(BELATED) TOFURKEY DAY - PART TWO

I'm a little late on this post ... let's just say I was on such a high that I kept opening and closing my fridge to smile at my left overs. Oh, also I had a 13 hour travel day and am moving apartments so am currently surrounded by boxes. What better way to procrastinate than to put on Breaking Bad and blog.

Run down of my first time ever cooking vegan thanksgiving. It also coincides with my first time ever cooking thanksgiving. Shocker, I know.

Mile One: Decided to tackle vegan thanksgiving. It wasn't much of a decision since if I didn't, I'd be eating the jarred cranberry sauce all night while everyone else feasted. And I hate cranberry sauce.

Mile Two: See post below. Onions aren't my best friend. My mom looked over my shoulder with a lot of comments like "ohhh, that looks interesting."

Mile Three: I'm not sure how many miles I'm running today. I just started with this mile one thing and now I'm off ... half regretting it. Side note on miles: sister and fiance ran five miles this morning. Nature versus nurture strikes again.

Mile Six: Let's skip ahead a little. Things I never realized about cooking:

- there's a shitload to chop if you want it to taste good. I guess that's why my food never tastes good ... I don't put anything in it. I just kind of heat a skillet and throw one (maybe two) ingredients in.

- Recipes. They're not so bad if you don't feel dumb rereading them sixteen times. Why haven't I used them before?

- MUCH easier to cook when you have a stocked kitchen. Why the hell does my mom have all this stuff?! Oh right ... adults.

Mile Ten: Ooops. Forgot to time the cooking of dishes. My method for madness was to start with the one I wanted to eat while cooking the others - stuffing. Forgot that I still had three dishes after that and was sharing the kitchen with my very hyper sister cooking loads and loads of caramel-chocolate popcorn. Totally cute DYI project for hostess gift that I would never ever try to tackle. Way too sticky. Realized my timing mistake so had to jump in shower and finish cooking while trying to get ready for dinner.

Mile Eleven: This is a random ending number. I DID IT!
My menu for myself:

- Herb roasted seitan with a mushroom gravy (vegan gravy?!)

- apple and walnut stuffing (you can see it all mashed together on my plate)

- cornbread (photo of this is before cook ing)

Didn't have time to make the pumpkin bundt cakes but was saved by no desert from my awesome bro who bought me a vegan pie home from work!

Reactions to my dinner ... we were in a food competition with three families. And I must say (and so did several others) my stuffing was pretty effing good. Best reaction of the night - woman from Philly trying to hide her disgust with my food choices . She wouldn't let me take a photo of her super disgusted face ... "oh. you don't eat meat?" She also looked at the cashews in the stuffing and asked if they were "bloated tics." Ahhhh red wine. Ahhhh gluttony.

Happy Belated Thanksgiving ... 500% thankful for my first thanksgiving in a long time that I didn't have to call home from a bad job whispering "mom? are you there? get me out of here ..."

TOFURKEY DAY - PART ONE

Oh shizzle, you have to prep this stuff? I always wondered why it took everyone all day to cook.

I've talked a big talk to the family about the vegan thing. Questions I've gotten on this trip home:

"oh no, you can't eat bread?"

"wait, you can't eat salad?"

"you can eat milk right?"

Okay, so obviously this concept is hard to grasp. My mom was really cute and loaded up her grocery cart with anything that said "vegan." So far I have yet to break open something called "vegan fruit dip." I don't know about you, but I really don't want to dip my fruit in anything.

Stuffing in the oven ... mom just ran over to my computer live streaming the parade to watch Santa. True story - she closed her eyes and quietly said "I believe, I believe." Yep. That happened.

Off to see if any of these dishes can actually be finished ... btw, I can't really chop onions. Both sisters tried to hide their shock at the fact that I just kind of hack at the chopping board. Try it ... way more fun.

GOAL #1 : PROGRESS IN THE KITCHEN

A little update on my original goal - learn to cook.

First of all, do normal people just read recipes and then ... make them?! Because all that happens when I look at a recipe is to panic because none of that stuff is in my fridge and then panic more because half the words sound like surgical procedures. And then order in. I figured if I was actually going to tackle one of these so-called recipes, I was going to have to watch someone else take them on. Sooooo ...

I splurged on the classes ... and then it took awhile to splurge on groceries to make what I learned in said classes. But last night, like an Oprah aha moment, I just did it. (jesus, I have to stop talking about Oprah) Did what you ask? Came home from work and without complaining, cooked us some non-frozen dinner. I think BF was just as confused as I was ... alright, so it took googling "how to roast peppers" to follow through - but the recipes are starting to make sense. Or at the very least, not send me into deep breathing exercises.

Tonight is NIGHT TWO of full dinner cooked with real, fresh food. They were by no means gourmet ... but then again, neither is the fake

chana masala that I could have defrosted.

Surprise of the night: I cut strawberries for desert and then remembered that in my hip vegan cooking class, I learned how to make chocolate ganache. Yes, yes ... I realize this looks

like I just dipped strawberries in chocolate. Which I kind of did. But I boiled almond milk to make that dip, dammit.

(half way through writing this, BF screamed "help! come in here!" ... he had poured boiling water into a plastic bottle so as to take outside. I don't feel so bad right now. Actually, I'm smirking.)

TO CLEAN OR NOT TO CLEAN

Not to clean ... always my answer. Or, usually my answer. Either way, I'm not very proactive about cleaning. You know when I do clean? When a cleaning person is coming over. (can you still say cleaning lady? maid?)

My obsession with deals has already been blogged about ... but remember that deal I made with myself? (drinking game - how many times can I use the word deal?) I can buy them if they are related to me becoming a domestic type gal. This one is a toss up for me because it's kind of a cop out ...

CLEANING SERVICE DEAL!

Cop out devil on my shoulder says: that's not fair. You're flunking the cleaning test because someone else is cleaning for you. You should be learning to find the joy in cleaning.

Cop out angel says: You're still finding the joy of cooking, so go ahead and splurge. Plus, it's proactive to schedule help when you can't do it all. I feel like that's something that my mom would say, and I consider he advice to be sound.

Deal breaker: BF and I decided that if we don't indulge in cleaning help, we'll never make it. It's the only thing we fight about. Once a week. On repeat. So there it is ... TO CLEAN! (with help)

MAKE ME A (VEGAN) WIFE

Bite size back story: My entire life the word vegan has made me think of insane people who must not like enjoyment. When defending my choice to be a vegetarian I would always follow with "but I'd never be vegan. That's just severe." I remember my mom talking about her California family and saying things like "ohhhh, they got all california ..." (aka, they're hippies and a tiny bit strange.) To be fair to my mother, she also took a TM (aka really crazy meditations shit) class so she can't be that far behind them in hippie-dom.

Present day: I am a two week old vegan. Ohhhh, I'm such a cute little baby vegan. Like my decision to become a veggie, it happened cold turkey and because of a book. Could I have ever imagined all those years back when watching Clueless that Cher would turn me into a no-cheese-person? Well, in the words of the teen icon, meat and cheese is way harsh. And look at her, she's pretty hot.

Side note: any vegans out there that have suggestions on how to get through the holidays without cheese for my wine, speak now. Connecticut women are really serious about wine and cheese.

In an effort to convert BF (not because I like converting; because I don't want him to have a heart attack. Also, seeing abs would be nice) I took him to see a documentary about all this food shizzle. I won't lecture here ... mainly because I'd get facts wrong ... but if you're at all interested in finding out more check out the doc FORKS OVER KNIVES when it comes out.

On to the major problem at hand - I need to figure out a way to not eat rice and beans the rest of my life. Both because it's boring and because I'm starting to smell. Plus, I impulsively emailed my family that I would be making vegan thanksgiving ... and then realized I don't know how to make vegan anything, never mind the mother of all entertaining holidays.

My solution - SPORKS COOKING CLASS! Yee-haw, cute vegan sisters who teach class ... honestly, it was amazing-ness. You know that peaceful tingly feeling you get at the end of a yoga class? (good yoga class. not gym yoga) Well, these gals give you that feeling.

I mean, look how cute this little spork bowl is - their mom made it! I'm such a sucker for adorableness. (shit, major stuff is going down on breaking bad while I write this ... a shiv?! Get out of there!)

Here was their menu:

SOUTHERN THANKSGIVING FEAST – GLUTEN-FREE!

- Bourbon-Glazed Tempeh with Carrots
- Cranberry Cornbread with Whipped Lemon Butter
- Maple Candied Yams with a Marshmallow Topping
- Mini Spiced Pumpkin Bundt Cakes with a Chocolate Ganache

Let me start by saying - I hate pumpkins. Let me end by saying - I thought I hated pumpkins. Crazy awesome pumpkin bundt cakes. Everything else was crazy awesome too ... just thought I'd single out the desert. Since they cooked and I just watched, I don't have any embarrassing stories about how I didn't know what "slice the carrots" meant. I shall update with that post, post holidays. (ohhh, I love to be able to use the same word with a different meaning like that!)

DIRTY DISHES

There's no photo accompanying this post because it's disgusting.

In my sink there is about three meals worth of dishes. The only thing making me feel okay about this is the fact that we don't eat meat so there's nothing rotting in the there. But still ... yuck. I actually usually like doing dishes ... but something in me last night wanted to stage a silent protest against my stupid no-dishwasher apartment.

So instead, to take my mind off of the fact that I was being horribly lazy I did the following:
- watched the last episode of Glee. Chris Colfer as Kurt is my current favorite thing. I don't love the show the way that I whole heartedly loved Dawson's ... but I do love Kurt. He makes me feel like high school and happiness.
- cuddled in my new $100 blanket. Yes, I bought an 100 dollar blanket. You know, because I'm trying to be all house wifey and make my home cozy ... so it's allowed. BF tried to cover his anger but he was quietly seething about my purchase ... until he got lost under the soft wonderfulness of the fake fur. And until Jazz claimed it as her new favorite place to bury. Apparently anything dog loves is an okay purchase. Cute comes with a price.

Okay, that's really all I did. Now I'm depressed at my lack of ability to get shit done. I have an apartment to pack, dishes to wash and a thousand things to write ... and all I can do is cuddle and hope that this new kid is going to kiss Kurt.

A NIGHT OF DOMESTICITY

It's windy and cold and I'm keeping cozy by the fire... on the stove.

The last "meal" I cooked for the husband and myself was a bowl of oatmeal that ended horribly for us and the fly that died in my meager cooking. That was about a month ago and I can't stand to think about what Suze Orman would say about our habit of only eating out, plus I feel bad that I get to eat at work, while husband sits at home nibbling on dried fruit and nuts like a little squirrel person.

So I've got some Josh Groban blasting (what, he's totally awesome and appropriate for housewife activities) and I'm going to attempt to stockpile some food for the week to make Dan and Suze proud. And me too of course.

Oh - aaaaand there's a load of laundry in the washer... If I didn't know better I might think I'm a domestic goddess.

So far all I have going are these eggs... but I'm optimistic.

"I FEEL THIRTY..."

"Oh so thirty. I feel thirty, and witty and gay ... " Westside Story lyrics keeps swirling around in my head today. Too much karaoke last night. Speaking of karaoke last night ... guess who serenaded me into this new age?

I turned 30 yesterday. Contrary to my amended "I feel pretty" lyrics, I do not feel thirty.

What I thought I would be at 30:

- a wife

- a mom (who cooks, cleans and folds laundry well)

- a career gal (I've always thought I could have it all)

What I am at 30:

- a very happy girlfriend

- a woman who lives vicariously through her friends with kids but is also glad she doesn't have her own just yet.

- a career gal!

One out of three - not so shabby.

With the help of this bliggity blog to hold me to it, here are my goals for November 4th, 2011 (aka 31) :

- have a beautifully decorated apartment

- manage to keep it clean and organized 92% of the time. I get 8% of my days to throw clothes on the floor.

- Cook dinner at home four out of seven nights a week. Exception to this rule - holidays. Then I get to party it up and eat free party appetizers Monday through Sunday.

- cook a vegetarian Thanksgiving for my family so they stop eating the bad stuff.

What else should I add?

Also, a note on 30: pretty psyched I'm not in my 20s anymore. Sorry suckers ... I'm out of the messy years!

FREE COOKING CLASS

Or, free with purchase of food. My find of the week: if you eat out at hibachi style restaurants, you also get a cooking class!

What I learned over a work bday lunch:

1) unless you ask for no or light butter, you will get a shit load of garlic butter in your rice. What I took from this - butter makes things taste good. Too bad I already learned that from Julie/Julia.

2) Anything dumped onto a sizzling hot surface will cook pretty quickly. Maybe this is what I need to fix my "starving by the time I go to cook" problem - a big griddle!

3) raw meat is gross. My kids are going to be vegetarians so I don't have to touch that stuff.
(eeeeeeew gross raw meet)

4) They use these cute little steamers to cook the veggie meals ... I need one of these asap! I found this pretty bamboo one on line and shall be ordering pronto. Going to have to hide it from the BF - he's convinced I buy too many products that I don't use.
(inside this steamer are my delicious veggies)

I'LL KNIT YOUR BABY A BLANKET

Confession of the day: I am addicted to deal sites. And by addicted I mean, I spend a shit load of money on things that I would otherwise not need but since they're half off I must have. (excuse the run on sentence please.)

I tried to cut down on these deals but I started to get the shakes as I let them slip by ... so my new justification:

IF THEY ARE RELATED TO LEARNING DOMESTIC DUTIES I A

M ALLOWED!

Just in time to for todays Groupon ... ARTS AND CRAFTS!! Okay, okay, it's not really domestic duties. But if I limit myself to taking classes like knitting or crocheting it is ... right? My theory is that a complete woman should know how to make a baby blanket at a gift for a friend. I can't let my friends babies go around sleeping under store bought blankets. In my mind I can make this pile of awesomeness that I found at the PURL BEE site.

Confession #2 of the day: I've actually taking a crocheting class at HANDS ON 3RD before. It was really great ... I was just really, really bad. I was also the only one there alone. I guess most girls do that kind of thing for girly bonding?? Anyone want to make me feel better and come with? If you do I'll buy you coffee after ... and knit your kid a blanket ... GET THE DEAL HERE!

I DID NOT GET MY MOTHER'S GENES

Or her jeans. And I'd love to have a couple of her 70s pairs.

My mom makes homes pretty. Organized and pretty. She knows things about fabrics that sound like pig latin to me. When she met BF her first reaction to "Indian" was "I have to ask him about the silk in India." What?!

My mother ... where to start ... she lives in a cute, cozy home that's two sizes too small but still manages to feel like home and smell like Christmas. She currently works at a store that if I named you'd all be jealous about (lets just say ... 40% off is a real bonus. And mom, I have my eye on a couple pieces for XMas.) She's always saying things like "you know, I understand the house wife ... it's a full time job to pick out curtains and keep a home up." To this I roll my eyes and down a glass of wine ... "sure mom, whatever you say to make yourself not want to punch out your customers."

Except ... except ... shit. I think she's right. I have made the decision to MOVE ... little known fact about moving - it follows "death of a spouse" and the #2 stressful thing to go through. With the word move comes the word DECORATE. "But I don't have time for all this, I have a job." And there it is - my mom's words.

But I'm not a housewife with kids and an excuse to quit my job (plus, let me reiterate, I love my job.) So I must decorate and declutter and budget for these expenses on the lunch break.

Here are the current photos on the google doc I have going labled "WISHES FOR APARTMENT." Note the word "wishes." We shall see what really unfolds ...

INSPIRATION

This idea that I'm not that great at anything related to the home is not a new one. It's something that's been kicking around for some time in my head. And every time I feel super discouraged, I look at my friend Kate's blog ... and get more discouraged.

No, I kid. I get inspired. I'm sure somewhere inside of me is this artsy kick ass woman like Kate. Maybe?

Kate's apartment is like what my apartment looks like in my dreams before I wake up and slip on a pile of dirty clothes. It's colorful and original and organized and clean. Like a house should be.

Adding to her kick ass-ness, she also helped design Rachel's kick-ass wedding...

AND designs the most kick-ass jewelry that helps me strike awesome poses like this one (yes, the other ginger is my brother.)

I am resigned to the fact that I may never be Mr.Kate ... but I will keep following her lead into the world of pretty, unique style.

Inspiration. Keep it coming.

CLEANLINESS IS NEXT TO GODLINESS?

Isn't there some weirdo phrase like that? If that's true then maybe I should be an atheist.

Update on GOAL #2: Apartment has been clean for 2 days! I realize the fact that this has an ! after it is pathetic. I have a serious problem putting things away. I don't know why ... I've really thought long and hard about my childhood and what would make me this way. The only thing I can come up with (and believe me, I use this as an excuse all the time) is that I never ever had my own room ... so now that I'm a big bad grownup and have my own place, I will damn well messy it up. And no one will tell me to clean up!

Except that I'm now taking major steps to fix my brain and all its issues ... so this will no longer be an acceptable excuse. Bye, bye traumatic room-sharing memories of my sisters reading my diary and my brothers waking me up with Nerf guns pointed at my head.

LOOK WHAT I FOUND!

A site that has therapy for people like me!! 20 cures in 20 days ... hmmmmm. We shall see if I can follow through. I mean, I've always wanted to go to therapy.

http://cure.apartmenttherapy.com/2010/fall

WHAT'S COOKING GOOD LOOKING?

Okay, I'm not really good looking in these photos. Rainy saturday ... aka my day off from sunscreen and makeup. (also I've been thinking - shouldn't sunscreen be covered for skin cancer patients? Nutrogena's been getting a lot of my money. Just saying.)

Cooking class #1 complete. The follow through was made a little easier by the fact that I dragged along BF. But it was FUN! A couple thoughts:

- we made really yummy candied nuts. Except the teacher kept saying things like "depending on how warm you like your nuts" and "if you like your nuts on the spicier side." Apparently no one else hears this and gets thrown into a fit of giggles.

- of course she made me crack the eggs for the class. This gives me hives. I must have ruined some pie in my past life by getting shell in the eggs.

- expensive knives make cooking easier. Reason #435 to get engaged so we can register for all this stuff that we'll use once.

- I finally found something in the kitchen I'm better at than BF - rolling empanadas. Only downside is that we'll probably never ever again make empanadas. Maybe we should've taken the Indian cooking class instead of tapas.

Major bonus of the class was that they "taught us how to make

sangria" and then served it. So I was sufficiently buzzed by the

time we sat down for the cute dinner we made.

Parting thought: If wine is served, I will go back for more! Goal 1.5: Cook one of these things at home. Probably the flan.

GOAL #2

A couple years ago I had too much beer weight on and I downloaded some weird motivational thing to listen to while trying to shed the fun off. Being a fairly middle of the road american female, Oprah had something to do with it.

This is what I remember: Oprah's voice telling me to strip down naked and look at myself in the mirror. "Really look. Take in the fat. Be honest with yourself." (something to that effect) I think the point was that once naked, its all out there - you're fat.

I'm not fat. But I am messy. I am to messy what obese is to fat ... ? I will not be standing naked in front of my mirror today ... mostly because I can't get close enough. Too many clothes on the floor. Instead I will be posting a photo of my coffee table in all its glory.

GOAL #2 - CLEAN UP MY LIFE (in the organizational, clean home way)

FLEAS!!

When we first got Jazz I thought "oh yay! A starter baby!" ... and then I realized she was 4 years old with tons of medical problems. Oh rescue dogs, how cute and problem ridden you are.

Jazz has fleas. Lots and lots of them. When the vet called me with the answer to the itching he said in a super condescending voice "Jazz has lots of fleas ... did you not notice how irritated her skin is?" This voice is why I don't go to the dentist (pretend you didn't read that.) But really, I don't really go to the dentist ... they always make me feel so bad about everything. Like it's my fault my irish ancestors gave me weak enamel. And don't get me started about the eye doctor. They know I can't read the chart! I couldn't read it last year and I can't read it now, have some compassion. So no, I did not notice that her skin was super irritated.

But here I am, defleaing my apartment. I am not happy about this fact ... I am so unhappy that I call up Boyfriend and yell "you have to get back here! I can't be a single mom by my ..." And then I trail off because Chilean miner #2 has just been pulled out of the earth and is bouncing around like he won the lotto. And I'm whining about defleaing an apartment. Ugh.

Okay, okay ... lesson learned. Maybe just shut up and do "wife like" things. Maybe don't complain about things that though totally gross, are totally funny when you look back at them. Right? Looking back at capturing blood sucking bugs that feast on their own feces will be funny in a couple days ... right? Until the next flea infestation ...

(btw how cute is jazz getting a flea bath??)

MAKE ME AN (INDIAN) WIFE

The title of this post is enough to fill a whole blog itself ... but we'll start simple

Little background story: I date an indian male. I am a white female. A great part of my journey to becoming a good girlfriend has been navigating this whole mixed culture thing we call a melting pot.

Present day: we went to an amazing hinjew wedding this weekend - complete with BFs parents dressing me! The results are below and if I do say so myself, I rock a sari better than a cocktail dress. Thankfully, I thought ahead and wore full butt underwear - I would have died about a thousand deaths had I been wearing my sequined "sexy" thong (I think this pair is left over from a birthday when I was single and my friends thought this would help me?) Because you see, to put on a sari you must have a lot of help. A lot of help which starts by standing in ones underwear.

Not sure you can rock a sari? How wrong you are ... check out these non-tradional (read: non indian) sari wearers:

EEEECK I PAID MY $65

FOR COOKING CLASS!

I can write that off, right? Side note: have to get a good and shady tax guy. I say guy because they're more shady then the ladies.

I went with a tapas themed class because 1) I like tapas 2) it comes with sangria 3) it was the soonest class that didn't require cooking meat. I don't eat meat because I read that "Skinny Bitch" book when it was all the rage. Also, I was secretly trying to impress my Hindu boyfriend who then didn't eat meat ... but now does. So I win.

Here's the menu for the class:

• Marinated olives
• Spicy candied nuts
• Pure de garbanzo w/ pita toasts
• Manchego con Membrillo (Spanish cheese with quince paste)
• Tortilla Española & spicy salad
• Camarones Bravas - garlicky saffron shrimp
• Empanadillas Argentinas
• Flan with caramel designs

Alright, you got me. I also chose this class because it seems like a good starter one. How hard can marinating olives be?

(CUT TO: me crying in a vat of olive juice trying to make a dirty martini)

I'm a little excited - it only took starting a blog to make myself shell out $65 to learn how to make garbanzo with pita toast! Photos to come ... unless I burn down their kitchen.

7:43pm ON A FRIDAY

Just walked in the door from work. So tired my brain hurts. Do real people really cook dinner right now and then entertain the thought of a social evening?

Me, this is what I will be doing for the next couple hours:

(yes, this is a creepy self taken photo)

RACHEL'S STORY...

When I was born, my mom made me a quilt. Let's rephrase. When I was born, my mom started to make me a quilt. And she finished on the day I left for college. Now my mom is one of those has-it-all-together women, so this procrastination was a freak occurence for her. But rather than learn her all-togetherness, procrastination was the skill I decided to take.

But I recently became a wife. And let's face it, it's strange to label myself as that because besides loving my husband, I don't really act as such. But I'd like to.

The other day, my husband (who I have lived with for over a year) said to me, "we don't have an ironing board, do we?" Embarrassingly, the answer is yes, we do. I've just never used it. Sidenote: what we don't have is a vacuum. This brings me to my next thought. Since I've become a wife, I feel way less wifey than ever before. And I don't like that. There's something about this rite of passage that makes me want to denounce my modern ways and embrace old school wifehood. But how to find the time?

Marriage for me coincided with my first ever full time job (at the ripe old age of thirty). So all of a sudden I find myself with no time to do anything. Or maybe I'm spending all my free time complaining about having no time, therefore encroaching on the free time I actually do have. Which leads me to the conclusion that it's simply not possible to do it all... and I call bullshit on anyone who claims they can. And I believed that until I had drinks with my agent.

My agent, is a hip, cool, stylish, successful businesswoman, wife and mother of two. MOTHER OF TWO. And somehow she finds the time to get her kids ready for school, workout for an hour while reading scripts, work all day, spend time with her kids after work, make a gourmet meal for she and her husband, have drinks with ME, and still actually sleep. On a daily basis. I'm not sure if I can squeeze all of this in on a weekly basis. All I manage to do on this list is ... none of it. Just kidding, I totally microwave Trader Joe's frozen food.

So I think it's time to embrace this wife/adult thing and actually act like one. And now, not 18 years after I start.

GOAL #1

You know it's bad when ...

You come home to a boyfriend who's had a bad day ... and he's making you dinner. You know it's even worse when instead of helping you're just standing there watching him stir. (really, I'm bad at stirring.)

The crazy person in my head says "but audrey, you went to work. You deserve dinner cooked for you." But then New and Improved Audrey sits on the other shoulder and reminds me "hey loser, the rest of America works. Get over your job." Sigh, I'm going to have to stop using this excuse. On a side note - is it just LA or do other people feel like having a full time job gives them grounds to complain and be lazy?

So here's the deal - I HAVE TO LEARN TO COOK. I mean, how can I go around telling everyone and their mother (or is it just my boyfriend I say it to?) that I want kids on the nowish side of now when I won't even be able to cook them dinner? For the sake of my unborn children, I am going to learn to cook.

GOAL #1: COOKING CLASS. I'm thinking HIPCOOKS so that I can feel hip whilst cooking. And also because perfect fiance from first post recommended them.

BTW - I find the title of this book cruel. But hopefully I will have a post filled with joyous photos after my first class.

AUDREY'S STORY ...

Before you get all "how dare you want to be a housewife" on us, let's get this out of the way: we have jobs. We love our careers. And that's kind of the problem ... how the hell do you do all the stuff that you're supposed to as a woman/wife/girlfriend/person while still doing your full time job that leaves you tired at night? Or are we the only ones who just don't get it?

Let's rewind 12 hours:

My boyfriend and I went to dinner last night with a recently engaged couple. Half way through the wife-to-be telling me about her day, I started to shrink in my chair. If the wine hadn't been $14 a glass, I would have ordered two more glasses to chug.

Here's my typical day:

- wake up. Complain .

- try to work out. This in itself felt like an accomplishment. Boyfriend and I make it to the gym by 8 which for us is a huge deal. I last 20 minutes on the treadmill.

- go to work

- lunch break aka gossip time

- come home and take dog out for short walk. Ooops, forgot to buy him food. I can do that tomorrow, right?

- go on the internet and look at dumb blogs that serve no purpose (or do they?)

- decide to go out to dinner because we haven't grocery shopped and we're too lazy to figure it out.

- sleep

Here was her typical day:

- wake up

- prep dinner for she and her and fiance (this is where I start sweating ...)

- go to work

- go to gym at lunch break and get work done while on treadmill for the whole hour

- come home and make beautiful, mouth watering dinner that she had prepped that morning

- serve fiance cheese while cooking

- watch a TV show and discuss

- sign up for a class to better herself

- peacefully go to sleep

Where did I go wrong? I have a very capable role model of a mother who managed to work, raise 5 kids, feed us, seem like she was around a lot, keep the house clean ... I guess I just didn't pick up anything from her?

So that's it - I must figure it out. I must figure out how to do all of this stuff and still have time to decompress in a calming yoga class. You know, because I don't break a sweat - it's just sooooo easy for me. (a girl can dream.)

Plus, I want to be a woman you want as a wife. There, I said it.