Preserved fruits and New Year Wishes :)

A great year for me is ending. I have met plenty of new interesting people, discovered gems in the oddest ways and places, made some room in my heart for new kinds of love to grow and made some significant new resolutions.

I survived the world ending and I survived the end of some friendships that were once, my world. I really feel happy about the new minds I have been privileged to connect with this year. I truly hope these people stick around for a long while, but no matter what happens, all I can do is be thankful that they even crossed my path in the first place. Another eye opening year where I discovered people's true colors. I consciously decided to take a step back with certain people, some who aren't aware they are gone yet, but that's ok. That was the main reason they are gone anyways. They didn't notice, follow up, connect and respect. Like every year, I like to assess and declutter my emotional life. As I age, I understand that no one is worth chasing after. When people want to be with you, they reach out. Plain simple.

I am walking confidently into the upcoming year with hopes of fruit preservation. During the big storm we had a couple years back, my roots and seeds scattered and implanted in new areas. My life turned around and so many of my dreams bloomed. In 2013, I plan on gathering all my efforts in preserving what we harvested. I am done chasing new Love Cake ingredients. I am ready to cook with what we have in order to keep my family stable, and happy. In the end, that is all that matters.

Happy New Years Eve to all of you, my dear valuable readers, family and friends. May 2013 bring blessings and great opportunities for you and your family. Be safe. I hope you all get kissed at midnight, make a wish that comes true next year and that 2013 is filled with joy, health, happiness and simplicity. And tonight, it is perfectly acceptable to wear too much glitter. ;)

À la bonne franquette...

À la bonne franquette, c'est un nouvel ajout aux catégories sur mon gâteau d'amour. Enfin un petit recoin pour exorciser mes démons de Canadienne expatriée ( et s.v.p, veuillez pardonner mon Français qui me fuit au fil du temps).

Cela fait presque dix ans déjà que je respire à pleins poumons, l'odeur des États-Unis. Enfant, mes parents chargeaient notre vieille Buick Century de couleur moutarde ( remplacée quelques années plus tard par une Ford Taurus argentée...Dieu merci!) de valises remplies de marinades et condiments séchés Khmers, de fruits exotiques illégaux, de croustilles, de notre cuiseur à riz et de cadeaux rares pour mon cher oncle qui avait immigré dans les banlieues de Washington D.C. Douze heures de route, à endurer les taquineries de mon grand frère, la chaleur sordide de la vieille bagnole familiale sans air-climatisée ni fenêtres automatiques pouvant s'entrouvrir à l'arrière. Tout ce que j'avais, c'était un petit triangle de fenêtre pour me sauver de mon mal des transports. Douze heures avec les narines humant l'air de la route. Avec le temps, j'avais commencé à développer un "pif navigateur" car avant même que mon père nous annonçait qu'on était enfin proche, mon nez m'avisait déjà que l'on était rendu à destination. Tout simplement parce que l'air avait l'odeur DES ÉTATS-UNIS.

Dans ma mémoire d'enfant, c'était une odeur vraiment distincte. Tout comme l'odeur des vers de terre suivant les journées de déluge, ou l'odeur du froid de l'hiver ou du congélateur, l'odeur des États-Unis (comme je l'appelais, étant enfant) sentait comme un mélange d'aisselle terrestre humide, de crustacés provenant des vents de la plage (qui était loin pourtant) et de vieux feuillages avec un soupçon de criquets visqueux (même si les criquets ne sont pas visqueux normalement).

Jamais je n'aurais douté que je viendrais y vivre un jour. Qu'en trouvant l'amour, je serais déracinée des odeurs de l'hiver pour émigrer dans un nouvel univers olfactif. Cette odeur, j'ai continué à la sentir pendant plusieurs années mais récemment, j'ai remarqué que je n'arrivais plus à la discerner, et que je m'y étais tranquillement accoutumée. Un petit choc en réalisant que la Virginie, en catimini, était devenue mon nouveau chez moi.

Cette nouvelle catégorie, elle sera consacrée à mes chocs de culture, mes maux du pays, mes pensées nostalgiques et mes échanges inter-personnelles avec cette culture qui nous semble si familiaire à travers les films de Hollywood, mais qui constamment m'échappe et me laisse au dépourvue à chaque fois que je tente un rapprochement plus sincère, et plus vrai. Je me suis nouée de plusieurs amitiés, mais je n'en gratte encore que la surface en espérant qu'un jour, à force de gratter, je puisse gagner à la lotterie des amitiés avec les Américains...J'espère que vous aimerez me lire...À bientôt. :)

With the Holiday Season, comes a lof of "food anxiety"...This article written by Amy Chozick, published on The New York Times really spoke to me...

Please, Mom and Dad: Just Have a Taste

Bridging the Generation Gap, One meal at a Time.

By AMY CHOZICK Published: December 17, 2012 

MY childhood tasted of bland roast chicken and canned crescent rolls — starchy fare that typically came out of a box, plopped on our plates by our tireless working mom. Dining out usually meant wielding our trays down the line at Luby’s Cafeteria in San Antonio for mashed potatoes and a factory-cut square of fried fish, with a clover-shaped dinner roll on the side.

So how did we end up here, crammed around a corner table at Pizzeria Delfina in San Francisco this summer, arguing over whether we should order a second bottle of a primitivo from Apulia? The meal began with my sister and me offering Mom $80 to try the fried pigs’ ears with chile oil (they’re heavenly; she refused) and ended with Dad trying his best to swallow the sticker shock of the $300-plus bill. (“For pizza!”)

In the decade since my sister and I left South Texas and adopted the palates that come with our respective coastal cities, San Francisco and New York, meals for my family — and, I discovered, many others like ours — have become a source of tension, a stark reminder of the generational red food-blue food divide.

It’s as if each time my family sits down together for a meal, all the cultural differences from the place we came from (land of chain restaurants, big-box grocery stores and drive-throughs) and the places we ended up (lands of Michelin stars, artisanal cheese and locally farm-raised you-name-it) bubble to the surface like the yeast in my sister’s favoritesour batard bread.

Eating together inevitably leads to a long list of proscribed cuisines that are either too spicy (Indian) or too rich (French) or just too New York (brunch). Our mom, always eager to please, recently declared that she loved sushi, “just not the raw stuff.” The morning after Delfina, over dim sum at Yank Sing, an epic family fight broke out somewhere between the Shanghai dumplings and the Peking duck carts.

My sister, Stefani, and I are no better on a visit to Texas. On a recent trip, she declared my folks’ favorite restaurant on the River Walk “a waste of a meal.”

My parents have tried for years to get me to eat at Pasha Mediterranean Grill, built in a former Tex-Mex restaurant shaped like a sombrero. They swear it’s better than anything I can get in New York. The conversation usually ends with my rolling my eyes and saying, “We have pita bread in New York, Dad.” He replies, “Not like this you don’t.” And so on until everyone is annoyed.

As the holidays approached, my husband, having endured these fights for three years, encouraged me to use my reporting skills to investigate whether meals bring out the same generational and geographic rifts in other families. Can food, so often portrayed this time of year as the glue that binds a family together, also be the wedge that drives us apart?

Absolutely, said William J. Doherty, a social science professor at the University of Minnesota who writes about family rituals. “Food is physical, psychological and emotional,” he said. “There’s almost nothing like it as both a connector and a divider.” Tensions aired around the table — “a microcosm of family life and social relations” — often lead to broader, more healthy debates, he said. (True. The dim sum fight somehow transformed into a dayslong discussion about our parents’ retirement plans.)

Dr. Doherty suspects that parents in suburban and rural areas harbor unspoken pride in their children’s culinary snobbery. Yes, we can be insufferable to dine with, but we can also afford to eat out and learn about foods that were not available where we grew up. But like working-class parents who sacrificed to send their children to college, only to find that they have little in common, different tastes can also highlight familial growing pains.

“Food is a symptom and a symbol of change and how people grow apart,” said Heather Paxson, an anthropology professor at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. “People want their kids to do better, but there’s also the fear that they’ll be left behind or judged as lacking in some way.”

The reverse can happen to parents who forced their children to eat foie gras and Wagyu. “An adult child can go to one extreme and become an epicure, or say, ‘I want peanut butter and jelly every day,’ ” said Ellyn Satter, a dietitian and family therapist in Madison, Wis.

The generational food gap corresponds to the evolved way many American families eat today, Dr. Paxson said. Baby boomers like my folks largely adopted the frugal dining habits of their World War II-era parents. Dinners were about affordability and efficiency. My parents put dinner on the table each night to feed us, not to enlighten us about edamame and the wonders of a Le Creuset Dutch oven (which my mom now owns and uses often).

“It was part of the day’s routine,” said Marilyn Hagerty, a columnist in Grand Forks, N.D., who gained instant fame this year for her review of a local Olive Garden. “We had to eat. It was nothing we’d all stand around and savor.”

That all changes when children move away. For some, a new social milieu means adopting a vegan diet or giving up carbohydrates, while others, like my brother-in-law, drink onlyBlue Bottle coffee made in a handblown Chemex coffee maker. My friend Barry Dale says the only thing tougher than telling his Southern parents he was gay was telling them he was gluten free. (He does not have celiac disease.)

Ms. Hagerty’s daughter once worked in Hong Kong, and took her mother on a culinary tour of Shanghai. “I just thought she’d come a long way from the macaroni and cheese and tuna fish and noodles she ate in North Dakota growing up,” Ms. Hagerty said.

All that worldly deliciousness can turn even the most agreeable eaters into arrogant urbanites. But I also learned that within each family, neutral ground exists.

My parents and I completely agree when it comes to San Antonio’s regional Tex-Mex and barbecue spots. Stefani and I desperately miss the flavors of a bean-and-cheese taco fromLas Palapas (closed on Sundays “for family and worship”) and bring back jars of Rudy’sbarbecue sauce in our suitcases after most visits home.

Ms. Hagerty said that on visits to Grand Forks, her adult children rush to the Red Pepperfor its special “grinder” sandwich made with taco meat and white sauce. And each of the children’s kitchens has an aebleskiver pan, a tool Danish cooks use to make the little doughy pancakes that the Hagertys grew up on.

My family has developed some new favorites, but it has not been easy. One of my most heated food fights with my father started at Russ & Daughters, a landmark appetizing shop on the Lower East Side. My dad loved the look of the smoked salmon, chopped liver and dried fruit arranged like artwork behind glass. Then he discovered that the store did not have a toaster oven.

I tried my best to convince him that the bagels were so deliciously fresh they didn’t need to be toasted, but the thought of an untoasted bagel was too much. We left the store screaming at each other.

Years later, now that the shop has a toaster oven, he laughs at what is known in my family as “the toasted bagel incident.”

“The main thing is that we are all together at the same table, and not the food that is on it,” he said.

Still, he’d really like us to try Pasha.

Hearty Beef Stew

It is that time of the year again, when I start noticing steamy smoke coming out of my mouth as my world appears to frost all around me. I surprised hearing myself saying more than I should, regretting words that I said because of feeling invisible in Siberia, and craving warmth from my dearest friends and family. It is that time of the year when I become homesick and the urge of recreating what I once called "home"  are consuming me whole...

While I was demonstrating to my four year old how to pace himself with his hot boiling beef stew, it suddenly hit me that I was myself scarfing down the food, and that he probably mimicked that bad habit from watching me. And then, I realized I was not only rushing and not taking the time to wait for my soup to cool off, I also did not take the appropriate time to enjoy the warmth of each spoonful of all the things I had to be thankful for, and bolted throughout copious areas of my life.

It seemed that the illness which troubled me last year has implanted a sort of cooking timer in my heart, as if I was going to run out of time. I have been rushing since, rushing to finally start this book I always dreamed of writing, rushing to find deeper and deeper purpose and meaning to my life, and mostly, rushing into my relationships, new and old. I found myself opening too much and too fast to new people, as if I was speed dating and only had five minutes to show them my character in the hope that there will be a match. And all these new social media platforms such as Facebook give you the illusion that you know or connect with someone by discovering things and reading thoughts that would normally never be revealed this soon and out of any context. We are all knowing too much yet, still learn too little.  All of this overwhelming amount of virtual love combined with resentment towards those who really been loving me but didn't "support me in public" have been fogging my world view and perception of who truly cares and what type of relationships we were having.  As much as I am thankful for all the old friends I have reconnected with, it also made me very confused and vulnerable to being too exposed and exposing myself too much to certain people who ended up not worthy of my devoted friendly attentions.

I am now making this vow to myself in taking mindful slow steps, breathing through my emotions and perceptions when getting to know someone and embracing the natural pace of any bond that comes along with any new person I encounter. Strangely, I was much wiser when finding true love and not rushing into any relationships but I didn't apply those same rules when it came to making new friends.

For those who hurt me, I will let things simmer. From now on, I will choose to only surround myself with those who want to truly spend time with me, and perhaps, one day, we will grow a bond that will allow us to simply enjoy each other's company in the most mutual, comfortable and comforting way. There is nothing more true and pure than being able to have comfortable silences with a friend, even from a distance.

My dear old friends who know me inside out, I miss our comfortable silences. I also miss being able to be different from you without compromising our trust in each other. I miss feeling needed and never having to come up with an excuse to see each other. I miss being with you because you enjoyed my company, laughing hysterically together, exchanging thoughts and ideologies while savoring new flavors together for hours without looking at the time. I did not realize how scarce this type of exchange would become as I grow older, and as people are more weary of their time spent...Because never before I would have thought someone would not want to come see me because they weren't in the mood for what I was about to cook for them, when it was really all about spending time together in the first place...

Love Longevity Diet

Congratulations to Herbert and Zelmyra Fisher of North Carolina! They have been married 86 years and hold the Guinness World record for the longest marriage of a living couple. Zelmyra is 101 years old and Herbert is 104! I wish I could meet them so they would share their secret with us. :)

Engagement Party Cake

Today, we went to celebrate our very dear friend's engagement party. Our almost four year old kept on asking us who's birthday it was. We told him that his uncle Dan and future auntie Rebecca are getting married soon and that's what we are celebrating.

Me: "When family and friends are excited for two people who are about to get married and are attending a party before the wedding, we call that an engagement party".

Liam: "What does getting married mean?"

Me: "When those two people get married, on that day, they will make a promise to love each other forever in front of all their family and friends."

Liam: "What does promise mean?"

Me: "They will work very hard at taking care of each other, when they are happy or mad. They will learn how to share, listen to each other, take good care of each other and love each other so much. They will think about ways to make the other person happy every day. And they will promise to never give up trying. It is not always easy, but they will try and will promise to try. "

This was an acceptable answer enough to him. He remained quiet the entire car ride after that...As you can see, I didn't want to feed him the "Happy ever after" fairy tales lies and disillusions. I really wanted him to understand that it doesn't guarantee happiness but that it was a promise and that it required hard work to reach it. I hope that will give him solid foundation for his relationships later on. And I hope he asks me that question often so I can keep on telling him.... :)

Surviving off mushrooms and cultivating our own corny hope...

Every time we watch a Korean or Japanese movie, I have the urge to stuff my face with some deluxe instant Ramen noodles. It is almost midnight and I am craving for some instant black bean Ramen noodles. I never had these before, but thanks to this multiple award-winning Korean movie Castaway on the Moon, these little radioactive noodles have a total new meaning to my taste buds.

Komar asked me what I wanted to watch tonight, and here was my response: "I feel like watching something that will restore my amazement in humanity. Something that will showcase our brilliance, as humans. A movie that is grand, a masterpiece, in the same lines as Amelie, Forrest Gump, or The Matrix. Something new. Something wow. Something that will change my perspective on the world."
And Komar responded: "Just that, huh...". And there he was, flipping through our Netflix, when he selected this one. "Ask and you shall receive" he would tell me, if he could predict the future and the outcome of the movie. I was blown away. There was nothing cheesy or cliché about this film. It was a true gem and a subtle love story that respected the audience's intelligence and did not need to hammer every single line to us. I love movie revelations like these.

This is the story of this sad guy who failed a suicide attempt and turned castaway in the Han River and a girl who is addicted to the Cyberworld and hasn't gone out of her house for years. They both give hope to each other and overcome their restraints. This movie treats the common ways we fall in love in a non-common way.

 It made me think of the Little Prince quote that says "It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.” ― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince. 

New home, new kitchen :)

Here we are, finally all moved into our new house . Sold our townhouse after eight days on the market and we were lucky enough to be able to rent back for about three months, while we waited until our new house was built. Our three year old had a great experience, learning each step of the process of building a house, and watching it evolve, from breaking ground to the finishing touches. The move went smoothly, and we got help from our family. Once we finally moved, it barely took us one day to already feel right at home. On our very first day, we were greeted by neighbors with scrumptious cupcakes and created new friendships in the blink of the eye. We invited them in, and they hung out at our place and the spark was instant. I fell in love, once again, and not only with my husband and kids, but with this new love nest, our new home that we built and selected from start to finish.

This will be the second house we have built and completely catered to our taste and needs. A brand new house, like a blank canvas, allowing us the selection of all our features and design. I couldn't ask for more. I really believe this is our dream house and the one where our family will settle in for a very long time. I cannot wait to watch my boys grow in it and build so many new memories in this house. But what is the most amazing is that even though we were able to select everything, from picking our lot to each little cabinet knob, we never would have been able to predict who would live next door to us.

I have to say, my mind is blown by how friendly everyone is in our new neighborhood. We landed on a gold mine filled with stimulating and fun people with interesting hobbies, talents and interests. We already hung out several times, went shopping and spent quality family times all together. Everyone is young, friendly, and with same age kids. I couldn't have dreamed it better. :D

Sharing a kitchen before getting married...

A very interesting article I wanted to share with you. Any thoughts?

Why Living Together Before Marriage Is A Bad Idea [Infographic]
Ashley Lutz | Jul. 13, 2012, 2:05 PM |

Proponents of cohabitation say that it gives couples a chance to try each other out before making a big commitment.

But studies show that couples who live together before marriage are less likely to be together 20 years later.

This infographic by MyMove.com and posted at visual.ly illustrates data from the Census and a University of Virginia marriage expert.

Check it out:

Read more: http://www.businessinsider.com/why-living-together-before-marriage-is-a-bad-idea-infographic-2012-7#ixzz20XtlPgOQ

A nice picnic, on a Sunday afternoon...

Pointillism is one of the painting techniques that I respect the most. I'm sure many of you will recognize this classic picture of George Seurat titled A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte. This painting is entirely made of pure colored dots applied in such ways to form this beautiful image. No lines at all, even though lines are, in fact, a series of dots disposed very closed to each other. When I admire this painting, it inspires me not only the respect for the complexity of the details and painting technique, but also for how it matches with my outlook on life, and what I pledge myself to live by. A multitude of dots, isolated, but together forming the big picture. Each dot enhancing the other, but each dot strongly impacting the entire picture. Before you wonder where I am going with this, here's my thought about life...

I remember one of my single female friends telling me how hard it was for her to enjoy a picnic at a park, when seeing all these happy families eating together, while she was still looking for love and dreaming of having children one day. She couldn't enjoy herself there, too busy comparing herself to everyone. I could sense some distress and her clock ticking, her fear of falling behind.  And I know she wasn't the only one who would see life as something linear, since that is what society conditions us to believe. Society dictates us a time line and a life path, where it is expected for everyone to finish school, find a mate, settle down, get married, purchase a home, raise children, while pursuing a solid career. Then comes the comparison between everyone on that time line. Who's ahead, behind, sideways...

I don't personally think anyone is ahead, or behind. Maybe just more comfortable in certain ways maybe. Well, at least not ahead physically or materialistically in the linear life path sense.

We are where we are, and accepting it and understanding our place is what makes our lives beautiful and meaningful. Like each color dot on that painting, everyone and everything has its place, and is instrumental in the large scheme of things.  Perhaps that is why I never understood or felt the "keeping up with the Joneses" inferiority complex and the fear of not fitting in. It is not important to compare ourselves with who's around us, because the only direction that matters, well, at least to me, is upward, towards the sky.

When we focus on elevating our minds, spirits and souls, working on bettering ourselves everyday, de-cluttering our minds, it does not matter anymore which peripheral direction we take. We cannot judge someone by where he or she is standing because everyone's journey to get where they got is so different, and personal. Converting jealousy and envy into inspiration. Seeing beauty in other's joys and empathy in other's misery.

To come back to my friend who constantly fears of falling behind, some may have been married for ten years already, compared to her, but during these ten years, she has lived other experiences that married people have been deprived of. I am not saying she is not allowed to dream or get frustrated they take too long to concretize, but I don't think not having what she wishes for, at that very instant, should ruin all the good that she has around and within herself. If our state of mind is unsatisfied, we can never be happy even with all the money and the strongest social status in the world. In the end, we are simply where we stand and we could stand still forever and still grow and evolve. Like mediation and introspection for example, they make us stop while furthering us with our mind and spirit, farther than our body and wallet can ever take us. 

There is a big difference between going "nowhere"and remaining still to assess our souls from time to time. Would we judge a monk or a priest for choosing the life they chose? They didn't "move forward" in the conventional sense; instead devoting their lives to religion and staying still in order to meditate or pray. They worked on their minds and hearts, making them grow stronger day by day. In the end, in my opinion, it is only how happy we are with ourselves and the rest of the world and how far upward we go that truly matters. It's not about direction, nor competition, but elevation and level of consciousness. Consciousness of ourselves, strengths, flaws and how we can contribute to our own lives. The world would be such a better place if everyone knew how to cook their own comfort food for their souls...

Phalllic Fish

An interesting article about the fish with its genitals on its head...(I can't find a more appropriate time to call something a dick head... *chuckles*).

Zoologger is our weekly column highlighting extraordinary animals – and occasionally other organisms – from around the world

Species: Phallostethus cuulong
Habitat: surface waters of the Mekong River in Vietnam

The male fish, a Phallostethus cuulong just 2 centimetres long, weaves between drifting vegetation in the sluggish waters of a canal. He closes in on a female, swims alongside her and tries to mate with her.

But to an outside observer, he seems to be doing it wrong. His head is right next to the female's, but he's at a 45-degree angle so his rear end is well below hers. Sounds misguided, but actually he's doing it exactly right – it's just that his gonads are on his head.

This is the challenge faced by all priapiumfish, a little-known group of Asian fish that have their reproductive organs on their chins, just behind their mouths. How does this Cronenbergian arrangement work?

Phallic fish

P. cuulong is only the 22nd known priapiumfish, which are named after the ancient Greek fertility deity, Priapus. They all belong to a family calledPhallostethidae and live in south-east Asia.

The new species was discovered in July 2009 by Koichi Shibukawa of theNagao Natural Environment Foundation in Tokyo, Japan. He saw one swimming alone in a canal near the Mekong River in Vietnam, and managed to catch it in a net. Working with colleagues at Can Tho University in Vietnam, he realised it was a new species.

Male priapiumfish don't have a penis like humans and other mammals. Instead they have a unique organ called a priapium, which faces backwards and looks like a muscular nozzle. It's actually a modification of the fish'spectoral and pelvic fins.

The priapium of P. cuulong has two attachments, both of which look frankly dangerous. At the bottom near the tip, there is a forward-facing serrated saw, or ctenactinium. Further forward, right under the head, there is a forward-facing rod called the toxactinium.

Machinery of love

No one has seen P. cuulong mating, but based on observations of other species it's likely that the saw and rod are used for grasping the female during mating. One goes on either side of her head, holding her still while the male transfers his sperm.

To help with this, the priapium tends to be shunted to one side. The six maleP. cuulong that Shibukawa found all had theirs on the right: other species tend to be left-priapiumed, or a mixture of the two.

The system seems to work. The oviducts of female priapiumfish tend to be stuffed full of sperm, so pretty much every egg gets fertilised.

Why, evolution, why?

We don't know why priapiumfish evolved their peculiar gonads, says Lynne Parenti of the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, DC.

They belong to a big group called the Atherinomorpha, which includes many other species with modified fins that transfer sperm. In most cases, like guppies and splitfins, it's the anal fin that's modified. The priapiumfish are a variation on this theme, Parenti says.

It's not just the reproductive organs that are attached to the priapiumfish's head: so too is its bottom. The fish's anus is on its priapium, slightly forward from the genital opening. Its guts perform a U-turn to reach it.

"There's not much going on at the back of these fish," Parenti says.

For my precious Moon Pie :)

She has been living in this warm pink house in the suburbs I grew in and opened her home and heart to me when I was about seven or eight years old. The minute I crossed her threshold, my little kid self would be anticipating one of her signature surprises: New flavors to discover? Soap bubbles in her swimming pool? Plenty of fun arts and crafts that would occupy us for hours on her back patio? A special furry kitty to pet? (I miss that cat...Oh my was she magical).  I have such fond memories of my sweet Moona ( I will call her this way since she would prefer I do not disclose her name on the internet). But the amazing thing is that she is still my Moona, even across all that geographic distance between us. I would have never expected that she would become closer to my heart, especially after I moved from Montreal to the D.C area.

She clearly wasn't just any neighbor. Dear Moona has been and still is a true source of comfort in my life. She entered my life when I was that tiny and has never left my life since. With her, I can remain as small as I want, but she will always see through my full potential and elevate me, like the moon acts on the tide. She is truly a guiding moon in my life, witnessing all miracles, hurdles, bumps and silver linings that come across my path. She is with me no matter where I go, in thoughts and prayers and she'd always know how to keep an appropriate distance when it was time for advice and crisis. Like the moon, she is there, omnipresent, but never overpowering, and I can be certain of one thing: I will never get a moon burn. She is a friend that I cherish and it is such a beautiful friendship that goes beyond race, generations, and life experiences. All those differences make our friendship so rich and magnificent. I hope she knows how much I value her. Hopefully she will know after reading this...

Thank you Moona for being there, and for being there to look over my beloved grandmother every time we were worried about her safety, while she was alone at home.  You rose to the occasion, every single time and showed such care that my entire family was blown away. Your heart is pure and good. I am deeply sorry for all those times in your life you were misunderstood. Moona is a family member that I chose to have in my life. You are truly one of a kind. ♥

Ice cream parfait


I was born in 1979, but it was only in the year 2000 when I finally truly felt alive. That was the year I met Komar. The very instant I saw him, his eyes quietly told me that from that point on, I wasn't alone anymore. I was finally understood, and most amazingly, I was blessed with his unconditional love. The kind of love that we have is so special, I have a hard time finding the right words to describe it. It is magical, musical, poetic, innocent and pure yet, so strong and responsible. It is amazing to wake up every single day with such passion in our hearts to live up to what we see in each other. I believe in him. He believes in me. We support each other through every challenge and bliss that life throws at us and our love never cease to grow, day by day. Twelve years ago, I knew, and today, I still know. He is the best thing that has ever happened to me. He allowed me to transform, and be who I always wanted to be and will be. Nine years ago, on the same date when we first met, we got married and we promised to each other, in front of the entire world, that we would not only love each other forever, but we would love each other every day. There was not one single day, nor moment, where I didn't feel his love. I feel so grateful for this kind of love, and for the beautiful children that we have created together. I love my children unconditionally, and even more because when I look at them, I see him. Happy Anniversaries to the man I love, my best friend, truly. There is nowhere I want to be, except right by him, every day, forever.  ♥ ♥ ♥

 And then he grabs his banana and leaves...

Dear hubby and I were having some dozy pillow talk and I asked him what his morning routine was like nowadays, since we used to have our mornings together. For his previous job, he'd wake up at eight and not leave until nine thirty but now, he's up by five thirty and gone by six. I am still snoring at that time, of course, unless I am feeding baby but I normally roll straight back to sleep. 

So there he was, walking me through his morning routine, from his zombie wakening state to his Axe fragrance freshness and as a finale, he punctuated his story with, "And then, I grab my banana and leave."


Me: " Ha ha ha ha!....You walk around with a banana in your hand in the morning without a bag? (not that there is anything wrong with it)"


Him: "Yeh. That is what I do every morning, unless I forget the banana on the counter."


Me: "That's funny." 


Him: " Well, the other day, I bumped into our neighbor Rob and he had TWO bananas in his hands on his way to work!"


I will admit it may come across as juvenile but I found it so amusing the image of a bunch of serious somnolent, professionally-dressed men walking around with a banana in their hands on their way to work, while it is still dark and too early in the morning. Funny not because of the possible innuendo with the banana, but just for the image itself. But then, I was always charmed seeing a man all suited up holding or biting into an apple. Go figure. Perhaps for the contrast maybe? I know if I was still in art school, that would be the theme that I would choose to paint as a final project: a canvas depicting several business attired men walking like zombies in the dark with a banana in their hands. Get the picture? *chuckles*.

Chicken Soup for the Dog Lover's Soul

There is no psychiatrist in the world like a puppy licking your face. ~Ben Williams

Acquiring a dog may be the only opportunity a human ever has to choose a relative  ~ Mordecai Siegal

I think dogs are the most amazing creatures; they give unconditional love. For me, they are the role model for being alive. ~ Gilda Radner

The dog is the only animal that has seen his god. ~Author Unknown

My goal in life is to be as good of a person my dog already thinks I am  ~ Author Unknown

Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole.  ~ Roger Caras

The most affectionate creature in the world is a wet dog.  ~Ambrose Bierce

The reason a dog has so many friends is that he wags his tail instead of his tongue.  ~Author Unknown

Whoever said you can't buy happiness forgot little puppies.  ~Gene Hill

Sweet Roxie, our furry friend, you will be missed. I hope you will find millions of happy treats, yummy bones and larges fields to run around in dog heaven.  Rest in peace little Roxie. You lived a nice long happy life and were very well loved. :*(

Ocean Spray...

I have to confess, but the very first time I heard about female ejaculation, I was mystified. No pun intended. lol

I still remember that day, when I was in my Sex Psychology class, an elective class I took in College. The teacher decided to show us a video of "La femme fontaine" and I couldn't help but browse throughout the entire class to try to guess which girls had received this gift from the Gods (or was it a curse? I wasn't too sure) depending on their reactions and body language while watching the video. It was way less awkward than actually keeping my eyes on the screen, while I was in public...I remember my Queen Victoria sighing with envy that day...

I think that was, by far, the most disturbing anatomical discovery for the curious young girl that I was. I learned that only ten percent of women were able to sprinkle across the room like an erupting geyser, but was that a true statistic? Then I started talking about it with some girlfriends and realized some of them had their own irrigation system built in. I was impressed. So impressed I had to look this phenomenon out on the internet. I thought to myself, those porn stars, they are all faking their orgasms, but the sprinkling ones, they are not. They must have fun for real! That was until one of my girls told me she and many more could just spray on command and it does not correlate to an orgasm necessarily. Fascinating, isn't it? I wonder what that liquid is made of. I probably could look it up but I'm not THAT motivated. I like to speculate it must be the same amniotic fluid that's inside the uterus when the water breaks before delivering a baby.

I still remember my guy friend telling me a few years before that, that he was having a great time with this girl until she decided to pee all over his bed sheets. I had no idea it was female ejaculation back then, so didn't he, nor she. They both were so shocked apparently. And I thought the teenage boys had it bad, having to hide their dirty laundry after a wet dream...What happens to the poor young teenage girl who wandered alone too long and turned her room into a swamp? What does she tell her parents when they see the room all flooded? The thought of this cracks me up. No pun intended again...

All these stories of girls with muscles so strong they can toss ping pong balls with their Queen Victorias, or throw darts. Well, my Queen Victoria surely does not have any talent like that. Oh, what am I saying? Of course it has talents!! It created my two magnificent sons that I love more than anything in the world. There. I have talents too. (Wait??? Did I just write my own Vagina Monologue?) . :P

When your friends and family are surprised you can cook...

I'm a foodie who loves making people hungry. And I love making people happy. That is most likely the reason why food is my platform  of choice when trying to fulfill these passions of mine. :)

Funny (or is it sad?) that it is the people who are the closest (or semi-closest, since my husband doesn't apply to this rule, nor some of my very dear friends), that the people who know me the most are the ones who believe the least in me...When I started this blog, it was my closest friends who doubted me with a silent (or not so silent) reaction wondering what I could possibly be writing about.  I have many close friends, but I can count only two or three of them who actually visit this blog often to check for new updates. All the other ones have never read anything. They just like to assume they know everything they need to know about me already. All my most positive feedback come from complete strangers....Why is it that we would rather admire and support a complete stranger rather than someone from our circle of trusted people?

I guess the answer is that everyone wants to see us in their limited world view. My friends and family know me in a certain way and it would require too much energy to open their minds and discover other aspects of me. Well, eating at someone's house doesn't mean you know what's in their fridge...

Joss Whedon's TV show Dollhouse was interesting as it treated this topic: you are someone for everyone but inside you are nothing...Well, that's what people would want you to be to them, it seems like. We find people close to us as pathetic because we see some aspects of them and we judge them for it. We don't give a chance to see the other sides or not care to see those other sides. It is apparent that I am not the only person who has been doubted so this shouldn't stop me from doing what I enjoy doing the most: making others happy in the best of my capacity.

Have you ever found your friend's parents so cool while your friends rolled their eyes in shame when their parents crack a joke or did something to get your attention? Don't we all like to feel ashamed of our closed ones in public? A total stranger on the radio would say the very same thing and we'd be rolling on the floor laughing but when it's our father...Nah. Same thing for advice. I've been repeating the same love and relationship advice to some of my girlfriends, over and over. And one day, they'd come to me all excited because someone was so insightful and told them the exact same thing I've been telling them. Just because they are strangers...(*shaking my head*). We all choose our battles. I gave up on that one. I figure, if they want to hear me out, they will. I stopped wasting my time trying to "save" them, especially if they didn't want to be saved...at least not by me. We must have become so close that I became like family to them, and that came with their inconveniences...

What annoys me the most though is when I share a new project or idea with a close friend. Instead of showing any interest in my brewing ideas, they astutely point out how I love getting attention. Good job, my friend, at stating the obvious, but can we move on to my idea I'd like to share with you and get any sort of feedback? I wonder sometimes, whenever they go to the movie theater, if they spend the entire movie being annoyed that Hollywood stars crave for constant attention, or do they actually enjoy the movie and the work those stars and crew put into making this movie. Of course I enjoy the attention, but that is not the point.

Another example of becoming too close to someone, so close they don't seem to see you anymore: The other day, I was happily sharing my candor to a friend about some positive feedback I got from this blog and all she could say was "Oh..Mkay..People have some time to spare it seems like". Another friend kept on pointing out how weird this girl from college was for commenting constantly on my Facebook. Since we weren't close back in school, but now, we interact a lot online, my friend noticed it and thought she was so strange to do that all of sudden. Why strange? Can't she like me for the same reason my friend likes me? If she is my friend, why would it be strange that someone else discovers me later on, even if it's not in person? It makes me wonder sometimes...

It is much easier to inspire people you don't know than those who believe they know everything about you. But in all fairness, I tend to raise one eyebrow too, whenever someone I know well surprises me with something I wouldn't expect, coming from them...

An amazing family that I heart and pray for every single day. ♥ ♥ ♥

Strawberry Shortcake and Bananaman

Growing up in the 80's, there were cartoons targeting girls and some targeting boys. Boys would love Bananaman, The Transformers, GI Joe, ThunderCats and He-Man mostly. I used to love watching Strawberry Shortcake, My Little Pony, Jem and the Holograms and the Care Bears. As a kid, no one told me it was for girls, and I don't think anyone really decided those were the only shows I was allowed to watch. I spent most of my days with my grandma who only spoke Cambodian. She didn't and couldn't filter what I could or could not watch (aside from the blatant violent scenes or adult content). It seemed to be my natural preference to lean towards those shows for girls since all the layout was in my pastel color palette. I loved pink and all those programs were painted in pink galore. I tried watching ThunderCats and enjoyed it, but I would always prefer my girlie stuff.

I never thought about all these gender dividing programs until I heard a friend saying she was against her son watching Dora the Explorer since it was a show targeting little girls. She made it seem like she would be more tolerant if he had a sister and would watch it with her. But since he doesn't, it would be wrong to expose him to a girlie show (even though Dora is no where near as girlie as My Little Pony for instance). I personally wasn't sure I understood the difference and what impact it would have on the boy whether he had a sister or not. The show would still be the same. While trying to understand her rationale behind all of it, I asked her why she wouldn't let him watch Dora. She responded that it was the parent's duty to decipher between what is right or wrong for their children. I couldn't agree more with her since that statement seemed more than obvious to me. That was the way I would describe the role of a parent. But she did not answer my question: Why not Dora? (asides from the fact that I am annoyed by Dora's high pitch voice...)

I knew this topic would be hot for a great discussion. I really wished she knew why she believed what she believed. I asked what she was afraid of but all I could get was her coming to the conclusion that we had different opinions. She concluded before the topic even started. The thing is, I didn't even get to express my opinion yet so how did she assume mine was different? (well, maybe because I questioned her, it was apparent that my reasoning was diverging from hers) but I was still interested in hearing her out. The conversation unfortunately ended that way...

The thing is, she most likely knew why she banned Dora, but chose not to say it, knowing it was a delicate topic. She did not want to face any confrontation being the sweet girl that she is. But how could she expect no reaction when she makes such a bold comment in public?

I will speculate by saying that she did not want her son to watch Dora so that it wouldn't make him become gay....Maybe it's not that, but then, why else wouldn't she respond to such simple question?
Now here's my opinion, assuming it was a because of a homophobic reason.

First of all, I am TIRED of all these expressions "He's all boy" when a little boy acts crazy hyper and wants to destroy everything...And seeing calmer or more intellectual kids labeled as "non-typical boy". In case it wasn't obvious, let me remind everyone that if you have a penis, you are a boy (unless he tells you otherwise) and if she has a vagina, she is a girl (unless she believes the other way around). Whether they want to have sex with a boy or girl doesn't matter in the nature of their gender. They are still boys or girls no matter what orientation they have.

Secondly, unless there was a trauma of any sort, I don't believe anyone "becomes" gay, the same way we cannot "ungay" someone either. And when I say trauma, I am NOT implying homosexuality to be any form of disease, but I mean, like ANY kind of trauma, who knows, it could change anyone in the ways they act. I may be no expert in this matter, but from everything learned and read on that topic and from everyone I met, I am mostly certain that most homosexual are born gay. It is not a contagious disease that you could catch and you certainly wouldn't become gay if you are a little boy and watched Dora as a kid!

To come back to my friend: hypothetically if her son enjoyed Dora, if he is heterosexual, he may just end up having a crush on the female character, or get bored after watching the show and choose, with his own initiative to not want to watch it. And if her son IS a homosexual, then, it doesn't mean he'll like the show Dora, nor that it's bad that he is an homosexual. He could be gay and LOVE the Transformers too! I'm not sure if I made my point clearly...

What alarms me the most with this type of mentality, is the type of teenager and adult her son will become. She said clearly it was the parent's responsibility to decipher between right and wrong for their kids, so, what is she teaching him by not letting him watch Dora? What does she say in front of him about boys who do watch those girlie shows? I am afraid that is the source of how bullies are created. At home. They learn intolerance and it comes straight from their parents...

As a mother of two boys, I am hoping deeply to raise well-rounded happy kids who become ambitious, positively competitive, strong from outside and within, compassionate, but most importantly, tolerant and acceptant of other's differences. Oh, and why not add nurturing too.

Love Cake has a Facebook fan page! :D

My dear valuable readers, 

I would like to invite you to visit the new Love Cake Facebook page! If you like reading me, please go visit that page and "Like" it. That will definitely make my day!

Thank you in advance for the support! 

Davine ♥ ♥

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Love-Cake-Blog/122849737800930

That awkward moment when you're on a date and he orders a salad right after you ordered a big juicy steak...

There is this preconceived notion and expectation that women have a smaller appetite than men. The common belief seems to be that women have a smaller appetite for food, sex or ambition, and when we encounter one that is more vocal and aware of her needs, men (and even some women) become intimidated by them. I find it discouraging when I hear stories of men feeling threatened by women with power. Any kind of power. Sex drive seem to be the scariest...It takes me back to those old days where witches were persecuted for having special capabilities...Those men are stupid...The day they will understand that they are in best hands with a woman with power, that is when their world will turn upside down.

Our society hyper-sexualizes everything and loudly sends out messages of what an average man fantasizes about: A clueless, wet (there is always a wet element: her wet hair, white t-shirt, her moist lips or nonetheless, her dripping Queen Victoria) woman licking everything and anything without questioning anything and ending innocently in sexy pauses and ready to receive, smirking like a deer in the headlight. They want her hungry...but never HUNGRY. Not because they wouldn't like it, but because they don't think those women really exist, and those who enjoy sex are often judged as sluts. Most women, because of this preconceived notion of them having the appetite of a bird, often don't allow themselves to feed their hunger to the fullest.

I applaude the caveman who would rather pay for a prostitute to fulfill his dirtiest fantasies rather than presenting the idea to his steady partner. (insert sarcasm here). His excuse being that he respects his love too much to degrade her to such activity and it would change his holy perception of her. Well, he definitely didn't care about her changing her perception of HIM. How is that respectful to seek someone else? A street worker or not. And the assumption that she wouldn't enjoy it, but if she dared to enjoy it, she'd have to face his judgment afterward, even though he should know her by now...All of this exasperates me. And yes, I know men who did that to some girls I know.

I know a husband who would love watching porn but never allow his wife to watch it. She's too good for porn. That same guy runs to take a shower after each time they are done having sex, as if it was so dirty or something. I don't care which denomination you worship, but I am certain there is no literature out there that forbid being nasty with the person you are married to. MOST religions forbid adultery but there is no where where it says married couples cannot have some wild fun. Oh, and speaking of wild, I am tired of wild being synonym for sadomasochist activities!! Too many sexual aberrations I can handle. It doesn't affect me personally, thankfully, but it drains me to know that some of my girls are subjected to such archaic view of their intimacy...or more so, LACK of REAL intimacy. And intimacy isn't limited to coitus or an explosive finale.

The main problem I believe, is the lack of general sex education. I'm not talking about a class where you learn about your anatomy and what a clitoris is. I am talking about learning about self-esteem, and the value of intimacy. Learning about our minds, sex drive and what catalyst triggers what, and the obscure and unexplored side of our subconscience. In some cultures, they have trainings about how to become a companion. In the Kama Sutra for instance, it's not only about sex positions, but also mastering the art of intimacy. Discovering, savoring, maximizing the sensual experience in its purest, fusional form. Our society lacks of sex education leading to increasing our sex intellect. Back to my food analogy, there is a lack of food culture and knowledge of refined food. People settle for junk food or just family friendly food, and in some cases, some take out. Refining your vision of sexuality doesn't turn you into a wild nymphomaniac necessarily. Even the finest mushroom truffle has one feature that makes it valuable: its wildness.

I dream of a day when women will learn to master their wildness and men will have developed minds and taste buds enough to value them. Here, I am talking, beyond the whipped cream, lingeries, and dirty talk...And just like when ordering at a restaurant: don't go there as a food critic, but keep on ordering the same things and trying new things on the menu...They will end up catching on what you like...Woman can be ladies in the outside world but it is OK to turn into a refined minx in the bedroom...or in the kitchen, or why not the staircase?

One more point I would like to make is that guilt people keep on having when having their minds wander. Let your mind wander and have fun together. Be opportunist, sneaky. Plan ahead. Surprise him or her and switch the power house around. It's ok to crave for just a raw fish right away, or just a greasy French fry, or start craving for just a fry and turning it into a ten course meal....And sometimes, chocolate can go in a beef chili con carne, and bacon can be added to a chocolate...Bottom line, YOU make the rules...

Does organic food turn people into jerks?

A very interesting article about food snobs, or to be politically correct, people who become self-righteous because of their choices of food they eat, in this case, organic food. But I have noticed the same amount of arrogance coming from vegan people as well...I find amusing someone took the time to make this study. :P

By Diane Mapes

Renate Raymond has encountered her fair share of organic food snobs, but a recent trip to a Seattle market left her feeling like she'd stumbled onto the set of "Portlandia."

"I stopped at a market to get a fruit platter for a movie night with friends but I couldn't find one so I asked the produce guy," says the 40-year-old arts administrator from Seattle. "And he was like, 'If you want fruit platters, go to Safeway. We're organic.' I finally bought a small cake and some strawberries and then at the check stand, the guy was like 'You didn't bring your own bag? I need to charge you if you didn't bring your own bag.' It was like a 'Portlandia skit.' They were so snotty and arrogant."

As it turns out, new research has determined that a judgmental attitude may just go hand in hand with exposure to organic foods. In fact, a new studypublished this week in the journal of Social Psychological and Personality Science, has found that organic food may just make people act a bit like jerks.

"There's a line of research showing that when people can pat themselves on the back for their moral behavior, they can become self-righteous," says author Kendall Eskine, assistant professor of  the department of psychological sciences at Loyola University in New Orleans. "I've noticed a lot of organic foods are marketed with moral terminology, like Honest Tea, and wondered if you exposed people to organic food, if it would make them pat themselves on the back for their moral and environmental choices. I wondered if  they would be more altruistic or not."

To find out, Eskine and his team divided 60 people into three groups. One group was shown pictures of clearly labeled organic food, like apples and spinach. Another group was shown comfort foods such as brownies and cookies. And a third group -- the controls -- were shown non-organic, non-comfort foods like rice, mustard and oatmeal. After viewing the pictures, each person was then asked to read a series of vignettes describing moral transgressions.

"One vignette was about second cousins having sex," says Eskine. "Another was about a lawyer on the prowl in an ER trying to get people to sue for their injuries. Then the groups made moral judgments on a scale from one to seven."

In another phase of the study, the three groups were asked to volunteer for a (fictitious) study, with each person writing down the amount of time -- from zero to 30 minutes -- that they would be willing to volunteer.

The results did not bode well for the organic folks.

"We found that the organic people judged much harder compared to the control or comfort food groups," says Eskine. "On a scale of 1 to 7, the organic people were like 5.5 while the controls were about a 5 and the comfort food people were like a 4.89."

When it came to helping out a needy stranger, the organic people also proved to be more selfish, volunteering only 13 minutes as compared to 19 minutes (for controls) and 24 minutes (for comfort food folks).

"There's something about being exposed to organic food that made them feel better about themselves," says Eskine. "And that made them kind of jerks a little bit, I guess."

Why does eating better make us act worse? Eskine says it probably has to do with what he calls "moral licensing."

"People may feel like they've done their good deed," he says. "That they have permission, or license, to act unethically later on. It's like when you go to the gym and run a few miles and you feel good about yourself, so you eat a candy bar."

Eskine says he was surprised by the findings ("You'd think eating organic would make you feel elevated and want to pay it forward," he says) and hopes to do additional studies that look at conditions that might prompt people to act differently.

Until then, organic eaters may want to rein in those self-righteous stink-eyes.

"At my local grocery, I sometimes catch organic eyes gazing into my grocery cart and scowling," says Sue Frause, a 61-year-old freelance writer/photographer from Whidbey Island. "So I'll often toss in really bad foods just to get them even more riled up."

The Starbucks Experience...in your love life ♥

This is not a promotion campaign for Starbucks and they did not pay me to make this analogy...I simply could not come up with a  better comparison to make my point for this post...

So...What makes Starbucks so successful? How did they turn plain coffee that we are all familiar with and take for granted into such business phenomenon? The magic answer is "The Starbucks Experience".  They were able to convert what's ordinary into extraordinary.

Converting what's ordinary into extraordinary is key to happiness, I firmly believe. Not limited to your love life, but in every aspects of your life.  Everyday is filled with mundane tasks and obligations, but if you take the time to appreciate all what you have as blessings, you will discover how beautiful your life can be...

"Enjoy the little things in life...For one day, you'll look back and realize they were the big things. "

One morning, as I was preparing a bottle for my baby, tears ran down my face when I saw an unopened box of baby formula on our kitchen counter.  It made me cry because that morning,  I realized how caring my husband was (more caring than I already thought I knew), beyond the love and affection, but how he CONSTANTLY thinks of us all and is always ahead of us to fulfill our needs. Not only does he work hard, allowing me to stay home and raise both our sons, but he always makes sure we lack of nothing when he comes home. Day and night, he goes above and beyond to take care of us. The sight of that box of formula was just a reminder of his thoughtfulness and here's why:

I absolutely dislike digging into our unfinished and cold garage, where most our things are stocked...Knowing that, my dear husband always made sure HE was the one who went into the garage, everyday, to get everything we need: toilet paper, breakfast waffles, tissue boxes, baby formula etc...This could be mundane and no one would cry because of their husband's amazing stocking and inventory tracking capabilities...But it isn't about those skills solely. It's about his love for us. He did not HAVE to go in the garage all the time. But without us asking him, he goes and has been worrying about keeping track of everything so we wouldn't have to lack of anything. And he never failed on taking care of us and making us feel loved. And that, I am very grateful for. Amongst a million other things.

I have been taking for granted being able to enjoy watching all the same TV shows with my love. I did not know it wasn't common until I heard girls complain about it. Doing the grocery is so fun with my husband. I cannot explain why but it has always been something I deeply enjoyed with him. Pillow talk, waking up in the middle of the night to go to the restroom and realizing he's up as well, for the same reason, so I get another five minutes of awareness of him by my side, and kissing, half asleep, in the middle of the bathroom... All these simple things that fill out my heart and soul...You would say it doesn't take me much to appreciate things? I would then ask you, " Why do you need so much and why would anything else make you happier?"

Watching my husband dress up to go to work (delicious sight); realizing he's staring at me smiling when I thought I was alone doing something goofy; having him bring my glasses before I realize I left them in the kitchen before we get ready to watch our favorite show; him still waving at me when he's outside mowing the lawn, or out of the car pumping gas, like we used to do twelve years ago. Kiddish, you would say. Well, why not kiddish? Who else can you be that way with?

All these little attentions are the most valuable things in the world to me. It's not just about sex and attraction, it's about all the tiny little things. People notice all the tiny little things that annoy them. How about counting all the tiny little things that make you feel lucky, loved and appreciated?

Once again, turning what could pass for ordinary (because it is nothing but ordinary) into seeing it as extraordinary...