The Three Types of Leftovers

I have identified three types of left-overs that I am comparing to food. Draw your own conclusions at your leisure.

Type 1:
When you order your food at the restaurant, you absolutely love every second of it! You are sad that you have to stop eating so you put your food in a to-go box so that you have the opportunity to eat it the next day. When you get home the next day, you find that somebody has taken your leftovers for themselves. You are pissed and outraged. Those were yours! How dare they!? How could this happen?!

Type 2:
When you order your food at the restaurant, you liked the food and it was fine, but you were never that excited. The food did its purpose. You took a to-go box for a few reasons, but none of them being because you were excited to eat the meal again. Most of the reasons you even took the to-go box were not valid. For example, maybe it was because your friend also took a to-go box and you didn't want him or her to feel weird. Maybe you took it because you felt bad leaving it. Maybe you took it because you thought there would be no other food in your house tomorrow so it would be nice to have another option. Whatever the reason, you take them. Again, the next day they are gone. You either didn't notice that someone took them or threw them away, or you were happy that somebody else was able to enjoy the food because you really didn't care.

Type 3:
When you order your food at the restaurant, you absolutely love every second of it! You are sad that you have to stop eating so you put your food in a to-go box so that you have the opportunity to eat it the next day. However, when you got home that night you were shocked and destroyed because that food gave you food poisoning. You were so physically sick that you regretted every single bit and wish you knew before hand this was going to happen so you could have avoided it. But you didn't have the luxury of your 20/20 hindsight when you were eating it. You were innocent and just enjoying it, why did this have to happen to you? When you get yourself together the next day you see that the leftovers are gone. So many things go through your head. Hopefully it got thrown out because you never want to see it again and it really would be tragic if someone were to eat that poisoned food. If somebody did take that food, you feel mixed about it. Part of you thinks that's what you get for taking leftovers, but the other part of you feels bad for them because that was truly dramatic and you really don't want to wish that on anyone. Maybe you will find out one day, but for now you are glad to be (mostly) healed from the poison but more glad to have that tricky-delicious-but-killer-food out of your life.

And that is my analogy of the three types of leftovers.

How to Gracefully Quit Your Job

I am so excited to announce that I am starting a new chapter in my life. I found a great career opportunity; I couldn't say no!

From the initial contact with the company to the job offer, it has been two and a half months. What a long process. I am glad that it was a long process because I had time to think and reflect and consider all of my options. In doing so, I am confident that I made the right choice.

I find myself very excited and dreaming of all of my career possibilities and what I can do with my shiny new paycheck. Once I decided that I was taking the job and the offer went through, I knew it was time to quit my current job. I don't want people to think that what "they" say about millennials  is right, so I won't tell you how I know, but I have learned a lot about how to gracefully quit your job.

Now the quitting: I am so nervous and my heart is pounding even though I know I am doing the right thing. I think I was getting nervous for two reasons. First, I knew that when I was interviewing and I was looking my boss in the eye that I was being honest. Although I am not going back on my word, I do have to face the fact that I feel that I am not completely delivering on the person I promised to be in my interview. Second, when I give my notice there is no turning back; I will have to live with this decision forever.

First thing I do is I pray and then call my mom for a confidence pep talk, like a real adult. After I am confident in myself, I call my boss. I would prefer to tell my boss to her face, but we work remotely as sales reps so, in my opinion, the phone is appropriate. I tell her that a great opportunity has presented itself to me and that I had the obligation to myself and my career to say yes. I thanked her for letting me join her team and told her that I wouldn't have gotten the opportunity with out this company. I also made it personal and truthfully told her that she is the hardest working boss that I have ever had and that it was inspirational. She thanked me for the kind words and congratulated me on my position. Then she asked me to send her an official letter of resignation including the date of my last day. I was ready for this. I already had the letter written and had it in my draft email box ready to go. I sent it right over.

To be graceful, and grateful, I emailed all the upper management who put any energy or effort in my career. There were a few bosses who have all of my respect so I wanted them to hear from me and not from HR or through gossip. I also want them to know that I am confident in my decision and that it is a business, not a personal, decision and that we can still have a professional relationship when I move on. It is a way for me to get it all out on the table and be as respectful as possible. I feel like it is a way to face an uncomfortable situation head on.

That's how I gracefully quit my job.

What a Feeling

This is my take on dating a guy who you can’t get enough of. It is too early in the relationship to know anything but hope and to feel anything but amazing. It’s incredible and rare, and here is my best:

It’s that once in a while (not once in a lifetime but certainly more rare than holidays) feeling where you are enchanted by a smile, a touch, and a kiss. You spend your whole day not caring one bit about anything bad in your life and you feel like, finally, everything is going to be all right. You know nothing is perfect, but you also know that the imperfections are well worth wading through the tough waters. It’s that feeling when all you do is smile and all you want to do is tell everyone that finally, who you have been waiting for, made his way to your doorstep. You are thrilled by how handsome he is and you wish you had pictures to show everyone because he is such a babe. You can’t stop smiling. You are thankful for your ex’s because they helped you appreciate the man in front of you by giving you a firm foundation of what is not acceptable and what is required.

He texts you right away and he follows through with the plan he makes. He even throws you for a loop by calling your phone (wow). You shouldn’t be so amazed by how great he is, but you are because you realize how rare it is to find such a gem. He is so sweet, and everything about him seems perfect. You know he checks the immediate qualifications of a serious boyfriend. It’s amazing. Arrow through the heart. Cupid got me good. Mush.

It’s that first comfortable Friday night when you don’t dress up or go anywhere and you have somebody who wants to be beside you. You watch TV and you laugh about your day. You talk about “what-if” in the universe and you discuss your childhood and what you think is right in the world. You have always enjoyed being alone but it is so nice to have a special someone.

You hope to God that it works out, that you don’t move to fast, or that you don’t put out vibes to scare him away. You hope he is genuine and that the guy you met is the guy he is. You are afraid this feeling will fade fast, or worse, it will be ripped away in a blindsided robbery. You hope you can open your whole heart and be yourself and that for once, it will work out. You came around to believing in love and you finally met someone to give it a whirl with.

This is what infatuation and lust feels like. This is what it feels like to be a human; the most rare emotion to encounter. The feeling that makes you do irrational things and be happy in a way that you can barely describe. When you are not around, you think of when you are…and you begin to feel woozy, but in the good way.

What a feeling.

Tuesday Dave

We met through Tinder...that’s your first sign that this is going to be a great story.

Dave, the Tinder candidate, has a lot going for him. He is an engineer at a VERY reputable company, he owns a boat, and his pictures make him look pretty cute. Score!

We both were going to be on the beach on Sunday afternoon, so he said he would text me and if we were both around we could get a drink or something. Okay, sounds good to me.

I was just laying on the beach and Dave texts to meet up. Although I was almost ready to go, I decide to stay a little longer and meet up with him. As he walks up, he is literally hauling his bike on the sand to come meet me. It is 80 degrees outside and he is sweating pretty bad. He explains that he forgot his bike lock. I think to myself, Dave! You could’ve had me meet you on the path since we were going to head towards Main Street anyways!

As we start walking Dave tells me that he was just at the dog beach—strange seeing as he does not have a dog. But he explains that his ex-girlfriend and him share their two dogs that they got when they were together. He tells me that they used to live together and were in the relationship for six years. When they broke up, she moved to a guest bedroom in his house. Apparently the only reason that she moved out is because she could no longer afford rent and had to move to a more affordable location. He is now living with interns from foreign countries that work at his company. They always find the next room mate, so, like a hostel, his house is always full of foreigners.

His ex still comes over to the house everyday to drop the dogs off because his schedule is more flexible. It’s best for the kids dogs that they split custody. I’m so glad they are so close. They are civil to be going to the dog beach together. I asked what kind of dogs they are. Maltese’s. Both of them are Maltese’s. Tuesday Dave is playing dad over two little fluffy fruffy dogs. How manly.

Wow! Wait, there is more!

He recently celebrated his 30^th birthday. He threw a “Black Light Party” at his house. I thought it sounded a little swanky; perhaps he does have class? I questioned him to probe more information about how a black light party works. He kept explaining that they had the whole house blacked out and put black lights up in every room. I learned that laundry detergent is the best black light “paint” because it is clean but has the nice florescent glow. He has been partying for a week straight because the theme was such a hit. He even had pictures (my right eyebrow is raising for all of you readers right now). I only wish I had those photos.

The pictures perfectly resembled a college party. He hung tarps in his basement (some falling and some hanging crooked). What a great party (sarcastic tone intended).

Are you asking yourself how he got the name Tuesday Dave? Well, here it is:

He tells me he goes to a bar every week (think about that bar where everyone who just turned 21 goes to get plastered). The bar is in Huntington Beach and it is called Sharkeez, but I think they should rename it Trasheez. They celebrated his birthday too, which happened to be on a Wednesday this year. They even had a special promotional poster out that says “Tuesday Dave on Wednesday”. He goes to this waste hole of a bar every week on Tuesday to the point that all the workers know him by Tuesday Dave and even made a poster to celebrate his birthday on a Wednesday. How nice.

We finally got to the restaurant, where he had to carry his bike up the stairs so it wouldn’t get stolen. We put our name down for a table then got a drink at the bar and tabbed out when our table was ready. He ordered chips. We talked a little more and I told him I lived in Huntington Beach. He had a very confused look on his face and started to say “Oh I thought you” but then stopped. He kept this confused look on his face and continued to dig into the deep recesses of his mind because he clearly could not keep his Tinder accounts straight. Tuesday Dave is clearly a lady killer.

He then talks about how he goes out on his boat every Wednesday, actually, a boat that him and his buddy co-own. He says he has to get at least 20 people on board when they go to Catalina because that is the best way to split the gas bill. Otherwise, it is cheaper just to take the ferry. And bonus: he said I was welcome to come any time I want. Perfect! Wait, is he going to charge me to get on his boat?

He stares down at his phone as he gets messages (which you all know how I feel about that). He said his buddy is having a pool party right now and wants to know if I want to go.

Hold on Tuesday Dave! I just met you and that was a lot of social pressure to commit to hanging out with you the next few hours. I do not know your random friend and I don’t want to go to his pool party. Plus, it is a Sunday: who is partying that hard on a Sunday!? And finally, there is the small fact that I already want to leave because you are clearly an idiot!

“Yes! I would love to go!” I responded. I figured he would have to take his precious bike, which would not fit in my car. I would get to my car and tell him my roommate just said she was making lasagna and I would have to be a damn fool to say no to that. He would understand and I would never have to see him again.

We were ready to leave and ate all of the chips. He asks the waitress to make sure the chips were free (they were). He doesn’t even leave a tip. I am horrified, which makes me feel even better that the lasagna lie played out perfectly to plan.

Over the next few days I heard a little bit from Tuesday Dave, but I figure that my consistent response of saying no to him is what made him quit contacting me.

And that is the story of Tuesday Dave.

My Take on Pizza: Italy vs. USA

So, when I made it to Italy there were so many things I was so excited to eat! There are so many dishes in the United States that we call "Italian" and I was excited to see the original recipes. The first one being spaghetti (sorry if you thought I was going to say pizza haha). It was amazing and they make it in so many different ways, my favorite being the zucchini spaghetti.

Besides the spaghetti, I also wanted to try authentic Italian pizza! Growing up, my mom made me pizza from scratch (even the dough) all the time. I remember loving to help her make it with my friends during our slumber parties (cheers to slumber parties in the 90's--can you hear a Mary Kate and Ashley song coming on?). Back to Italy though, I had high expectations for this pizza because of my upbringing!

 The picture at the top is pizza from Napoli (AKA Naples). It was ranked on some thing in Italy somewhere as being "the best". I would say that it was very tasty. You can tell the ingredients are fresh. The place was so busy that the pizza was coming hot out of the oven. The crust was well made. It was delicious. HOWEVER (that's a big however haha), I still think my mom makes the best pizza. And, I think Americans put their own spin on pizza in a way that Italians cannot. I think Italians win on the freshness of ingredients because we don't have the tomatoes grown in the rich volcanic soil, and we don't make our cheese from happy cows from up the mountain. But, if you want to put a whole garden on your pizza, they will be mad you even asked in Italy. In America, you can get it without question. Although, I think almost all of us can agree that pineapple does not belong on pizza--so America went wrong there. Also, in some places in Italy they have cold pizza sitting in the window and they warm it up when you go to buy it...what a disgrace (but so are the heat lamps used at pizza hut).

America wins on the limitless ingredients we can put on our pizza. For example, I had a chicken pesto pizza that had sundried tomatoes and feta cheese. That's not something you can get in Italy, but the ingredients are still very high quality. We also do crust any way you want: thin, crispy, deep dish, doughy.

Italy wins on the quality of mozzarella and tomato sauce and fresh basil. Every time.

It really should be on all pizza-lovers bucket lists to have pizza in Napoli, and you can tell me what you think.

Have you had pizza abroad or any experiences related to food in Italy? I would love for you to comment below!

The Game on Monday Night: How the Bachelor is a lot Like Watching Football

Being new in Huntington Beach, I was in no position to decline an invitation to a Bachelor viewing party. Not to mention it is hosted at my house by my awesome new room mate. We had a total of five of us watching this show.

Imagine this: a beautiful dinner of pasta and salad followed by a couple hours of Bachelor entertainment. And, like football, everybody has a favorite and thinks she will win the Bachelor's heart. When something crazy happens, we all yell at the TV. It is such a beautiful thing. We can also tell when somebody really screws up, like an emotional fumble. I think that Bachelor viewing parties have perfected the art of trash television viewing.

Plus, just like football we have snacks! And what better snacks than cookies and ice cream!? (None, the answer is none).

I also have recently been introduced to the art of Twitter during the show. When something really stresses you out or makes you laugh, you tweet about it! My top two favorite Tweets that I came up with: I can't wait to see what happens during next weeks game!

Katelyn Phenicie ‏@Phantacie5  13h13 hours ago

Don't spit out delicious food and say that you love hot dogs. Jubilee, you are so gross #TheBachelor #nomanners

Katelyn Phenicie ‏@Phantacie5  14h14 hours ago

Every lady on the bachelor has a profession like event planner, teacher, news anchor, unemployed,&,my personal favorite, twin #TheBachelor

I can't wait to see what happens during next weeks game! If you have anything to add please feel free to do so below!!

Also, if you have time this video is so funny and gives every guy a reason to watch The Bachelor:
https://youtu.be/ahPAaKnKHNU

Going Out on a Limb

I just packed up everything that would fit in my car and I moved over 1,000 miles away from home. I can't help but feel scared. I am honest to myself about my fears and the worst that could happen isn't really that bad, but it doesn't stop me from feeling scared. I can't believe I am doing this.

Do you remember being a kid and trying to run away from home? I tried to do it a few times, however by the time my teddy bear and I got to the corner, we were afraid and lonely and felt like nobody else in the world would love us, so we went back home. I couldn't even walk as far as the park, which I walked to almost everyday. It was incredibly scary.

I'm not that little girl anymore and I am not running away from anything. However, it is still scary thinking about being all alone in this huge world. I know I have family and friends that will always love me. I know that I will make more friends, but in the mean time I am nervous about standing out on the limb of a tree. I am reaching for the fruit, which can only be reached on the limb, however I can feel that the sturdy base of the tree is missing.

I think back to what life was before my adventures ever started. I remember how I felt and I remember what I did from day to day. I don't want to go back there. There is no going back. I may return one day to Colorado, but that life is forever gone to me. The thought keeps me going. Colorado was the strong tree base. Although steady and sturdy, it produces no fruit for me.

Here is to the risk-taker inside of me, and inside of all of us!