Because I am married now, I suppose it's high time I figured out this whole cooking business. I used to blanch at the idea of cooking just because one is married. Surely as a newly-wed student, I would have more important things to do than have lasagna or meat loaf on the table at 5:00 sharp. But I've had a change of heart. There are various reasons for this fact, but it boils down to how much I love eating and how I now have limited access to my mom's amazing cuisine.

I ordered this great cookbook called The Food You Crave by Ellie Krieger. It has recipes that focus on healthy fats and a ton of fruits and vegetables. I've been playing with it a little and Christopher has been a forced participant of my newest craze. Don't get me wrong--the lemon chicken soup with orzo and thyme was great, and the peach french toast bake wasn't bad either. But last night I attempted fettuccine with roasted red pepper sauce and it was pretty terrible. And it was completely my fault. I decided that a hand mixer could take the place of a food processor, and I forgot to drain, rinse, and slice the roasted red peppers. The whole jar went right in and it seriously messed with the sauce's consistency and flavor. Sad.

Christopher gamely took seconds and told me not to get too discouraged. But the truth is, I should have relied on a trusty plate of nachos instead.

"She did not cook so much as assassinate food. "
--Storm Jameson

Last night, my husband and I went to the James Taylor concert at the USANA amphitheater. Being a newlywed, I assumed that it would be a luxury to go to the show now that we have to buy so many things we never knew we would need. (Not-fun things like an iron, comet, flour, etc...) But since I have an awesome husband who can always tell what I want before I'll even admit it
myself, Christopher surprised me with tickets to the concert the day before. It was a great night.


What I love about James Taylor is that he's the voice that has always been around. When I was a little girl, my sisters and I would dance to Steamroller and Shed a Little Light for attention until my dad would pull out his video camera. In junior high, following my oldest sister's lead, I would play his stuff every morning while I failingly attempted to apply makeup only a seventh grader could believe looked good. At the end of that particularly rough school year, Lacey and I got his autograph together at one of his shows in Salt Lake. I consider his voice an old friend by now. His lyrics are so great that just hearing Carolina makes me believe that the south is full of geese in flight, and moons and omens, instead of what is probably true--that it's full of varmints and probably doesn't have a Nordstrom.

Now that James Taylor is getting older, and I am getting older, we remain friends. He let me put Never Die Young on my wedding video, and I changed plans to go to his concert last night. And in another act of friendship, I will suggest that you check out his latest at http://www.jamestaylor.com/

Back from Hawaii! I've got to say that being married is the best. We've been busy setting up our apartment and have become frequent guests at our next door neighbor's place, IKEA. If you have any interest in talking to this happy couple, I'm sure if you wait outside IKEA's glass doors long enough, you will eventually see over-excited Melissa and good-sport Christopher wheeling a cart stacked with things for him to put together. Lucky I married a patient man.

Besides the apartment, we are back to work and feeling a little blue about it. So to cheer myself up, here are some Hawaiian highlights. Enjoy.

  

--having to say Aloha at least 3 times at each event at the Polynesian Cultural Center until we reached the entertainer's enthusiasm satisfaction.

--playing with the sea turtles and swimming with the dolphins.

--seeing a couple dressed to the limits of tourist style (complete with matching flower print shirt and shorts for the woman, fisherman hat and fanny pack for the man) in two different locations on two different days.

--getting a worthwhile sugar headache from a strawberry shaved ice/vanilla ice-cream treat at Matsumoto's in Haleiwa.

--playing on boogie boards in the ocean with Christopher.

--having a husband who loves me enough to help me build a sand castle replica of Thomas Cole's Course of the Empire series complete with snapshots of all five phases...Savage State, Arcadian State, Consummation, Destruction, Desolation...yeah, we already made fun of ourselves enough thanks.

--eating stuffed shrimp at Jameson's overlooking the ocean.

What a great trip.

here we go!

Time to get married! Well, we actually have an inauspicious thirteen days, but we're getting close. Needless to say, we are very very happy. It is so strange that life is normal, and then you decide to get married. Things stay normal, other than a sparkly ring on your left hand, and an ever-present guilt caused by years of swearing that you will never worry about the colors at your wedding celebration, and then actually wanting to cry when the paper store runs out of chartreuse and you're stuck with olive. But one day, you walk into a pretty building with your special friend of choice, someone says a few words, and presto! Everything is different. New ward, new apartment, new utensils, and new kitchen appliances you never knew you needed. Also, you have a new roommate. A boy... And the thing is, semesters, contracts, and study abroad have no effect on the longevity of this roommate experience. No, it doesn't matter if they always forget to rinse their macaroni bowl, or if they use your toothbrush. You can't move home, or politely decline to sign up with them again in the fall. Which is why I'm really lucky that my roommate is Christopher. Because we'll make up for each other's weird habits, I think. I'll let him beat me every time in scrabble, and in return, he'll let me steal his sweats. We'll learn how to use those exotic kitchen appliances together. Everything will work out, just like he's been telling me all along.

Some luck lies not in getting what you thought you wanted but getting what you have, which once you have got it you may be smart enough to see is what you would have wanted had you known. --Garrison Keillor, Lake Woebegone Days

I made this blog today. When it came to the section where I had to name this thing, I panicked. What clever, witty, charming, appropriate title could become the name of my blog, which I am not even convinced I want yet? So I opened my Latin textbook and found that mensa secunda means dessert. Perfect. Thank you, Professor Frederick Wheelock.