Deep Thoughts On My Favorite People

Updated: Up All Night with Will Arnett, Christina Applegate and Maya Rudolph is really funny too. And you know what would be even better? If Will Arnett and his amazing wife Amy Poehler had a reality show about their lives. OMG can you even imagine how amazing that would be???


Don't get too excited, I don't have any real friends to write about. Last fall I decided to share with you a list of my favorite shows on the off-chance you gave a damn. And now I find myself in a similar situation with nothing exciting to blog about either! Woo hoo life progress!

Here are some updated thoughts:

• I still love 30 Rock. I assume they are on hiatus due to Tina's real life pregnancy so I GUESS I can get over it, but these German political ads are not filling the Jackie D void in my life. Please come back.
• Modern Family is the true meaning of fantastic. You should be watching it (specifically looking at you, Ashley), everyone on the Emmy voting committee agrees.
• I've been trying out some new shows because I don't have much better to do, and based on two episodes of each, I like 2 Broke Girls (cheesy, but funny) and New Girl because how can I hate quirky girls? Oh and I'm pretty sure I've met the inspiration for her dbag bro roommate four or five times in Murray Hill.
• Last but not least, my newest true love: Parks & Recreation. I have written before about how my not-so-secret dream involves me, Tina and Amy Poehler being best friends. But now I have a new dream. It involves Aziz Ansari, a fellow lover of puppies, food, and the East Village, being my soulmate. I know, I would also have never guessed a petite Indian guy might be The One, but what can I say, he is amazing. (If you are a fan and haven't seen TomHaverfoods stop what ever you are doing immediately. Now I say!)

Anyway, I really want you all to start watching it so we can talk about it. In an effort to do so, when I saw the following scene last week, I stopped what I was doing and typed it up to share with you. Because I have no life it is that great. Brace yourselves, it includes an inspirational message!  

Ron Swanson: You know when I was 12, my brother shot me in the pinky toe with a nail gun. Granted it was a hilarious prank and we all had a good laugh, but I avoided going to the doctor. I hate paperwork. After a few weeks the toe just kind of fell off.

Leslie Knope: You only have 9 toes? 

Ron Swanson: I have the toes I have. Lets just leave it at that. The point is, the doctor said if i had come in right away, they might have saved the toe. You cant run from your problems

Leslie Knope: Especially if you only have 9 toes. 

Reasons why I love this:
It's great banter. I use the phrase "hilarious prank" regularly. I too hate paperwork and it is a frequent barrier to me seeking medical treatment. And the message that you really shouldn't run from your problems is true. It is exhausting and stressful. And as I get older, running has really started to hurt my knees. If only you could elliptical machine from your problems, then I would endorse it... But seriously, good message. Man up and face your problems. And start watching this show. And come visit and entertain me in Berlin. 

All I Have to Offer You

I warn you now, it's not much. Following an early Saturday morning brunch with my friend Uli (who hosted the party where I met The German), the majority of my time since then has been work-focused.

After being alerted to the fact that my Amsterdam hotel rejected all of the meeting materials shipped to it by my US colleagues ahead of my arrival (don't even get me started), I spent the rest of Saturday running around Berlin trying to track down office supplies (not easy) and making copies. Then I woke up early Sunday to fly to Amsterdam and spent the next 24 hours in and out of meeting rooms. I was in charge of logistics (not my normal role) and to be honest the pressure was killing me. I am the lame kind of person who dreams about work (according to Ashley I was sleep talking to my boss in my "professional voice") and this conference infected my slumber almost every night for the past week.

Luckily everything went smoothly thanks to the beyond-accommodating nature of the Dutch staff who helped me meet a few of the Devil Wears Prada demands placed on me while I was there. I have not had to be that charming and effusively appreciative in a long time but it was worth it since everyone seems happy with me.

Unfortunately I was too overwhelmed in the moment to take any pictures, but Amsterdam is actually an incredibly beautiful city. Although it has an, um, different reputation (whores! drugs!), the Dutch architecture is so charming. So yeah, google some pictures if you want to know what I mean. Worst.blogger.ever.

And that brings us to where I am now: Completely worthless on my couch. I just cannot motivate myself to make an effort to be social this week. Also I have a new addiction. Everyone got on the Pinterest train months ago, but I held out. What was I thinking? It is amazing. If you want to see what kinds of disallusions I have about my future, feel free to check out my boards. I deserve your judgment, it is getting out of hand.

What else, what else can I offer you? Oh I've been doing some online shopping and shipping the packages to my parents' house so my mom can sherpa the goods across the Atlantic to me. Genius! Hope she didn't plan on wasting suitcase space on her own clothes! Today J.Crew announced an extra 30% off on sale (hands down the greatest time to shop J.Crew) and I got this jacket, this tortoise bracelet, this scarf in saddle and a red leather gold-studded belt. Get them too! We'll be twins!

Okay fine, that's enough, I'll leave you alone. If anyone needs me, I'll be decorating my imaginary bathroom and planning parties with the most creative appetizers ever.

Managing Expectations Out The Window

I have a real problem setting myself up for emotional failure. Blame it on high personal expectations. Blame it on the fact that even though I know what I want, I'm still willing to overlook glaring, obvious issues (unemployed in California!) because maybe if the timing was better we could have had something. Or, more realistically, blame it on too many episodes of poetic soul-mate waxing on Dawson's Creek at a young, influential age. My father loved to lecture me and my brothers about how drinking/smoking when you're a teenager would stunt your growth, and I'm fairly certain that this principle precisely illustrates how Pacey left me with the emotional maturity of a freshman in high school. Just say no, kids. 

Anyway, the reason for my disappointment doesn't matter, it's the result of it: Whatever I thought we might have fizzles, caustically eroding away my faith I have in finding someone special. (I know, I am such a drama queen.) I won't totally blame New York because guys are letting women down across each of the 50 states, but I will blame the city for making it so freaking difficult. New York is notoriously competitive.

Jobs are hard to come by, acceptances into schools are a struggle, finding a serious, healthy relationship is next to impossible. Navigating the levels between "talking", "dating", "seeing someone" all the way to "being in a relationship" requires perseverance, a dictionary, a game plan, and pure luck. Aka you might as well spend your effort going to med school. "Oh I'm in my fourth year of residency at Beth Israel." "Oh, I'm in my fourth year of dating that guy I can't refer to as my boyfriend because it makes him nervous." It'll totally be worth it in the long run, honey.

This is not to say that I am above any of this. There is no mistaking the fact that I have not been in touch with reality for the past three years. I mean, I only feel comfortable actually liking someone if I also have someone else around to balance out my CGS. Because heaven forbid I come off too available. WHY CAN'T I BE AVAILABLE TO THE PERSON I AM DATING? See what I mean? I'm disgusted with myself. (But at the same time, kind of proud, because I've come a long way from being so bad at dating! I AM COMPETITIVE TOO!) I tried explaining the idea of all this to some friends in Berlin, and they looked at me like I was insane. "So, you don't just get a boyfriend?" YOU DO SPEAK ENGLISH, RIGHT?

Clearly this whole post has gotten completely out of hand, but it was just a long way of building up to my point: It gets better. I am not trying to be an jackass by repurposing the teen-gay motto, I am simply re-instilling the message that it doesn't have to be like this. There is happiness out there. Just the other day I was eye-rolling-up-a-storm watching a couple on the subway being really cutesy together. And then it dawned on me. I have sort of become that person. 

Last week I had three perfectly wonderful dates with The German. Two home-cooked meals (one at my place, one at his) and a night of live bluesy jazz at a swanky underground cocktail bar. (Blues is my favorite music genre so this earned major points, he didn't even know.) There was laughing. There was hand-holding. There was him helping me with my jacket. They were the kinds of nights that remind you how fun dating can be.

And the big takeaway is that I can say without shame that I like him and he likes me. I'm not sure where things will go but just knowing that and saying that makes it miles ahead of places I've been in the past. To think, we've only known each other a month. After dating someone a month in New York, I might change his name in my phone from whatever nickname I've been referring to him as to his real name. Maybe.

The German (don't worry, he is in my phone with his real name) is on holiday in Florida (USA! USA!) with his family for two weeks. We'll see how that bodes for everything. But at least, if nothing else, I have a little of my faith back in the practice of dating. And that's no easy task, unless of course Joshua Jackson has something to do with it.

Important Stuff to Keep in Mind

 

1. Our perception of beauty is relative.

2. I think French Bulldogs are hilariously adorable.

3. The German word for pug is 'Mops' (one of the only German things that The German has taught me)

4. I still really want a dog. (Maybe this will come true someday?)

Honeymoon in Prague

What sealed the deal on Ashley coming to visit was a gchat conversation about my desire to spend a weekend in Prague. She wanted to come too! How cool would that be? It would be awesome! OMG let's do it! And let me tell you, it was awesome.

The trip started off with us finding ourselves assigned to a train compartment with three stoic-looking Germans. We did our best to be mindful of ear pollution, which lasted approximately 10 minutes until I opened up my bottle of mineralwasser mit gas (aka sparkling water) and it exploded everywhere. This turned out to be the most hilarious thing ever for the middle-aged guy next to me. Nothing like getting soaking wet to break the ice. After that, much like my carbonated beverage, I too could no longer be contained, and Ashley and I chatted incessantly, which he also seemed to find very amusing. And to think I was worried about Germans liking my loud, obnoxious American personality! After polishing off an entire bag of nacho cheese Bugels (yes they sell Bugels here! and yes I justify eating crap while traveling no matter where in the world I am!), we admired the beautiful German countryside from the window. A short four and a half hours later, we were in Prague.

Pre-escalator near-death experience, hence the excitement

After a harrowing incident on the scariest escalator of my life (at one point Ashley was worried I might plummet to my death because I am extremely clumsy and carrying three bags did not help my center of gravity), a ride on the Prague subway that made us realize that New York's is really the dirtiest in the world, and getting spooked by a giant statue in a park, we finally made it to our hostel.

We were checked in by a middle-aged guy, who seemed mute at first, but quickly turned into the most helpful person ever. We never did catch his name so we decided to call him Sam. He totally looked like a Sam. Anyway, Sam gave us a map which he proceeded to scribble all over. See this, eat here, shop there, don't exchange your money anywhere. Based on all the things we wanted to do the next morning, we opted to stay in and go to bed early. See sometimes we act responsibly!

We were out the door by 9am and stopped by Sam's recommended Cafe Louvre for breakfast. Apparently it's been around since 1902 and Albert Einstein used to go there. Historic! Ashley and I both ordered the French breakfast which came with a mushroom omelet, croissant and a plate of cheeses, some thinly sliced and a few triangles of a different variety that looked like they'd just melt in your mouth. Having just seen Butterkäse (butter cheese) in the supermarket, the words "Wow this Buttercheese really tastes like butter!" had no sooner come out of my mouth when I realized, no wait...I have just taken a healthy-sized bite of actual butter. I can only guess the same thing would have happened to Einstein.

Here's a tip: Maybe don't serve your butter so cheese-like.

After our hearty breakfast, we walked through Old Town to the Charles Bridge. Loved it. All of it. Okay maybe not all the tourists, but really, it's so beautiful. We were lucky enough to have perfect weather (I don't know about you, but I deem perfect weather to be 70 with blue skies).

See what I mean about the blue skies?

These guys helped with the ambiance.

As you can see, my photography is getting pretty 'artsy'

After we'd crossed the bridge, we headed toward the "castle". Not to sound like a total jackass, but I'm pretty sure the castle itself is really just a cathedral, and that's fine and all, but I'll be honest, I was hoping for a little something more...regal. Unless I missed something. I mean, I did accidentally eat a wedge of butter so clearly I was not on my A-game during this little adventure.

Also, while we were in the actual cathedral, an Asian guy came up to us and asked if we would be in a picture with him, proving that Asians will in fact take pictures of anything! 'Two tall American girls with dirty hair? Picture!" I decided it was only fitting to throw the obligatory peace sign because why not. Sadly we did not capture this on our own camera. Sigh.

Let's get our facts straight: What are you?

Changing of the guards. Only there to trick you into thinking it's a castle.

All of these people are confused. "We thought this was a castle???"

Okay, I will stop complaining. Like I said, the view was beautiful. Here are some other pictures taken from atop the hill.

I was kind of interested in riding in that hot air balloon, but I was still recovering from my escalator incident.

Finally someone to take solo shots of me!

It looks a little like Florence, no?

Just the two of us. We can make it if we try.

I have approximately 100 candids of Ashley and it makes me feel only a little creepy.

We Are The Same Person Example #10001:

We both thought this picture idea was hilarious.

Some nice, older American tourists took this picture. "No girls, don't use your fake picture smiles. Smile for real!" Hence why we look so confused.

Oh, you want to see more pictures? It's your lucky day! That was just the first few hours! From there we headed back to Old Town to wander around. Meandering through a city happens to be my favorite tourist activity because the idea of committing to a tour is unfathomable. I mean, what happens if I need to stop for ice cream!? What about if I see the most perfect photo op, like the one below? What am I supposed to do then, just keep on walking like the most awkward couple ever isn't putting on the most horrific public display of affection?

In hindsight, I really should have caught this on video. There was a lot of movement going on that doesn't come through in print.

This is a square. It was really pretty but we were both more concerned with finding the WC so I can't really tell you anything about it, like, for instance, its name.

Prague is really beautiful because it has so many different types of architecture. That's all I know.

Obligatory outdoor market food shot. I am a blogger after all.

All that walking made us thirsty so on our way back to the hostel we stopped at Prague's "oldest" brewery and infamous tourist trap U Fleku. We were seated less than 30 seconds when a guy came around and passing out some sort of 'famous' Czech liquor that tasted like goldless Gold Schlager. In most instances when someone hands you something that you did not request, it is complimentary. This was obviously not the case [See above: Legendary scam]. When we got the bill, we saw an additional 120 CZK listed on it. Since converting Czech koruna to Euros to Dollars is virtually impossible (read: not worth my time) I have no idea how much the damage was. Probably a million dollhairs. Oh well, you live and you learn and you drink gross unnecessary shots at 4pm.

The accordion player in the background was the best part.

After that we went back to the hostel to shower and relax.

Our hostel: A diamond in the rough. It made me miss my NYC East Village apartment.

Re-energized, we went to a cute Italian restaurant we had seen around the corner.

 'Wow these pictures are going to look just like a honeymoon Facebook album'

After consuming some delicious homemade pasta (the idea of scouting out traditional Czech food was not appealing), we went home to change for da' club. We had read about Karlova Lazne, the "biggest night club in Europe," and figured we might as well check it out. "Five floors, each with a different theme and music variety, for the price of one club!!!!!" How could we resist?

There will be no pictures posted of this portion of the trip for the same reason I don't photograph myself right out of the shower: I do not look good with wet hair. It was sweaty to say the least. The fog machines didn't help, but the real culprit was our aggressive dancing. I don't want to say we were the most popular girls there, but we were probably the most popular girls there. Dancing on a ledge overlooking a crowd might have helped. What? I promise it was sort of classy. Anyway, the multi-floor set-up was actually pretty perfect for us. Get creeped out by guys in one area, move on to the next!

The night culminated when our new clan of Belgian boys intersected with our previous floor's Italian pals. Aww, seeing a bunch of 20 year old Euro undergrads try and win your attention is pretty adorable. "Those guys are such losers!" Aw, sweetie, you're all losers. Just kidding, they were adorable. Which is why I felt bad when we left the beers they bought us and snuck out to head to bed.

We left for Berlin the next morning, and we both agreed: All in all it was a great honeymoon adventure.

Ashley Comes to Berlin

There was a point in time where my friend Ashley and I literally spent almost all our waking time together between work (which included marathon stream of consciousness gchat sessions) and antigravity yoga classes at the gym. Since then, I got a new job and she moved to Philadelphia for grad school, depleting our quality (and not so quality) time together everyday. C'est la vie. Even though we don't see each other nearly as often as we would like, whenever we do we jump right back into it.

Hence I was beyond excited when I found out she would be able to visit. Like 'can't sleep before Christmas' excited. As much as I have loved being in Berlin and although I have met plenty of cool people here, it's not the same. I needed a buddy to pal around with, someone who really understands me.

Traveling thousands of miles to fetch her postcard: Efficiency.

The 'where is our food' solo shot.

One thing I have missed from my New York routine is my social eating. Here I tend to cook with friends, and the idea of going to a restaurant by myself is one of the least appealing activities ever. Why would I sit awkwardly in silence (or God forbid talk to strangers - I am not a particularly friendly Southerner) when I could be shoveling pasta on my couch while catching up on the Kardashian Konsortium's hijinx? In my sweatpants. So thank goodness Ashley, my eating soulmate, was coming to be my date and get me out of my apartment.

Since I love to plan, I had a list of places built into our itinerary. She arrived on Tuesday and that night we tried a local restaurant Noto I had read about in New York magazine's guide to Berlin. Cute place around the corner from me with farm-to-table type fare. We split risotto with asparagus, eggplant parmigiana and veal with mashed potatoes. Lecker! (That means tasty. I only learn the important words.) From there we had a beer while strolling around my neighborhood under the full moon, admiring the Berlin Dome as well as the local prostitutes (who are always texting, which in my opinion is not über professional). You see all the sights with me; I should probably be tour guide.

The following evening we met The German at Prater Biergarten for some traditional cuisine of fried meat and potatoes. Dainty! After that, we stopped by a bar I keep hearing about called Weinerei where you pay two euro for the glass itself and then whatever you want for the wine. We sat out on the patio, and the night ended with me deciding it was necessary to take home a loose piece of cobblestone that I intend to tell people came from the Berlin wall. (Crap, I ruined my lie already!) Ashley had a glowing report, but she likes everyone so that was no real test. If only The BFF were here to unleash her judgment-filled interrogation on him, then we would get some real feedback.

Thursday we geared up for a night of unbridled tourism and went to dinner in the rotating restaurant at the top of the Fernsehturm TV tower overlooking the city. We were joined by another new-to-Berlin American who randomly found the blog through a comment I left on Cup of Joe. Hooray Internet for bringing me a new friend! The dinner itself was very early-90s movie romantic with a soft jazz bass and keyboard duo playing in the background. At every turn (the restaurant rotated rather aggressively in my opinion), I kept picturing Tom Hanks professing his love to Meg Ryan while little Jonah watches with delight. (Note to self: Write a screen play for the sequel titled Restless in Berlin. Maybe grown-up Jonah travels the world for love this time around! Guaranteed hit.)

Where the magic happens.

Can't beat the view.

My hair is out of control.

The next evening we headed to Prague. Ashley, like a good little housewife, packed us sandwiches and we met at the train station after I got off work. Because I took approximately 10000 pictures, I will save that for another post. I need to ration my adventures, people, I hope you understand.

So as you can see, I did not lie about our food-focused week together. It was just as fantastic (and my pants are just as tight) as I had imagined. Thanks again for coming, Ash!

What a doll.

"Guide to MENhattan? What Were You Doing There?"

That was the first reaction from The German after I sent him the blog link. Pretty funny, huh?

The second night of Ashley's visit he joined us at Prater Biergarten for dinner. We had a great time telling stories, and of course since the majority of mine are recycled bits that I have also written about, Ashley mentioned more than once "Oh yeah I read about that." (That's what you get when you fly around the world to see me: More of the same!)

Although The German didn't take the bait and ask about it then, the next morning I figured it was time to get it out in the open. Considering he seemed to enjoy me in my element with one of my best friends (aka sillier than normal), this was the next test.

After his first message about the title, he sent a follow up message later thanking me for taking up his entire morning at work. His response to me writing about him? "Great blog. I never had anybody to write about me (at least not that I know of). Spent the time reading the blog chuckling to myself (tried to translate "schmunzeln" but there is no real translation)."

This reaction was better than expected and proved that there are some guys out there who are big enough to handle it all. More importantly it served as a reminder I deserve nothing less.

So dankeschön for being a good sport.

More on the rest of my Ashley adventures soon!

Jack Donaghy, Mayor of Berlin

Berlin is covered with political posters sporting the faces of candidates for the upcoming local election. Much like with local elections in The States, most of the names mean nothing to me. However, the face of one man in particular captivated me from the first instance I laid eyes on him. It wasn't just the fact that his ads were always much larger and more prominently positioned than the rest, it was just something familiar about him. 

On the first evening Ashley was in town, we were walking to a local restaurant and spotted a campaign billboard. Even though it was only an image of him, his entrancing gaze locked us in. I asked, "Do you think he looks like...?" Before I could even get it out of my mouth, she said, "ALEC BALDWIN? YES!"

Yep, every single day when I walk to the U-bahn (subway) I see a giant poster of Jack Donaghy's doppelgänger staring back at me. And I'm not going to lie, I love it. Anyway, I soon learned that this was the current mayor up for re-election. I know nothing about Klaus Wowereit's politics, but I am pretty sure I would vote for him.

What do you think?

So even if the rumors of Alec's New York political aspirations never come to fruition, it's sort of like they already have.

This Time of Year

Fall has always been my favorite season. There is something about the reprieve from the summer heat combined with the pre-winter hibernation energy that leaves me with a sense of urgency to make the most of it. Not to mention so many of my favorite things take place during these months: Football and Halloween, pumpkin-spiced anything and the changing colors on trees. So romantic. Sort of. Sigh.

Before I even left for Berlin, I knew it was going to be hard to be away during this time of year, facing the homesick-enducing status updates about Austin City Limits, the Hunt, and Longhorn football, specifically the OU game. I already feel left out, and it's only the second week in September!

But just when I was starting to feel sorry for myself (cabin fever can do that to you), I got an email from fellow American expat blogger Jenni about coming to visit her in Dresden. Based on some blog stalking, I have been dying to meet her, but my first instinct was to look at my calendar and think now when am I going to fit that in?

One of my best friends Ashley, who this time last year I was bringing home to Austin for a proper introduction to live music and barbecue, arrives tomorrow and this weekend we're headed to Prague. The following weekend I'll be in Amsterdam (I should add the disclaimer it is for a work conference). Two weeks later my mom and Dolo will be in town and then we're off for to Barcelona. I want to squeeze in Paris and maybe Warsaw, and don't even get me started about how I need to schedule in some castle viewing. I am in Germany after all!

So even if McCoy/Shipley 2.0 (or is this considered 3.0?) have an amazing season, Kanye kills it at ACL, and it is the most legendary Halloween ever, I think I'm still doing pretty well for myself.

Plus, I heard a rumor that the leaves change color here too, and I'm holding out hope that I can sniff out some artificial pumpkin flavoring for my coffee. Fingers crossed and happy fall.

You Can Take the Girl Outta Texas, But You Can't Take the Tex-Mex Outta the Girl

My mom likes to tell me how when she lived in New York, there were no Mexican restaurants. Well, since then, times have changed. For starters, there is electricity. And we no longer rely on horses to get around! (Ha, zing! Kidding, Gosh!)

But seriously, things are different in this day and age. You can get some fantastic guacamole, fajitas, and a margarita in the East Village with little to no effort. (Queso and breakfast tacos, however, seem to be lost on the North East. SOMEDAY, God willing.)

Anyway, now that I'm in Germany, I know how my mother once felt. While Berlin offers a fairly diverse array of cuisine, I have not stumbled upon any place that fulfills my South of the Border desires. This might be due to the fact that every place with a semblance of Mexican offerings also has Indian or Chinese-inspired dishes on the menu. They don't go together, people! Thus I have been forced to go without.

Until I discovered that my local supermarkt sells flour tortillas. And Mexicanisch seasoning. And jalapenos and avocados. So I've taken matters into my own hands. Literally.

This all came in handy when I offered to cook dinner for The German last night. What would we be having? Food from my homeland: Burritos!!

And ya know what? I was actually pretty proud of how the meal turned out. I'll be honest, not all meals with me are homeruns. Some aren't even base hits. This may or may not be directly linked to the fact I refuse to use any sort of recipe (my wise friend Ashley - who is coming to visit next week!!!! - once suggested this was because 'I don't like to be told what to do.' Like I said, she is wise!). But I have watched enough Food Network to have a decent sense of how long things need to cook and what flavors go well together.

So instead of a recipe - I am not Rachael Ray - mostly because I spell my name the normal, Biblical way - I am offering you a dinner suggestion. Take it with a grain of salt. (No really, you might want to add some salt. I tend to under-season.)

German Burritos (aka 'I Don't Have a lot to Work with So Go with It')

Ingredients:

• Four flour tortillas
• Three skinless chicken breasts
• Half a package of frozen spinach
• A container of mushrooms (I used baby bellas), chopped
• A shallot or two, diced
• Garlic, diced
• Jalepeno, chopped (I'll let you decide if you want to take the seeds out, you baby)
• Mexican seasoning 
• White cheese (I didn't translate the German so I really have no idea what kind)
• Plain yogurt 

Don't confuse these with actual instructions:
1. Season and cook the chicken in a pan with some oil. After it gets a little brown on both sides, add water. How much? I don't know, check a recipe, I do not have time for things like that. Once it is cooked all the way through, i.e. not pink, get out some forks and start shredding it. It's not rocket science. What you do with the extra liquid is none of my business. Then mix it with a few spoonfuls of yogurt to make it moist. Ew I know, that word is the worst. (FYI: This is a good step to do ahead of time. Like the night before, while you're also doing some half-assed yoga. Multi-task, people!)
2. Saute the mushrooms, jalapenos, shallots and garlic with oil. Add the spinach. Some water? I don't know? Does it look like it needs some? You don't want it sticking to the pan, but also not runny. (That word is also terrible!)
3. Mix it all together. If you cooked the 'filling' the night before, maybe zap it a little bit to warm it back up. Add in the cheese. Be generous. It's almost winter, no one can tell if you're fat.
4. Place the tortillas in a baking pan. Fill each with your delicious concoction. Delicately fold the tops down and then the sides, sort of like you're wrapping a present. A present for your stomach! No need for a gift receipt! Then flip them over. Be delicate, princess.
5. Mix together some yogurt (half cup? that sounds legit) with more cheese and some salt. Oh yeah, feel free to salt every thing else. I would go back and add it into the other steps, but I am too lazy. The mixture might look kinda ehhh, but I promise it'll be good. Now laddle this over each burrito. That's right, a big ol' spoonful.
6. Pop 'em in the oven. My oven is currently in Celsius so who the hell knows how warm it was. Hot enough to make me regret sticking my face directly in front of it when I opened it later. Leave them in for 10 minutes maybe. Long enough to give a recap of your day and pour something to drink. Let everything melt on top, start to bubble and get toasty. And then when you think they're done, maybe move your face out of the way when you open the door. Just sayin'.

Voila. You could have done a lot worse.

Also, if your ambition continues, a good side dish to serve with this is a 'Corn, avocado and tomato relish.' I'm not totally sure if relish is the right word, but it sounds pretty Barefoot Contessa and who doesn't like to channel Ina Garten when they cook?

Basically just get a bunch of fresh stuff veggies, e.g. the aforementioned avocado, tomato and corn plus some scallions and a little jalapeno. (Pro tip: boil the corn, then stand the cob on an upside down bowl within a larger bowl, use a sharp knife to cut it off the kernals!). Once everything is chopped, mix it together, and add some sea salt and lime juice. The flavors do the work for you, would be something annoying I would say if I had my own cooking show.

Anyway, all in all, it was a delicious meal that The German and I both very much enjoyed. You can decide if this was due to lack of knowing better and total Tex-Mex mirage fantasy, respectively, or if it's a legit crowd pleaser.

Guest Post: Brooks' Latest Envious Encounter

[Ed. note: My LA pal Brooks is back with another to-die-for celeb encounter. Let's just say this one is totally fetch, but not in a way that involves her precious pup Miles. Bad pun! On with the story!]

From Brooks: I knew that last night was going to be monumental when I miraculously fit into my skinny jeans. A white pair from Sophomore year, I almost cried when they buttoned. I'd like to attribute this feat to a healthy diet and exercise regime, but I'm pretty sure it's because my new apartment doesn't have a kitchen. For the last 2 months, while everyone has been dining on delicious lamb shanks or whatever you people have for dinner, I have been watching Bachelor Pad, trying to distract myself from how delicious my dog looks. It was a pathetic journey, but I fit into my skinny jeans and couldn't be happier. I felt like Miranda on that SATC episode where she just had a baby and she forgets to eat and can fit into her skinny jeans too and they go to that bar called Bed and they later get arrested for smoking weed but she talks to cop out of it and they end up eating pie at some diner. Or something.

Skinny jeans aside, Saturday night was monumental for two reasons. First, I was front row at a Kanye West concert, using tickets I did NOT have to pay for (thanks 72andSunny!). And second, because I had the most unreal celebrity encounter of all time. Yes, more unreal than when Miles pooped in front of Kate Middleton. [Ed note: I disagree. Nothing is more unreal than having a moment with Kate Middleton. NOTHING!]

I had so many more friends in jail.

As I said, I was front row at Kanye West for the Call of Duty XP event--aka Activision is a client of the ad agency where I work, they were coming out with a new COD game, we got to go, #swag. THE SHOW WAS UN REAL. Kanye played the best set list ever, his show was so entertaining, and I was screaming my face off to every song. And let's not forget, I was front row, so there was literally only a gate and a few body guards separating me from the stage. It was AMAZING.

About 45 minutes into the show, a few of us realized that none other than Lindsay Lohan had arrived and was standing in the wings merely 10 feet away from us. Score! Well, I guess Lindz wasn't getting enough attention out in the wings, because she decided to walk into the galley between the gate and the stage and sit down on a chair that was underneath my elbows. I was trying not to whack her in the face while simultaneously being seduced by her very bizarre hair weave. I was dying, and took about 500 pictures that I immediately Beluga-ed to everyone I knew.

I also took about 500 pictures of the show because it was, as I said, AMAZING. I was showing off one picture in particular to my friend Victoria when I heared a voice from below say in a very hoarse tone, "Hey. Don't take pictures of me."

Um, I'm sorry, did Lindsay Lohan just...talk to me?

Sure enough, Lezlo herself, in all her meth-faced glory, was looking me in the eye. Naturally, I decided to respond saying, "Lindsay! I didn't take a picture of you! Look!". I showed her my phone to prove that, in fact, the photo was not of her. The next thing that happened is so outrageous, I can't believe it is real.

"Oh my god I love your bracelet, where did you get it?"

LINDSAY LOHAN TOOK MY iPHONE OUT OF MY HAND and began to scroll through my photo gallery, trying to see if there were any photos of her on my camera. Meanwhile, I am PEEING MY SKINNY JEANS because I know that if she scrolls two photos to the left, she will see about 100 pictures of her face/shoulders/weird weave. Inside, I am screaming, "Scroll right, scroll right!!!" as sloppy Lilo goes through the photos. I've never been more thankful for a drinking problem IN MY LIFE. 

Finally it gets to the point where she realizes there are no photos of her and thus becomes bored. She mumbles "It's just...I look like fat from that angle," where we all decide to respond, "No girl! You look great!". And right as I think she might actually be stealing my cell phone, she hands it back saying, "I thought you were being a perv." Uh, thanks?

For the rest of the night, Crazy Train decides that we are buds, interacting with us far more than we're comfortable with. "All of the Lights" comes on and my friend Victoria screams because it's her favorite song. Lindsay yells to her over the music, "Is it about an ex boyfriend?" and all of us say "Yeah..." knowing pretty well that it's not about an ex boyfriend whatsoever. "Obviously," she says as her shoulder straps falls down, revealing her bra. At this point, we are all feeling generally alarmed.

She continued on with various ridiculous antics, my favorite of which was when she somehow got a hold of the event photographer's camera and started taking "artsy" stage shots. Because I was literally over her shoulder, I could see the display screen of the camera and the photos she was taking were TERRIBLE. All of them were blurry, off center, the lights turned off and she didn't use a flash...oh my god. Lock it up!!

Well clearly she needs to look for a new career path...but I don't think this is it.

Finally the concert ended and she was whisked away--extending no invite to any sort of after party. We all let out a huge sigh of relief, glad to be away from the scary blonde skeletor with sticky fingers. Five minutes later, we walked home barefoot and ordered a pizza. 

So yes, that is the story of the night Lindsay Lohan kind of stole my phone. It is also the story of the night I was front row at a Kanye concert. Additionally, it was the story of the night a crazy drunk blonde girl kept waving at Kanye West and he didn't wave back. 

But most importantly, that is the story of the night I fit into my skinny jeans!!!!!!

LEGENDARY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thanks, Brooks, we're so glad we have you to live vicariously through! Now book your trip to Vegas when Prince Harry is there!!!!

Germany's Hidden Treasure

Last week when The German suggested an excursion to the Ostsee (Baltic Sea), I was thrilled. Besides for my mini-field trip to Potsdam, I haven't left Berlin, and the weekend weather forecast showed blue skies and warm temperatures. Plus, you know, that whole I have a crush on him thing.

As anyone with a bit of sense knows, road trips and beach picnics require some well-thought out snackage so I threw together a lemon basil pasta salad with zucchini and cherry tomatoes in addition to salami, arugula, and mozzarella sandwiches. Oh and some potato chips because I am still an American, in case you were worried.

The ultimate driving machine.

After we packed up his convertible (not to sound like a hick, but I probably could count the number of times I've been in a convertible; I blame their impracticality in the Texas heat...or my lack of coolness), The German asked whether I wanted to go to the place he's been before, or if I was up for an adventure. I obviously chose the later because, duh, who am I to stifle one's desire for exploration?

On our way out of the city, he asked me to hold his iPhone compass to see if we were going the right direction. I took this opportunity to level with him: Do not rely on me for any navigational help. Remember, I brought the sustenance? That's all I'm good for. That and non-sensical stories about that one time I did something stupid.

It was with this understanding that we headed off toward Poland. "The town used to be really important the century before two centuries ago." So, like a few hundred years ago it was a great place? Sounds fantastic.

For over an hour we switched between the Autobahn and winding forest roads before crossing into Poland where we were immediately faced with guys wielding chainsaws on the side of the road. Um, what? We couldn't tell if they were chainsaw salesmen, day laborers trying to get business, or the least conspicuous murderous hitchhikers ever, and clearly we didn't stop to find out. We drove around Szczecin which was not nearly as beautiful as we'd hoped it to be (although there was a TK Maxx, yes with a K!). But we were still no closer to a beach. At that point we decided to cut our losses and head back into our country (well, my rented country, his native land).

Me and not the Ostsee

We followed the GPS' instructions toward water and finally we reached a cute little town with signs pointing to the "Strand" aka the beach in German. Hooray, we thought, we found it! We headed off toward the sand and unpacked our food. After downing the pasta salad and taking a relaxing siesta, it dawned on us that we could see land across the way. This was not the Ostsee after all. More like the Ostlake.

Not ones to give up so quickly, we got back into the car and continued through the tree-lined back roads, passing through corn fields and tiny towns. I obviously have no pictures of any of this, but trust me, it was very scenic. There were also cows, sheep, horses, chickens, and a sign that warned to watch out for otters. Um, what? I want one! (The German agreed that if I spotted one and caught it, I could keep it. We were to name him Fritz. Unfortunately this did not pan out. Perhaps next time.)

Eventually we made it to the town of Greifswald where we spotted a channel full of boats and people lounging along the bank. While it wasn't technically the sea, it did offer an opportunity for us to stretch our legs and do some people watching. After a beer (if nothing else, I will leave Germany totally in love with the beer because it really is as amazing as they say), we agreed to make one last effort to see the sea.

A really insightful thing I liked to say on this trip was "That looks old" aka the turret in the background

Only a few kilometers away, we finally found it.

Yes, those little white dots ARE sailboats

The barbed-wire laced access point led me to ask The German if the Ostsee was considered to be Germany's "hidden treasure." Luckily he found this funny because if you don't appreciate my sense of humor then I really don't offer much as a road trip companion.

Needing to get home in time for a birthday party that evening, we turned around back to Berlin, but after all our driving, the tank quickly started dropping toward empty. Unfortunately the route through Eastern Germany isn't quite like HW 71 to Houston, thus not filled with a gas station (or Sonic, omg what I would do for you) every few miles. I wouldn't say I was panicking, but I was definitely nervous and this was not helped with the fact I had to pee. In an effort to distract ourselves from this development, I filled the time by telling appropriately-themed stories, like how I once went on a blind date with someone in the Baltic Mafia and that time my family's Suburban broke down at the World's Largest Firework Store Slash Truck Stop on our way from from a road trip. (On second thought, that might not have been the best choice to share.) Luckily, though, we made it to a gas station just in time.

All in all it was a lovely day. And although I don't have a new pet otter to show for it, I do have a new adventure to add to my repertoire, which is probably for the best because I have no idea what I would do with an otter to be perfectly honest. Can they live in a bath tub? Okay, never mind, not important. Hope you all had a good weekend too.