Present #fiveminutefriday

Write. For five minutes straight. One-word prompt, five minutes, no editing. I'm linking up over at Lisa-Jo Baker (aka The Gypsy Mama) where we read, write and encourage.

I inwardly winced when he told me how much time he had left on the countdown. Only a matter of hours to go before the deadline closed and his film school dreams would dwindle in despair, bitter and cold. I could only imagine what this would do to him.

Throwback Thursday, ya'll

We spent the last few months prepping: he was researching financial aid, I studied for finals; he ran between three schools for paperwork, I submitted 15 pages on Midwifery in the Middle Ages. So when he surprised me with a final project (due tomorrow) I wasn't sure how much energy I had left in me. We were running on low and we needed a miracle.

The prompt was vague (of course) and his idea was sweet, but when he presented the video to me all I could do was cry. This isn't that surprising since I cry with all of my emotions, but I was over- and under-whelmed all at the same time, full of love and pride for this man I would one day call my husband, but also terribly disappointed that his procrastination may have cost him the college he really wanted.

Two minutes, 19 objects to tell 19 years of his life with Elton John's "Daniel" playing softly in the background, the song he was named for.

I gave up sugar and he gave up milk in a two month fast and prayer session. I prayed more than I have ever prayed in my life, harder, stronger, more sincere to get that man into his dream college. He needed some good news after the last year and a half and our hearts were tired, but we knew that faith, love and a little bit of movie magic would see us through.

And it did.

Mr. E got in on the action too! Sort of prompt-less, but five minutes all the same!

My Five Year Letter

Dear self,

We just came home from a night in Burbank and by we I'm not talking royalty. My husband pulled the best impression of your young self that I've ever seen, head lolling to one side, deep breaths in and out as the street lights lit his mohawk between on-ramps and off-ramps so narrow they may actually have been blue prints for the Death Star. Tonight was magical and mystical and still a road block.

My tongue is sore from cheap Mai Tais. My elbows hurt from rubbing with professional amateurs. His teachers told him to meet and greet with the lower levels, the little ones who are looking for the right talent to bring them to the top.  Well, we did that, and were staunchly told in no uncertain terms that no one ever truly makes it. Glass ceilings and nepotism and type-casting run rampant in that old town, so who are we to change the game?

She talked to us from under the weight of years of hard work, drudging and slogging to get where she wanted, with opinions louder than the quiet voice in our hearts. She drowned out the optimism and talked right over the determination we both had. He and I sat quietly awash in her words and her wisdom of experience. Once we got back in the car we looked at each other and shared a moment and I knew she hadn't permanently silenced us.

We needed to hear what she had to say, just like we need to hear what everyone has to say: give us your wounded and your heartbroken, your sordid tales, your mistakes and your success stories. We want to hear them because we want to know, deep down, that every tale is different. Each story gives us hope that we, too, can be successful because we're not unique but we still have miles and leagues and fathoms separating us from them.

Listening to stories of the people that made it is inspiring and down-heartening all at once: the story goes that Harrison Ford was a handyman who happened to read lines one day. That Spielberg never got into USC despite his repeated applications. But they're household names now, so what gives? How can we tell that story too, but different?

Brie, the reality is, we may never make it, but in the end we'll make something for ourselves all the same. Big money and a million dollar home and agent-led movie offers was never the goal. Our conversations of the future always ended in doing what we wanted to do and being happy for that opportunity- and in that respect we're already halfway there. We may never make millions, have faces and babies splashed on tabloids or name our own sidewalk stars, but we'll enjoy what we're doing because we worked too hard to settle.

We'll make it because we're starting with the support system and the rest can fall into place afterwards. We'll make it because I knew from the moment he told me he wanted to be a movie director, the moment he confessed (by accident) he loved me, the moment we said "I do" and presented ourselves as Mr and Mrs E, that I would support him. His goals, his dreams, his wacky baggage were all packed and stowed with my own and ready for the ride we now steer together.

We'll wade through the muck with the rest of them, start from the bottom and work our way to the top, taking our turn at all the major milestones, but we have each other and that's years ahead of everyone else here. That's what sets us apart. He doesn't do this alone; I can't let him.

So here it is, your five-, ten-, fifteen-year plan: Just remember. Remember how bad you want this. Remember how hard you worked for this. Remember all of the side-gigs and pity projects and the hours and hours we've logged to get that one step farther. Remember the innocence and the naivete because you'll lose it in the City of Lights, piece by piece, and what's left over can leave you bitter and wary. We don't mind wary but we can do without being bitter. We have opportunities and blessings farther than the eye can see and there will come a time (or two) when we'll have to rely on just the memory of good things to keep us going.

Love,
The young and restless you

A Separation

Imdb synopsis: A married couple are faced with a difficult decision - to improve the life of their child by moving to another country or to stay in Iran and look after a deteriorating parent who has Alzheimer's disease.

We are on a foreign movie ROLL, people.

One of the hallmarks of a good movie is whether or not you have strong feelings about it. Hear me out! If a film has gotten under your skin, made you cry, annoyed you (because of content, not production choices)or otherwise impacted you...it might be a good movie. There are plenty of movies that I've seen that I am NOT crazy about. I didn't like them, I would never watch them again but I would still recommend them to a friend because they are experiences that must needs be had. Punch Drunk Love is a good example. A Separation is another.

I really liked this movie because I thought it told a good story. The characters were compelling- even though the culture is different from my own, the story was not so farfetched that I couldn't relate. You are constantly guessing whodunnit, which story is correct. The dialogue (and subsequently the subtitles) is so fast paced I found myself wondering how the movie was directed- was it ad-libbed? Improvised? Methodically played out? 

That being said...this movie drove me crazy. The characters were so convincing that I had a hard time liking ANY of them. Much like Game of Thrones shows you reasons to like even the most hated characters, this movie kept throwing reasons at you to DIS-like characters. What you at first thought was black and white is, in reality, so murky that fish could swim through and you wouldn't see them.

It's really no wonder this movie won so many awards- there's a depth of human emotion here that many movies can't even begin to attain.

Our Last Disney Trip

Disneyland was the epitome of childhood for me. Other kids got to go to Disneyland, but we didn't have the money. Plus, travel with four children in an F-150 is not fun no matter how you swing it. The first time we went was magical- no shame riding the little kid rides with younger siblings, I learned that I hate roller coasters and drops, and the sheer intake of sugar could power a small planet.


My best friend in high school would regularly skip school (any school administrators here?) to make use of her year passes. Every once in a while I would go too.

It seems that everyone has their fool proof way of making the most out of a Disneyland trip. You would think, since Mr. E and I lived only 4 miles from the park that we would have made more of an effort to go. But we're cheap and fairly broke and we can't even afford a smartphone much less a year pass. But we know how to hit all the high points just the same. 

Now, most of the time we're tried and true Peter-Pan-first-ers. As soon as that park opens you better be in a line in Fantasyland because otherwise that wait will kill you at nine o'clock. Good grief. Teacups, Mr. Toad's, Smallworld, these rides are high priority. This time around, however? Mr. E and I booked it to Indiana Jones- and we weren't disappointed. First ride of the day and we waited less than ten minutes. Seriously. The line looked a little something like this...

It was about here we got a little fastpass happy- the park wasn't all that crowded so fastpass return times were pretty decent. Ideally, the more people buying fastpasses, the farther our your return time. If you have a fastpass swiped already you need to wait until it's return hour has started until you can swipe again. Which can really help or really hinder your experience. All other Disneyland trips that I have gone the cast members have been super accommodating if you're over your fastpass time- I've used fastpasses we got from the morning to use during fireworks. This time, not so. Apparently they are sticking to that time like glitter on a princess. Which was kind of disappointing.

Mr. E and I made sure to tackle all of our favorite rides (minus the Matterhorn because Mr. E thinks he will die): Space Mtn, Indy (thrice), Buzz Astro Blasters, the Haunted Mansion, and the new Cars ride. We also hit up quite a few shows- the new Beauty and the Beast show at Fantasy Faire, Mickey's Magical Map at the Fantasyland Stage, even learning to draw Jack Skellington at the Animation Academy. 

Since this was going to be our last trip for a while, we made sure to hit all the rides we've meant to go on but just never made it to: Nemo's Submarines and World of Color. The last would have been a lot cooler if you didn't have to peek through a forest of baby limbs on parents' shoulders just to see the lights. 

Possibly the best way we ever did Disneyland was with Mr. E's brother and family- they had a huge two-seater stroller that held food for 30 people (oh, only 7? Seemed like 30) and was convenient for the little kids to ride on. Since there were four adults we could switch off for every ride- one or two stay behind with kids who aren't tall enough, the others grab "family passes" from the cast members and fastpasses to ride again later. We spent MAYBE $50 on food for all of us because we packed lunches with chips and brownies, had plenty of candy snacks (dollar store, holla!) and most ice creams or goodies we shared between all of us.

I think a big perk for us is that we routinely go to Downtown Disney for free date night, too, so we weren't feeling the urge to go through any of the shops since we've seen it all before. We're really going to miss listening to those fireworks every night at 9:30pm on the dot! (not.)

LOVED This Week

We burned the dog on Thursday. On accident, of course. Just a little sparkler dust that caught a hair or two- she was so oblivious she didn't even yelp.

I'm constantly surprised by this dog. Most people talk about dogs and fireworks, warning that they're an unhealthy mix. But Ripley, sweet thing, has grown up with fireworks popping in the distance every night at 9:30pm sharp- thanks Disneyland. So when fireworks exploded overhead at Newport Beach, she didn't bat an eye. She may have shivered and shook from all the new people, the other dogs, the whining and the crying, the smells and sounds of a new place at night, but bright explosions over head? No problem.

We let our sentences dangle for her, waiting until she catches on to the unasked question: "Do you want to..." She uses our shins as a springboard, jumping between us, mouth wide in that doggy smile. She loves the car and often lounges over the window one arm down the side and her head resting between the frame and the mirror. We took it one step further on Thursday and bundled her up for a basket-less bike ride. Pedestrians couldn't get enough of her, face sprouting from our neck as she leveraged herself to see where we were going out of her backpack cocoon, without a care in the world.

I took her out before bed last night and marveled at her supreme calm as Angels Stadium lit up, a cacophony of bangs and booms, and she, undisturbed, chased June beetles.

I wish she could share some of that unruffability with me. Just a scoche.

Tomatillo Salsa

Is anyone else on a personal life quest to find the best salsa out there? No? Just me? Well that's okay. We'll fall on those swords salsa bowls like the martyrs chips we like to eat.

We've gone through quite a few different salsas in our time, young and inexperienced though we are. Fire-roasted, chunky, filled with veggies, more like ketchup, so hot you can't touch your nose, all shades of green, lime-flavored, now with mangoes, fresh from the garden and restaurant staples. Now, we can add making our own to the list.

Mr. E and I have this back-breaking addiction to lime. Can't get enough, squeeze it on everything to make it taste better (edamame, anyone?), drown it in juice and serve it up. I was singing to the salsa gods when the restaurant I briefly worked at had an amazing enchilada dish with tomatillo sauce- it was to die for. And then I got fired and now we hate them. I found a similar sauce at a different local restaurant and vowed that if THEY could re-create it, I could too.

I'm not sure I was entirely successful, but this salsa was pretty good all the same. I did a quick Google-search for green salsa and came across a Cafe Rio knock-off from Our Best Bites- great how-to there, too!

Green Salsa
2-3 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 large onion, minced
4-5 cloves garlic, minced or pressed
1 green pepper, chopped
1 jalapeno, seeded and membranes removed if desired (and I desire. Always.)
8 tomatillos, husked and quartered or halved
1/2 bunch cilantro, coarsely chopped
1 tsp. Kosher salt
1/4 tsp. black pepper
1 1/2 tsp. cumin
4 c. chicken broth

2-3 Tbsp. sugar (optional and to taste)

Saute onions and garlic in a large pot until fragrant*. Combine tomatillos, cilantro and both peppers in the blender. If things aren't blending very well add chicken stock. 

Pour the tomatillo mix over the onions and add the rest of the ingredients. At this point I transferred to the crock pot to cook for four hours on low- I figured we liked slow-roasted stuff and there wasn't anything particularly raw in the mix, so I wasn't worried about thorough cooking. The mixture turns from a bright shamrock green to a deep Halloween-witch warty type of green and that's good.Serve with chips or on homemade enchiladas but make sure you make extra for your hungry father-in-law because he'll eat you out of house and home. At least he liked it. 

I really liked how much the chicken broth added to the salsa- not an ingredient I ever would have thought of. I think, in the end, there was too much chicken stock or not enough veggies on my end, so it was a little saucy and less chunky. Plus we could have always added more lime. The recipe says the tomatillo is enough, but I say never.

*In making this salsa I cried. Profusely. Mr. E is not an onion eater (of any kind, ever) so I've spent the last two years subbing out onions for radishes- similar texture, sometimes the same bite and not so bad! But I figured heck, it's salsa, you've gotta have the real thing. So in cutting an onion for the first time in 2+ years, that odor hit me like a ton of bricks. Mr. E walked into the room, glared at me and walked out again to leave me in a eye-leaking mess next to that damn onion. Once I started cooking them (and the garlic) it wasn't so bad, but it'll be a while before I try that again.

Link up! Wow-Us-Wednesday, Penny Pinching Party, Tutorial Tuesday, Not Just A Housewife,

LOVED This Weekend

This weekend was all about re-charging. We spent the majority of Friday stuck in traffic navigating our way down to a dance recital for our neices. I never expect traffic in San Diego County, especially now that we've been to LA and back a few times, so when we get hit with a 20mph crawl along the 5 I am beyond annoyed. But the girls were adorable and danced beautifully (no stage fright this year!). We love supporting them and their interests.

Upon coming home Mr. E and I worked to put the house in order. I personally feel that whenever the world has become too much or too stressful, the first order of business is always to clean house. If I can right the wrongs of my toothpaste-stained mirror and clean the cobwebs from the corners of the house, by doing so I create firmer ground to stand on and face the rest of my life. 

I feel much better facing dinner inquiries if my sink is empty and my counters are wiped- otherwise I'm constantly reminded of all the things I'm behind in, pile after pile shouting my name. Laundry from last weekend! Mop the footprints from the floor! Vacuum the carpet full of dog hair! 

Once done I feel justified in taking a nap- or two- and watching movies or playing video games with Mr. E because we don't want to think about anything else. Finishing a level or two on Mario Galaxy sure doesn't hurt, either.

We broke our self-imposed hibernation to meet up with Mr. E's friend growing up at a Korean BBQ place in Tustin. All you can eat and highly recommended for two grown men.

Please let there be fantastic sunsets in Burbank through all of the smog of LA!