Congratulations are in order....

I visited the Social Security Administration yesterday because I can't find my God damn social security card and since I'm a working woman, I need a replacement. So, my number was called, and I proceeded to the window and explained that I needed a new card. I filled out all necessary paperwork and was informed that the peeps at Social Security still have me as Tara Shannon. Soooo, I guess I forgot to change my name. I forgot for 11.5 years. The lady asked if I'd like to change my name and after a few seconds of hemming and hawing, I decided to go for it. So, I'm officially a Kali. 11.5 years later. I hope this doesn't jinx us, Tommy. Oh good Christ. 

What's to drink....

LOOK AT THIS PRETTY BOTTLE, you guys. I had my friend, Kate, over for dinner this past weekend. Her hubs was away, so we did as we often do, and combined forces. I'll make this, you bring that, the kids will leave us the fuck alone play together, and we can drink this lovely wine. It's an all around power move and everybody wins. Kate brought this one and we both loved it. Did we share any with Tom? I can't remember, but we did feed him, we're not total savages. This bottle is equally as pretty as it is special (much like my friend Kate). It's a little pricey ($35) but sometimes a good bottle of wine and the joining of forces makes for a perfect Saturday night. Watch out for Sunday morning, though. That'll bite you right in the ass. Cheers!

Octopoda Cabernet Sauvignon 2014 - Napa Valley

What's to eat....

I am a big fan of periodically using hyperboles to get a point across, but I find it especially funny when I see someone actually advertise their thing as "the best (blank) on the planet". There is a diner close to here that has a sign toting "THE WORLD'S BEST PANCAKES". Shit, that's a bold statement. Those pancakes MUST be legit. Actually, I've been there. I've tasted them. They were pretty good. Best in the world may be a stretch. So this week's recipe was made soley on the premise that it's name caught my attention (and I kinda assumed it to be bullshit). Here it is, folks, "The Best Garlic Shrimp in the Whole Wide World". Much like the best pancakes in the world, these were pretty damn good. Best ever? Let's not get fucking crazy here. 

The Best Garlic Shrimp in the Whole Wide World (or as I like to call it, pretty good garlic shrimp)

http://www.food.com/recipe/the-best-garlic-shrimp-in-the-whole-wide-world-47515

Working on my not giving a flying fuck....

You guys, this is an ACTUAL book, with ACTUAL amazing advice, and the guy ACTUALLY says fuck WAY more than I do. The premise of this book is based on the idea that our society, as a whole, is told to believe more is more. That we NEED more of everything to be happy...And in comes Mark Manson to tell us that we have it all wrong. My man Mark, who appreciates the word "fuck" more than anyone I know, says "the key to a good life is not giving a fuck about more; it's giving a fuck about less, giving a fuck about only what is true and immediate and important". I LOVE THIS. Mainly because I, like a lot of you animals, can get wrapped up in a whole bunch of bullshit that doesn't fucking matter. I can absolutely get myself into an anxiety-fueled-tizzy about some stupid ass shit. I'll be the first to admit it. Mark says I should stop doing that. I agree, Mark.  It also points out that our pain, suffering, and all around negative experiences are GOOD because they will force us to adapt, to change, to protect ourselves from doing whatever stupid shit we were doing to cause ourselves pain the first place.  This guy is a fucking genius. This book is fucking awesome. My Mom is going to hate all this use of the word fuck. 

Wishing you ALL of the Good Stuff.

XO

Tara 

P.S. If you are a person, such as myself, that does not metabolize garlic well, I would go easy on "the best garlic shrimp in the whole wide world". I have run into unfortunate situations where my inability to metabolize garlic has 1. Shown up at the gym the next day, like as in garlic sweat. 2. Got me and a friend actually kicked out of my Mom's house after a night of drinking and eating a white cheese and garlic pizza. My Mom said the smell was making her sick. She said we needed to leave. I'm not making this up. 

Big news over here this week....

And I'm not just referring to the shocking news of the demise of Brad and Angelina. But, while we're on that, it does concern and surprise me that a couple with MILLIONS of dollars, and access to pretty much ANYTHING they want on this PLANET, can't make a marriage work. I mean, I know they're human, they got problems, but they can basically call and consult with the God damn Dalai Lama about their issues. Literally. You know Ang got that dude's number in her celly. They have all these kids, houses all over the world, they have a FUCKING WINERY IN FRANCE, people. But they still can't hack it. It goes to show, shit ain't easy. And all the rosé in the world can't reconcile irreconcilable differences. BUT....we can all go out trying.


What's to drink....

La Storia Cabernet Sauvignon goes best with "end of a long day, post hot shower, in pajamas" mode and makes folding the laundry more tolerable. I had a glass while folding the stupid laundry and watching that new show, "This is Us" on NBC. I teetered between "this is corny as hell" and full blown tears. I'll probably stick with it and move between dramatic eye rolling and sobbing. Basically, like every day of my life. Go get this wine and watch some corny TV and fold some laundry. It will make everything better. Cheers!

                                     La Storia Cabernet Sauvignon

What's to eat....

This is a new recipe this week. We are big fans of meat on the bone (I am refraining from the most obvious of jokes) over here because we're kinda savage-esque. I wanted to try something new with pork chops, and this was a hit. If you don't eat the swine, you could do this with some chicken, or you could skip it all together. I will die swearing that people who don't eat pork are denying themselves the pure joy of life that is bacon. But then some humane person starts to explain the whole slaughter house thing and I rescind my argument (but it's really only so that they don't tell me the whole story). So, I get to have my bacon and eat it too. This recipe is by my girl Giada, who never ceases to amaze me with her huge beautiful head, tiny waist, and huge cans. What's Giada eating that it's only going to her head and tits? Please God, let it be this pork dish. 

Pork Chops alla Pizzaiola

http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/giada-de-laurentiis/pork-chops-alla-pizzaiola-recipe.html


Working on my holy crap I went back to work this week....

I mean, it's only a little per diem Nursing gig. But it pays better than this blog. And while I don't think I will be saving any lives, I will be preventing the spread of the flu virus by shoving jamming injecting needles into people's arms. And while this may not sound glamorous or important, I'll have you know, I had the flu once. I wanted to die. For real. I am going to tell every single person I vaccinate that I am so grateful to be the person responsible for them not feeling like they want to die. I'm basically Florence Nightingale without the funny hat. Come to think of it though, they say she got the syphilis from getting down with all of the soldiers she cared for. I am not planning on doing that. I think that's a reasonable goal to set when going back to work after a 6 year hiatus. Don't fornicate with the patients. Don't die from a venereal disease. I didn't want to set the bar TOO high. This should do just fine. 

Wishing you ALL of the Good Stuff. 

XO 
Tara 

P.S. I don't think Florence N. really banged all those soldiers and then died of syphilis. She probably showed up some male doctor and then he started a rumor about her. True story. 

20....

I'm fond of this number. It's my birth "day" (in December, for those who want to send gifts) and today is my 20th blog post. And while this may seem like no big feat, I am giggling with delight and pretty fucking proud of myself. That being said, I'd like to point out that today, the 20th time I've done this, I have finally figured out how to put the little follow button on my page. I SWEAR it was never an option before, I think the people at google wanted me to sweat it out. But anyway, that button SHOULD be over there -------> in case you want to follow this shit. In addition, I realize I've made countless mistakes, 8767 grammatical errors, and some of it hasn't been all that great, but I did it, which makes me keep wanting to do it, despite the fact that I realized that somewhere around week 9 I thought that there was tequila in a mojito and not rum. Who would have thought that I wouldn't have known something about cocktails...But I wrote an entire thing on how I hate tequila and that's why I HAD to change the mojito recipe from tequila to vodka. I'm so glad that the 6 of you who read this are nice enough not to point out my errors. I can't handle all that shit. BUT, I never said it would be perfect. I didn't even promise it would be good. I just said I'm a girl that has a lot of the good stuff to share. Thanks for bearing with me (I totally made sure that was the right use of "bear", and shit still doesn't look right, but let's keep with the don't ask, don't tell policy).


What's to drink....

So, this is an adaptation of vanilla stoli with club. I do not have enough room in my liquor cabinet to host all this wine AND all sorts of flavored vodka. I have to be picky about what I let in there, and my man Tito rules the roost. Tito's vodka is to liquor what chicken stock is to cooking. It's a solid base and once you start adding a bunch of shit to it, things get really good. An added bonus to drinking the vodka, is it has way less sodium than the chicken stock AND it will get you drunk. Additionally, I really hate clutter and all those partially empty bottles of flavored vodka would really flip me out (admittedly, I do not seem to run into this problem with bottles of wine). Cheers!

Tito's Vodka, Vanilla Seltzer, and a twist of lemon

What's to eat....

This is one of those lazy ass recipes that is perfect for dinner when life has kicked you in the ass, AND you're feeling like a fatty boom batty, BUT despite your dog shit day, you're always seemingly hungry. Not that I'd know anything about that. This is leftover spice rubbed chicken thighs (week 17), REAL sharp cheddar cheese, scallions, and Jersey (in the house) fresh tomatoes, on a Mission Carb Balance flour tortilla. Now, this tortilla boasts it only has 6 grams of net carbs because it has something like 13 grams of fiber in it. I'm not sure HOW these people cram all that fiber into something, I'm not sure WHAT the fiber is made of, it very well could be cardboard, but I don't care. If you do, don't eat it. If you don't, it's actually pretty damn good and if you put enough shit on it, you can BARELY taste the underlying amazon box. 

Carb Balance Mission Tortilla Quesadilla that doesn't really taste like cardboard

1 Tortilla

6 oz Leftover spice rubbed chicken (you'd know the recipe if you followed my blog)

1 oz REAL sharp cheddar cheese (to offset 13 grams of cardboard fiber)

Scallions, Jersey tomatoes, light sour cream, cilantro if you're not one of those people who hates cilantro. 

Working on my fitness....

Kinda. Well, I mean, I really am. I am back at crossfit, not as much as I would like to be, but enough that my love for the "sport of fitness" is in full effect, even if I am NOT so great at the "sport of fitness". That doesn't matter. It's all about what you LOVE to do. I am lucky enough to be surrounded by a group of people that seemingly don't give a fuck about what I do in that gym, including fully pissing my pants whilst jumping rope. I have a CFBFF4L (Crossfit best friend forever for life) who is always willing to partner up with me, nearly die along side me, and keep me motivated to keep going when I really, really don't want to. That's an important thing in the gym, hell, an important thing in life, having somebody next to you that can say, I know it hurts, I am really uncomfortable too, and yes, I see you have majorly peed your pants, and you appear to be going into some kind of cardiac arrest, but don't worry, I got you, and if all else fails, there is a defibrillator in the corner.  We got this.

Wishing you ALL of the Good Stuff. 

XO

Tara 

P.S. Mo - for real. I cherish the hell out of our partnership. Besides my husband, there is no one else I would rather be privy to all of my bodily fluids.

Feeling so many feelings....

this week with the start of school. My boy started 4th grade this week. This is such a weird and bizarro phenomenon for me because I have so many memories from that time in my life. We moved when I was in 4th grade and I did so kicking and screaming the whole way. I was 9 years old, I already had a bunch of friends, and I was absolutely convinced that my Father was moving us to the "armpit of America". I was NOT impressed with the idea of New Jersey. I'm embarrassed to say that now because I am a proud Jersey girl, even if I didn't start out here. Anyway, I had to eventually concede to the moving thing and figured I may as well do it my way. One of my first memories in my new school was the teacher asking me "what do you think is better about New Jersey than Long Island". I stood up, proudly, toting a mullet, an very strong Long Island accent, more than a few extra pounds, and said "the boys here are a lot cuter". Well, that's one way to get noticed. They boys all screamed, one in particular got up and HID under his desk, the girls were appalled, the teacher had no idea she was going to cause a small riot all by asking a simple question. My love of shock value started a long time ago I guess. It's a jungle out there, so here's to hoping we are raising kids that have a good mix of confidence, survival skills, a little love for shock value (just not too much). 

What's to drink....

Oh, now we're in trouble. I usually have a knack for finding wines that I have to actually contemplate buying and spending the money for them. This one, not so much. I've found a no-brainer. This French beaut comes highly rated and is, wait for it, $10.99. This never fucking happens to me. So basically, at that price, the bottle is asking you to drink it. At this rate, I'll be able to save money and actually get myself to the Loire Valley in France. Can you picture me sitting in a field of lavender, drinking wine straight from the bottle, with a loaf of bread and a giant wheel of brie. My own little version of heaven. Cheers!

La Forcine Sauvignon Blanc

What's to eat....

The only Greek I knew before last week was two not-so-nice words. One is "shut-up" and the other is so bad I'm not even really sure of it's actual meaning, BUT, now I know something other than Greek profanities. I'm so worldly. This was easy and delicious. Give it a try and απολαμβάνω (this could be Greek for "enjoy" or it could Greek for "eat shit", one can never be sure).

Tzatiki Sauce

http://www.food.com/recipe/tzatziki-sauce-greek-cucumber-yogurt-sauce-304166

Working on my "Love Warrior"....

I am OBSESSED with this book. If you aren't already following Glennon Doyle Melton and Momastery, please do yourself a favor and start. She just released this, her second book, a couple of days ago and I. AM. ALL. IN. This lady is right up my alley, she is a sharer of all the things, and I (also a sharer) am blown away by the candidness of this book. Regardless of the details, it really is all about human connection, right? Putting it out there, and knowing there are others that feel the same. That we're not alone when we say for instance, I'm neurotic, rigid, anxious, I talk too much, my marriage is HARD work, my kids drive me insane but I love them so much it hurts, I STILL struggle with body image shit, I'm a control-freak, and I let myself feel too much, a lot of the time, I mean, just as a general example. Isn't there something empowering about admitting the imperfections so as to not be seen as weak but as flawed person who is ALSO full of love, laughter, and hopefully the grace to get up after falling down, over, and over, and over again. Yes, this is what I want to be. For my me and my kids. So they know that no one is without fear or flaw but that the key is to be kind to yourself and others, knowing we are all in the same boat, even if the details are different. And it helps if you can learn to laugh at yourself. Yes. That helps, a lot. 

Can anyone tell I'm absolutely bat shit hormonal? I need to go weep.

Wishing you ALL of the Good Stuff. 

XO

Tara

P.S. I don't know what in the fuck went on with the wonky paragraph formatting above but in the spirit of admitting I'm not perfect, I'm not fixing it. 

God help us all....

that have to get back onto regular schedules. This summer has been a good one and it's all about to come to a crashing halt. My kids, who have been staying up until 10 pm and sleeping in until 9 am, should really enjoy getting back to 7:30 am wake up calls and early bed time. This is parenting at it's finest. Waiting until the last possible minute to get your kids on some acceptable schedule so they are not zombies (or total assholes) in school. Mother-of-the-year over here. Summer, you were fun while it lasted. 


What's to drink....

Oh, I really like to pronounce this one, you guys. I mean, it tastes really good, too but french wines SOUND like you're drinking something delicious. After a couple glasses I start to totally butcher the name and that's loads of fun as well. Try it with your best fancy French accent. Cheers (or à votre santé, which is French for "cheers" but I can't pronounce that for shit)!

 Pascal Jolivet Sancerre 2014

What's to eat....

Remember way back when, I put in a disclaimer about not being a professional chef or a professional photographer? Let's keep that in mind when referring to the recipe below. It may not LOOK at that good, but this baby was kick ass. It's basically spinach and artichoke dip (lightened up) over chicken breast. I made a few tweaks to the recipe including the following.

1. Cutting the chicken breasts in half so they were not too thick. I do NOT like big, thick, plump chicken breasts. I prefer them thinner and less full, much like my own breasts, so as to feel at home, I suppose. 

2. I used 1/2 regular mayo and 1/2 light mayo. And for the record, mayo is straight up disgusting shit but it is a necessity for certain recipes.

3. I used part-skim mozzarella cheese because I can use all the help I can get after an entire summer of eating and drinking.

4. I doubled the amount of artichoke because in the case of artichoke, more is always better. 

5. I cooked it for longer than the suggested amount because if there is anything that is more disgusting than straight up mayo, it's raw chicken. 

Spinach Artichoke Chicken that doesn't look good but tastes really fucking good

http://addapinch.com/spinach-artichoke-chicken-recipe/

Working on my bright ideas....

Remember that time, a couple weeks ago, that I was feeling sad about summer ending? That has passed this week. And while it may be a mix of hormones (we, as in women, can blame everything on hormones. Men should NOT engage in this activity), a slight case of sun poisoning (this is an exaggeration to imply my being done with town pool), and pure exhaustion, it's the last week of summer and my kids and I are officially SO sick of each other. We all need a little break. So, I sent Tommy an email earlier this week about needing some alone time this weekend. It went like this, "Dear Tom, I'm going to fucking kill the kids I could really use a few hours to myself this weekend. Let me know how we can make that happen. But now I have to figure out what to do...and in comes my idea. I think that local hotels should offer an hourly rate. I know what you're thinking. Some shit bag hotels (motels) will do this so that people can go get down. But I don't want to get down. I just want to SIT down or LAY down. Maybe have someone bring me a nice meal. Watch the real housewives. Not have to look at the socks on the floor. In the quiet. All alone. Just for a few hours. It's kind of like a Mommy recharging station. After a few hours I would come out SUCH a better person. I'd be nicer to my kids, my husband would get laid more (you see how I'm playing this), I would start to make baked goods and fried chicken. As far as I can tell, it's a winner of an idea. Let's make this a thing, like right now. 

Wishing you ALL of the Good Stuff. 

XO

Tara

P.S. I know my kids are sick of me as well. Last night, while putting Kelsey (3.5 years old) to bed, she interrupted me mid-story and said, rather flippantly, "let me get some rest now". Okey dokey. Everybody's all done. Good-night.