Yes, I went there.

I bought a Wine Cube from Target today; specifically, a four-pack of of single serving white sangria flavored wines.  I was feeling a little low, and it was $8.00.  I make no apologies.  It was a decent cheap wine; the first icy sips were delicious, and once the heady part of drinking wine hit, the rest of this little juice box went down pretty smoothly.

The box recommends serving it in a glass with fruit bits, like a true sangria, but then why did they bother to make these nifty little servings?  I haven’t tried it yet.  By the time I read the back, I had finished half of it, and I was not in a good state to be chopping up apple bits and orange supremes.  Next time.

What the fuck should I make for dinner? If only they included recipes with their fucking suggestions.

Fuck yeah cupcakes Because who doesn’t fucking love cupcakes?

Fuck yeah chandeliers My parents live in an ancient house, and there are chandeliers in all the rooms.  I used to wave my ribbon dancer all around and I always smashed it into the chandelier with the glass prisms.  My bad Mom.

Fuck yeah! Ryan Gosling Girl, let’s go home and update your blog together.

Fuck yeah! Anne Hathaway Fucking girl crush.

Katie and Michael Marchetto got engaged in one of the sweetest ways possible: he surprised her on a family vacation to Disney World and proposed at Cinderella’s Castle under the midnight fireworks.  Seriously.  Is this real life we are living?  Does this happen?  Apparently yes.

Bethlehem City Hall Plaza

So I traveled back home to witness the wedding of this dear couple. Katie and Mike are from Coopersburg, PA, and they were married in Bethlehem, about twenty minutes from my hometown of Easton, PA.  The picture above gives the idea that it was a beautiful April day.  And it was a beautiful day, for April, but it was also a little windy, which led to it being a bit chilly.

Funny story: the wedding was on 17 April; I knew this.  When I got the invitation I thought: how weird, a Sunday wedding.  And yet on Saturday afternoon I took a shower, got all dolled up, thought I was running late, and RACED to Bethlehem City Plaza, where I ran around like an insane person looking for the wedding party and regretted that I had left my gift on my parents’ kitchen table.  I even went into the public library and asked if they’d seen a wedding.  At 2:15pm I looked at my invitation and realized, duh, the wedding was THE NEXT DAY.  It was a good practice run I guess.

So on the day of the actual wedding I made sure I was ready in plenty of time, and I arrived with the wedding gift in hand.  Bonus surprise of the day: Ross from our writers’ group was there!  He was pretty much my buddy all day.

The Blushing Groom

The ceremony was lovely and intimate.  The readings were beautiful (and I assume chosen by Katie the poet), and the whole thing felt exactly like my idea of a wedding: a crowd of friends and family overjoyed to be sharing a special moment with a beloved couple.

The Beautiful Bride

Yes, I did totally try to photoshop people out of the above picture.

The Vows

The Happy Couple

Look at how happy they are!  What a gorgeous couple.

After a ridiculously roundabout trip (I am embarrassingly bad at navigating the Lehigh Valley), we made it to the Banana Factory for the reception. I had never been (again, embarrassingly bad Lehigh Valley resident), and I was surprised at how intimate the venue was.  We were packed comfortably into an art gallery with a bar, a buffet, and a pianist.  High five, wedding planner.

The Centerpieces

The Green Hooter

My jealousy was slightly ignited by the couples; signature cocktail: the Green Hooter.  I was too much of a bum to think of a signature cocktail for my own wedding.  I have no idea what was in this thing; I believe there was definitely Cointreau, Gin, and pineapple juice, but there was also some other stuff in there.  By the time I drank this I had chugged a generous amount of white wine, so this second beverage went down smoothly.  Ross insisted it tasted like flowers, and he declined further sips after his first taste.

The wedding party eventually danced their way in, and Katie and Mike had their first dance.  There was an appropriate amount of bride twirling.

The Bride's Awesome Backside

Seriously, how amazing does this bride look even from behind?  So gorgeous.

I spent an equal amount of time cake gazing though.  I do love cake.

The Cake

Moral of the story: congratulations Marchettos.  You are married, and you threw an awesome party in celebration of this fact.

Keep on Dancing

As evidenced by the amount of dancing.

Dancing the night away

Still dancing the night away

The drive was beautiful.

Cruisin' for some boozin'

After a stretch of the old legs, we hit up our first tasting.  The wine was delicious.  It was fruity.  And sweet.  And that is all I really remember.  I think it was my favorite tasting, both because it was early and I could actually taste the wine, and because the set-up was the perfect blend of intimacy and information.  We stood elbow to elbow at a counter with a few other people, but not many.

Lookin' awkward

The second tasting was less fun.  I was already feeling heady, so I knew I had to slow down.  We tried six or eight or who knows how many more wines here, and the last few did not taste so great.  I do not have much palate stamina I guess.  We met a lovely couple here, Barefoot Todd and his lovely better half.

Cupcake boobs!

I needed a break from wine, so I made Liz stop for some cupcakes with me.  We had a lovely champagne cupcake, and, feeling revived, wandered off in search of a third wine tasting.

This one was even worse.  A lot of my wine went into a spit cup, which I disposed of in the ladies’ room.  Speaking of spit cups, everyone always says, oh you spit during wine tastings, no one swallows.  Well in Napa, everyone was swallowing!  I am sorry, but I just could not do it.  On the upside, we ran into our friends from the second wine tasting again.  Barefoot Todd is from West Virginia, so we had a nice chat about that.

Fon-yes, please

Then it was homeward bound, where fondue awaited us!  We had fancy olives and a pot full of Budlight Lime and cheeses.  It was delicious.  And I ate way too much.  Who knew a stomach full of wine and cheese would not feel so great?  It was worth it though. So very worth it.

Also, did I mention Liz and Brian have a kitty?

Kitty!

This way kitty!

I didn’t throw up after all, but it was not a pleasant ride.  I was only too happy to watch a few episodes of Supernatural, pass out on Liz’s couch, and sleep in late the next morning.

I was pretty beat when I finally did wake up, and Liz was patient while I hobbled after her around the neighborhood.  We looked at a lagoon!

Duck!

Which is right next to a sewage treatment center, but anyway.

We ate lunch at Cafe Brasil: beef steaks topped with poached eggs, tomato, and cheese!  With potatoes!  And booze!

Mimosas!

After eating too much breakfast, we hit the beach.

Chillaxin'!

All in all it was a relaxed day, that ended with some za (one of my favorite legit Scrabble words) from Pizza My Heart (I love a good pun), and more Jensen Ackles.  I mean Supernatural.

Flowers!

Sea Lion!

I did not realize how immense it was.

In the beginning I was pretty cheerful, and very interested in my surroundings.  The houses perched on the side of the hill are gorgeous, and in amazingly good shape.  I wonder how they get construction crews/painters/movers/etc. to do work.  There weren’t many flat spaces for perching on.  I think once I’d moved into a house on Telegraph Hill, I would be afraid/too lazy to move out until I died.

I took pictures of the Bay, the steps, the skyline, a street sign.  A street sign on the steps, because like in Pittsburgh, there are stairs which count as legitimate city streets.  And then I heard I noise.

I looked to my left.

And beheld a gloriously nude gentleman, who gave me the dirtiest look EVER.  I looked away.  Surely he wasn’t really naked in his window and glaring at me?  I looked back.  Yes, yes he was.

Look naked guy: you are not in the picture!

I hurried on pretty quickly after that, and passed Julius’ Castle, a beautiful but now closed restaurant, and then realized there were MORE steps.  At this point I wished I hadn’t put tights on under my jeans, but it had been so chilly that morning I thought I would need them.

I kept on climbing, and at last reached Coit Tower.  I refused to spend 5 bucks to climb more steps, so here are some fuzzy pictures I took.

Downtown from Telegraph Hill

And here is me looking gross and sweaty with a lovely downtown backdrop.

Nicola+Telegraph Hill=Mess

Going down was, unsurprisingly, a lot easier.  Until I came to the part of the path where I’d passed the naked guy.  What if he was waiting to yell at me, to tell me off for taking pictures in a residential area?  I had a panicked text discussion with Rachel, but eventually made a run for it.

Safely arriving at the bottom of the hill, I divested myself of my tights and headed downtown.  While exploring Pier One the day before, I had spied a bike rental stand, and I was determined to check it out.  A very nice man at Bike and Roll (a hockey fan from Michigan who moved to SF for his girlfriend) set me up with a ride, and I set out.  I was pretty thrilled with my ability to ride in/with traffic, and I took a few pictures at the beginning of my ride.

Fort Point

Ride to Golden Gate

Winter Veggie Sandwich

I stopped at the Fort Mason park to grab and sandwich and a bathroom break.  Also did you know there is a Civil War fort in CALIFORNIA?  Crazy.  Also apparently the Confederates set up a town in Mexico for the sole purpose of selling their cotton to support their army.  Less crazy.

By the time I made it up the hill and to Golden Gate Bridge, I was feeling  a little tired.  I was pretty thrilled riding back and forth across the bridge though, until I got off to take a few pictures.  I know that the Bridge sways quite a bit, but that is not as noticeable as the constant thrumming of the ground as trucks and cars pass by.  I got back on the bike pretty quickly, and headed in the direction of Golden Gate Park, which according to my map was not THAT far away.

Nicola+Golden Gate Bridge+Bike=Pretty Confident

As amazing as biking to and across the Golden Gate Bridge was, and as many times as I have proudly told that story, I am not gonna lie:  after that picture was taken, the rest of my day was pretty shitty.  That day was an equal mixture of awesome and awful, and I can still look back on that day and remember exactly how terrible I felt at the end of it.

There were a lot of hills involved in getting to Golden Gate Park, and by the time I finally got to the Park I was beat.  I wanted to sit down in the Japanese Tea Garden and drink ginger ale.  I wanted to put my feet up.  I wanted to get rid of this bike.  Where was the bike return kiosk?

I checked my map to see where I could turn in my bike.  Looks like I can go…..back downtown.  I had invented a bike return place in the Park in my head.  Oh well, better head downtown, I’ve got 2 hours to get this bike back to its owner.  La di da, riding down this steep long hill is lovely….why am I seeing the ocean?

Because I biked in the wrong direction, and I was on the exact opposite side of San Francisco that I needed to be.

An hour later I was still trying to get out of the park, stopping strangers for direction, and crying without tears because I’d run out of water three hours ago, I had 45 minutes to get this bike back, and I was just exiting the park.

Fortunately, I ran into a very nice man who said, hey, if you need to get downtown, and you get on that bus right there right now, it will get you right where you need to be.

Thank you random stranger, thank you bus driver who was very patient while I buckled my bike to the rack, thank you bike rental kiosk for still being open after I raced through rush hour traffic on my bike to get to you!

Then, dinner time.  I rode with Rachel from the Embarcadero to the Mission, recounting my miserable tale.  I have to say, Rachel, having spent her day in an office, was not sympathetic, urging me to consider how wonderful the experience was.  It was wonderful until I COULDN’T CRY TEARS because I was so miserable and dehydrated.  So yes, as wonderful as it was to cross the Golden Gate Bridge on bike, if I had to do it all over again I would skip the park; I would have ridden straight back to the bike rental center from the Bridge.

Back in the Mission, we met up with my friends Liz and Brian, and still had time to kill before dinner, so we visited…

826 Valencia!

826 Valencia!  It was closed, but still; I saw it.

Dinner was at Esperpento, and it was fabulous.  We had the Gambas Al Ajillo, Tortilla de Patata, Patatas Bravas, Champinones Al Ajillo, rabbit stew, and also some asparagus which I don’t see on the menu anymore.  It was all pretty great, and I neglected to take pictures of any of it.

An end to a day

Oh well.

Since the last real update, a lot has happened to little old me.  I quit my job.  I used all the money I’d saved up from said job to fly to and then eat my way across (a very small part) of California.  It was pretty neat, except that I stupidly went during my last few weeks of classes, so that I had to do a lot of work while I was traveling.  Would you like to see what I did?

Well first I got my hair cut, and then I bought a bunch of stuff for my trip to California.  This is a picture of me sitting in the airport wearing my new obnoxious pink sunglasses.  Note that they are not obnoxious new sunglasses; I only buy obnoxious sunglasses.

I flew from Gainesville, Florida to Charlotte.  My flight was pretty nice, and I was able to read a good portion of Remember me? by Sophie Kinsella, which, PS I really enjoyed.  Obviously I wasn’t attached to this main character as much as Becky Bloomwood, but that chick has five (and soon to be six) books about her already.  Anyway, another solid book from Kinsella.

In Charlotte I bought my usual over-priced praline from that chocolate shop next to the winery between the main concourse and I think concourses C or D?  You know what I mean, that section near about a mile of moving walkway.  I got my praline, and a chipotle truffle, and I settled myself into Starbucks where I chugged a $12 Fiji water (outrageous) and worked on schoolwork for a bit.  The chipotle truffle was meh.

My second flight from Charlotte to San Francisco was wonderful; I had a full row to myself.  I was able to finish my book, read for class, and do some personal writing.  Arrival in SF was less than stellar; I was supposed to meet my friend Rachel and I very nearly got lost looking for her by the BART.  But we did eventually meet up and ride the train all the way into downtown where we dined at a lovely Elephant and Castle.  Rachel then proceeded to keep me up late while she packed up her suitcases in preparation for moving into her apartment the next morning.

nicola drinking coffee

The next day was when things got really exciting.  After a decadent little snack at Peet’s, we too took the cab from downtown to the Mission, lugged Rachel’s bags up to her new room, and then rode the BART back into downtown where I got a tour of her office in the Pearson Publishing building.  It was lovely and made jobless me jealous, but then I got to peace out to go hang out at the Starbucks in the Levi Strauss Plaza across the way.

I am going to take a moment to tell you that if you like Starbucks and you like free wi-fi, make sure you have a registered Starbucks card!!!  It doesn’t even have to have any money on it (after the initial activation) and you get two hours of free wi-fi every day from now to, apparently, infinity!  It is pretty great, especially since that is about how long my laptop lasts unplugged.  So I sat in the Starbucks for two hours doing homework and drinking their new Dark Cherry Mocha.  It was meh, but other people have told me they like it.  You have probably already tried it, since this was very nearly a month ago.

After that mocha I needed to use the pot STAT, so I wandered over to the main Levi Strauss building, where I used their very clean public restroom, and then I wandered around their little museum for a while.  They have a historical clothing exhibit set up, as well as letters from satisfied customers from the archives.  It was a neat historical snack.

I also wandered outside, where I played around on the fountain for awhile.

Then I made my way back downtown and peered at the piers for a while, but I had a train to catch.  A train to BERKELEY, where I had a two o’clock reservation for one at CHEZ PANISSE (CAFE).  I was pretty proud of myself for managing to navigate my way to Berkeley, and thrilled when I took my seat. And then felt immediately awkward.  I could see my stern little face in the polished bronze runner around the room, and everyone around me was chatting happily, and there was I, a little sweaty and feeling out of place, watching myself chow down on some delicious bread.  It sort of killed my food buzz, even though I told myself not to be silly and focus on the food ( a salty vinegary shaved fennel salad and a semolina garlic soup), and while I tried to enjoy myself I now know to never underestimate how eating alone can ruin a meal.  Especially if you think the restaurant will judge you for reading while you eat their  famous food.

I bought some cookies to go, and I’m glad I did because the only picture I have to commemorate this milestone moment is a picture I took of the box with my phone, and then I undertook the long, $8 ride back to the Mission in San Francisco.  Rachel had been at home painstakingly screwing together her Ikea bed, so I helped her finish that, and she helped me eat the Chez Panisse cookies, and then we very grumpily trekked to Bed Bath and Beyond and snarked at each other while trying to buy Rachel sheets.

Whip it

We finally got them, ate some dinner, and went back to the apartment, where I helped put together a set of drawers while trying to get Rachel to watch Emma. She was less impressed than I was.

Coming soon: Day Two!

Imp and Arn out and about

First I mixed up my 1.5 minus 1-ish tablespoons of flour (I measured with the soup spoon I use to scoop the flour into the measuring cup), 1 cup sugar, 1/4 cup dark cocoa powder, 1 tsp baking soda, and 1/2 tsp salt in a big old glass bowl.

Then I dutifully made three divets, and poured in 1 tbs white vinegar (Heinz of course), 1-ish tsp vanilla, and 1/3 cup of canola oil.  It was the cheap kind because it was supposed to get me 30 cents in CVS cash except that Ira paid for it and I forgot to swipe my card.

The normal Nicola would have just dumped all that liquid any which way.  But this cake scared me because it is all vegan and doesn’t have eggs and whatnot, so I just did what the recipe said.  My dough/batter looked like clumped kitty litter:

But then I remembered my 1 cup of icy cold water.  I put ice cubes in it and everything.

I’m not quite sure I used a whole cup, but my batter was looking lovely and wet.  So I poured it into my pan and baked it.  I used a cake pan!

Then I dusted it with powdered sugar, forgot to take a picture, and shared it with my coworkers.  I may have had a slice and a half, and while it was tasty, it erred on the side of cakey rather than fudgy.  It had a light chocolate flavor, which I guess one could expect from a vegan treat.  (Even if mine wasn’t strictly vegan: I used Publix brand flour and sugar) I wouldn’t say it is my favorite manifestation of chocolate cake, but it was good enough.  And my coworkers gobbled it up, so clearly other people really like it.