22nd Birthday Dinner

The birthday dinner post is just a tad (okay, 2 weeks) late, I know. But for some reason, posting things out of order really stresses me out, so I needed to write this post before I could tell you all about my lovely trip to Santa Barbara and Los Angeles. And Super Bowl excitement and starting classes again got in the way of everything, as well.So, without further ado. My birthday dinner celebration was wonderful, and greatly in part to L., who always goes out of his way to throw the best parties for me. I had my own little birthday throne at the head of our 20 (!) person table, with decorations L. had set up before I got there:


The mastermind party-planner, himself (he wore his glasses just for me, even though he hates to!):


But the best part of the night, which you can sort of see in the picture above, was the surprise Green Bay Packers birthday cake that L. had made for me! It made my entire night, and the pieces our server cut, as you can see, were HUGE. I didn't get to take a picture of the whole thing before they took it away to cut it, but here was my slice (I enlisted the help of four of my friends to finish it):


Best birthday cake ever.

For dinner, I ordered a huge burger with cheddar cheese, sprouts, tomato, lettuce, bacon, avocado, and garlic aioli. It's what I get every time we go to the Purple Pub in Williamstown (when I'm letting myself indulge, at least!) It's DELICIOUS.

Thank you, L. and all my friends, for such a wonderful birthday! A laid-back dinner and a huge piece of green and yellow cake was just what I needed.

GO PACK GO

Today's menu:

Baked mac and cheese with gorgonzola, parmesan, and Wisconsin white cheddar

Spinach and artichoke dip with alfredo, cream cheese, parmesan, and mozzarella

...notice a theme?*

Also, green and yellow cupcakes.

Let's goPackers!



*(It's cheese!)

UPDATE:

I'm Back!

L. and I (begrudgingly) left sunny Santa Barbara on Monday and had a nightmare of a travel experience home, including a panic attack (mine) on the flight out (I was so nervous and trying so hard to hold in my tears that I started hyperventilating, and I whispered to L. "I can't breathe," and then then yelled "you can't BREATHE?!" which scared me right out of my panic attack), and flying straight into a blizzard when we reached Albany, NY (the closest airport to Williamstown). Actually, when we got in to Albany around midnight Monday, the snow hadn't started yet, but the drive to Williamstown is over a really scary, high, and treacherous mountain where the guardrails won't help you if you slide, so in case there was black ice we opted to stay in a hotel in Albany Monday night. Of course, when I woke up just after 7 the next morning (4am in my body...yuck), I peeked out the window only to discover that around three inches of snow had already fallen. Fail. So we packed up as quickly as we could and embarked on a terrifying drive home (the normally hour-long drive took almost three), but I was just glad L. got us home safely. (And, props to the Subaru. That thing is better in the snow than my SUV).

We started classes yesterday (though most of them got canceled) and things have just been generally busy, busy, busy over here. I'm running around getting textbooks, trying to squeeze in some hours at my internship, and tackling the 500+ pages of reading I already have due early next week. Too bad Sunday is the most IMPORTANT DAY OF THE YEAR, nay, my life, so if it means starting the semester off massively behind on my work, well then, so be it. I mean, it is senior spring, after all.

I'll post a birthday recap before the end of the week and a Santa Barbara/LA recap (probs two posts) next week, but if the Packers lose on Sunday and you don't hear from me for awhile, assume that I am a. curled up in the fetal position somewhere, crying, and/or b. clutching a bottle of wine and refusing to leave the couch.

Speaking of Superbowl, what are you guys having for snacks?! I have to admit that I am less inclined to cook all day this time, as I normally do for Green Bay games, because I don't want to miss a second of pre-game footage, but we're thinking of ordering out buffalo wings to save me the trouble of dipping a million pieces of chicken in panko crumbs and basting them in Frank's Red Hot. I'm also thinking of making my famous spinach and artichoke dip, and beefy, cheesy nachos. Maybe baked macaroni and cheese balls. And to think, I started doing South Beach again yesterday. Sigh. The things I do for the Packers...

That time I reinforced gender stereotypes at an NFL game

I'm sure everyone has heard about how the Green Bay/New England game went last night. I won't even type the four-letter word that begins with "l" and rhymes with "cost." Before I detail the way the night almost ended in disaster, let's talk about how out-of-my-mind I was excited in the hours leading up to the game:

9:00am: Michelle wakes up for some last-minute studying for her 1:30pm Bio exam; cries a little; curses finals; curses college and higher education; wonders if it's too late to go to culinary school.

2:30pm: Michelle finishes Bio exam and, with it, her LAST FALL SEMESTER EVER at Williams College. Cries a little (out of joy); comes home, packs to go home for Christmas.

3:41pm: Michelle takes a silly picture of she and L. wearing their Rodgers/Brady jerseys, posts it on the blog.

4:00pm: Michelle and L. get on the road, stock up on Bugles and embark on the three hour drive to Gillette Stadium.

7:00pm: L. and Michelle decide it will be cheapest to park a mile and a half away from the stadium. They pay $40, which turns out to be a bargain. The following (possibly dramatized) exchange takes place when they get out of the car:

M: Wow, it's not that cold at all!
L: No, it's not, this should be great!
M: It doesn't even feel like winter! It feels like a chilly fall night! I'll definitely be warm with these two sweaters under my Aaron Rodgers jersey! I DON'T EVEN NEED A COAT! (Note: The actual temperature was in the 20s, with wind chill, probably lower.)
Random Guy at the Porter-Potty: Wow, a Green Bay fan and a Patriots fan! Together! In a relationship!
M: YEAH lolz one of us is going to be very upset on the car ride home lolz haha! (I couldn't have known how much I would regret that statement).

7:45pm: We finally get into the stadium and I rush down to the first level to watch the Packers warm up. I couldn't have even anticipated that I would have been that excited. One of the widest, most genuine smiles in my recent memory spreads across my face. I spot Matt Flynn and Clay Matthews and Donald Driver and Greg Jennings (and Tom Brady...I can't lie and say I don't love him) and wonder if this is real life. Can I do this every weekend?


8:20pm: Kickoff. I am dying. With glee and joy and happiness.

Then, PACKERS ONSIDES KICK! RECOVERED! And then Packers are up on the Patriots! And then Matt Flynn is playing better than Tom Brady! And then HOLY CRAP WE MIGHT WIN!

Then I got cocky and got into some arguments with drunk belig New England men. One of them said "You're in New England Sweet-haaat!" Note: Drunk Patriots fans are really good at Geography.

When I wasn't arguing with drunk New Englanders, I was creepily stalking Aaron Rodgers on the sidelines through my binoculars.

Also, we were sitting with a lot of Packers fans and so we were in good company and I made friends.


LOOK AT MATT FLYNN! I LOVE HIM!


This is the last time I would be happy for a long time. I had also finally given in and put on my coat, because I was literally shaking uncontrollably and probably hypothermic.

Then. Then things took a turn for the worse. Suddenly, I wasn't jeering and taunting and screaming and high-fiving with the other cheeseheads and generally being an awesome cool girl whose team rocks at sports. Suddenly, every time the Patriots scored I found myself sitting silently in my seat as a stadium full of 60,000 people jumped up to their feet around me. It kept getting worse; suddenly it was the fourth quarter and the Patriots were up by 4. Suddenly there were only 19 seconds left and we were on the fourth down. I felt myself starting to break down; I couldn't help it. It was my first NFL game, my first Packers game, we had played better football for basically the whole game, I was so proud of/impressed by Matt Flynn and really wanted this for him, and, most of all, even though I can be a rough-and-tumble, trash-talking, hot-dog guzzling sports fan like the best of them...I am an emotional girl at heart, and something really, really bad was about to happen.

I repeated "please please please" about fifty times in the eleven or so seconds that remained. But suddenly, the clock was down to zero, and we were still down by four. The entire stadium jumped to its feet in an uproar; I felt the tears rush forth and I jumped from my seat, struggling to hold back my sobs, and left as quickly as I could. L. ran after me and we walked down the six (!) ramps from our seats in the upper balcony, and I gave myself one of the worst headaches I've ever had from struggling to hold in my tears. I know you guys are probably laughing about this and maybe in a few days I'll get to a place where I can see how it's funny, too, but I just got really emotional about the whole thing. I was absolutely devastated. L. felt awful and couldn't even gloat properly, so while I stood dejectedly in the sea of cheering and congratulating fans, he got an idea.

He went up to one of the vendors and asked him a question, and then came back and led me away from the exit, where the herd was gathering. He took me down a side hallway and out a side door, and we walked around the outside of the stadium, where we found ourselves in front of the Packers' buses. L. asked the security if they would be coming out soon, and they said if we hung around for a half hour or so, we should get to see some of the players. My tears slowed. Then, the security guards whispered that if we headed over to the little grassy patch to our left, where the friends and family usually waited, we might get to see some of THE players. My tears stopped. And thus began our wait: Me, L., a family with a little boy with awesome green and yellow face paint, and actual legitimate players' friends and family. After only about fifteen minutes of waiting, I saw Clay Matthews exit the stadium and get on the bus. Then, I started getting excited again. I was shaking uncontrollably but if Rodgers came out, I wanted him to know I was a true fan, so I took off my coat. L. said I was crazy; I said I was loyal; he said I was stubborn; I said I wasn't.

Then, to our left, all the friends and family ran over to greet Josh Sitton. And then, not longer after that, out came...


MATT FLYNN.

I debated going over to talk to him for about 5 minutes, as L. told me that if I didn't I would regret it forever. Finally, I went over (awkwardly meekly) but, as I was walking, I realized I had no idea what to call him. Matt? Flynn? Mr. Flynn? Matt Flynn? When I finally got up to him and his whole group turned to look at me, I sort of whispered "Matt?" He smiled, and I felt encouraged. "I'm so sorry to interrupt," I said, "but I just wanted you to know that this was my first NFL game at I'm so glad I got to see you start." He smiled and said thank you, and I added, "I mean, I just spent the last 20 minutes sobbing, so my night is really looking up now," at which his mom laughed. He smiled again and laughed and said thank you, and I walked away beaming. The little boy and I hung around a little longer, hoping to see Rodgers (who we didn't see), but we did see Mike McCarthy and Charles Woodson. The night was saved, and we walked around the amazing Patriots Place before (barely) making it back to the car and got home and I fell asleep warm and happy.

(PS: Do you guys like the new header??)

Some Singing and Some Pasta

As I mentioned on Friday, L. had a solo in his a cappella concert, singing Love and Memories by O.A.R. Here's the rockstar now:



Pretty great, huh? The concert was super fun and, as you can hear, really high-charged with energy. That may or may not have been a factor of legitimate excitement to hear these cute boys sing, and the pregaming that most likely went on beforehand. C. and I collected money (Octet's tickets are "about a dollar") before the show and in return got specially reserved seats. The boys had a big party afterward which was okay, if not highly testosterone-charged. Senior Biology Major, who you might recall from this post, showed up and went on for awhile about how lucky I was to have someone, and he said he thought college was the best time to have a boyfriend or girlfriend. Having a boyfriend is great, I told him, but you get to meet all kinds of new people! His response? "So do you...you met me." This conversation followed one we had Thursday at the bar, and I don't think I can doubt that he's into me now. I'm hoping we can be friends--I've already tried to help him with some other girl issues he has--and he's leaving to go study in an exotic country on a fellowship after he graduates anyway, so he's a non-issue. The attention is definitely nice, but I was anxious to find and get back to L. Then we played Wii, which is always better than a party, in my opinion.

Saturday was our one and a half year anniversary! It might seem silly to celebrate a halfsies anniversary, but we didn't get to make a big deal out of our one year since it was the tech weekend for the play I was directing, so we ordered pizza and watched the Green Bay Packers game. If you know me, you know that that was actually perfection, since I'm a major cheesehead, but it was nice to actually make a big deal out of an anniversary.

We drove to Pittsfield, which is about a half hour drive from Williamstown, for our 8:15 reservation at Elizabeth's, a tiny family-style Italian cafe that's owned by an adorable husband and wife couple: Tom and, you guessed it, Elizabeth. Isn't their menu adorable? Sorry for the poor quality of the pictures; we took them on L.'s iPhone.

Elizabeth's is probably the best dining experience I've ever had. The only forms of payment they accept are cash, check, and IOUs. Yes, they actually do accept IOUs, mostly because people show up with credit cards, order oodles of delicious noodles, and then have no means by which to pay. Every meal comes with warm, crusty, fresh-baked bread (as much as you want!), and a huge metal bowl of a really eclectic salad that's always changing-- ours had strawberries, cheddar, parmesan, kiwi, potatoes, lettuce, carrots, celery...it is so good.

I ordered their Gorgonzola stuffed shells (on the other side of the menu, in case you were looking for them above!) It sounded like it would be too rich, and lo and behold, it was, but only in the way that chocolate cake can be too rich--you might get a little sick but it's just so delicious!


Look at how gooey and gloppy that Gorgonzola is...and how some of the shells are just perfectly crisp. It was like homemade baked macaroni and cheese...without the bread crumbs. Perfection.

L. got the Pasta with Bolognaise sauce, which intially I thought I wouldn't like. When I thought of Bolognaise I also thought of Hollondaise sauce, which I detest. I thought Bolognaise would be a white sauce, but when it arrived on L.'s plate, it was a delicious, meaty, tomato-y, amazing looking gem of a dish:


I like some tomato in my pasta, and while my gooey, gloppy cheese was DELICIOUS for the first few bites, I realized that I couldn't finish it. I did, however, eat quite a few forkfuls of L.'s pasta. He liked it too, as you can see:


We were too stuffed for dessert by the time we finished our meals, but when we said we weren't going to order any, Tom (who likes to walk around and talk to everyone while they eat, while Lizzie cooks up the food in the open-concept kitchen and "chef's tables" dining room), sent over some delicious thin, crispy sourdough cookies on the house. We somehow found room to eat those.


Thank you L. for a delicious, romantic, and completely non-South Beach friendly anniversary!

In other news, I promised a Poli Sci Jeps recap for all y'all, so stay tuned for that...(hint: it did NOT go as well as hoped.)

Re: Betrayal

We all know the feeling.

You love someone deeply. You're committed to every success he has, and every failure he suffers, you suffer with him. When's he's happy, he makes you happy, and when he's down all you want is to stand behind him every step of the way until things start looking up. Hell, he's so good you even scream his name.

But sometimes, that wonderful, giving, two-way-street relationship can go belly up. At some point, his ego gets the best of him. He becomes erratic, temperamental. He stops performing his best, even though you know he has it in him to be better because you've, well, witnessed it. And eventually he commits the ultimate douche move: he betrays you. He breaks your heart, in the least subtle way possible, and makes sure to publicly rub the salt in your wounds whenever anyone pays attention to him long enough for him to get the chance.

And at the end of it all, you're only left with one question: What happened to the Brett Favre I used to love?Our relationship started as sweetly as any. I was young and naive, and he was successful and perfect. He did things I never thought any man could ever do. He started more consecutive games than any other NFL quarterback. He collected passing records like he probably could have collected underwear, had he not married his childhood sweetheart: touchdown passes, attempts, yards. He has the most wins of a starting QB. When he was named Sports Illustrated's Sportsman of the Year in 2007, I swooned. And he was just so superior to other men. He broke virtually all Dan Marino's records in the 2007 season. And when he got hurt, my heart leapt to my throat. Things like knee injuries and shoulder separations, at his age, could have been the end of everything. He constantly kept me living on the edge.

Oh, and I loved his friends. How many women can say that about the man they love? They're great! Ryan Grant, the newcomer. He might have come late in the game but he became our secret favorite from the beginning. He's always on the go; a fast-mover. But we love that about him. Greg Jennings, the dependable one. I'll always remember the Monday night that he stole my heart when he caught an 82 yard pass from my man in overtime and returned it for the game-winning TD. Jennings is definitely not a man who will betray you. You know he'll stick around, at least until 2012 when his contract is up. He's the type who will always have your man's back and be there whenever he turns around. Donald Driver, the high-performer. The best friend. His consistency is a trait that's rare to find. He's a true leader.

And the best part about his friends? Now that he's out of the picture, I'm closer with them than ever.

See, things started to go downhill in the last couple years. We got into a sort of, well, slump. I started to question his loyalty. We tearfully decided to break it off in March of 2008, and I thought, well, that's it. It's over. He would have forever lived on in my mind as a truly great man, someone worthy of a Hall-of-Fame induction. And then, to my great shock and disappointment, he commited his first infidelity: after the whole "it's not you, it's me" speech, he chose another team. He chose another team after the Green Bay Packers, with whom he spent 16 wonderful seasons.

Sure, he asked me to take him back, but I had already found a younger man, the oh-so-incredible Aaron Rodgers, to deal with the heartbreak of his decision to leave. Now, before you call me catty for being super into Aaron, let me just remind you that Brett Favre was a father figure to him, a mentor. And it was the team, which Rodgers had no control over, that made the decision to not offer Favre a place to return but instead bump Rodgers up to QB. Reportedly, Brett Favre hasn't spoken to Rodgers for over a year after the whole thing went down. That's catty. When Brett found out there was just no place for him on the Packers anymore, he did the unthinkable and went to the New York Jets. Um, rebound? Of course they didn't have what he needed (who does?) and I'm not surprised that he began having, er, "problems performing" with them too towards the end. It's that arm of his. Like Helen of Troy had the Face That Launched a Thousand Ships, Brett Favre has the Arm that Earned the Record for the Most Interceptions by an NFL Quarterback. So like I said, I wasn't surprised when he left them too. Good riddance, thought I; but the end was still on pleasant terms: the Jets released him from his contract, and I told him we could still be friends.

Well, that was then. Today, it's been confirmed by the Vikings that Brett Favre, indeed, will be trading his Packer-Green and Jet-Green jerseys in for Vikings-Purple. This comes not more than three weeks after he told coach Brad Childress he was staying put in retirement-land for real this time.

Betray me once, shame on you. Betray me twice, shame on you even more and, p.s., you're so in the doghouse. Inter-division cheating? That's like breaking up with me and dating my best friend.

If I sound bitter, I don't mean to be. He was once the great love of my life, and I'll always have great memories of our time together. But now, I don't even know who he is anymore.

Brett, we're so over. And it's not me, it's you.

xoxo,
Michelle.

[Images from DesiComments.com, The River Reporter, MouthpieceSports.com]