Wednesday, October 26, 2011

blessings in disguise

As many of you know I have been looking for employment. I thought it would be nice to get out a bit and help out with at least one bill. The girls would go to daycare. I convinced myself that going to daycare would allow them an opportunity to socialize with other children and build up their immune systems. All in all working would be a win-win situation.

After conditionally accepting a part-time position, I went in to observe and speak with the person I'd be replacing. I was in love. The job seemed a perfect fit and everyone was very friendly. Not two hours later, I learned of my correct salary. Let's just say I'm a firm believer in NOT paying to work. The pay would not even cover part time childcare fees.

I thought what a waste. What was my purpose in coming in today? Why did God feel it necessary to tease me with the idea of having a wonderful job? I decided to speak to the lady I was going to replace and let her know of the situation. This is when His plan became quite clear.

This wonderful woman I had just met gave me some honest and sincere words of wisdom. She told me that she stayed home with her children and when she looks back on her past she thinks about what she missed out on and her answer is always...nothing. She was there to watch her children grow. She admitted that her husband was not earning a high salary at that time and money was often tight, but she has always been a person that could go without. My heart warmed. She went on to explain that so many people believe that they NEED two working parents in the home, but what are you really trading in? She explained that instead of one working parent who may be stressed, you have two. Two tired adults who usually have to play catch up on the weekends and after work to get things done and sometimes dont have time to enjoy life or get out of the house because they are tired or there is laundry to finish etc.

Now, dont get me wrong. Some people like to work and others HAVE to work. There are different situations and circumstances for every family. At this time in my life, and under the current living situation my family is in, it is a blessing that I am able to stay home with my girls. It was the confirmation I needed that this is my place- at least for now. I can play with my girls, teach them, cook delicious meals, clean my home and spend my husband's off days enjoying him and our family time. Sometimes we just need a reminder. I prayed that God would give me this job if that's where I am to be. I feel that meeting this woman and having this 15minute conversation was the reason I was offered this job. You think you know what's good for you until you're slapped in the face with a double dose of reality.

If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.

I cant wait to see how this first Halloween in Germany pans out :)

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Chapter 3: Raza

*I've been working to finish this book by the end of November. I'm going to release one more chapter now, but the rest will be all at once!*

Chapter 3
There are so many blessings in my life and I really do try to count them and appreciate them all. I’m just tired. Tired of pretending. Clinton and I have been married almost three years and we’ve been trying to have a baby for the last two. It didn’t really concern me in the beginning because I had been taking birth control since I was a teen and the doctors told us it could take longer for my body to return to its normal cycle, but this is just ridiculous. I pretend it doesn’t bother me and I pretend that everything is okay. It’s what I do best. My pretending is so good I believe it myself sometimes. That’s when things get dangerous. If I start believing my own lies, are they still lies? My husband calls me everyday. My friends think it’s romantic and that he is so sweet. That may be true, but I know Clinton. He calls to make sure I haven’t killed myself. That’s him calling now. 
“Hello...? Clinton is that you?” I don’t know why I ask that since his face and name appear on my iPhone prior to me answering. 
“Hey babe. Sorry about that. Just reading through these emails. What are you up to gorgeous?” his voice sounds a little too sweet today. He probably has been fantasizing about Lenore again. That mess is so obvious and he thinks I don’t see it. I see it. I ignore it. Another one of my lies I suppose. 
“No worries. I’m just about to head out. I’m teaching a class on knives today at the store. How’d your meeting go?” until he called I had completely lost track of time. I own my own catering business and I teach classes there to keep me occupied. Plus the additional money I make from it fuels my shopping addiction. As he rambles on about the boring details of his meeting I scramble to find something to wear and start to pull my hair in a high ponytail. “That’s great, babe. I’m sure everything will work out.” I have no clue what he just said, but that’s my go to response and 90% of the time it applies to his long mundane conversations. 
“I’m going to invite Lenore over for dinner tonight. I don’t think she has been doing too well since she lost her mother last month. Maybe you can cook something fantastic to brighten her spirits? I have to run, it’s time for me to rally my troops. I’m thinking 7:30 this evening. Love you, bye.” Clinton’s voice cut off at the end because I clicked the end button right as I heard the words 7:30. Damn phone has a delay between me pressing the button and the call actually ending. I may pretend everything is okay, but I’m pretty sure people see right through it. I guess I just pretend they don’t. What the hell I look like cooking for this man and the woman he pines after day in and day out. Sorry you lost your mom, I really am, but you don’t have anyone else to turn to? My husband’s shoulder is not reserved for office sluts. And what is he talking about cook something fantastic? Like I don’t cook something fantastic every damn night. Oh no, I guess not. I guess when I’m sweating and slaving in this kitchen every night I only produce food good enough for commoners. What was I thinking? Royalty is coming tonight. Oh I got something tasty in mind for her. Yea, I’ll lay out the red carpet and present a meal neither one of them will ever forget. I think today is a new day. I’m thinking today is the day Raza grabs hold of the rings and leads herself out of misery. Where the hell did I put my car keys? What a perfect day to freshen up my knife skills. 

Friday, October 14, 2011

a la mode

That's right. Fatty McFatty is back on the scene. Why can't I seem to find the time (really the motivation) to workout? Why? Because things like SaraLee's Cinnamon French Apple Pie exist. I have zero willpower. When I workout and eat healthy I am the one that has to throw out all of the desserts and junk food before beginning my new life. I cant seem to understand why I have so many "farewell to fat" meals, but the fat is still around! I tell my husband ok this is going to be my last unhealthy meal. So, we grab some of that f-ing delicious chicken and I proudly proclaim, "This is my farewell to fat meal!" And he looks at me with those loving eyes because he knows better than anyone that I'm hopeless.

My hubby loves vanilla ice cream with his pies. I wasn't a huge fan, but when you can't beat em... join em. He is also a sucker for apple pie. The other night he told me he liked the apple pie with that crunchy stuff on top. I asked if he was referring to cinnamon, but he wasn't sure. I was 99% positive that's what he meant. So, I reached for my trusty coupon binder and found a $1 off SaraLee desserts. The next day I planned a nice salmon teriyaki with fresh sautéed green beans and brown rice. Of course, for dessert, I picked up this pie I luckily found at the commissary. The instructions were simple enough so I pre-heated my oven and ripped open the box. Ok... where's the center pie crust? I looked down at this pile of apples and thought oh this is going to be gross. My favorite part is the crust and these idiots have taken my deliciousness meter down 50%! Oh well, I stuck it in the oven and added the cinnamon crumbles halfway as instructed. I let it sit for a few hours and I still didn't think it looked all that great. No way was I getting a "THIS IS F-ing DELICIOUS!" comment from this presentation, but I didn't make it from scratch. I remembered the french vanilla ice cream at the store and thought that my husband isn't too picky, I'm sure he will enjoy it.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!?? After we ate dinner I grabbed the pie and ice cream. We dug in and I melted into my seat. All that was wrong with the world fled from my mind. It was like everything in front of me turned into swirling circles of colors. Those circles then began to form into dancing apple slices. The apples had cinnamon in their hands and they threw it in the air so that they were sprinkling themselves. One by one they jumped into a dish of ice cream. My husband was staring at me as I stared wide-eyed into space. When I tell you this pie was good... I can't even get the words out... two days later. It was amazing. I honestly believe had my husband not been there I would've devoured the whole pie and not one ounce of regret would've escaped my body. Instead we wrapped it up and placed it in the fridge. As I was clearing the dishes, I couldn't help myself and I grabbed the serving spoon and plunged it into my mouth licking it clean. He laughed and shook his head, but I didn't care. I needed that last little bit before packing it away.

The next day it was all I could think about. How damn stupid I had been for not discovering this years ago. I kept hearing a baby cry, but both of my girls were playing with their toys content and distracted. Again, this crying started up. I realized it was coming from the kitchen. I went to take a look. Yes, the apple pie was crying for me to eat it. It was sad no one had given it any attention all day. I thought how sad and I promised it I would be back for it very soon. We both agreed it was best I lick the top of it, but I told it I'd better not as my husband may want some and I may have a guest over who'd like a slice. So, I closed the refrigerator door and continued to play with my girls. I still heard it cry out, but its sobs died down throughout the day.

Until this evening when I packed in another giant slice along with 3 scoops of french vanilla ice cream. I can not help myself. There are some things in life that must not be ignored... Sara Lee's Cinnamon French Apple Pie is one of them.

There's still some pie left. I did practice a bit of self control. I am seriously contemplating rehab... Hello, my name is Elisha and I'm addicted to apple pie :)

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Hey everyone! I'm back in the kitchen and loving the new recipes I've tried. I made pan seared chicken and onion cheddar mashed potatoes yesterday. Yumm!

I followed this recipe for the chicken. I didn't shred the chicken. I used breast halves with the bone in. I also seasoned with Italian dressing (it's what I had) and seasoning salt, garlic powder and black pepper.

For the potatoes I followed this recipe:


5 pounds yukon gold potatoes
3/4 cup 2% milk
3 tablespoons butter (we use Smart Balance)
1 cup shredded sharp Cheddar cheese
1 white onion chopped and sautéed
salt and pepper, to taste

Cut potatoes into large chunks; rinse well. Cover potatoes with water and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and boil gently for about 20 minutes, until tender. Drain the potatoes and return to the pot. Add the milk and butter; beat until you like the consistency. Mine are a little chunky. Stir in shredded cheese and onions. Add salt and pepper to taste. (original recipe before my modifications can be found here)

By the way, if you try any of these recipes PLEASE let me know how they turned out for you and if you made any modifications. I have some salmon marinating in a teriyaki sauce I made... I'll post that recipe and the outcome later this week. I'm still working on the book as well. Im sure I'll have some more pages ready for posting this weekend!

Until then ciao!

Friday, October 7, 2011

the beginning of my novel

*Here are the first few pages of my novel... like me, it's a work in progress. Tell me what you think.*


Title: Epiphany

Fridays are my favorite day of the week. I can see everyone bustling about the office trying to hide their excitement for the weekend. These mothafuckas dont know how to live at all. I work in a boring ass accounting firm. Most of the time I just sit in my office and play solitaire. Im an executive assistant to the CEO. Big deal... I’m his glorified secretary. I’m not stupid. This fat ass and these big DSLs (dick sucking lips) got me this job and I’m not complaining. 
Im definitely not hard to look at. I’ve got light brown eyes, flawless mocha skin, and long naturally curly hair. These hoes always trying to dog me in this office, but if they spent more time at the gym and less time worrying about what I’m doing they wouldn't have to wonder if I’m fucking their man. They need to be worrying about if their man is trying to fuck me. 
Lately, I’ve been in a funky mood. And it shows. My jobs is boring. I sit behind this desk all day. There’s one time each day that I can honestly say Im excited. I get a little warm tingling feeling all over my body and I dont even try to hide it. Each morning the CEO has a meeting with the heads of each department. Clint works on the 2nd floor and I’m the 4th so I dont see him after this, but those few minutes are like heaven. 
Clint isn't built like a football player and he isn't really that cute. He is an average brother. You can tell he keeps in shape, but doesn't hit the weights too often. He has a very lean body. His teeth are very straight and very white which gleam against his dark chocolate skin. He always is dressed to perfection from head to toe. I’ve never seen even a single piece of lint on his clothing or anything out of place. Clint is married. His wife is gorgeous. I’ve seen her three times and each time all I could think about was her walking in on us fucking. I imagine his head between my legs and breasts in the air. She walks in and he doesn't even stop until I climax. Damn, now that’s some shit. I dont really give a shit about their marriage or if he is happy or not. I just know that I need to fuck this man. I want his hands all in my hair and his lips devouring my neck. 
Every time I see Clint I smile and flirt, but I just cant break him. I cant get a peep from him. Not even a cute flirty smile back. It’s always super professional and short. I dress sexy, but not slutty and I make sure my hair and makeup are perfect. I know I look good because I walk down the hall and both men and women turn to stare. My nasty old ass boss calls me into his office on way too many occasions for absolutely no reason at all. But I know he just wants to see my ass in these tight as pencil skirts. And you better believe I make sure he does. I dont make $75,000 a year because of my typing skills.
As Clint is leaving the office I make my way to cut him off at the door. I very politely ask him if I may speak with him. It’s important I wait until everyone else has left. I dont want everyone in my business, plus it’s not as easy for him if someone else is listening. Im determined to sleep with this man. I need to. It’s like an addiction. Im not trying to be his girlfriend or even a steady fuck buddy. I just want to ride this stallion one time and exit stage left. 
Clint follows me back to my desk and Im strutting like I’ve never strutted before. When we get to my desk I turn abruptly so he has to bump into me. He stumbles a bit of course not expecting me to turn so quickly. I pretend I’m going to fall and he grabs me around the waist. My God this man has strong hands. We are so close right now I can smell the mix of coffee and peppermints on his breath. I make sure to lean forward like I was really going to fall. My breasts are against his chest and I make absolutely no effort to move away. 
“I’m sorry. Excuse me. I can be clumsy sometimes,” my words come out in short pants. 
“Not a problem. Just glad I could catch you before you fell,” his voice rolls out so smooth like silk. I cant take this shit anymore and I fill the small gap that remained between us. “Look- um..what was it that you needed from me?” he asked the wrong damn question. I slid my hands around his and slowly rubbed my hands all the way up to his shoulders until my fingers laced behind his neck. I leaned in and gently tugged his face toward mine. Believe it or not, this asshole didn't budge. Instead, he removed my hands from his neck and placed them by my side. That. Shit. Turned. Me. On. This man rejecting me was the hottest thing I could remember. He didn't utter a single word. He just turned and walked back to the elevators. 
I love a challenge and Clint has done nothing except peak my interest even more. 
Chapter 2: Clinton
I cant believe this woman. If I have to see her fine ass one more time in a short skirt I’m going to bend her over that desk and give her what she wants. Damn... I hope this hard-on goes down before I get back to my office. 
I love my wife. I think my wife is the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. I worship her, but I’m a man. I have physical needs and sometimes a little variety is good for the diet. I’ve never stepped out on my wife and I dont plan on starting. Especially with some piece at my job. I’m on my way to becoming a partner, but not if I start acting up. Plus Don, my boss, has his eye on her. She is his assistant for a reason. I dont even know what she sees in me. Half the men in the building would give their right arm to have the opportunity I just passed up and the other half would give their left. I think back to the first time she spotted me. It was like a tigress eyeing her next kill after being starved for days. Had I been a single man I would’ve handled that right then and there. Then again, had I been a single man she would’ve spotted my empty ring finger and moved on to the next married man. 
Women like her are seriously twisted. They say men dont make emotional connections when having sex, but we do. We just know how to separate ourselves from it if need be. The idea of only sleeping with me to ridicule my wife and have something to hold over my head doesn't sit well with me at all. What’s between her legs has no value, especially when compared to the priceless love I have for my wife. Enough of that BS. I need to get my mind right. Lenore is probably waiting on me and she can always tell when something is up.
Lenore is my lead accountant. We work the advertising sector of the firm. It’s actually not a bad gig. Sometimes we even get invitations to some nice events. Last year we had dinner and drinks on the roof of the Hilton for their 85th anniversary celebration. I couldn't believe the turnout. Lenore wore a gorgeous blue backless dress. The light hit the sequins and the reflections danced in her eyes. I accompanied her with a clean black tux and my bow tie matched her dress perfectly. 
I can see her already in my office. Probably wondering why the other department heads have returned. I’ve already told Lenore all about Don’s assistant. Her advice was to stay as far away as possible. Good advice. I didn't try to run into her today. It was inevitable. Lenore was waiting in my chair. I can see her typing away madly on my Mac. She never wastes a moment. I know she is checking and responding to emails and probably organizing my calendar all at the same time. 
I chuckle at her creased brow and determination resting on her golden face. She is a simple woman. She hardly wears any makeup and her hair is usually tied up in a bun. Her hair is curly and natural. She looks up at me as if to say where the hell have you been?
“I was attacked by the demon that possesses Mikaela,” I answer her question before she even has the chance to ask. 
“I thought Don had decided to promote you a whole six months early. I was about to send out the email announcement and start packing up your office AND mine!” The smile on her face tells me she is only half joking. Ambition. 
“Not just yet... soon though. I was leaving and she tried the old I need to speak with you routine. I’m about to report her ass to HR,” I lied. 
“No you’re not. You probably stopped off at the bathroom to adjust Bill Clinton before coming to your office.” How the hell does she know me so well. I can only smirk in response. I head nod for her to move out of my seat as I reclaim my throne. Bill Clinton is what I call my dick. She really does know too much about me. What she doesn't know is my boy Roger calls her Monica. 
It’s almost time for me to make my daily call home to the wife to check on her and the kids and tell her how much I love them. Monica-eh I mean Lenore- knows this too. She tells me we have a meeting in twenty minutes with the staff and to not be too long with Raza. I agree and watch her close the door behind her as she exits, just slipping through the door like the wind. Her tall 5’11” frame glides down the hall. I can see her through the frosted glass that stands as the walls of my office. 
“Hello...? Clinton is that you?” a voice on the other end of the phone interrupts my daydream.