How to Paint a Wall in 10 Steps

I've been itching for a bit of a change in my apartment, and painting a bright "California Poppy" red accent wall seemed like an adequate way to scratch it...until I get paid again and can blow my paycheck on reindeer pillows, more mistletoe than I'll (n)ever use, and a roast beef that I'd like to practice roasting.

So, friends, how to paint an accent wall...

1) Go to Home  Deport, Lowe's, or other paint store. Look at myriad swatch colors and pick a few. Get crazy. I knew I wanted red going into this, so I stuck with that spectrum. However, I was extremely tempted to drift over to the blue/green colors...Buy supplies and blue paint tape.

2) Go home and tape the little swatches up. Observe them in the daytime and nighttime. Is one red more orange? Rustier? Boo. Go with what makes you happiest (and complements your skin tone--in my case, more blue. Why does this matter? It doesn't). 

3) Go back to Home Depot and buy the color you wanted, and make sure you don't let the girl who looks even younger and more inexperienced with painting than you tell you that you only need a quart. This is a lie. You probably need at least a galloon...taking two trips to HD kind of sucks.

4) Think back to your days of Pictionary and 7th grade art class (why did we have to paint a golf course in water colors?) and realize you have no visual artistic talents whatsoever. Have mild panic attack and call knight in shining armor to make a Saturday morning painting date. In this case, knight = dad. He is taller and wise than I. And has a stepping stool and broom poles to attach little roll-y brush. 

5) Have coffee ready for you and knight. Maybe some carrots for the steed.  Also, tape off corners. 

6) Pup down drop cloths and paint first coat! Revel in your victorious feat...or first coat of half of a wall because the dumb girl at Home Depot told you a quart would be enough. And return all the stuff you bought (except paint) because of course, dad brought everything you'd ever need. 

7) Take a break and run errands, including going back to Home Depot AGAIN for full, glorious galloon of California Poppy.

8) Paint second coat, and be careful not to get your weird textured ceiling with brush. Whoops. Let dry for 1 hour. Use wet paper towel to get as much of paint off of ceiling as possible. Otherwise, let it go and figure out how to hang garland there later. 

9) Realize you'll need a third coat. $&^*!. Pour wine.

10) Pour more wine. Paint third coat. Scrub more paint off the floor than is on the walls. 

THE END!

Brussel Sprouts with Clementines and Pecans AND a Balsamic Reduction

I recently made some awesome Brussel sprouts, and I can't not share my recipe with the world. These babies accompanied a rosemary and garlic rubbed pork tenderloin (yes, it was amazing). Yum in my tum. AND they were right off of the stalk. If you've never seen a Brussel sprout stalk before (I hadn't until Trader Joe's, bless their souls), it sort of looks like a jingle bells stick. Except green, edible, and a lot heavier. I also happened to have tons of little clementines, and thought, "HEY why not brighten up some sprouts with these citrus delights and see what magic happens?"

The Art of Cooking - with TealTheRealDeal

THE PLAYERS

4 cups quartered sprouts (about half a stalk)
3 or so clementines, coarsely chopped, de-pitted, and (time for the pithy jokes...) piths removed
a handful or however many you want of pecans, toasted, please
1 1/4 cups balsamic vinegar
some olive oil
S&P

IN DA CLUB

Rinse the sprouts and plop them into a large pan, around medium heat, with about 2 tablespoons of olive oil. Let those puppies get nice and tan. Add a little salt and pepper just to get crazy...and because either Alton Brown or Lynne Rosetto Kasper said salt brings out the flavors of the veg.

After they've bronzed up a bit (or as much as you want them to), invite the clementines and pecans to the sprouts party. Encourage them to mingle and dance it out. Turn off the heat.

As the sprouts are cooking, reduce the balsamic vinegar (boil until it becomes syrupy) in a small saucepan. This may take a little longer than you'd expect. I added a little pinch of sugar, just for kicks. Not sure if it actually did anything to help the process, though.

After the balsamic has reduced to liquid gold, pour it over the sprouts, clementines, and pecans. Everyone knows liquid goodness makes any party that much better.

ENJOY.

Dream Job = Godiva Taste Tester

I love all things chocolate, and I love dreams. Jobs are cool, too. Put 'em together and what do you get? Bippity boppity chocolate. Dream job = Godiva chocolate taste tester. Except white chocolate, which is just unnatural.

I signed up for the Godiva member rewards a few months ago ONLY because of the a) free membership, and b) free chocolate once a month. As I strolled into the Godiva store today, Auntie Anne pretzel in hand, I expected to receive a microscopic smidge of a chocolate sample.

Nay.

I was allowed to choose from ANY truffle (except for the liquor-infused ones) or some other option that wasn't that impressive. No choco-covered strawberries or peanut butter cups, but HOLY SMOKES! I chose the Butterscotch Walnut Brownie Cake Truffle.

Butterscotch caramel flanked some sort of walnutty maple-y cream nucleus with a milk chocolate shell. It was delicious, and that's really all I have to say...except...

GO JOIN GODIVA REWARDS.

The Trouble with Coffee

I would not, by any means, call myself a coffee fanatic. I didn't drink it in college to help me stay up late to write term papers--I was usually "that girl" who handed it in a week before the due date. I'm a Type A anti-procrastinator, and I like it that way, thank you very much.

I'm also not at all a coffee addict. Some people inject the stuff into their veins to wake up before 9am, but I won't bite your head off if you try to talk to me before my cuppa Joe. If I haven't eaten a solid breakfast...that's another story.

I only started drinking coffee semi-regularly this past summer. Having to be at work by 7:45am was rough, and I started small, with only half a mug or so from the break room coffee pot. One day I made the mistake of drinking two cups of jet fuel after only a few weeks of building my tolerance, and that was a hot mess. I've had a few weird experiences with inadvertent caffeine overload (someone once slipped me two green tea teabags before a choir rehearsal - woof), and they're never pretty.

I love the smell of coffee though, and I don't even mind the taste so much. I actually prefer my coffee black (like my men? Airplane? Anyone?), but I can be persuaded to enjoy it with some Kahlua or Baileys. Otherwise, Trader Joe's has a great spiced pumpkin blend. I bought it a while ago, intending to make it myself with a hand-me-down coffee pot my parents gave me.

Now, I've never made coffee in a home coffee maker. I've made it with the industrial sized gallon bins at restaurants, where you open the packet, pour it in the filter, and click a button. When I was living at home, elves made it early in the morning before the sun even came up. But I always heard them grinding the beans, and suspected they poured water over the ground beans, which I assumed then magically heated up and turned the water into coffee. Which is the same path I followed when I tried to make my own java for the first time a few weeks ago.

I put the filter in, scooped out about 4 tablespoons (2 for every 6oz), and then poured water on top of the grounds. Because, why not? Isn't that how you make coffee? No, apparently it isn't. The ghost of coffee that could've been tasted and looked like pumpkin spiced tea. I didn't understand...where did I go wrong? It was barely even warm.

I tried the next day with SIX tablespoons, poured the water on top of the grounds, clicked on, and waited. No percolating sounds, nothing. Garbage! So I gave up on drinking coffee for a little, and then buckled and bought a new coffee pot. Because clearly that dinky hand-me-down was broken.

It wasn't.

I only learned TODAY that I actually should've poured the water BEHIND the filter. Seriously? How did I not figure that out? I am 23 1/2 years old, and I only just learned how to make coffee. It started with an innocent chat with my boss about my coffee-making problems, and then my world turned upside down. So I ran home, pulled out the old coffee maker I was about to chuck, and scooped out my 2 tablespoons for a little mug of the good stuff. Then I measured out 6oz, poured it BEHIND the filter, and voila! It's time for the percolator. And delicious hot coffee.

Thumbs up for penguins who drink coffee!

Not a Lifetime made-for-TV-movie

After 3 weeks of traveling solo, I haven't turned into a 20/20 special...that I know of. Three cheers for me!

I met some really great people, I was 80% sure for a while that I had shin splints from walking so much without proper footwear, and also couldn't tell if I gained a million pounds or I lost lbs. I'm pretty certain my clothes just happened to stretch out like whoa, considering I didn't wash them for three weeks (get over it). But upon my return, it looks like so far, my trousers still fit. 

My last few days in Scotland were pretty relaxed. I took a rainy bus tour of the Highlands and boated around Loch Ness. I even snapped a photo of the monster herself! 

I met some nice German girls on the bus, and we went to the White Hart Inn in Edinburgh for some pints after the bus tour. Twelve hours on a bus isn't exactly my fave, especially since it was raining and my "rain" jacket lied about being water repellent. I was soaked. Anyway, Anja, Caroline and I were soon joined by some nice Canadians and even more whisky. These lovely Canadians later led me to my doom the next evening when we embarked on a nine-pub pub crawl. It was awesome. They also convinced me to stay an extra night to see the Hibernian soccer team play Inverness, and I obliged. It caused me to miss Windsor, sadly, but I'll be back I'm quite sure. 

Cold and wet. 

Those Canadians know how to party.

Yes, my last few days were spent in Edinburgh, which I was happy to see, but towards the end of the trip in general I was quite tired of living out of a suitcase, showering with flip flops, and trying to sleep while the hulking beast in the corner snored like a maniac. I learned that I don't particularly LOVE traveling alone for such extended periods of time, but I'm certainly capable of and good at doing it. It was nice to sleep in for as long as I wanted to, stop and eat some cheese whenever and not be judged, decide *not* to climb the 233 stairs to whatever dome, etc etc. But I also missed having a companion who can laugh with me later at the silly situations we encountered or that one really weird dude in the pub. But alas! 

Next stop....?

Captain's Log

 Sunday 

19:00 arrived after hectic train ride to Scotland--power outage made my trip 3 hours longer. It's all good.
19:20 Checked into very cool and monstrously big Hostel.
19:45 Had haggis and cask ale at Dirty Dicks--a nifty and eccentric pub in New Town.
20:00 Was befriended by an Australian also traveling solo, and he sat with me...then I didn't feel weird avoiding eye contact with other people while I ate.
21:00 After dinner, went on a non-scary ghost tour. Pints after.
23:00 Bed.

Monday 

9:30 Feet dying, bought cheap £6 sneakers-bright mustard yellow.
11:00 Free walking tour of Edinburgh with awesome Irish guide. How did he talk so fast?  And why wasn't he Irish?
14:30 Lunch of highlander chicken and ale. Yum
16:00 Visited grave yard where JK Rowling was inspired for characters' names. Inner geek in me wept softly

16:30 Scotch Whisky Experience with Aussie friend--GOLD TICKET AKA 5 TASTINGS, BABY. Yum yum in my tum.
19:30 Dinner of Tapas-Scottish cheese and smoked salmon, then mussels and wine for dinner.
20:00 Bed. Passed out cold

Tuesday 

10:00 Scone for a snack to fuel my adventure up a mountain

10:25 Hiked Arthur's Seat, an extinct volcano. Wish I brought proper running shoes. or hiking boots. 

13:00 Lunch. taking it easy with mushroom soup and tea. It was windy on that volcano, and let's be honest, I'm not as young as I once was.
13:45 shopped around to compare prices for souvenirs. Really want tartan hat with pom pom. might be called a tammy?
14:30 writers museum. A little boring.
15:15 camera obscura museum. So cool and interactive! Wouldve been cooler/I'd have felt less lame with a friend.
17:00 walked home and caught last song from cool bagpipe/drum/elec guitar trio. Note to self: track them down.
17:30 read Sherlock Holmes, contemplated going out.
18:00 refused to move from couch.  Black out.
21:00 Skype with parentals
23:00 pass out after obligatory social interactions with hostel mates. So tired. 

Wednesday 

10:30 Journeyed to Edinburg castle. Pretty groovy. Why does this city have so many darn hills?
13:00 Lunch and pints
14:00 Meandered. Contemplated trying Iron Blu, an insane soft drink that's popular here and banned in the U.S. for too much sugar and some liver antibiotic moonlighting as an ingredient. What? Insanity.  15:00 Walked inside elephant cafe where JK Rowling scribbled The first bits of Harry potter. line too long, walked out. Is my inner fan girl dying?
15:20 National Gallery of Scotland. Does it make me a child if I prefer the interactive exhibits designed for children?
16:00 Bought cheese. Walked to "The Meadows."
17:00 Found bagpipe trio from yesterday. Wait and update blog while they get ready.
18:00 Awesome set by spinning blowfish trio. Totes bought their CD.
19:00 Fought frozen pasta dish and a tin of beans to add protein. Ate a few bites, meh.
21:30 After catching up on Buzzfeed, sought trad music close to hostel.
22:00 Finally found it. not sure if 6.8% cask beverage or guitar/accordian duet made me extra happy.
23:00 bed.

Quick update

I may have forgotten to mention I visited Cambridge and Ely before Oxford and had the good fortune and pleasure to stay with a friend who lives outside of Cambridge. Yay for friends and their gracious hospitality!!

After Oxford, it was on to Bath where I did a bulk of my souvenir shopping and quite a bit of cheese-eating.

I loved Bath and made some nice friends there, and we did a very fun and silly walking tour called "Bizarre Bath." It was basically a brilliant stand up comedy tour. Amazing and I haven't laughed that hard in a while. I also love the street performers...fire juggling unicyclists, opera singers, drum circles, floating men, etc. So much fun! I even met a charming retired couple dressed up in old fashioned garb for the Jane Austen festival. We sat on a bench and chatted as people took our picture, and they invited me to Windsor and offered to show me around. Uh, yes please! Such dears.  Oh and the roman baths were amazing and I got to taste the water! ...it was weird and strongly reminded me of blood.

Then I journeyed to Edinburgh via London and a hectic mechanical failure in Carlisle. Needless to say, it was annoying and a trip that should've taken 6 hrs took 9. Boooof.  But I had haggis and a few pints last night complete with ghost tour so all is well. Yeahhhhhh girrrl

Lost in translation

While I enjoy traveling and find myself to be excellent company, I can only have so many conversations with myself. So, I've been getting a little bit bored of my own company. Of course I talk to people and have met fellow lone wolves, but it's a transient business. And they don't always get my humor right away...like my Californian friend whom I met in London.

We were talking about rent prices, and he mentioned he recently moved within the city. I casually, and with a very deadpan expression, replied,  "Oh, did you move to Alcatraz?" The poor dear looked so puzzled and had no idea how to react until I did an awkward Teal shrug and said, "dude...I was kidding." Gems. 

See? I knew he'd get it in the end.

Staircase seen in Harry Potter, holla.

 Then, last night in Oxford, a similar occurrence went down. I embarked on a ghost tour with an Oxford grad, and he started the tour with a description of the horrid conditions outside of the college walls where dead bodies were tossed, sewage floated, trash was thrown out, etc. I (brilliantly) inquired, "And their theses, too?" to which he replied, "Uh...yeah all kinds of rotten things." I figured he misunderstood me (feces/theses), and tried again. After he got it, he seemed very impressed by my "complex pun."  The rest of that evening was a dream come true. The guide, his boss, and I ended up getting a drink at a hidden away pub that only locals seem to know about. Logarithms, grammar, history, and politics were just a few topics we covered over pints. It was everything I wanted and nothing I didn't.

Cheesetastic

After my few very long days playing the ultimate Tourist (but non-fannypack-toting one), I decided to sleep in. I ate breakfast at the hostel, and soon after walked through Borough Market. As I've mentioned in other posts, I love love love markets, and thought I'd explore the francy one a mere few blocks from my hostel. It was fantastic! Mushrooms on display, still growing out of a tree trunk. Strange fruit and veg I had never even heard of. Stalls of beautiful cakes, still warm bread, fudge, candies, jams.

And CHEESE. I am a total cheese fanatic and naturally bought the £5 cheese plate for second breakfast-a delicious goat, a fabulously stinky and ripe Brie look alike (def not Brie) and a silky bleu. I found a table and contained my excitement as best as I could, but man was I excited. I don't pretend to know much about cheese or the proper terminology (hint Xmas present idea), but the extra stinky one seemed particularly acidic or...I don't know, dry. Like a tannic wine. Very interesting. The blue was unexpectedly mild, and The goat was just lovely.

 Later that evening after seeing Richard III at the Globe, some new hostel friends and I enjoyed a wine-soaked 4th meal on the Thames with more cheese and bread. So. Much. More. Cheese. The next day, I must admit after a breakfast of egg's Benedict, another cheese plate on a pub menu caught my eye, and obviously lunch was 3 beautiful hunks of English cheese. I don't think I left a crumb behind, and if I don't gain 15 lbs before I come home, it'll be a miracle. Perhaps it's the spike in dairy and warm Old Speckled Hen ale, but I seriously need some fruit and veg...and grapes and celery on the cheeseboard don't count.

Londontown

As some of you may know, I'm currently in London, taking a little vacation throughout the UK. I have the opportunity to travel around a bit before I start my new job. I'm also typing this on my iPhone, as the computers at my hostel are quite slow...so I apologize for any typos/weird grammar.

 After arriving in London on Wednesday, I hit he ground running. I dropped off my bags at my AWESOME hostel, and walked over to the Tower of London. I've always wanted to go, and it wasn't at all what I thought it would be. I expected prisoners and torture-y jails (it did have these things), but it was mostly for living! Very fascinating stuff, and my yeoman warden was excellent and so funny. If you aren't familiar with them (I wasn't), they're the "beefeaters," though they don't take too kindly to that word. It's an honor to be a warden and live in the tower after years of service in the military. I especially liked seeing their laundry drying as stood I various buildings in the fortress.

Then it was on to St Paul's Cathedral for evensong. I'm not much of a stair climber (my purse is way to heavy and I'm not agile enough for those spiral stairs), and I only wanted to see the inside. I can wiki the history later. The service was lovely, at least the parts I was awake for. Jet lag hit me pretty hard, and I almost fell off of a kneeler. Whoops.

 The next day, I planned my entire day out over eggs and bacon on toast, then promptly forgot them when I walked past the ferry pier. I decided to head over to Greenwich to see the Observatory and Meridian, college and painted hall. It was a great afternoon, and I smiled so hard when I unknowingly walked through the music college's courtyard. This sounds so cheesy, but it was such sweet music to my ears to hear musicians practicing. Ahhh :) The observatory was fantastic and I loved the planetarium...and yes, I did choke up when it played clips of us landing on Mars. I'm always amazed when I am reminded of what talent and brilliance there is in the world, and how much we don't know about life. Ok back to my pint now...

After that was a lovely lunch where the bartendress asked me if I wanted a half pint with lunch. Do I *look* like the kind of lady who only wants halfsies? No. After the ferry back, I went to the Churchill War Rooms, one of the highlights of my trip so far. They were absolutely fascinating and left entirely as they were during the war. The Churchill Museum was wonderfully presented and a fun interactive learning experience. My only wish is that I had had more than 2 hours. I'm the museum-goer who reads every little plaque. Thanks for that, dad ;)

Then if you can believe it, I headed to both the National Gallery (for the impressionists) and the Portrait Gallery. The Portrait Gallery had an excellent exhibit on Olympians and also the gallery's BP-sponsored contest. Yesterday I ended up walking for hours to get to Buckingham Palace, only to find tickets sold out. Wish I had known you have to buy them in advance...so I walked through Hyde Park to get to the V&A, where there was a gorgeous exhibit on British ball gowns and fashion. I felt so at home!

I must admit though, I did hit a brick wall. I have resolved to not try to see everything in the world of London, and I suspect I'll be a less exhausted Teal because of it. Phew!

Do I look like a peasant, too?

I've always thought, deep down, that I'd make an excellent spy. I have a knack for attracting interesting international characters, and last night was no different. After an exhausting but amazing day of sight-seeing, I sat down at a bar to have a glass of wine and order some dinner (delicious warm feta with eggplant, green beans, tomato, kalamata olive, etc). A foreign gentleman came up to the bar to pay, and started chatting me up...for the next two hours. He spoke of the finest restaurants he frequents, staying at the Four Season in NYC, and his lovely Tom Ford suit. Oh and his Australian mistress. He showed me his Harrods card (I asked when he'd take me shopping--soon), and he talked about his love of Irish people--because they look like peasants. After his exuberant verbal display of affection for MY Irish complexion ("It is in your eyes!"), I asked him if I looked like a peasant. He said I did not, which made my day. He continued to rave about how wonderfully independent, irresistable (French accent style), charming and lovely I am. "You only have one boyfriend? You should have four! If I were a younger man, I'd want you to have all my sons." No boyfriend actually, but I had to keep him at bay. And hey, work it, free dinner! Sir also insisted that I Google him on my phone to confirm that he was who he said, and it turns out he actually is kind of a huge big deal. Eventually we parted ways, with promises to send me bottles of wine from his family's vineyard.

My food fantasies

Some people fantasize about marrying Ryan Reynolds, some dream of the beach, and yet others desire the hedonistic tendencies of food and drink. I'm not sure if it's my lack of job prospects, nostalgia for my wild college days, or legitimate food cravings, but I have a hankering to get myself up to State College for a foodie/booze tour.

So, here is what I dream about, from breakfast to 4th meal.

For breakfast, it's off to the Waffle Shop for the dirt cheap eggs, bacon, toast and hash brown special. What can I say, I'm a purest, and I'm going to need to set my metabolism straight for this foodventure.

Snacktime is chocolate covered bacon chocolate cheesecake at Herwig's. Oh and a beer at Pickle's. Because in this fantasy of mine, the weather is beautiful, I have a bottomless pit for a stomach, a tolerance for alcohol that would rival any Irish stockyard worker, and stretchy pants.

For lunch, it's Mad Mex on the patio. One original Big Azz margarita, please and thank you very much. I'd bask in the sunshine and nibble on a shrimp, portobello, and spinach quesadilla with my marg and enjoy good company. Let's be honest...no bar is allll that fun by yourself.

Then I'd walk off the effects of the margarita/cheesy shrimp goodness and head to the Creamery, where I would request a child-size peanut butter ripple cone--those cones are just way too big to eat the whole thing in its entirety--and walk through campus talking to and feeding the squirrels.

Tea-time would be at The Corner Room for grilled stickies a la mode, covered in wet walnuts--that's a special thang I do. (I would say Allen St. Grill for the coconut cream pie, but I've already devoted an entire post to that.)

After that, the obvious dinner choice is Herwig's for the Tagesmenu. The most delicious homemade mushroom soup (mushroom theme?), homemade buttermilk ranch dressed salad and pork/potato hash, AND pastry dessert made with fruit from the owner's own fruit trees?! Oh, and did I mention it's BYOB, open air, and they chuck things and yell at you in German if you don't finish your food? Heaven. And three words for the road: chocolate. covered. bacon.

After that, it's next door for HAPPY HORAAAAA at Cafe. Grabbing an outside table in the front to people watch, long island tea in each hand, is the way to do it. And let's not forget those skillet fries. Seriously, crack on a skillet. I honestly can't say anything else about them, except that I had them once sans the 5 long island teas, and it just wasn't the same.

As for fourth meal, I only have two words: Canyon. Pizza. (ranch optional)