Wednesday, 15 February 2012

Whiz Bang Pop

Cupid's arrow can show up in the most unusual of places. This year it came in the form of homemade chicken fingers. I told Adam he might fall in love with me all over again after he saw, or more importantly, tasted what I made him for Valentine's Day. I think I was right:

Our post chicken finger walk in the rain

When you have no job or children to take care of, you too can spend all day preparing a meal completely from scratch and be a Domestic Goddess like me. I will say, as far as the domestic goddess stuff goes, that it does help that I like to cook. I also knew he would appreciate it, because it involves chicken, and he's good like that. One thing about Adam is that he is crazy for the bird. I'm pretty convinced he lived on chicken alone until he met me. He now lives on chicken and a few other things. So when I came across this particular recipe, a Valentine's Day gift was born:

The cast: Buttermilk Fried Chicken Tenders (soaked overnight in buttermilk and spices), Arugula Salad with Lemon Parmesan Dressing, Crash Hot Potatos, Whole Wheat Biscuits (my first attempt, will file under "good intentions"), and Oreo Truffles for dessert. Did I mention I made everything from scratch? I heard calories don't count on holidays. I am banking on this being true. I think the same goes for care packages:

Thanks to Adam's family I can fulfil my baking destiny while in New Zealand. Note the 72oz bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips. Watch out Betty Crocker there's a new game in town.

Speaking of games, we sure did play a lot at my first improv class on Monday. Whiz, Bang, Pop can best be described as an energy and movement exercise. Another was a name game of sorts where we stood in a circle and had to recall peoples names. The kicker being, if you messed up you had to scream at the top of your lungs and run to the other circle, jumping into their name game. I realize that for many of you a game like this is your worst nightmare, as is this class in general. And I get it.

Despite being blessed with copious amounts of confidence, allowing me to walk into a situation like this with ease, it can even make me uncomfortable. Mostly I don't understand why theater people have to be people-ish. There was a guy who couldn't just say his name during introductions he had to try to be funny. There was the girls who had to make it known that she had done improv before. Ok I get it, you were big in Beijing.

What was interesting, though, was why people were taking the class. One man said in broken English, that he wanted to learn to worry less about what people thought of him and be more in the moment. Another woman said she hoped to use improv with her kids as a parenting tool, and find the humor in her teenage sons. There were actors wanting to refresh their skills, old ladies looking for laughs, and people just trying to get away from their norms. To top it off, there was a woman there with a service dog, but as she explained it she wasn't impaired she was just taking care of the dog until it could loose some weight and actually be of service. She shared  how they were both on a diet and they weighed in together every week, but unfortunately the dog was making more progress then she was. Who wants a chicken finger? Anyone?

Well now you have a sense of what I'm dealing with. I will be sure to keep you posted on all things improv from here on out.

This weekend we are off to Napier/Hastings/Hawkes Bay where I will be taking my first domestic flight in NZ. Wine tasting and art deco festivities here we come!


  1. You're the best. That improv class is so lucky to have you, they don't even know! Rock on, Curious Katie.