Three and Dr P's tiny, crazy, almost-elopement/definitely NOT shotgun, super-auspicious Indian Wedding

If you read this blog you've probably heard by now that Dr. P and I were getting hitched. What you may or may not have heard is that the blessed event took place this past Saturday. The question on everyone's tongues seems to be "why the rush?" The truth is that we just wanted to be married, but like most simple truths, there's a longer version too. 

Two years ago, Dr. P told me that he thought we ought to get married the weekend before he would begin his residency. The conversation took place while I washed dishes and he dried. I laughed and said that would be just fine--before adding that technically there was another important question he should ask me before setting dates. The conversation was left there until about six weeks ago when Dr. P took me to a quiet dinner where he said some of the loveliest things I've ever heard and  finally got around to the technicality of asking me to be his wife (I mostly nodded and cried, which I think he understood to mean "yes"). We finished off with a double dose of dessert, and a long walk where he reminded me of my sink-side promise from two years back. 

We knew that with 6-weeks notice, the whole affaire would need to be simple and intimate--very intimate. In fact, my entire guest list (outside of blood relations) came to a grand total of 2. 

My best friend and my boss. 

There are plans in the mix to have a slightly larger celebration in the next year--and we hope our friends will all indulge us with their company then--but for now I'm focusing on the present. And for me the present is mostly filled with gratitude. For the amazing family I was born with, the new family I have gained, and of course, for my husband.

There are more photos to come, but I thought I'd share a couple from our traditional Hindu ceremony now♡

Confessions of a Recovering AB

When it came to blogging -- how do I say this nicely? -- I really wasn't a fan.  I felt they were self indulgent platforms for people with too much time on their hands. But after FIVE, I feel it my duty to tell you all of the wonderful things that have happened because of keeping a blog.

So... Here are the Top 5 confessions of a recovering Anti Blogger who now really likes to blog.

1. It's like journaling, but SO much better.  I distinctly remember the day I came into the laundry room and my mother was reading my journal.  And not just any journal, but the journal I wrote "I am in love with a different boy every ten minutes" in.  My stomach sunk.  My heart skipped a few beats.  Embarrassment doesn't approach the shame I felt.  But when I blog, I know I have an audience.  Even if it's just my sisters.  I self edit so when I go back and read my posts, it's less of "oh gosh... did I really think that way?" and more "wasn't that just wonderful?"

2. Because it's nice to spout off... I mean, share. What can I say?  I love having a forum to talk about art projects, wonderful recipes, politics, current events, Mr. Two, etc.  Humans have an innate need to share and I really enjoy sharing with you!

3. Because it gives me an excuse to take pictures.  Or more accurately, to ask others to take them for me.

4. Because it feels less creepy to blog-stalk than facebook stalk my sisters.

5. Because... well, because when we started out this blog, the ostensible reason was that we were drifting apart and that we wanted to be closer.  It was true.  It used to be that once a week or so, the five of us would head downstairs with a movie, treats, nail polish and soft rollers for a "girls party."   Between painted toes, Audrey Hepburn and Dad inevitably coming down to break up the party 10 minutes before the movie ended, we had enough fun that even at our most awkward, we never felt friendless.  But years and tears and miles and trials take their toll on relationships.   Having something to work on together is kind of like reintroducing a grown up version of our original girls parties.  It's an excuse to catch up, to check in and one day a week, to see something from the vantage point of the girls I love most.  So after my fair share of foot dragging, I will give credit where credit is due.  I think my sisters would agree that after a year of doing this blog thing together, we are as close as we have ever been and maybe closer.  I think we compete with each other less and appreciate each other more.  So my top confession is really a confession of gratitude: to you for reading, and to my sisters for doing this with me.  I look forward to doing it for many years to come!

I'm baaaaaaaack!

Hi people!

Sorry I dropped off the face of the earth. I've kind of had my hands full these last two months. 

With this:

I think it's been time well spent.

Keep Em' Coming

Thank you SO much to all of you who have been submitting videos for the I'm An Organ Donor campaign!  They are wonderful!  But we still need more!  So if you haven't done it yet, send us a video telling us why you're an organ donor.  You can also like the campaign on Facebook. We can't wait to hear your story!

Homemade Ricotta

Have you ever had milk or cream in your fridge that is just past the point where you feel comfortable putting it into your cereal?  Don't say "gross" yet because it makes the best ricotta cheese.  Mix a gallon milk with a quart of cream, a cup of yogurt with active cultures and about a fourth cup lemon juice.  Put in a pinch or two of salt and whisk.  Place it into a pot on medium heat, stirring every few minutes.  Once it comes to a boil, reduce to a simmer and leave until curds start to form.  For a finer ricotta, simmer for less time.  For bigger curds, simmer for longer.  Meanwhile, line a colander with ample cheesecloth and place it over a bowl.  Strain the ricotta over the bowl for 5 to 20  minutes, depending on how dry you want it.  Save the whey for soup broths or bread.  Ricotta should keep for a week or so.  It's great for desserts, pizza, pasta sauces or fruit and granola.  For a more exacting recipe, look here.  Melissa Clark knows knows her technique.  The one thing I would recommend is cooking the milk at a slightly higher heat before reducing it to a simmer.

While You Were Out

I've never been a particularly "bad" kid. . . or at least I don't think I have.

I have, however, been known to get into pickles when left unattended.  It doesn't matter that my mother will come home in half an hour to a graffitied living room sofa or that the Brita pitcher really doesn't work the same after having "filtered" 8 ounces of India ink, there's just something about the immediate impossibility of judgement that makes me do weird stuff. I suppose I forget that actions have consequences when no one is there to remind me.

Lately, I've been home alone often. Apparently nothing's changed.

I found this:

and did this:

I found this:

And did this:

and I found these:

and did this:

Today I found this:

. . . I haven't decided what to do with it yet.

Hello, Houston!

Last week I arrived in Houston for my summer internship with the emergency preparedness and epidemiology division of the department of health here. I never, ever thought I would type those words because I *never* thought I'd spend time in Texas.

ESPECIALLY summertime. 

But here I am! 

Fortunately, Astro Boy is also here and he has done a marvelous job convincing me that Texas does in fact have its charms. He even got me to take the picture below (it took some coercing, but there is photographic evidence!). 

After a particularly looong first week of work (just to get an idea, I worked from 8am to 10pm on Friday and went into work at 6:45am on Saturday...), Astro Boy planned a delightful adventure. 

We started at a massive produce village--which was amazing! It went on and on and on and on.

Then we went to a nifty vintage shop, a gourmet grocer, a deliciously hipster vegetarian joint, and--finally--a parking lot filled with giant, 18 foot tall busts of every. single. American. president. ever.

There were 42 of them. 

It was weird. 

But also kind of incredible.

And, all in all, a super smashing success.