PAX Drama for the Mama

If you've been hiding under a rock, you may not have known that Mr. Dude is just slightly excited about PAX Prime.

And that he's had me on "PAX Alert" ever since PAX East 2014 ended about a decade ago.

Or maybe it just seems that long.

Tickets sell faster than lightning strikes, so he had me turn on notifications for @Official_PAX on Twitter. And he always made sure that at least one of my thousand open browser tabs was the registration site. And he was diligent in letting me know when his meetings at work would start and end so I'd know when I could talk to the love of my life during the day so I knew when I was responsible for dashing to the computer in a frenzy in case ticket sales went live.

It got to be rather ridiculous, actually.

And then there was that one morning nap time [for Little Guy, not me - unfortunattely] where a Twitter notification came through and Mr. Dude called all at the same time.

It. Was. Go Time.

Good thing the browser tab was already set to the all-important prime.paxsite.com/registration [I may or may not have just typed that out from memory. I think I'll plead the Fifth on that one.] so I could just click on the "Badge Sales" button without thinking too much.

Do you remember when you were a small child how tempting something became simply because it was forbidden?

You didn't actually want the cookie until mom said you couldn't have it. And you never really cared about your sister's doll until your dad said you couldn't take it. And you had never even thought that the movie would be cool to watch until your mom said you weren't allowed to go see it with your friends.

That's what PAX did to me and my "refresh" button.

Seriously?!?! NO refreshing the page? The page will redirect automatically and I just have to be patient?!?! 

But ... but ... but ... 

Somehow, I knew that if I followed directions, I'd be okay. But it certainly didn't feel like it. 

The tech gurus who ran the PAX website would know better than to tell a bunch of geeks that the page would automatically redirect if the page wasn't going to automatically redirect, wouldn't they? I mean, talk about the most embarrassing tech snafu you could imagine, right? Screwing up registration for a nerd convention? 

It still took everything I had in me to not hit that refresh button, though. 

I think I just didn't trust the nerds enough. 

Meanwhile, my adrenaline system was on high alert, shaking hands, shallow breathing, accelerated heart rate and all. 

Must. Get. Tickets. Must. Get. Tickets. MUST. GET. TICKETS. 

Mr. Dude got into the queue just before I did and managed to snag two each of the four single day passes. 

Success! Breathe! Relax! 

Wait. No four-day passes? 

Nope. They all sold out. In FIFTY SECONDS. 

[Can we just pause right here? ... What kind of crazy world do we live in where there are so many nerds desperate to get to a conference that they stalk a site so that over 80k tickets are gone within just a few hours? Not all of these people are the stereotypical kids-posing-as-adults living in mom's basement and playing WoW all day. Lots of them actually have families, really good jobs and friends. But I digress.]

So, if you want to know where Mr. Dude will be for all of Labor Day weekend, you've got your answer. If you actually want to see him that weekend, then you'd better have scored some PAX Prime tickets. If you're lucky, you'll be there the day that Mr. Dude, Little Guy and I all show up in our cosplay. More on that to come. 

Meanwhile, I think I need to go make myself a nice cup of tea to calm down again after reliving that harrowing experience. I'm getting too old for all these adrenaline highs. 

On The Surface

The Microsoft Surface, that is.

Yesterday was a two-fer day for blog posts.

I kinda felt bad about leaving you in the dark on all the funny things that happened over the last week, so you got an extra one. Part of my radio silence was from giving our poor sick Little Guy lots of extra attention.

And part of it was because of conversations like this:

Yes, I know how to tell when my display driver crashed. I know what a display driver is. And I know how to update them.

I also know that if my GPU is becoming akin to burnt toast, then I have to replace the entire laptop sooner rather than later [the one upside of a desktop, in my opinion - your GPU isn't soldered onto the motherboard ... wait, did I really just type those words?!].

I'm also too lazy to do my own computer maintenance sometimes.

Besides, why deprive Mr. Dude of some time to tinker around, à la car mechanic?

So in the meantime, I'm dealing with a slightly cantankerous machine that thinks it's getting too old for the likes of 30 internet browser tabs being open at once, despite the fact that this multi-tasking mama needs it to keep chugging along.

And then Mr. Dude brought home a Microsoft Surface that a friend had let him borrow.

I think my little HP notebook could tell that I was oohing and aahing over another machine, and it must have gotten jealous because it is running ... as ... slowly ... as ... molasses ... in ... January ... today.

Maybe it just needs another cup of coffee?

Nope, that'd be this mama who needs another cup of coffee.

This machine is gonna get Windows 7 reinstalled and all the drivers updated by my personal Geek Squad this weekend. And then we can all celebrate its restoration to good health.

Oh, the joys of owning PCs and being married to a PC tech., no?

Awkward Family Photos and Verbal Analogies, SAT-Style

[We interrupt this broadcast to bring you this important bulletin: Today is "Family Harmonica Day".]

The Awkward Family Photo calendar said so.

"Why on earth", you ask, "do you have an Awkward Family Photo calendar?!?!"

Good question.

Have you ever heard of "photo-bombing"? Usually, it's a practice where someone jumps into another's scene while a photo is being taken, without the primary subjects noticing. Benedict Cumberbatch and squirrels alike have been known to take up the hobby.

At our house, it's what happens when you ask friends to babysit whilst you attend a wedding, and they see fit to grace our walls with said calendar's presence, without you noticing until after they had left for the night. In this case, the calendar literally "photo-bombed" our wall.

Fortunately, it's turned out to be quite the useful calendar with so many helpful holidays written in. Today is "Family Harmonica Day", and "Dress Like a Hobbit" comes later this month. And then there are other important occasions such as "Polyester Jumpsuit Day" and "Family Sweater Day". If you haven't gotten your harmonica on yet, though, you'll want to hurry. The day is almost done!

Know how Mr. Dude and I are celebrating this year's "Family Harmonica Day"? We're sitting side by side working on our respective computers while Little Guy sleeps. Ah, the life of a nerd and his wife. He's doing PowerShell scripting for work and I just finished up a freelance gig wherein I kinda-sorta-not-really played the part of a web developer.

Actually I was migrating content from one website to another, which really just means I was a glorified copy-and-paste wizard. But a wizard nonetheless, mind you. I'm working on getting my staff and a horse as cool as Shadowfax.

[#LOTRreferenceFTW]

What's that you say? You're surprised that I dove into the world of web development?

Me, too. Sometimes these things just land in my lap and I take them - always good to learn new skills and earn a bit of extra cash, right?

Mr. Dude, however, was more focused on the fact that I was uploading content into a WordPress site.

Mr. Dude: "That's not web development, Stephanie!"
Me: "Well, you're just doing PowerShell. That's not really programming."
Mr. Dude: "Yes it is!"
Me: "Then working with WordPress sites is web development. So there."

Very sophisticated arguing, I tell you. But a valid point, unless of course you agree that

HTML : WordPress :: C++ : PowerShell

If that's true, then WordPress really is nothing like "true" web development, whatever that means. I'm still accepting the title of "Copy and Paste Wizard", though.  

Happy "Family Harmonica Day"! 

[GASP!!!]

[The title is an onomatopoeic reference to me gasping for air after drowning in the ocean that is buying a home and moving into it ... all with one very wiggly and mobile Little Guy and a Mr. Dude who is working overtime right now.]

That's right, people. We bought a house. And Mr. Dude officially has a "man cave" that is his to do with as he pleases. 

[Can you say "ridiculously happy geek"?] 

Aside from putting our laundry machines downstairs eventually to accommodate a larger dining room, Mr. Dude has a sizable space to use with plans for a full bar, a media area [with surround sound for him ... and sound-proofed floors for his wife's ears], his computer desk and an extra table for working on tech projects. 

That extra table is important, people. 

Because there are stories from his past that still haunt him. 

Stories of using a soldering gun to repair a laptop. 

Indoors. 

On his mother's dining room table. 

With a tablecloth. 

That now has a small hole burned into it. 

So he's banned from doing said tech projects in such places. And thus we're getting him his own tech work bench/table/space. 

But I digress. 

For Christmas, I promise I actually did get him a tech-related present, despite me listing a few things I vehemently declared I would not get for him. 

Yes, that is a Companion Cube Ice Cube Tray. And warning sign coasters. Because a geek's bar needs to be tricked out with appropriately geeky stuff, right? 

The full bar is going to be Tron-themed, complete with blue and orange neon mixed in with acrylic. 

[Mr. Dude really likes acrylic.] 

I figured that Portal 2 was the same colors and cool enough that he'd be okay with something of a mash-up for his theme. 

The wife guessed right. Booyah!

And as a bonus, I got Geek Points from ThinkGeek AND my husband. Double booyah! 

Also on the list of "you-know-I-love-my-husband-a-LOT-when-I-buy-him-ridiculous-stuff-like-this": 

[Exhibit A: Valentine's Day gift - Mario Mushroom Tap Lights. That I found in a consignment shop. For $3 each.] Before you think I'm a cheap-o gift-giver, I also told him I'd play one of the Mario games with him for an evening. If you believe this infographic about how much a stay-at-home-mom's time would be worth in the "outside world", then my time is worth about $20/hour, give or take. Assume that an evening of video games is about 4 hours [because that's all I think I can handle before I go cross-eyed and want to pull all my hair out], then the gift is at least $80. There, now you can't think I'm a cheapo. And Mr. Dude is ridiculously excited for me to voluntarily play video games with him. Yes, I love him that much.

[Exhibit B: Command Gold Onesie, 24 months. That I found at the same consignment store. Also for just $3.] Yes, that's Little Guy's size. But when I called Mr. Dude to tell him I found him a present, and he saw it when he came home from work, he definitely agreed that it was a gift for him. Because what nerd wouldn't want their son to proudly sport Kirk's uniform? As long as our son doesn't end up doing commercials for an online travel company, we're okay ...

[Bonus Items: Classic Children's Books] Because there are some titles that you buy immediately when you see them in such good condition at the consignment shop. So while Mr. Dude is trying to convince Little Guy to be a computer nerd, I'm going to be instilling a love of books into him. Hurray for a growing library!

In the meantime, my apologies for leaving you all hanging for so long. I know you were just dying to hear about all the funny things Mr. Dude has been up to in all of his geekery these past couple of months. Or maybe you were just living life as usual. Or perhaps you were too busy playing Age of Empires with Mr. Dude to realize I hadn't been writing about his antics? 

Reasons for Pursuit

Mr. Dude is what you might call "persistent".

Before we started dating in college, the story goes [no matter what he may tell you], he pursued stalked me.

You heard me.

He'd somehow manage to show up wherever I was, whether he was invited or not.

If our paths crossed on campus and I told him I couldn't talk because I was on my way to class, he took it upon himself to walk with me, even if that made him late to his own class.

If I told him I needed to end our phone conversation because I was going running [and let's be honest - sometimes the running was just an excuse to end said phone conversation], he said he'd see me in five minutes and come running with me.

Say what?!

Not sure about you, but I didn't hear an invitation - or even the hint of one - in my statement.

I happen to mention that I'm so happy to finally be free on a Saturday so I can get some stuff done ... and he somehow convinces me to go bowling with a "bunch of friends " ... who end up being two other couples ... and us.

Uh, I'm pretty sure that made it a "triple date". And I'm pretty sure that's not what I had agreed to.

You get the idea.

Since we've been dating and now married [for a grand total of seven and a half years!!!], Mr. Dude's one. constant. request. has been for me to play video games with him. Any of them. Arcade games. First person shooter. Tower defense games. Heck, he's even tried to get me into Minecraft lately.

I knew it was getting desperate when he had a game day with a friend who works at XBox, and they played through Gears of War 3. I asked him how the day was, and all he could say was, "Stephanie, won't you please play through the Gears of War series with me?"

Uh, no. Remember this picture?

Yup. Still applies. Even after seven and a half years of you asking.

The Facebook feed today has since enlightened me on why Mr. Dude wants me to play, courtesy of a former high school friend who now works at a video game developer company in the area and shared this photo:

Source: 9GAG

Did I mention that Mr. Dude and his friend couldn't beat the last boss in Gears 3 while playing insane mode after playing the game all day? He told me later that they made something like 50 attempts, but to no avail.

He could try telling me that he wants me to play with him because I'm the most important person in his life

Or he's really desperate for help in beating that last boss.

Seriously, Mr. Dude. That's why there's this thing called "YouTube". I guess you'll just have to think of another reason for me to start playing video games. :]

Virtual Flowers

Poor Mr. Dude.

He married a gal with very particular - and seasonal - tastes.

So many gals would list roses as their favorite flowers, which is great since they're available year-round in most places. [We won't mention how expensive they are - that's beside the point.]

And then there's me - my favorites are quite inexpensive ... as long as they're in season.

Daffodils.

You know, the bulbs that bloom like crazy. For a month. And then they're gone.

So, for about a month straight, our home is filled to the brim with their yellow and white cheeriness as Mr. Dude stops by the store almost every day to bring me more.

It's cute, really, to see him come home with a big grin on his face since he knows I'll be so excited to fill yet another vase with one of the first signs of spring and the upcoming sunny weather.

Here in the dark and gloomy Pacific Northwest, that's a big deal!

But right now we've almost made it to the darkest day of the year, the holiday craziness is upon us, and Mr. Dude and I are in a particularly busy season with his work and our family life [uh, hence the lack of posts lately]. And there are no daffodils to be found to help cheer up the days.

Or so I thought.

I stopped by Mr. Dude's computer where he was getting some work done to ask him a question, and he quickly pulled up a picture that I just had to see:

[Source: Screenshot from the game]

He had been playing one of his newest favorite games earlier [Fallout: New Vegas, if anyone is keeping score ... and Mr. Dude would like me to remember that it runs on the same engine as another favorite - Elder Scrolls V: Oblivion ... which are both published by the same company] and noticed some daffodils hidden in a corner. 

One gaming screenshot saved in his Steam profile later, and his wife got daffodils in December. 

She also got proof that he thinks of her even when he's playing video games. 

Now isn't that just sweet? 

Mommy Brain > Math Fail

Mr. Dude and I often debate about lots of things, particularly Washington vs. California, since those are our respective birth places. Maybe "mock each other about our respective birth places" is more accurate.

Don't worry - it doesn't mean our marriage is on the rocks. We've been doing that ever since we were "just friends" and arguing about everything. [By the way, being able to argue about anything and still be friends and on the same team afterwards is a highly valuable skill in marriage.]

One topic in particular: schooling.

God bless the man, but he went to school in Washington, the land of the rednecks. And I like to remind him of it. Often. Also, it helps that his undergraduate degree was a B.S. and his master's was an M.S. [ie, "More of the Same"], so I've got lots of material to banter about with him.

But I should probably start learning to hold my tongue, since "Mommy Brain" is affecting me more than I'd like to admit.

Why?

Because now apparently I can't do simple math.

Never mind the fact that I've taken calculus and I'm the daughter of a high school math teacher.

Parenthood Equation: "Mommy Brain" > Stephanie's Mathematical Knowledge

Little Guy turned 8 months old on the 6th [we've kept a human alive for eight whole months ... woohoo!] and I made a passing comment about his age while we were playing on the floor.

Me: Little Guy, you turned 8 months yesterday. That means we're 75% of the way to your first birthday!
Mr. Dude: You mean 9 months, Stephanie.
Me: No, he's 8 months now.
Mr. Dude: I know. Nine months would be 75%; he's only two thirds of the way to his first birthday.
Me: What are you talking about? Eight over twelve is 75%, Dude!
Mr. Dude: Stephanie, nine over twelve is three quarters.
Me: [insert awkward silence] Oh ... you're right. Drats!
Mr. Dude: So about that Washington schooling, eh Stephanie? Man, I've been waiting for his day for a looong time!
Me: Can I have some more coffee now? Apparently I really need it. 

This is where I insert foot in mouth and start wondering if I should be worried about "Mommy Brain" affecting anything else important. You know, like speaking and writing and thinking in general.

Scott Pilgrim vs. Stephanie ... and Spaceteam won.

Friends of ours came over this last weekend to enjoy some dinner and good ol' fashioned fellowship. The husband needed to borrow a router [and of course Mr. Dude had an extra one] and some troubleshooting in setting it up for whatever project he had going on at home. I told him any night of the week was fine [amazing how your evenings are suddenly all available when you're at home with your sleeping kiddo], and he'd get bonus points for bringing his wife along and staying long enough for us to have dinner together. He agreed and the date was set.

So our home-beer-brewin'-gotta-moustache-that'll-make-Moses-jealous-composer-extraordinaire friend and his lovely graphic-designing-film-photography-I-can-knit-anything-with-my-eyes-closed wife joined us for a fantastic evening in.

After dinner, the guys set about to work on their project while we ladies decided that chatting away with BBC's classic Pride and Prejudice in the background would be lovely. Suddenly, though, Mr. Dude quit out of the movie and went to the arcade games section on the XBox360, declaring that he had been waiting for Mr. Composer Friend to come over just so they could play this particular game together since they share a love of the movie by the same name.

Even more suddenly, a controller was in my hands and all four of us were trying to help poor Scott Pilgrim defeat all the bullies so he could go on a date with Ramona, or something to that effect.

Correction. They were all helping Scott. I was randomly pushing buttons and wondering what the heck they made my character do. It all seemed like a giant plot just to get me to play video games.

Attempted indoctrination via "gateway" games, I tell you.

[But, Stephanie! This is a really easy arcade game! You gotta admit that it's awesome! How could you not like video games when there's stuff like this to play?! Look at those graphics! Listen to that 8-bit music they wrote just for this game!]

And when we all got horrendously sick of the soundtrack [or maybe that was just me] and finally beat the level, our artsy and talented friends pulled out all four of their Apple devices so we could play an epic group game.

[I make the distinction about what kind of friends they are because there are very few people that Mr. Dude will recommend Apple products to or not scoff at for purchasing said products. He's a techie - and it irks him that Apple won't let him "under the hood", so to speak. But if you're a composer, a photographer, a graphic designer, an architect, etc, who actually needs some of their specialized software, then he's all for you dropping a ridiculous amount of money on an Apple product.]

Spaceteam is a cooperative game where you have commands flashing on your screen that you need to follow or one of your teammates needs to follow. And if you don't follow them all [or enough of them], then your space ship dies. Oh no!

Here's the official [and better-than-Stephanie's] description from the Apple Store:

Fluxtrunions? Beveled Nanobuzzers? Auxiliary Technoprobes? Outrunning an exploded star?!?!

Felt awfully Star Trek-ish to me.

I guess I'm just lucky that Q didn't show up to make it all the more confusing.

Also, have you ever tried to play a game like Catch Phrase, Pictionary or Yahtzee quietly, especially when there's an infant attempting to sleep not-so-far-away in a rather small apartment?

This was like that. As in, not possible.

Multiple infant-wakings aside, it was exhilarating, confusing, fun and stressful, all at the same time.

And I think I may actually like it.

[Gasp! Is this where I tell Mr. Dude that I found it on the Google Play Store, so we can install it on our phones, too?] 

So that was my epic Friday night. It was Scott Pilgrim vs. me. Or maybe that was Mr. Dude vs. me. Not sure if he won or I lost.

Either way, I spent my Friday night playing video games.

Definitely wasn't expecting that.

Uh, at least we can be on the same Spaceteam now? 

Best. Movie. Prop. EVER.

Mr. Dude and I spotted Skyfall on Amazon Prime this weekend, and took the opportunity to sit still for a couple of hours. It's a rare occurrence when you're the parents of a 7.5 month old, even when he's not mobile yet.

[Irony: It actually took us a couple of days to watch it because we couldn't sit still long enough in between caring for Little Guy and tending to household chores. Oh you childless couples - savor your restful times now, because they all but vanish when you've got a munchkin!]

May I submit to you the best movie prop ever?

Screenshot from our TV. Note the closed captioning. Yes, we're old. 

Folks, that is a Scrabble mug. 

And I think I need to find one. 

And then play a game of Scrabble. 

But not with Mr. Dude. 

I love him, but the man takes at least ten minutes on every single turn trying to get the best possible play. Maybe I just need to start reading a book or something when it's not my turn. But then I can't watch to make sure he's not trying to cheat. 

You know, like this time: 

Where was the cheating, you ask? 

Hint: Look at where he placed "frigid". 

The good news is, I still beat him. Soundly. Even after letting him get away with such an atrocity. We were on our "babymoon" and I was both in a good mood and feeling sorry for how badly he was losing. Aren't I magnanimous wife? :) 

Now to look for a Scrabble mug on the interwebs ... 

Double Vision

I've mentioned before how Mr. Dude got some free t-shirts from PAX this year.

What I didn't realize was just how many free t-shirts he got.

Uh, is it just me, or am I seeing double? 

I discovered the multiples while putting away laundry with Little Guy and sent Mr. Dude a text message about it, wanting to investigate, you know.

[Is now a good time to mention that PAX was almost 2 months ago, and I'm only just now noticing these?!]

Me: Can you tell me what is wrong with this picture?
Mr. Dude: We're missing a halflife 2 t-shirt.
Me: Moooooooooo

I'm hoping that means his t-shirts don't have an inverse relationship with socks in the washing machine gaining a nerd t-shirt for every sock you lose.

We could end up with a lot of nerd t-shirts that way.

It's All Been a Beef Misunderstanding ...

If you've been around me for longer than an hour, you know I like to cook.

Okay, so I may be obsessed with cooking. And food. Mmm ... I like food. The technical term is "foodie", although you could make the argument that I'm something of a "food nerd". It fascinates me and I love learning how to make new things from scratch, so I guess you could also say that I "geek out" over food.

Didn't used to be that way. I used to be a REALLY picky eater. I wouldn't try very many new things, couldn't do any fish, didn't like the thought of not knowing every ingredient that was in the item I ordered ... there are some things I still haven't come around to (ahem, calamari, mustard, mushrooms, pickles, and lots of other things that Mr. Dude "sacrifices" by eating for me), but it's a much shorter list than it used to be.

I blame my college roomies. Some of them were vocal performance majors who couldn't eat dairy or cooked tomatoes because that would mess with their vocal cords too much. We each took turns cooking dinners for all of us, and all I knew how to make was Italian and Mexican. Translation: lots and lots of dairy and cooked tomatoes. What on earth do you make for these people?!

So the internet and I became best friends and I branched out. I learned about quinoa, risotto, cooking with wine, why the crock pot is my best friend, how legumes and grains make a whole (and dirt-cheap) protein ... but I digress. Suffice it to say that cooking has become an addictive hobby that Mr. Dude certainly appreciates.

I made a kick-butt stew (seriously, it's spicy enough to kick your butt) tonight for dinner and do you know how Mr. Dude reacted?

Mr. Dude: "You know, I like it, Stephanie. But the beef is really tender ..."
Me: "Um, it's supposed to be like that. That's why you cook it so slowly at a low temperature. That's what makes it tasty."
Mr. Dude [with a sheepish grin]: "Oh. Uh. Then it's good!"

For all the geek speak that he teaches me, apparently I need to return the favor and start showing him what I know about cooking. If he doesn't know the basics about how food is supposed to taste, then I haven't been doing my job!

Or maybe I just don't talk his ear off about what I'm making the way he talks my ear off about technology ... 

For the record, here's what I made. Props to Cynthia Lair and her Feeding the Whole Family cookbook. Everything I've ever made from there has been phenomenal. No joke.

[Side note: I may have been giddy when Mr. Dude's aunt, a registered dietitian and college nutrition professor, offered to introduce me to Cynthia. It'd be the cooking equivalent of meeting Bill Nye, the Science Guy. True story.] 

Yes, that's Mr. Dude's keyboard in the background. 

Yes, it glows. In multiple colors. 

Because why wouldn't you buy a keyboard that glows? 

Spice Island Beef Stew

Prep time: 10 minutes to prepare stew, 2.5 hrs cooking time.
Makes 4 to 6 servings

3 tbs extra virgin olive oil, divided
1 lb beef chuck, trimmed and cut into 1 inch cubes
1 large onion, coarsely chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/4 habanero pepper, minced (remove seeds if you're not a fan of "heat")
1/2 tsp dried thyme
1/2 tsp allspice
1/4 flour
1 bay leaf
Zest of 1 orange
Juice of 1 orange plus water, wine and/or stock to equal 1.5 cups
1 (14 oz) can diced tomatoes
2 tsp sea salt
1 green bell pepper, diced
1 medium zucchini, diced
1 cup cooked red beans

Heat a large stew pot or pressure cooker over medium-high heat. Add 2 tablespoons of the oil and meat. Brown meat on all sides, about 5 minutes. Remove meat and set aside on plate.

Add remaining oil to pot along with onion. Saute briefly, until onion begins to turn translucent. Add garlic, habanero, thyme and allspice. Cook for 30 seconds, until garlic and spices are fragrant.

Return meat to pot. Sprinkle flour over sauteed mixture and stir to coat meat and vegetables. Cook 1 to 2 minutes, then add bay leaf, orange zest and juice, liquid, tomatoes and salt.

Bring to a boil. Turn heat to low, cover and simmer 1.5 hours, or until meat begins to tenderize.

Add bell pepper and zucchini. Return to a simmer and cook, covered, 20 minutes, or until vegetables are nearly tender. Add beans and simmer 10 minutes more, until flavors have blended and meat can be shredded with a spoon. Discard bay leaf, adjust seasonings if necessary, and serve.

[It's super tasty with toasted homemade bread. Just sayin'.]

Red Flags

It's always reassuring to hear that your spouse didn't have cold feet before your wedding.

But this weekend, I heard about a (at least semi-) serious conversation between Mr. Dude and his parents before he proposed.

He was home for just one summer during his entire college career - he had an internship back in Seattle after working at the on-campus IT help desk for a few summers. It was the one long stretch we were apart for while dating.

And it wasn't fun.

Towards the end of summer, we were heading into our senior year at college and getting serious about marriage. As in, I may have told him I was willing to move to Seattle after graduation just to be close to him, even if we weren't married.

Mr. Dude's parents were wanting to help him be sure that he was making a thoughtful decision because marriage is for a lifetime.

[Uh, random side note - He had also just managed to burn a hole in their tablecloth that summer after soldering a powerjack back together in his laptop while working at their kitchen table. You know, because the garage would be too inconvenient. And sensible.]

Mr. Dude's Mom: Now, Mr. Dude, we know you're getting serious about Stephanie. Are you thinking you're going to propose to her soon?
Mr. Dude: Yeah, I think so. We work really well together and she understands me really well. She's my best friend!
Mr. Dude's Mom: And you haven't seen any red flags go up? There's nothing about her that makes you concerned, right? Because marriage is forever and we want you to be sure.
Mr. Dude: Nope. No red flags that I've seen. Well, aside from the fact that she doesn't like to play Quake 4. But I think she'll still be okay. 

Quake 4? Really?! You were considering asking me to be your wife and that's all you had to say about red flags?!?!

Then again, that's the only red flag he had.

Okay. I'll take it. :)