i am home

i have returned home to find that my parents have enacted quite a lifestyle change for themselves in terms of diet. not only have they finally converted to the skim milk that i used to plead with them to drink, but now they even surprise me in terms of how health-conscious they are. the moment i arrived home from the airport to my waiting mother, she eagerly offered, "i made you a fruit drink": a blend of grapes, strawberries, and milk. "it's all natural sugars and full of protein."

after dinner, she got even more excited than she was about the drink. "ooo! let me make you a treat that dad and i now eat everyday!" plain, fat-free yogurt with chunks of fresh pineapple. she stuffed my mouth with a giant spoonful. "no fat! all natural sugars!"

we eat oatmeal for breakfast everyday now, except my mom's been eating instant grits lately because she grabbed the wrong box at the grocery store thinking it was plain oatmeal. my dad and i have been assigned the task of finishing the wholesale-store-size variety pack of oatmeal she bought because the variety pack turned out to be not so varied, as each flavor inevitably contains cinnamon, and she doesn't like the cinnamon.

yesterday i learned that the smoothie and pineapple-yogurt concoction are my mother's original creations. at work, her coworkers have named the drink after her, the "j. milkshake." today for lunch, she made me another one of her originals: vegetable soup with spinach, tomatoes, mushrooms, egg, dried itty bitty prawns, etc. not bad. "no oil!" she's a shameless promoter of her concoctions.

as much as i make fun of my mother's ways, i must admit that i am impressed. her creations are very creative and pretty tasty--i actually requested the pineapple-yogurt mix last night because i was craving it. (craving's a strong word--maybe just in the mood for it.) my mother's one of those people who, if she sets her mind/heart on something, will make it work.

backtrack for a sec: the flight home from school. the old man i had to deal with at the united check-in counter was a cross between scrooge and cheney. no hint of a smile on his face, only a pointy, hooked nose like the penguin in batman and emptiness in his heart like the grinch.

he had me place my first checked bag on the scale. initially 51, then down to 49.5, and finally settled at 50. perfect. 50 lbs is the limit.

i moved that one off and struggled (but managed) to get my second bag on the scale. he made no move to assist. 93. inside, my eyes bulged and i thought, damn. sometimes i even impress myself.

"that's way way way overweight." thank you, mr. obvious.

"yeah, i'll pay the extra fee." i had already checked united's website for their overweight luggage policies--$50. way more than what i had to pay last year on american, but i had resigned myself to the fact that it was inevitable that i have one piece of overweight luggage.

the old man whispered something to the united check-in counter man next to him, who audibly replied, "no, it has to be above 99." the old man was noticeably disappointed. i handed him my credit card, doing my best to shoot cold evil from my eyes at him as i did so.

he wanted to charge me more than the $50 for my suitcase. with all his heart he wanted that. i wish my bag had been 98.5. asshole.

i have yet to unpack, but my suitcases are now at least both in my room. the 93-pounder we left on the bottom floor after we brought it in from the garage. i had to take two trips to unload the heavier things like the textbooks and all the shoes before i could drag it up to my room on the third floor. the task of unpacking 140+ pounds of my stuff is incredibly daunting right now.

i had a layover in chicago. on the plane into chicago, there was a man sitting in the row in front of me who had a silvery blond mustache that he had grown long at either end so that he could put product in them and twist them so that they stuck two or three inches out from his face on either side with the texture and stiffness of straw. his tie was gradated rainbow, like the matrix in photo-editing software where you select what shade you want to tint a photo. the words "salt lake city" had been embroidered on the cuff of his white button-up, and he wore tie-dyed socks inside his slip-on shoes. on the plane leaving chicago, there was an african-american man wearing a beige seersucker suit with an orange shirt underneath, and it was perfect.

back to the topic of my mother: mother's day. we'll be celebrating on saturday instead because for sunday brunch, we've been invited to dim sum with some family friends. i will be making my mother breakfast: (raw, antioxidant-rich) blueberry tartlets (a recipe i found from SELF magazine that's originally from the golden door spa in cali), my very own avocado omelettes, martha's sweet potato hash browns, and ina's tropical smoothies. the smoothies have mango and papaya and bananas and orange in them. my mother says she doesn't like mango or papaya, but i'm going to make the smoothies anyways. i don't think she knows how good mango is in smoothies. she's never had odwalla's mango tango.

i bought a food processor yesterday. i'll need it to make the almond crust of the tartlets, but that's not the only reason i bought it. it's handy to have around. we used to have one but it got lost in all the moving. i want to food process things. i can make pesto, but i need 5 cups of basil, according to giada. she's beautiful, isn't she? anyways, that much basil would be expensive at the store, so i should probably grow it myself. i don't know how fast i can grow 5 cups of basil.

i'm between reading any place i hang my hat and the latest issue of harper's bazaar. until next time.