Pad Thai: adventures in southeast Asia

I don't eat weird food. I never have.

While I was abroad, I stuck to a safe staple: margherita pizza.

It didn't matter if we were traveling to Paris or Prague, Florence or Amsterdam, if there was a pie with mozzarella, tomato and basil, it made it's way into my mouth.

Sarah, being younger but wiser, always ordered the boeuf bourguignon in Nice, fish and chips in London, gnocchi in Venice and schnitzel in Germany...all while I was wasting my time not culturing my pallet and certainly not broadening anyone's horizons...so much for stepping outside a girls' comfort zone.

Insert fret and regret here.

BUT, instead of torturing myself with the terrorizing trifecta coulda', shoulda' woulda', I decided to right my wrongs and get on a path.

A small footpath, mind you. But be sure, it's headed somewhere.

The first stop on my road to recovery was to try Indian food.

Um, what? Isn't that little intense, you ask. I was wary. Luckily, I work around a group of truly well traveled individuals and I have access to the best advice and first hand knowledge about where to get the right food in this town.

Enter Kevin, peer advisor to southeast Asia. As an alumni of our USAC program in Bangalore, India, he suggested the staff head out to the Indian food buffet at Cafe Culture, a small restaurant located within walking distance of our office.

Best.Idea.Ever.

However, this post is not about Indian food, it's about Thai food.

Second on my list of must haves was Thai food.

Not because I was particularly interested in yet another Asian invasion, but because it was Frank's birthday, and we decided that it was only appropriate to take him to to dinner at his favorite Thai place in town, Sophia's.

Generally, I shy away from places I've never been, as far as eating goes. This is especially true when they have an address that includes Nord Avenue after the street number.

As I pulled into what appeared to be the driveway - I use driveway loosely, it was more of an alley-my eyes fell on the two other cars in the parking lot - and by parking lot I clearly mean slightly bigger alley where cars park.

Here's what I was expecting to walk in to: a tiny, probably smelly, maybe musty, likely chintzy room with spicy, hostile noodles, chicken feet soup and perhaps a precious fish dish of some kind.

Sophia's was definitely not any of those things.

Walking in was like being transported back to my time in Europe, which is weird since it was a Thai place. The thing is, our time overseas was spent finding hidden gems down back alleys, in corridors and around shadowed corners to find the most authentic food, and of course, my pizza.

I had no idea what to get. Everything sounded like it would burn my mouth off, which wasn't as enticing as it sounds. I was worried that my lips would be on fire and my nose would be running just looking at the curry dishes. Cute.

I decided on the Pad Thai, which is s a dish of stir-fried rice noodles with eggs, fish sauce, tamarind juice, red chilli pepper, plus any combination of bean sprouts, shrimp, chicken, or tofu, garnished with crushed peanuts, corianderand lime, the juice of which can be added along with Thai condiments.

It was uh.maiz.ing. It came as a heaping pile of beige-brown noodles covered in red sauce with red peppers, crushed peanuts and a myriad of new flavors for my delicate taste buds.

Pad Thai had me at hello, in a proverbial sense.

It was a picture perfect blend of firey spices, peanut saltiness, saucy noodles and red-hot chili peppers, which all hit my tongue like a ton of bricks as soon as my fork passed my lips.

Not only was Sophia's a great experience to expand my palate pleasures, it was a lesson in friendship, and the importance of f(r)amily.

F(r)amily is a term I found deep in the pages of Cosmo. I coined it with my BFF's and made it a part of the words I use every day, to describe the friends I love and lean on whilst away at college.

The importance of a college network full of f(r)amily members has become more and more important as I have gotten older.

There comes a point in your life when you no longer list your mom as your emergency contact, and when you need to change your tire, you don't call your dad. You list your roommate who has been on a 16 hour train ride to Prague with you as your emergency contact, and you call your boyfriend to change your tire.

As we all sat there around the table, with our mouths on fire, eyes watering and food being passed around like a family at Thanksgiving, I realized how these great friends have truly become my family.

San Diego: A Whale's...Lady Parts

Before you get offended, please travel back in time to 2004 and recall the wildly popular Will Ferrell movie, Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy. The movie tells the tale of an outrageous newscaster in downtown San Diego. Turn those hour glasses even further to recall the film is set in the 1970's, and has the toupees to prove it.

All of this is to say that last week I visited the city "which course, in German, means a whale's vagina."

My best friend and roommate in Chico, Sarah, grew up in Encinitas and her parents continue to reside there. Often during breaks at the holidays, I like to get out of northern California and head south, where the Mexican food is straight across the fence and the weather is continually 70 degrees.

Nikki, our third traveling companion last year in France, joined me on my flight from Sacramento. This was my second time traveling to San Diego on Southwest, and let me tell you, they have yet to disappoint a girl.

The Diet Coke is always crisp (vital) and the peanuts are always plentiful. PLUS Southwest keeps it real with the classic airline snack, which makes a seasoned traveler feel at home when a bag of peanuts is tossed over her sleeping, drooling neighbor (and yes, I am talking about Nikki).

After our long, drawn out totally treacherous hour and ten minute flight (read:sarcasm), we arrived at SAN and set out for a mid-day meal in Hillcrest, which is undoubtedly the gay-friendly 'hood, with its Urban Outfitters on every corner, French restaurants, men in tight jogging shorts and rainbow flags waving proudly.

Our lunch, to say the least, was uh.maiz.ing. We had a giant oval-shaped 1/2 BBQ chicken 1/2 pesto bruchetta pizza at the 4 star rated joint, Pizza Fusion. We loved this perfect-for-a-lunch-date place for its gluten free menu, soy cheese options, save the earth mantra and organic veggies on every slice. Oh, and the waitress had dreads. Win.

After lunch, we hit Buffalo Exchange, which is a not-your-average-thrift-store type of joint, specializing in recycled designer threads. Last time I was down there, I got a Vera Bradley wallet in Pacific Beach for $19. Yes, PLEASE.

Wednesday morning I woke up with Los Angeles on the brain.

Recently, Sarah and I have decided we want to move to LA this summer; which for me means post graduation and for her means summer internship. City of sun and sand, here we come!

Why LA, you ask? It's far, far away from here.

Don't get me wrong, my heart beats for northern California, and always will, but the itch to be somewhere new has crept up on me in the last few months, and I'm yearning for a different adventure.

PLUS.

LA has more job postings on Craigslist than any other city west of New York.

What a lot of people don't know about the PR industry is that there are so many sectors of the biz.

Though all cities have ALL categories, here's a few IE's: San Francisco frequents tech jobs (hello Silicon Valley!), Sacramento agencies have food and wine clients up the whazoo, and LA is fashion forward, lifestyle and celebrity PR.

What says Caitlin Wallace more than fashion, lifestyle and celebrities? Not much.

I've been obsessed with Kate Middleton ever since she and Bill vowed to seal the deal, I've @'ed Chris Colfer so many times on Twitter that I'm expecting his restraining order via USPS any day and I knew Lance Bass was gay before he frosted his hair in the late 90's.

I have a gift for celebrity gossip- I can see it now: PR pro to the stars.

The three of us spent the day galavanting ( as we so often do ), with lunch on the way to LA at The Cliff in Laguna, which has oceanside dining and an avocado spread to absolutely die for.

The must haves on the menu are: The Southwest Chicken Wrap and The Turkey Wrap (try the fresh fruit OR the fries). Don't even get me STARTED on the sun-dried tomato mayonnaise!

See lunch options.

Thursday morning, we hit one of our favorite hidden gems, Saint Tropez Bakery and Bistrot.

Not only have I been to the cafe's namesake, but the minute I walked in, I felt a stab of homesickness for my time in Provence. The tablecloths were a delicate yellow with olive branches, just like all the fabrics in the boutique shops from Nice to Avignon.

The glass pastry case in the shop filled with the glazed raspberry tarts of our past lives as students on the french riviera washed waves of familiarity over us as the pink, green and brown macaroons stared back at us just like they did in Paul, our favorite patisserie in Aix-en-Provence.

Along with morning tea at Saint Tropez, riding The Coaster downtown is a must do in San Diego. For about $12 roundtrip, you can ride from north county (Carlsbad-Encinitas) to downtown, sans traffic and gasoline. The train follows the tracks oceanside and takes about 45 minutes.

If serious shopping is what you're into, look no further than Horton Plaza. This outdoor shopping mecca has some of the best stores and selections of anywhere I've been, and is well taken care of, due to to it's roots in the Westfield family.

I fell in love with downtown San Diego, before we'd even reached the famous Gaslamp Quarter, which is often considered to be the heart and soul of the city.

Friday morning, we arose early to catch our flight back to the Northstate. The familiar security measures seemed gloomier than before ( and not just because we were felt up by TSA ) as we left our wonderful vacation behind.

One of catch 22's about traveling is that just when you think you need to take a trip to satisfy a need, you get on your returning plane or train yearning for your next adventure.

I often find myself telling future study abroaders that I went abroad to see Europe, because that's really all I wanted to see; I thought a year over there would quench my thirst for world traveling, but as I returned home, all I could think of was all the places I have yet to see.

“Adventure is a path. Real adventure – self-determined, self-motivated, often risky – forces you to have firsthand encounters with the world. The world the way it is, not the way you imagine it. Your body will collide with the earth and you will bear witness. In this way you will be compelled to grapple with the limitless kindness and bottomless cruelty of humankind – and perhaps realize that you yourself are capable of both. This will change you. Nothing will ever again be black-and-white.” – Mark Jenkins

* Also a HUGE thank you to Mark and Virginia Mann. As always, you were truly wonderful hosts and I appreciate your willingness to let us spend our holidays in your coastal villa.

When Nouns Become Verbs: How Language Keeps Up With Technology

"Well, right after she facebooked me, I googled the best places to live in the south bay. I told her she could always just jump and Craigslist and creep out some apartments for him...whatever works."

Wiki-wha?!

Because of my experience traveling (and living ) in places other than the good ol' US of A, I know what it's like to struggle through a language barrier. I've played my fair share of charades games with shop owners, waiters and French teachers in order to get my point across...but what happens when the words of my own language start to blur?

The advent of social media changed the way Gen Y-ers talk (and write ).... to each other.

As a child born right in the middle of Generation Y ( 1982-1995 ), I started my MySpace page when I was a senior in high school (2004-2005), and had to wait a few weeks until my university made it onto the exclusive Facebook network (2005).

I remember MySpace before you could customize your background, and Facebook when you had to have a college e-mail address to join.

Though MySpace is virtually extinct, Facebook is alive and well; Mark Zuckerburg was just named Time Magazine's Person Of The Year for 2010. Though I would love to go on and on about Facebook (due to my mild obsession with Mark), I'll get back on topic.

The term "MySpaced" came about as a short cut for, "he wrote me a message on MySpace", or "she commented on my MySpace page"

...soon this snowballed into, "he facebooked me," " facebook messaged me" and later, "she facebook chatted me".

So I ask you, when did Facebook become a verb?

Did it slowly creep up on us with the advent of texting? It seemed innocent enough to relay something someone "texted" you.

(Texted is even more hilarious because it delves into the fact that it's past tense of a non-existant verb...texts are just that, TEXT..like, words on a page...HOW is that a verb?!)

Was it when Google became the universal search engine? It seems like I say "I'll just google it" at LEAST twice a day.

(Also hilarious because Google is the name of a COMPANY. It's like when people claim they need a Starbucks when I KNOW they mean they need COFFEE)

Was it when LOL because so universal that our Gen X parents understand it, even TEXT it to us?

Or perhaps when Twitter limited us to 140 characters?

And speaking of Twitter, why do tweeters "tweet" and not "twit" or "twittered"?

I twittered it. That DOES sound dumb.

Is it just slang? For now, I think so.

If I was writing to a teacher, no WAY would I write that someone facebooked me...my spell check doesn't even recognize it. I would write the long hand version, stating that someone wrote me a message on Facebook.

Social media isn't going anywhere. Despite news stories about social media coming into conflict with the workplace, it can absolutely help people and businesses market and promote, as well as reach out to a large audience on a more personal level. I mean, let's be honest, I follow Chris Colfer on Twitter, that's real.

Moral of the story, Gen Y's, aka lovers of all things social media, can turn anything into a verb. I personally am guilty of just plain making up words. I even turn verbs into adjectives when I can.

As a lover of language, I say bring it on.

(Can you believe after all that I ended my sentence with a preposition?)

I knew you could.

A Girl's Gotta Pay The Bills

Staff Potluck, Fall 2010

The Gals, Welcome Back Party, Fall 2010

Staff Christmas Dinner, Dec 2010

My Bosses, enough said.

SAO Staff, Welcome Back Party, Fall 2010

Student Staff, Spring Orientation

President Zingg and I

Peer Advisor Night Out (One of Many)

Shasta Caverns, Sept 2010

...and boy do I have an expensive lifestyle.

Even sans the great credit card max- outs of '08-'09, I still have trouble keeping up with the Jones's, in a proverbial sense anyway.

In a literal context, I'm just a poor college kid with an unfortunate taste for couture... aren't we all?

Luckily, I am without any decent places to shop, so True Religion jeans go un-worshipped and Tiffany's is just a 1/4 karat glitter in my sparkling eyes.

This post however, is NOT about dreaming of Juicy. It's actually about work...which is related directly to the green goods.

I recently quit my job working for corporate America -the "man" as a current co-worker so affectionately called it. Rude.- making lattes and dealing with cranky coffee drinkers of all ages and incomes marching in the doors of Starbucks.

While working for the coffee giant gave me all the social stimulation I could handle (and more), I just couldn't swing working in a green apron and on campus at the Study Abroad Office - plus that little thing called school.

Isn't that what I'm actually paying for? Talk about the green goods.

Since resigning my post as a professional barista extrodinaire, I have really been able to focus on my job as the International Intern Coordinator for study abroad.

All that extra time (as if) also gave me the time I needed to land a solid spring internship as the -drum roll please- the Social Media Director for Tehama Group Communications, the award winning, student run PR agency on campus.

As this semester came to a close, however, a Lorelei Gilmore quote kept playing in my mind:

" I want to stay here, in this place, just a little longer."

Late November and much of December was a total blur of serious classwork deadlines, Christmas cheer overload, stressful secret santa shopping, menorah lightings, flight delays and the need for happy hour on a Tuesday afternoon; despite all of that, I spent much of those last weeks observing my life and f(r)amily, wishing I could freeze us all together, in that place.

The only other semester I can remember feeling this way about (aside from my time overseas) is my second fall in Rexburg, at BYUI. It was me, Emily, Hannah, Alli and David against the world.

This fall, it mostly felt like just me against the world, but as I look back on the Monday morning staff meetings, Saturday orientations, Wednesday nights at Tres Hombres and countless hours at and around megadesk, I realize it really was us, trying to live our lives in the States, while our hearts were always somewhere else.

MOW: Love and Other Drugs

Size does matter.

Yes, I am talking that that outer appendage that seems to guide the hearts, souls and minds of the patriarchs of our society.

One such example of a hormone driven XY is Jamie Randall (played by the Jake Gyllenhaal) in the latest and greatest romantic comedy to hit the big screen, Love and Other Drugs.

Set in 1996, the movie takes viewers through the day-to-day life of a pharmaceutical rep in the earlier days of pill pushing, when Prozac was a new phenomenon and before Pfizer pens were in every desk drawer in America.

Gyllenhaal, a new rep on the force, works his way onto the prescription pads of his doctor clients, and into the pants of their secretaries by laying on the charm of those big blue eyes.

During an effort to woo a doctor into prescribing Zoloft, Gyllenhaal meets an early onset Parkinson's Disease patient, Maggie Murdock ( played by Anne Hathaway ). His efforts to woo are then directly focused on her, and he succeeds, falling for her (for real) in the process.

Gyllenhaal and Hathaway have undeniable chemistry, and it helps that they are half-naked for the better part of the movie. Their lust is temporarily put on hold when Jamie ( Gyllenhaal) drags Maggie all over the country trying to find her a cure, when really he is trying to soothe his own anxiety about her serious condition.

These days, I don't really love a love story, but there's something oddly real about Gyllenhaal and Hathaway. His underlying insecurity (always?) and her desperate fierceness to remain independent as her disease takes away her dignity feels less Enchanted ( Patrick Dempsey, Amy Adams) and more My Big Fat Greek Wedding.

Just two fairly ordinary people with ordinary jobs, who find themselves fighting a common battle: being in love.

The final scene shows Jamie chasing after Maggie, who is in a bus to Canada to get drugs ( a not-so-subtle jab at the pharmaceutical industry and the state of American health care), where he promptly orders her off the bus and claims he can't live without her.

The best part of the movie: when Maggie asks Jamie to tell her four things he likes about himself. I've started doing that.

MOW: College Grad Gets Job

...No, I'm not talking about me.

The grateful grad I speak of is Becky Fuller (played by Rachel McAdams) in the latest comedy-gone-drama, Morning Glory.

Glory starts off with the librarian status ponytail sporting Fuller getting laid off from semi-decent job at a New Jersey news station during a meeting she assumes was called to offer her a promotion.

Oops.

A few weeks and 300 resumes later, Fuller is interviewed by a large and successful station for a position at a failing morning show.

She practically has to beg the producers to give her a chance, and when he tells her the pay is practically nothing, her desperation gets the best of her as she agrees to take the job despite its downfalls.

First day jitters don't get Becky down as she meets her nutty and demanding anchor, Colleen Peck (played by the wonderful Diane Keaton), and is shrilly screamed at from a basement dressing room for attempting to get the show's ratings out of the toilet.

Fuller's perky determination gets the best of her when she, in order to save the show, contacts an old has-been reporter, Mike Pomeroy (played by Harrison Ford, swoon), and demands he help a girl out, as he is still on contract with the station, and will terminate his employment if the station offers him a job and he turns it down.

Reluctantly, Mike joins the less-than-hard-news morning show, Daybreak, and spends weeks and weeks barely participating, fighting on-air with Colleen, and generally making Becky's life more of a living hell than it already is.

A highlight of the otherwise painful-most-of-the-time film is the love story between Becky and a darling blonde journalist-reporter type who works on the millionth floor, Adam Bennett (played by Patrick Wilson).

As their relationship deepens, so does Becky's devotion to the station, and they spend many a night over chinese take-out while she checks her buzzing blackberry and watches the news out of the corner of her eye.

Early one morning, Mike lures Becky up into the catskills for a "breaking" story. Though reluctant, Becky agrees to dish the dirt, whatever it is. They arrive at the governor's mansion in upstate New York, only to out him for some kind of financial scandal, to which Pomeroy has already alerted local media...needless to say, the scoop saves the show.

Pomeroy and Fuller have a quasi heart-to-heart after the governor's bust, and he warns her against the dangers of working too hard and devoting too much to the station, because in the end, it won't love her back like Adam does.

gLeeK

Why are TV shows about high school so popular?

You know what I'm talking about.

The most current (and favorable) example of this phenomenon is the hit FOX show, Glee. The hour long mini-musical episodes follow the trials and tribulations of high school life, seen through the eyes of the Mckinley High School Glee Club.

Like many televisions shows that have shaped American culture, Glee masks underlying adolesent themes into its witty characters and quippy one-liners. The pilot episode of the show tells the story of a jock that loves to sing (High School Musical, much?) but is too afraid to show his sensitive side.

Since then, the show has dealt with teen pregnancy, homophobia, stereotypes, racism, divorce, socioeconomic prejudice and other societal issues facing this great nation, all while breaking into song before every commercial break.

So what makes shows about high school so damn interesting?

Personally, I think it's the characters.

They're what keep me going, especially in Glee. I love a good male lead ( think: Derek Shepherd, Grey's Anatomy) and Finn Hudson, (played by Canadian Cory Monteith,) is no exception.

Hudson is a downright gorgeous, tall, hunk of a man, who says silly high school boy things and has a heart of absolute gold. He falls in love with the pushy, snotty, and downright selfish ( but ridiculously talented) female lead, Rachel Berry (played by Lea Michelle).

One of their best lines as a couple is:
Finn: You're a controllist.
Rachel: Controlling. Controlist isn't a word.

Alongside Hudson is another loveable male lead, gay teen Kurt Hummel (played by Chris Colfer), who is constantly dealing with issues surrounding his sexuality.

Hummel is a fiercely emotional, hilariously quotable dream of a teen, who sometimes gets in over his head when he lets his pathos- driven side take the wheel.

The previews for Never Been Kissed, which airs November 2nd, show Kurt considering switching to a more affluent (and what he believes to be) more accepting high school where an out, proud, and quite darling gay character attends.

Kurt deals with a lot of things that are on the minds of gay (and straight) teens today when it comes to acceptance, self confidence and knowing who you are.

Hummel is a shining example of someone who isn't afraid to be different.

The FOX hit is not a show about rich teens in Orange County or scandalous eleventh graders on the Upper-East side. Glee is about the insecure quarterback of the football team, and the president of the celibacy club who gets pregnant her junior year.

Shows like Glee that reflect pop culture are like time capsules we can take into our later years.

Remember Saved By The Bell, The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air and Boy Meets World? These are shows the babies of the 80's can keep for the future to remember the 90's by.

The cultural references in these sitcoms can transport us back to whatever cultural revolution that decade was in the midst of.

Glee is no exception.