new blog

Hello, Friends!

I know I haven't posted in quite some time, but that's because my husband and I launched a new store and I have been focusing on building our website and a new blog right on our website.

I invite all of my cooking fans to visit us there:
http://candlemoments.net

To Do List

This post is not really a funny story, but something I wanted to share anyway. I wrote this To Do List for my graduating student council officers; I hope you find enjoyment reading it.

To Do List (Complete per Ms. Fusaro’s Instructions)

1. Share a bathroom with multiple people. This is a humbling experience. It will teach you humility, grace, and how to love yourself no matter what.
2. Find one professor you love and take as many classes with him/her as you can; even if you don’t need the classes.
3. Start your papers the day they are assigned to you. I promise, you will never say, “Wow, I wish I waited until the last minute to do this.”
4. Make “happy lists” with your new friends. You will get to know them even better, you will remember the best parts of home, and you will laugh your butts off. Oreo milkshakes were on every happy list I wrote in college. Don’t drink them every day. Gaining 50 pounds because of Oreo milkshakes did not make me happy.
5. Take care of your health. It’s easy to ignore it when you’re so busy, but you will not be productive if you don’t feel well. Go for walks at 3am around your campus. Walking is great to clear your mind. But maybe bring a friend…staying healthy means staying alive, too.
6. Apples wake you up way better than coffee. Love coffee, love apples more.
7. Fall in love. With her, with him, with art, with engineering, with the simple quiet, or the din of city, just take a breath to appreciate and fall in love.
8. Let there be music! Spend money on great music and play your favorite, horrible songs while you get dressed to go out with your friends. You’ll appreciate this more 10 years later when you hear the song on the radio and feel super-cool again.
9. Be careful when you go out; bad things do happen. Never allow yourself to have so much “fun” that you are not able to hail a taxi and get the heck out of wherever you are.
10. Read! Most of college is independent study and you really won’t be able to follow along without reading.
11. Studying for a college exam is not anything like high school. Exams will be few and far between, tons of material on one test, study a little bit every day to ensure you’re actually learning.
12. No grade-grubbing in college. Professors hate it. Only question your grade if you can prove there was an error.
13. Electronics are fun to have in class, but have many distracting qualities. Do yourself a favor and use old-school notebooks; it will force you to focus on your study at least while you’re in class.
14. Persevere. You will want to quit sometimes, but step back to make sure you’re studying what you truly love. If yes, push through, if no, make changes.
15. Get a meningitis shot! Get booster shots! Get the HPV shot! Immunize.
16. Don’t worry about your future. Worrying about your future will not affect its outcome. Making smart decisions to secure future endeavors is not the same as worrying.
17. Don’t bother being jealous of anyone. Life, in the long run, is only a race with yourself.
18. Play. Go outside. Play tag, manhunt. Create a scavenger hunt. Just play.
19. Bring lots of Disney movies with you to your dorm room. Singing Disney songs with my roommates always made my happy list.
20. Never tolerate cruelty. Accepting cruelty to yourself, to others, to animals, is just the same as being cruel.
21. Donating your time is far more valuable than money. The same will apply for your friends, your spouse, your kids, your pets. Money can buy anything but time.
22. Appreciate your parents. We never do until it’s too late, but every now and again, stop to tell them you love them.
23. Thank the teachers in your life who inspired you. Lawyers get people out of jail, doctors heal; teachers rarely get to see their final products.
24. Buy cozy, squishy socks. Treat your feet kindly. Spend the money on good-quality shoes.
25. Do something that makes you scared every day. Sometimes that’s sky-diving, sometimes that’s asking him/her out, sometimes that’s saying I’m sorry. Just do it.
26. Try anything once.
27. Learn how to speak publicly. In a world of technology, anybody can calculate anything (that’s what Google’s for), but only the rare few can speak to the masses.
28. Hang out in Central Park with your friends, watch people, blow bubbles, watch people as you blow bubbles. You’ll help them find their childhood for a brief moment. Best. Feeling. Ever.
29. Remember that your job won’t go to your funeral. Don’t get so wrapped up in your career that you forget the people who supported you.
30. Appreciate seasons. Throw snowballs. Crush leaves. Plant flowers. Run your toes through the sand. With this crazy weather, who knows if we’ll have seasons in the future?
31. Always keep a pack of thank-you cards handy. Thank people with a hand-written card.
32. Respect your body. It is your temple, your vessel to your existence. Treat it better than you do.
33. It’s ok to share your secrets, but remember once you’ve told someone, it’s not a secret anymore. It’s never ok to share someone else’s secrets.
34. Be the friend you wish you had.
35. Be the person your dog thinks you are.
36. Be cautious of anything labeled “free.” Free sample. Fat free. Everything has a price, just be conscious of what you’re willing to replace.
37. Never put anything past anyone. Humans are capable of great evil. Humans are equally capable of great good.
38. Have the faith and confidence to know yourself. You did not fail your final. Your keys are probably in the laundry basket. You left a good impression.
39. Pray. Prayer is a form of meditation; it does not necessarily need to be directed to a specific deity. Sometimes just listing what you are thankful for everyday is cathartic.
40. You will get old. And the worst part of it is - time goes faster every year. The best part? I would never want to be 18 again, ugh.
41. Vow to only count things without true value.  Friendship, love, family cannot be quantified.
42. Stop counting down to vacation; you are wishing your life away!
43. Apply for graduate school your senior year of college. Do not wait. You will never go back.
44. Give yourself goals. Award yourself. Want a new car? Put away a certain amount every month to buy it. Want to go see a movie? Get yourself to the gym. Want to go on Spring Break? Earn at least an A- in each class.
45. Go on vacation to an island with your friends. Take a million + 2 pictures.
46. Never, ever, ever post online something you wouldn’t want your boss/professor to see. They will see it.
47. Speak nostalgically with your friends, but remember to earn new memories.
48. Call your grandparents. Send random cards to Auntie Sue. Facebook Cousin Joe. Family first.
49. Stay up all night and watch the sunrise the next morning. Outside.
50. Remember how much I will always love you.

Striking Oil

A lesson on diet pills: Read the warning labels and take them seriously. Anything that says "You may get gas with oily spotting" is not a force to be reckoned with.

But let's get serious, people, when you are on a quest, nothing gets in your way. Every quest is a journey to self-discovery and I wasn't about to let some silly, over-exaggerated warning get in the way of my quest to hotness.

I was really doing well on my own. I landed my first job, going to the gym five days a week, counting my calories; I was getting rid of the post-college 50 pounds I managed to rack on. But as the weight loss started to dwindle, I sought a little help from a little pill called Alli.

Everything was going fine, and minus a few tummy rumbles that first week, there didn't seem to be much of a difference. Then I worked extended-time at school. A small group of students who needed a bit of extra help in reading. We were going over a passage when I felt the brewing of a fart. As a teacher, I have learned to master the masking of the fart sound, so I let her rip, silently of course.

That's when the smell crept and attacked like a stealth ninja. Suddenly, my students were gasping for air and explanation: "Miss, what is that SMELL! I think I'm going to die!" One actually ran to the garbage pail and vomited. Aghast and gagging, I realized it was coming from me.

I quickly got up to try and get another teacher to cover while I ran to the bathroom, and I saw the oil. Yes, like BP on the Gulf of Mexico, oil completely blasted through my pants and all over the chair. Shame and mortification doesn't even begin to cover it.

I got that other teacher and ran to the bathroom, but there was absolutely nothing I could do; I never thought to bring extra clothes with me to work....I mean teaching is tough, but bodily fluid spills never usually got involved. I had no choice but to fry in my own oil for the remainder of the day.

Walking the class out became another quest; how do I hide the reeking stink from me as well as my completely oil-stained pants? I lowered my school bag as low as it could possibly go and ran the streets of Brooklyn like a deep-fried cheetah. My friends, striking oil is not nearly as rich as it seems.

Needless to say, that was the end of my relationship with Alli. I'll take my extra pounds over losing my internal organs through my anus any day.

An Homage to Boobs

This blog post actually comes from motivation by one of my closest friends in high school, Jenn Brenn, or Jenn Smith, now. So, before the homage to boobs, I send my thanks to her for reminding me that laughing at myself started much sooner than college.

A little background info on the silly poem: My high school sophomore English teacher, Mrs. Lowe, asked us to write and sing our own song as a creative piece. As a generally quiet and respectful student, not comfortable in my identity, this was a horrifying task -- a task I am forever grateful Mrs. Lowe assigned to us. You see, a poem about boobs literally just popped into my head. I asked her permission, and she laughingly agreed to let me sing about boobies. So, I wrote my silly poem down, memorized it, stood up in front of a class (which I never spoke in), and sang my breast homage. After a moment of complete silence, the class laughed hysterically and I even received a standing ovation. From that moment forward, I was not afraid to speak publicly; a gift like no other.

So, this poem is for a few people: To Jenn Brenn, for making me remember and for loving me in high school, despite my absurdities. To my classmates who forever changed my confidence. And finally, to Mrs. Lowe, who first gave me the courage to be myself.

Breasts

By: Kristen M. Fusaro

We have two mounds upon our chest,

Which help us look our very best.

Sometimes we pay, sometimes we don’t,

It’s rare you’ll see a star who won’t.

These two mounds upon our chest,

Are called melons, boobs, and breasts.

When they merge from beneath our shirt,

We are looked upon as dirt.

Some are large, some are small,

But fascinating are they all.

There are those that fall to the floor,

And there are those that burst through the door.

Men think they are God’s best creation,

Women think they are an invasion.

We have to pay all kinds of cash,

To help enhance our womanly stash.

Some men are just obsessed

With the wonders of our chest.

Us women just wonder why

They can get such a high,

From these two mounds upon our chest,

I’d like to call…our breasts.

Black and White and Red All Over

     Freshman year of college claimed many things from me. My savings account, my checking account, my hopes and dreams of becoming a famous author, but above all, my dignity.
     It was an evening like any other in my good-for-something dorm room. I called up my best friend, Pam, who lived several residence halls over and demanded we have a Disney-movie night. Knowing the exciting plans I had ahead, I slugged off my pajamas, hopped into the shower, and started searching for a fresh pair of pajamas to switch into. For the decency of mankind, I decided to put on a bra.
     To my chagrin, my bottle of Robitussin from my top drawer had fallen over and leaked all throughout my socks, bras, and underwear. Eh, I will put up laundry tomorrow, I figured, and proceeded to put on my now white and red-Robitussin stained bra and a black pair of underwear (which I did not realize were the most drenched at the time).
     I heard a knock on my dorm door, and knowing it was Pam, and figuring she would get a good laugh, I told her to come in. Except it wasn't Pam. It was Michael. The hottest upperclassmen guy on my floor.
     There I was in all my glory. Trying to stay cool, I said, "Oh hey, what's up?"
     "Um, I was just wondering if I could have some printer paper....I ran out."
     "Yeah, no problem!" Stay cool, stay cool.
     Bending over to pick up the paper from my printer, I realized the Robitussin was leaking from my underwear down my leg.
     Red and white bra. Black and red panties. Red dripping down my leg. I looked like I just walked out of the Bates Hotel.
     Staring at my crotch and thighs, Michael mutters, "Uhhh, Kristen, you should really get that checked out."
     "Oh no, it's ok, it's just Robitussin." Staying super smooth and ultra cool, staying super smooth and ultra cool. I hand the paper over to him.
     "Yeah, well, we have mental health services on campus, too, ya know. That's not how you take Robitussin." And he walked out of the door.

A Quick Pick-Me-Up

     I absolutely had to make it into work that day. Yes, snot was dribbling from my nose, yes, I was sneezing and coughing on anyone who was unfortunate enough to cross my path, yes, I was deemed as a pandemic similar to that of small-pox or the Bubonic plague, but I dragged my sick, sorry self to work.
    In the attempt of easing the mucous and general grotesqueness oozing from my body, I sat at my desk and simply drank Day-Quil directly from the bottle.
     Most of my student government students watched in despair, helplessness, and fear, but not Joe. Joe, who always has an optimistic view on the world, simply states, "Well, it's five o'clock somewhere."

Starry-Eyed Surprise

     During my first year of teaching 8th grade, I had a particularly vivid group of young artists who loved using permanent marker to draw pictures of male body parts all over their desks - every day.  I would have to stay late to scrub it off - every day. Finally, I wanted to address the issue directly, but also with some humor. I asked them, "Why do you constantly insist on drawing rocket ships all over the desks?".

     One student looks up at me and replies, "That's because we all want to be astronauts."