Academy Awards.

Last Sunday night, the Oscars premiered. There's something about seeing all of your favorite actors and actresses in the finest clothing imaginable, all together, under the same roof, and rooting against each other. They are all also rooting for each other. You can see they all secretly want that golden naked man all to themselves, but when someone else wins it, their face gives way to their true emotions. The tight lipped smile, and half hearted clapping is fairly noticable, and slightly heart wrenching.

There are also joyful moments, like having Neil Patrick Harris walk out in his underwear to make an annoucement. Also, when the movie Big Hero 6 won an oscar for Best Animated Feature. The main reason I was happy was because a local band from St. Louis called Greek Fire had a song in there and it gave them some of the publicity they deserve. I also enjoyed seeing The Rock announcing the win, and even his corny jokes with Zoe Saldana. I got emotional, along with everyone else when they showed all of the people in the film industry that they'd lost this past year. I grew up with Robin Williams constantly on my TV screen. I also found the win  of the documentary, CitizenFour, about Edward Snowden interesting. Kind of shows you not everything in life is rigged. Or maybe it is. Who knows?

I loved hearing the winners inspiration stories about suicide and womens rights, which Meryl Streep wholeheartedly supported. For all of the people unsure of their place in this world, these people won for them. Then Birdman won Best Picture. Which suited me, I always like to root for the underdog. It was a good year for the Academy, I'd say.

Here's the song by Greek Fire that was in Big Hero 6.

I f*ckin love TV.

It's pretty bad. I am becoming a monster. Not for the fact that I love TV, because hot damn do I love my TV, no shame here, but what I have resorted to watching. I have that problem where your favorite TV shows are not in season or have been cancelled, so you actually have a microscopic panic attack thinking about how you won't have anything to fill that 7:00 time slot on your Monday evenings off. See?! Monster! I have now found something, though.  Normally, I am one of those people who despises anything mainstream or people who worship what the media throws in our faces and tells us to.

But I do watch what my mom tells me to.

And that would be The Bachelor.
I know, I know.

But let me justify myself before you start in on the jokes.

The women on this show are THE epitome of what I hate about this society. My mother and I LOVE talking shit on all these whack jobs! They come on this show, completely plastic looking or covered in makeup, you know the kind of Kardashian type, trying to woo this suitor. Using the words "amazing" and "this experience" and "connection" or "bond" at least 10 times a show, these women proclaim their love into a camera for the man they have only been introduced to a few weeks prior. They pretend to be the kindest, sweetest, selfless, down to earth girls the guy has ever laid eyes on. In reality, they are the most deceitful, evil little turds you will ever enjoy hating. They make each others lives hell fighting for this man. I can see right through that facade. They just want the fame and the money of this man to support their shopping addictions and mani pedis.

But there's always this one girl that stands out...
She sees the same things you do in the other girls..
She brings them to light and pokes fun at them..
She actually is a kind, down to earth person..
THIS IS THE GIRL YOU F*CKIN ROOT THE SH*T OUT OF!!!

SHES GONNA TAKE IT ALL!
AND SHE DOES! AND YOURE LAUGHING AND CHEERING AND SCREAMING AT THE TV!!
....then you realize what an ass you're making of yourself.

And your husband questions your sanity...
So you scold yourself for being another part of the dumb media craze...

Then you go blog about it because you can't help yourself.

Jimmy Kimmel does a great job of making fun of The Bachelor if you want to take a look.

Traditions.

A tradition is defined as "the transmission of customs and beliefs from generation to generation." My dad is this. He IS the definition of tradition. I look to my dad for all of my interests, because ours our one in the same. We like to eat. Try new things. Drink. Travel. The South. One tradition we have in particular you would probably laugh at. We do Mardi Gras in St. Louis. EVERY. YEAR. And we do it GOOD.
I mention it because this weekend will mark our 15th year going to the parade. It started just going to watch, then tailgating in parking lots, and then to actually being a part of it last year. We're doing things our normal way this year though, by tailgating again. My dad makes this awesome jambalaya, packed with tons of shrimp, chicken and andouille sasuage. I'll make beignets like the ones at Cafe Du Monde. Just like they do in New Orleans. Then he has his own special recipe for Bloody Mary's that he always makes way too spicy, so we keep warm. It's rare Mardi Gras actually happens to land on a warm weekend. Like this upcoming one (20 blood chilling degrees and will dropping all day long). Since my brother and I have became of age, he's also started to make a different cocktail every year. Hurricanes, Hand grenades and Jungle juice. He goes all out. We basically just have a party with everyone who wants to join and it feels like family. It's what I like most about the St. Louis area. Everyone is so open to each other and it feels like you are home. I'll be traveling with my husband all over the country in a few months and possibly the world, with him being in the Air Force, and I know how badly I'm going to miss being in this area. So even if its only once a year, just go crazy with the ones you love. Make it count. And make it a tradition.

Recipe for my fellow foodies.
http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/emeril-lagasse/cajun-jambalaya-recipe2.html

Does anyone else...

..have an evil genius for a child? I mean seriously, my son can be downright Evil to the point of me thinking "...there is no way in hell he is that smart, but there is no way in hell that was a coincidence.."

 He recently had a well baby checkup (he is 2, and a terrible 2 at that). I told the doctor "You know, I realize at this age, he is going to test his boundaries and want to explore his independence, yada yada .. But he can be so mean and angry at times. Is this normal?" She replied with, "Oh yeah. A lot of them can be that way, but you do realize what that means, don't you?" I shake my head, and start to think the worst. "That means they're extremely intelligent." Relief washes over me, but of course I question it with "How in the hell-?" " She said "They know EXACTLY how to manipulate you, push your buttons, yell and scream just the right amount to get anything that they want." Holy cow. This woman knows her shit. So, let me tell you just how "brilliant" my son is.

At home, my son annoys our cat. He is SO mean to this cat, that I am actually worried for her well being. Then, I don't feel so bad, because she goes right back to the abuse after saving her life every five minutes, the dummy. We are always telling him, "Don't hit, Gavin, Don't hit." "Don't hurt her." "Leave her alone.", so much that he has started to repeat it, sometimes even while pulling the poor things tail. He knows... He knows exactly what hes doing.

Thus, the story progresses to us shopping at the grocery store. While in the cart, he pulls things off the shelf he wants and will scream if I try to take it away. This time, he grabs the Chips Ahoy! Birthday Frosting filled cookies. Now I know for a fact, he will eat half of one, leave it in my shoe, then never eat another again. Which means I get tempted and eat the package by myself, and feel like a fatty for days. So I refuse. I take it away. Then, I have angered the beast. He wails. He screams, throws his fits. I don't concede. Then he pulls out the big guns. "Don't hit, Mommy!" I freeze in horror. "Don't hurt her, Mommy!"  At this point, everyone is looking at me in absolute disgust. Let me just say, I have NEVER laid a hand on my child that was meant in harm. I'm too soft and too much of a sucker for his cute little face to ever be mad at him. Unfortunately for me, he has figured that out.

Needless to say we walked (more like sprinted) out of that store, never to return, but also with those damn cookies. My son the evil genius..

Here's the culprits.