Absence and Secret Behavior: Cherry-Coconut Oatmeal

Finally finished touring this week and so I'm throwing up one of my favorite posts from the archives as I just haven't had time to write anything. The next week or two will be a little crazy so we'll see what happens with the posts so please bear with me. Hope you all have a lovely turkey day! Remember to keep Melt in mind for your holiday shopping!  ~Garrett

-We all have our little secret habits.-

Fiance is out for the weekend for his duty with the Army Reserves - an overnighter that he's not sure of the purpose of but that he is unequivocally required to attend. He was up around four in the morning this Saturday dressed in full camo with rucksack slung over his shoulder. He pecked me goodbye and reminded me that, yes, four am was something that existed and that he would be back late Sunday night. Then off he went while I drifted back to sleep.

And what a wonderful sleep it was.

It may sound a little terrible, but I love his reserve duty weekends that include an overnighter or require him to get up so early in the morning that it can barely be justifiably called morning.

-See? Sounds terrible. No loving mate should say such a thing regardless of how true it is.-

But then again it's hard for me to argue with the fact that I get the entire bed all to myself. After all, there's something to be said for sprawling. Tonight I won't have to share the covers with anyone but the cats and they don't complain when I spindle the sheets around myself into a fluffy cocoon of fleece, down, and flannel. No stray elbows are going to knock into my ribs and cause me to wake up with strange indigo bruises of somnambu-happenstance. And, though I adore him, Fiance's snoring is often mistaken for semi trucks downshifting on a highway, which, as you can imagine, doesn't make sleeping easy. Or feasible.

So yes; I slept well last night and I will sleep even better tonight.

Cookbook Proposal Advice + Delightful Oatmeal Cookies

-To fuel you in your writing. Also, because.-

Stephanie and I were lucky that we had friends who could guide us through the proposal process when we first conceived of Melt. With their advice and a bit of our own innovation we crafted a successful document that had publishers fighting to purchase the rights to the book.

So what are some key elements to a phenomenal cookbook proposal? Well, organization is key, as is knowing your audience, communicating a clear and focused topic, and having a good sampling of tested recipes that represent your cookbook. (In case, someone at the publisher does decide to test a recipe.)

Since starting the tour I've been getting asked advice on putting together a proposal. It's a long conversation to have but below are three important aspects to consider. I feel giving these items attention will assist significantly and get publishers jazzed for what you have to offer.

Hooking Up with Seattle: Pumpkin Stuffed with Fontina, Sausage, and Macaroni

-Welcome to Seattle. Please proceed to get down.-

It is wet in Seattle right now. It is also cold. Neither of these things bode well to me and I am outside of my comfort zone as it feels like Northern California January right now and I'm just not ready for that. Add in the fact that two days ago I was wearing shorts and flip-flops in Los Angeles' 76 degree weather and my body is just wracked with loads of whattheeffisallthiscrazy?

Seriously, I will slap someone until fire comes out if this isn't resolved.

Seattle and I have a rather intriguing relationship. We're like old hookups who still enjoy getting together every so often. They're filled with indulgent behavior, fine meals, and tawdry nights out that result in stories I only share in person after I'm about three glasses in (consequently, three glasses in brings us back to another story about Seattle).

Romance and Ice Cream

I was walking around Aliso Viejo tonight - another one of Orange County's truly upper class cities where the number of police per capita is competing for the nationwide high and it where distinguishing your white Prius in a forty acre parking lot packed with countless other white Priuses (Priusi?) requires a divining rod - and walked passed an older couple exchanging sweet words. I only caught a bit of what they said, but essentially he was asking if she wanted to get serious or dive backing the dating pool. She laughed and he smiled and I gather she seemed somewhat smitten. I glanced back and saw the embrace and all was perfect in the world for them, and I suppose by extension the rest of us as well for what is happiness if not contagious?

Not far from that very spot I realized that I once had a rather lovely kiss. I was on a date with a boy from another school, a set-up to be honest and one in the summer following my senior year. I couldn't tell you his name if you waved a blank check in my face, but I can tell you he wore a black leather jacket with a powder blue cotton hood as his left canine was slightly snaggled in way that made his smile beyond endearing. A mutual friend had insisted we meet up and we both had agreed. 

It was 2001; social media didn't really exist yet and dating sites were still a place where only the lonely or the crazy-stalker-murderers went to find love (or a victim in the case of the latter). In addition, being gay was still taboo, especially if you were eighteen in Orange County where conservative republicanism runs rampant and 100,000 parishioner-strong MegaChurches are the norm. Meeting another gay person who lived openly (I didn't at the time) was unicorn rare. A set-up was perfectly acceptable and likely the only option for high-schoolers at the time.