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Posts Tagged ‘this’

Wine & Chocolate event this weekend in Lodi is a celebration of art as well
Brenda Lindstrom, one of three female photographers visiting the area, talks the “zoo” and her photographic passion while preparing for a photography exhibit at the LangeTwins Winery for the Wine & Chocolate Weekend. (JENNIFER M.

Read more on Lodi News-Sentinel

Most restaurants in Humble are either Dairy Queens or attached to gas stations. I’m pretty sure the only real restaurant I’ve ever been to is the Rainforest Cafe in Houston, because my parents wanted to “treat” my sister and me. Mama and Daddy, sadly, fit the Texan sterotype perfectly. Die- hard Longhorn fans? Check. Cowboy boots in public? Check. Disgusting Texas accent? Yeah, you get the point. Luckily, most of their hick friends claim I’m “from a different planet.” Probably because I talk like a normal person, choose books over ESPN, and like my head cowboy hat- free. So when I was blessed the opportunity to go on a foreign- exchange program, I snapped it up. I had already expirienced enough Texan public- schools for a lifetime and Humble High School isn’t exactly Harvard. The second I signed up for living in London for a school year, I knew I made the righ choice. In London, people are actually somewhat respectable. They don’t listen to Kenny Chesney or get weekly perms or drink beer with their breakfast. The people in London are my kind of people. Plus, my host family owns a small record label and have two sons, one 14 and the other 15. I’ve talked to the 14 year old a few times over Facebook. His name is Thomas and he’s staying with my family. I doubt he will last three minutes. He comes from people with class, not… Texans. I know I seem like I’m hating on my own kind, but I’ve been dying to get out of Humble the second I arrived. I never belonged. But now, as i step out of my taxi to the equisite, five star London restaurant, I suddenly feel insignificant. I feel like a dirty little small town girl. I feel under- dressed. And for the first time since deciding on living in London for a year, I feel… Scared. Nervous. What if Rick and Emily don’t like me? What if I’ve had a Texan accent my whole life and I didn’t even know it? I tucked a loose blonde wave behind my ear, inhaled a shaky breath, and pushed open the restaurant door.
Suddenly, I was in a different universe. Piano music trickled from the private room, glasses clinked, and wine was poured from bottles priced at more than my mom’s car. Everyone I saw was beautiful. Everyone was elegant, poised, classy. I then realized I had been standing there staring and the host was giving me a dirty look.
“Can I help you?” he snarled, looking at me like I was dirt. His thin black moustache quivered and his beady black eyes scanned me suspiciously. He reminded me of a rat, but he was still the scariest person I had ever seen. Half of me wanted to giggle because I’ve never heard a real British accent before, and the other half wanted to run away. I straightened my back and cleared my throat.
“Yes sir, I’m supposed to be dining with the Thompsons?” It came out more like a question. His expression completely transformed.
“Oh! Of course! You must be Hanna! Yes! They… they mentioned… Yes! So sorry, right this way!” He scurried to the back room with me fast- walking to keep up. I was lead into a small, secluded area with few people. I immeadietly recognized Rick and Emily Thompson.
I had seen a picture of them before, but they were even more beautiful and powerful looking in person. They were the kind of people who had a hold on everyone they knew, and they loved it. I never felt so overwhelmed. I stepped up slowly.
“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Thompson… It’s me, um, Hanna”
Their heads slowly rose from their plates and peered at me as if to see if I was worthy of being in their presence. But when they recognized me, I felt much better. They stood up and each gave me a quick, loving embrace. Mrs. Thompson held my hands and shot me a dazzling grin.
“Hanna, you are even more beautiful in person. We have been so excited to meet you. And please” she said, waving her hand like she was shooing away a bug, “call me Emily.” Mr. Thompson stepped in.
“And please, call me Rick.” I weakly smiled at them. I’m pretty sure that’s the only thing I could do, just smile and nod. They were so overwhelmingly gorgeous. Emily’s dark brown hair contrasting with her deep green eyes, and Rick’s bone structure carved by the gods themselves. And their accents… better than I imagined. I sat down in the empty chair and they followed. I was suddenly shot question after question, as if it were an interview. They did not seem to want to talk about themselves, they wanted every detail of my life. “What is Texas like?” “How is the school there?” “What languages have you studied?”
I answered each as calmly as I possibly could. It went on for a while, until I realized their champagne being refilled at a startling pace. I could sense them starting to let loose. They laughed a little louder, asked stranger questions, and their words ran together. I felt embarassed for the poor couple. They must be so ashamed for getting intoxicated on our first meeting. I
felt embarassed for the poor couple. They must be so ashamed for getting intoxicated on our first meeting. I laughed nervously at everything they said. Finally, the bill came. I felt relived. I was excited to get home and go to sleep. Rick and Emily hailed a cab and stumbled in, drunkenly laughing at something I didn’t even want to know. I leaned against the window and took it all in. The city lights, the people walking the streets after a party, the cars zooming by. It was uncomprehenable. Suddenly, the car jolted. I waited for them to get out first. They saw my unsure look and laughed.
“Oh! We’re dropping you off! We have a party tonight at a friends house, so sorry. But Charles is home, he can keep you company.” slurred Rick. I felt myself being escored out of the cab. Suddenly, I arrived at the most breathtakinly beautiful building I had ever seen. I stood in awe of its magnificant archetecture when I realized I eventually had to go inside.
I strolled up the steps and knocked on the door. No answer. As I was about to knock again the door was flung open, and the person who opened it was already walking away with a phone attached to his ear. What the heck? Yeah, hello to you too. I craned my neck, trying to see his face.
“Uhh hi?” I said questionably. He pointed up his finger as if to say one second and quickly chattered into his phone. I sighed and closed the door. I took this as a chance to take it all in. There was a majestic staircase to my right, and a sitting area to my left. A large chandelier dangled above my head. I gazed at every detail of the house. Suddenly, I heard mystery man’s phone snap shut. He came towards me. My heart stopped. His dark brown hair was disgruntled, his bone structure was unreal, and his eyes were so green i had to look away. I was in the presence of a god. He tossed me a grin that knocked me off my feet and extended his hand.
I was in a daze. I limply put my hand in his and he squeezed mine. I almost died.
“You must be Hanna? I’m Charlie. Sorry about my parents… they have a party like every night and they tend to put those first.”
I’m pretty sure my mouth was agape and drool was pooling at my feet. I bit my lip and giggled. He strolled into the kitchen, grabbed an apple, and tossed it in the air. “So,” he started “How are you liking London?”
I smiled. “I adore it!” That’s all I could muster out. He smiled back at me
“You have yourself a lil’ Texas accent!”
I gasped audibly and covered my mouth. He chuckled. “No! It’s cute! I like it! It’s different!”
I sighed a little. Charlie bit into the apple and asked me a few questions. I was barely paying attention. All I could comprehend was that i was talking to the most amazing human being I had ever seen and he was smiling at me like I was amusing him. I yawned, exhausted. Charlie quickly rose.
“I’m sorry! You’re probably still recovering from jetlag! Okay, I’ll let you go sleep and I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”
I didn’t want to leave that spot, but I lifted myself up and ascended the stairs. From the kitchen I heard Charlie calling back whoever he had been talking to. I paused, knowing I shouldn’t.
“Yeah… Well… She’s younger than me… I mean she’s pretty but she’s… Yeah, she’s cute… She kept smiling at me in this really goofy way… I just don’t see her like that… No… Maybe after I get to know her..?”
I had heard enough. Okay, so he thought I was “cute”. At least he didn’t think I was ugly! So there was still hope… right?

Learn to cook, stalk a stag or just sit back at this Scottish hotel
Tom Lewis, the chef behind Mhor, instructs his students on how to shuck an oyster and filet a fish and prepare them for a delicious lunch.

Read more on North Shore News

A dash of this, a splash of that: Keep holiday cocktails from going high-cal
BERKELEY, Calif. – Can cocktails and calorie-counting mix? Up to a point, say diet experts and mixologists, but you have to keep a close eye on exactly what and how much is going into your glass.

Read more on Brandon Sun

What the Doctor Ordered This Christmas: Glass Pickle Jars and Bottles of Fizz!
As lots of cupboards will be brimming with many treats in glass jars and bottles at this time of year, it’s good to know that glass isn’t just endlessly recyclable, it’s best for our health too.

Read more on PR Newswire via Yahoo! Finance

I’ve been working on this first chapter on a book, you dont have to read the WHOLE thing but if you’d read some and critique I’d be so thankful. I’m just wondering if its good enough for a literary agent to read and enjoy, thank you!

A not so Happy Fathers Day

Ch 1

“Happy Fathers Day Mr. Whitlock,” the Sous Chef of Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse greeted personally.

Kent looked up only with his dark green eyes to give his response to the world renowned chef. “Chateau Margaux 1995,” Kent ordered flawlessly.

“Of course, I remember your father ordering that. Would you like anything to-,”

“Just the drink,” Kent cut him off forcefully.

“Right,” he nodded.

Kent gazed around the room, and as usual everyone was staring at him. He was used to this type of attention but certainly didn’t enjoy it. His father Kenneth Whitlock used to be the most prestigious real estate tycoon in Los Angeles. He designed and built several Hollywood homes, many of which were custom made for celebrities.

With Kenneth’s photo posted all over Hollywood, the Whitlock family had become something of celebrities themselves. If Kent ever made a rare appearance in a Hollywood night club or restaurant, it would be on the front page of the newspaper the next day. His male model looks didn’t seem to hurt either.

Kent loosened his Hugo Boss white tie a little bit to take some of the edge off of the eyes beginning to pierce through him. Couldn’t they stare at something else? Normally it didn’t faze him one bit, but he knew they weren’t just staring because of his presence there.

About a month ago Kenneth Whitlock had a heart attack and passed away unexpectedly. He was only fifty two years old and had left his son with everything, which was more of a burden than it seemed. While Kent was quite knowledgeable in real estate, the business of running the company his father built from the ground was a lot of pressure for a twenty four year old that had never worked a day in his life. Losing his father had left him numb and regretful, and today on Fathers Day he wanted to somehow reconcile with himself by dining at his dads favorite restaurant, but it seemed to be having the opposite effect.

Kent realized that by coming here alone on Fathers Day he was just torturing himself, and all he wanted to do now was immerse himself in the light-weight black cherry flavor of the wine he was now impatiently waiting for. Finally, for what seemed like hours, the waitress arrived. In attempt to avoid more stares, Kent had become immersed in his Blackberry and didn’t bother looking up.

“Here you go Sir,” the woman carefully poured the bottle of wine into a glass. Out of the corner of his eye Kent could see a flash of dark red tendrils floating over the table.

“It’s such a nice day today, perfect Fathers Day weather,” the waitress babbled on while pouring. As she leaned forward her hair brushed Kent’s wrist, and she tucked it behind her ear.

“I haven’t seen this place so busy since- oh no! Oh crap!” she shrieked as the large bottle toppled out of her hands. The nearly black liquid spilled onto Kent’s white tie and onto his Blackberry instantly breaking it. That certainly caused him to look up.

“I am so sorry!” the waitress apologized over and over. She pulled a dish towel out of her apron and desperately tried to clean the mess.

Kent was just about to express his irritation, but became too dumbfounded to speak, and it wasn’t just from the cold drink. Kent continued to study her as panic glimmered throughout her eyes. Unlike most redheads she had sun kissed skin and only a few freckles that dotted her slim arms. He wondered what nationality she was, and if her deep auburn hair color was natural. It reminded him of autumn.

“Erica!” the Sous Chef tore off across the room, as if he was about to attack her. If only half the room was staring before, now everyone was looking straight at Kent, or at least it seemed that way.

“Do you realize you just spilled a thousand dollar bottle of wine all over one of our most favored clients?” he hissed as if he was about to attack her.

“I..,” the nearly in tears waitress attempted.

“You are an idiot. Don’t even think about getting paid this week, it’s coming out of your paycheck.”

“But you don’t even pay me that much!” she protested almost laughing.

“Get out of my sight,” he replied waving her off. “My deepest apologies Mr. Whitlock, the girl is a complete dimwit. Would you like another bottle Sir? It is on us of course.”

Kent hardly heard him as he followed the girl with his eyes.

“Mr. Whitlock?” the Chef repeated.

“No thank you,” Kent stood up from his seat not making eye contact with the Ch

I posted it not too long ago and I realized it needed A LOT of work. I feel it still does so I’m asking for any critique you’d like to give, grammar, tenses (thats my biggest challenge), or if you just want to say if its good enough to keep on reading. I REALLY appreciate it but please keep it cordial, constructive comments only please, thanks!

A not so Happy Fathers Day

Ch 1

“Welcome Mr. Whitlock,” the Maitre De of Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse greeted Kent personally. “I am deeply sorry for the loss you recently suffered. Your father Kenneth was one of our most valued customers at our restaurant.

“Thank you,” Kent replied as he averted his green eyes. He hated this whole spectacle of the Maitre De greeting him, even if he meant well.

“Is there anything in particular you’d like today? I’m sure you are aware we will prepare it even if it is not on the menu.

“Thank you. Just Chateau Margaux 1995 please,” Kent ordered flawlessly.

“Of course, I remember your father ordering the same wine, and what about something to eat?”

“Just the drink please,” Kent replied in a rush to get drunk.

“Right,” the Maitre de nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.

Kent gazed around the room, and as usual everyone was staring at him.

“Goodness, I can’t believe he is out like this by himself, and on Father’s Day,” a woman sitting across the room in a tweed Chanel suit whispered to her friend.

“That whole real estate company is going crash with that kid running the show,” a man sitting two tables away claimed not so discreetly.

Kent self consciously pushed back a strand of black hair that fell in his face. He was used to people talking about him or his father, but today all he wanted to do was block it out. As much as he wanted to honor his dad by going out on Father’s Day, he was now having regrets and just wanted to go home.

Kenneth Whitlock used to be the most prestigious real estate tycoon in Los Angeles. He designed and built several Hollywood homes, many of which were custom made for celebrities. With Kenneth’s photo posted all over Hollywood, the Whitlock family had become something of celebrities themselves. If Kent ever made an appearance in a Hollywood night club or restaurant, it would be on the front page of the newspaper the next day. His male model looks didn’t seem to hurt either.

About a month ago Kenneth Whitlock had a heart attack and passed away unexpectedly. He was only fifty two years old and had left his son with everything, which was more of a burden than it seemed. While Kent was quite knowledgeable in real estate, the business of running the company his father built from the ground was a lot of pressure for a twenty four year old that had never worked a day in his life. Losing his father still felt surreal, and today on Fathers Day he wanted to somehow reconcile with himself by dining at his dads favorite restaurant, but it seemed to be having the opposite effect.

He loosened his Hugo Boss white tie a little bit to try and relieve the tension he felt, but with all eyes piercing through him it wasn’t working. All he wanted to do was immerse in the light-weight black cherry flavor of the wine that he was now waiting impatiently for. Finally, for what seemed like hours, the waitress arrived. In an attempt to avoid more stares, Kent began sending text messages on his Blackberry and didn’t bother looking up.

“Here you go Sir,” she said as she carefully poured the bottle of wine into a glass. Out of the corner of his eye Kent could see gorgeous dark red tendrils of hair floating above the table.

“It’s such a nice day today, perfect Fathers Day weather,” the waitress babbled on while pouring. As she leaned forward her hair brushed his wrist, and she tucked it behind her ear.

“I haven’t seen this place so busy since- oh no! Oh crap!” she shrieked as the large bottle toppled out of her hands. The nearly black liquid spilled onto Kent’s white tie and onto his Blackberry instantly breaking it. That certainly caused him to look up.

“I am so sorry!” the waitress apologized over and over. She pulled a dish towel out of her apron and desperately tried to clean the mess.

Kent was just about to express his irritation, but became too dumbfounded to speak, and it wasn’t just from the cold drink. He continued to study her as panic glimmered throughout her eyes. Unlike most redheads, she had sun kissed skin and only a few freckles that dotted her slim arms. He wondered what nationality she was, and if her deep auburn hair color was natural. It reminded him of autumn.

“Erica!” a manager tore off across the room bright red with anger. If only half of the room was staring before, now everyone was looking.

“Do you realize you just spilled a thousand dollar bottle of wine all over one of our most favored clie

Restaurant review, Laili: Follow the yellow Silk Road to this hidden treasure
An unpretentious door on Cooper Street leads to one of Santa Cruz’s most beautiful new restaurants. CeCe and I entered Laili and stood amazed at the sheer size of the room.

Read more on Santa Cruz Sentinel

Sulfite Free Organic Wine, Biodynamic and Organically Grown Wines from EcoVine Wine are a Natural Gift this Holiday!
Looking for that organic holiday gift that is personal and universal, appreciated and fun? Holiday shoppers are turning to EcoVine Wine for organic, vegan and biodynamic wine, wine club and wine-related accessories to round out their seasonal shopping this year. EcoVine Wine is a natural choice for organic wine and wine club gifts. (PRWeb December 07, 2010) Read the full story at [[[SHIFTOUT …

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Thanksgiving services abound this week on Staten Island
STATEN ISLAND, N.Y. — The spiritual aspect of gratitude is explored in the Thanksgiving theme services planned for the next several days on Staten Island.      PEACE POLE Building Bridges Connecting All Of Humanity is holding an interfaith Thanksgiving celebration…

Read more on Staten Island Advance