A Pizza Adventure

For those who don't know, I have allergies that make me borderline vegan.  Besides the fact that I can have beef, pork, and some other animals, I have to stay away from dairy, poultry, seafood, and many more!  People ask me why I don't carry an epi-pen, but I just tell them that I like living on the edge *wink wink*. But, really one should always carry an epi-pen with these kind of allergies.

This past weekend, the boyfriend and I planned on having a nice, relaxing evening making our own pizzas and renting a redbox movie. Of course, I have to get a special type of vegan cheese, so we stop by Whole Foods to purchase this item as well as pizza dough straight from the bakery. I'm a little weary about the dough, but really how hard can it be making a crust from almost scratch?

My boyfriend and I enter Whole Foods and pick up the dough from the bakery as the workers explaining the simplicity of it all, and I'm excited that this will be fresher than your average Boboli crust sitting in plastic at your local Walmart with a 20-year shelf life. Then, we make our way to the vegan cheese. I will give you a short background on vegan cheese.

A lot of the cheese substitute that you see at the regular grocery store is vegetarian cheese. It is mostly made of soy, but it still has a milk product called casein in it.  That does me no good (*remember death*)!  So, I have to make a trek to either Whole Foods or Krogers by my apartments. There is no guarantee that it will be there, since the brand I use, Daiya, is rated highest with vegans in texture and taste.  I did a lot of research before I even bought it, and there are so many times I am let down by a depleted shelf and an apologetic stock boy.

Well...I slowly walk up to the vegan cheese aisle, and I see it!  It's there with a glowing aura of fake, cheesy glory!  I get so excited I raise my arms up and squeal in delight.  The stock boy in front of me moves to the side quickly, and Mitchell says, "You scared him." I quickly snap back from my mini-celebration and say, "No, I didn't." I look over at the stockboy who has moved over to the corner and ask, "Did I scare you?" He looks up at me with fearful eyes and in the tiniest voice replied, "Just a little."  This time, I was the one apologizing.



A reenactment of the look and squeal that startled the stockboy



 So, we go home and try really hard to make a nice crust for the pizza.  Check out Mitchell's great form:


He really looks like he knows what he's doing!



Unfortunately, this is the best we could do.



So, we ended up buying the pre-made crust, and it was utterly delicious. See below.

 All's well that ends well, and the moral of the story is that stockboys scare easily!  Save the celebration dance for the parking lot or your super-stoned, rastafarian cashier. Also, avocadoes make everything taste better! Later, duuuuude.

 




Real-Life Gag Reel

I wish I could have a gag reel of all the dumb things I do. I have these days when nothing will stay in my hands. The laws of gravity seem to mock me, as I walk across the street with my boyfriend and show him my planner. When I open it, it jumps out of my small hands and I make an “ACHHHH” noise like a strangled cat. But, I have the reflexes of one, too, as I catch it midair before it falls. The look that passes between us is “whoah” and what noise just came out of your throat?

 We continue on our walk and enter the Houston Tunnel System specifically the One Allen Center.  I see my boss walking towards me with another coworker, and I wave to them with the hand that holds my blue dum-dum lollipop.  The lollipop flings out of my hand and into the air in front of them landing and shattering to pieces on the floor. 

“That lollipop committed suicide!” My coworker exclaims and all I can do is laugh like a crazed, embarrassed lunatic. Did I do that??? *snoooort*

So…the last thing on my gag reel would be getting into my car at the end of the day with my boyfriend in the passenger seat.  I have been listening to Shakira’s “La Tortura” ad nauseum, and I told him that I choreographed it in my head.  So, I start shimmying and reliving some of my old belly dancing moves, while we are in back-to-back Houston traffic.  I start to really get into it, and I’m moving my hands to the left and turning my head and switching with my hands to the right, and then shimmy shimmy there and then tiny little car hip gyrations. As I dance back to the left, a white truck slowly rolls forward and a guy has a smile frozen on his face with his camera phone out pointing right at me.  We absolutely die laughing.

 

Bad Reception

My name is Twee Vu and I am a goofball. *pausing for any other goofballs or AA meeting people saying hello back to their computer screens*

In fact, my friends have coined the phrase "to pull a twee" which means to create a small accident or mishap. So, of course, my first blog has to be about those tiny blunders also known as "pulling a twee".

First Story: The guests had arrived for a meeting with one of our senior managers, and his assistant said he was not in the office. I asked her politely to please call me back when she reaches him, because I needed to know what to communicate to the guests. I get a call back about a minute later, and she verifies that he is on the way. Now, this manager is Mr. Suave, Mr. Cool, Mr. Bond. We often refer to him as a movie star, since he is extremely charming and "on" at all times.
He greets his people, "How ya doing everyone?" Then, he pivots, opens the door for his guests, and then tilts his head backwards to ask me, "Twee, how you doing today?"  

An hour later, he drops them off. As soon as they got in the elevator, he gave me a funny look and said, "I forgot about that appointment."   To which I replied, "I could tell, but don't worry I kept it really cool down here..." Then, I gave him a matching smooth, confident, millionaire smile.

He looked at me for a moment and then left the room. I was thinking, "Yeah, I didn't miss a beat either, Mr. Cool."  I picked up my mirror to casually glance at the "proud of myself" smirk, and there was a fluffy piece of popcorn on my upper lip.
 (Later, my boyfriend will tell me not to worry, since he probably thought it was just a booger)

Second Story: My coworker was signing a birthday card and I asked her to whom it was addressed. She said it was for our friend Darla whom I adore! She and her husband chat me up while I'm waiting for the elevators practically every day, and they're just so cute. So, I wrote on her card, "I hope that Ted gets you diamonds and chocolates for your birthday! Have a fabulous one!!! - Twee". Then, I smugly close the card and read the front which has an old turtle golfing and some nonsense about getting old and feeling like an old fart. Wait, Darla's not THAT old...and I don't remember her liking golf. The card is kind of masculine... Then, I read the envelope that is inscribed to my coworker "Hector" NOT "Darla". Woops! I don't know what Hector would think if he read my birthday greeting...I am sure he's married to a woman whose name isn't "Ted".  Instant panic! How do I erase this mistake. So, I thanked the lord that the card was white as I pulled out the whiteout and blanked out everything that would incriminate Hector of having a gay lover named Ted, and kept the one phrase "Have a fabulous one!!!". A little flamboyant, but not nearly as bad. Crisis averted, mission accomplished. 

Anyway, what would your phrase-ism be?  "To pull a Rachel or To pull a Judy"...what would it entail?  You probably already know what your friends would say about you! There is even a secondary explanation of "pulling a Twee". It involves going home and changing your whole outfit during lunch.  If you ever did that, you pulled a me! How are YOU ridiculously unique? How can I "pull a you"? :)  Good times blogging...TTYL pals.

p.s. shout out to Rachel Bray and Darcy Wild for their bloggy inspiration and advice!