4 avocados
2 tomatoes
1 jalapeno pepper
1 red onion
1 lime
1 dash of black pepper
1 really cute boyfriend
3 aunts that will watch you make guacamole with previously mentioned cute boyfriend
1 mother (your own preferably).
Directions: Bring your boyfriend home to meet the family the weekend before you make this dish. Your family will be surprised since you haven’t brought someone home since, well, you know who. Your boyfriend will be nervous. That’s normal. Calm him by promising him lots of beer and the option to sneak away to get the best ice cream in the Midwest.
Next, your family will love the boyfriend and invite him to another function. Be all adult and scream: We’ll even bring a dish to pass! Knowing you’ve never really brought anything to pass to a family party because, well, you’ve never had the interest to do so, but now aforementioned boyfriend makes you want to bring dishes to pass to family members.
On the drive home, realize you’re not the best cook and hit your forehead while saying: What was I thinking?
That week, discover that you and the boyfriend make a mean guacamole for his insanely blow-the-minds-of-nuns fajitas. Announce: We will make guacamole for the party. He will agree.
At the party, carry in a bag of ingredients to make the guacamole fresh. The ingredients can be from any store, but some stores have cuter bags so you look more hip when you’re walking in to the party.
Have your mom say: What are you making? Respond with a proud: We are going to make guacamole. Really hit that ‘we’ when you say it. You should be proud that you have a we that will come to another family function to impress your family.
Force your aunts to say: Wow! From scratch? And nod proudly to show that you are a twenty-seven year old adult that can cut and mash things.
Now here’s the tricky part. You and the boyfriend are going to have to be naturally work as a team. He should cut the tomatoes while you are scooping out the avocado. Then he should ask you how much onion and you will laugh at him when he starts crying and pretends that he’s sobbing harder than he is because, well he looks cute. But the tricky part is to have your mom and aunts notice how real your relationship together is.
You will catch their smiles when you compliment your boyfriend for his fine chopping skills. You will hear their laughs when he uses a Julia Child accent to dice the jalapeno pepper. You will see your mom tilt her head and admire that her son is in love with a great guy.
This may be the first time you ever see your mom do this. Be prepared because you will pretend that the onion is making your eyes water, but it’s going to be your family.
Serve the guacamole with chips on the patio by the pool. Your family will compliment the dish and say: This is what you both should bring to every family function. This is your guy’s dish! It’s perfect!
When you hear this, sit by your boyfriend and let his foot brush on your foot while under the table.
Secret Ingredient: Realize that you are a pretty damn lucky to have this guy and that family.

I’m heading to this coffee place that’s so tucked around the corner of my neighborhood that tucked should mean hidden in the same place socks disappear to in dryers.
It’s like one of those joints you wouldn’t even know existed unless you lived in the area for years and got tired of going to the same places.
I walk in half asleep because that’s where I’ve been lately without coffee( I promised myself never to be one of those people who say they’re still half asleep because they haven’t had their coffee yet because, you know, it always seemed like an excuse people made when they weren’t, well, awake. Now, I do it and it makes sense. I’m not proud of it, but it makes sense).
And all I hear is French.
I’m not joking. Everyone in the room is speaking French. The table of four near the window? French. The young hip couple sitting behind them? French. The group of teenagers wearing Converse? French! French! FRENCH!
Without coffee this is terrifying.
“Um. Uh… what’s going on?” I ask the blond Barista who’s seen my morning hair a lot messier than today.
“I don’t know. They all just showed up in a huge group at one time.”
We both survey the room. The twenty tables are filled with a variety of French speaking people. Young. Old. This really modelesque looking brunette is throwing her head back and laughing at something this good-looking guy just said to her in French. It’s like a commercial.
“Maybe it’s a tour group?” I say while handing over my credit card.
“I’m pretty sure this place isn’t a tour guide, though?” The Barista shrugs while handing me my coffee.
I was going to work at home, but for some reason I wanted to stay surrounded by words I didn’t understand. I sat in the corner, pulled out my notebook and wrote while listening to accents flash through the room.
It reminds me of this time in Belize where I was sitting in a local bar made of a straw roof and no windows. A breeze that felt like someone had turned on a stove and took a fan to it’s heat blew through the space while the beer I held dripped condensation as if I had just dipped it in to a pool of water. I was there vacationing from life back in Chicago– a desperate need to get from the same places and try to see if I could understand what my next step in life was to be while miles away from home.
The locals in the bar were speaking Creole and I attempted to pick up a few words, but the blurring of conversations almost turned in to white noise. It was strange to feel alone in a place not even close to empty. At the same time it was exciting. It’s in those times, when you realize there will be a lot of things you just won’t truly understand because it’s in a language you don’t speak, where you realize how big the world is no matter how small the bar… or how small the coffee shop.
Something I always try to remember, but forget, is that no matter how much you think you understand about life, there will always be something that just throws you for a loop. Whether it’s French people in the world’s smallest coffee shop or not knowing our next steps; some things are going to just seem out of sorts no matter how hard you try to translate it all.
That’s life. Or how the French say…

“Introduce yourself with your name, favorite thing about grammar, and what band you’re addicted to right now.” Says the young guy leading the group who’s wearing thick rimmed glasses, tight jeans and has a voice that squeaks like screen doors.
The guy: I’m Garret. I like split infinitives and I’m really in to The Doves.
The girl: I’m Shelly. I like semi-colons because people never know how to use them. I’m in to Imogen Heap.
The obvious gay guy: My name is Matt. I adore masculine pronouns, and I’m, like, totally addicted to anything Beyonce. Anything.