Mac-ing on Suite, Greek Food

Adam MacMilliam, sometimes called MacDaddy (probably out of self promotion), has claimed my sister as wife. Making a two into one household. She goes from P. Murph to MacPatti.

Maybe P. Mac..?

Not sure yet. 

Up for debate. 

I mean, it’s only been a couple of days since I blotched that signature as witness on their wedding certificate. While the priest intently watched. In the house of the Lord. 

The ceremony where Patricia Anne Murphy became Patricia Anne MacMillan was straight up traditional Roman Catholic. Pretty self explanatory by the sight of her name. 

And after the ceremony her name changed to slightly Greek Orthodox. 

There was a bunch of crap food housed in the hospitality suite for all the post-wedding madness. The leftovers are now housed in the Murphy House. 

One being “Naked Pita Chips.” Simply delightful. They are “suite.” 

In my father’s toast he reflected on his bitter suite-ness of my sister leaving our family. Starting a new chapter. Changing names. But as he continued, he told wedding guests, “…as Patti reminded me, I’m not losing a daughter but gaining a computer specialist.”

My father went into the fridge today to collect dip for the fantastic toasted chips and saw hummus and feta cheese. Proclaiming “now that we have a Greek in the family, we’re eating hummus, and pita and, well, Greek.”

A little Greek in our Irish house. It suits me well. It’s hospitable. Makes life sweet. 

Now we need a little of the computer geek in our house. So that my internet connection stays on long enough to post cheesy blogs. 

 Toast. Cheers.

Say (Feta) Cheese.

Racing Mind

Before heading to San Diego for the annual, national dietetics conference I got a call from a freelance writer slash reporter from Web MD who was covering the nutrition findings presented.

After she read (and followed) the beneficial findings of coffee, she excitedly called me to talk about my study and way to improve her race-as she was participating in the LA half marathon.  

She called while I was en route to a coffeehouse to prepare for my nutrition presentation and I was excited to talk to her too-even before the coffee hit my lips.

The explanation of my study to the interviewer was probably the best way to prepare. It resurfaced all the hours I had spent in coffeehouses writing and researching my thesis. And all the coffee I drank.  

2 hours for each morning, fasted participant trial, 2 trials for each participant, 11 participants, lots of coffee for me. 

And that’s not including their orientation visits.

As I anticipated, at the end of the interview, the reporter asked if I was a runner and if I used my findings to enhance my performance.

My answer? “Not a competitive one. And I can’t get behind the taste of beetroot…although; I could go for an alternative spinach salad before a heavy workout.” No one can call me dishonest.

I figured watching hours of participants running, drinking copious amounts of coffee and being on high alert stress mode was exhausting enough. Felt like a half marathon anyways…?

…And what better way to conclude the excitement but in the sunny, sea salted airs of San Diego. While eating anti-inflammatory omega three loaded sushi. And walking along the bay. With a cup of coffee in hand.