S.L. Naeole's Blog, page 12

Congratulations PS22!

 

So something pretty awesome happened this month to the fabulous kids of the PS22 Chorus.  They were named Webby Artist of the Year!  It's pretty phenomenal, and I'm so ecstatic for these kids and their fabulous teacher, Gregg Breinberg (aka: Mr. B). 

A little PS22 this Friday

I'm a huge fan of these kids and their teacher.  Listen to these kids take what is a fantastic song by the Pretenders and turn it into audio heaven.  There's a reason why they call it harmony.  These kids can make you feel it in spades.

Recipe of the Week: Butter Mochi

Recipes in blogs seem to be all the rage, and as someone who loves to cook and bake, I thought I'd start sharing some of my favorites with you.  Today's recipe is a classic here in Hawai'i, and a staple at just about any gathering.  With a slightly crispy top layer, followed by a creamy custardy second, and then finished with the chewy mochi bottom, Butter Mochi is always one of the first things to go from the pupu table. 

Food for Thought

I'm a product of the 80's.  I grew up watching the Autobots take down the Decepticons time and time again, and GI Joe proved that knowing is half the battle.  Papa Smurf could always be counted on, David the Gnome was still alive, and Alex P. Keaton was a cuddly Republican. 

Haiku

 

Heaven never waits

Humble is the plumeless bird

Shallow is its mate

I've been hit...on

I've been married for a long...LONG time.  By Hollywood's standards, I've been married since before dirt existed.  I'm the quintessential ball & chain, the old lady, the better half.

If you don't know what all of that means, let me make it clear: It means I've been out of the dating pool since before we knew what a Britney Spears was.

Big Girl Panties

A long, long time ago, I used to hate being called names.  I mean, I was like a name-calling magnet when I was a kid.  I had a huge forehead, a large, quite obvious birthmark just left of center on said forehead, and I was skinny as hell.  I looked like a bobble-headed Olive Oyl with a target on her face.

Veni, Vidi, Virus

{jcomments on}

After over a week of being iller than a zombie on an all-celebrity brain diet, I'm feeling much better.  Of course, during that time, I've been at a complete loss for what to say, write, or do.  My brain seems to have this auto-off function and until today, I haven't really been able to turn it back on.

The C-Word

 

The birth of a novel always starts in the writer's mind.  Sometimes it's the result of two great ideas copulating to form the perfect story.  Sometimes it's a miraculous conception, surely to go down as the messiah of...something.  (Hopefully not book burning, but that's cool, too.  Fire!  Fire!)  But whatever the method, the moment it begins, you're excited, scared, anxious; but most of all, you're motivated.

The Magic of YA

 

When I was a kid oh so many eons ago, the term "Young Adult" wasn't what it is today.  "Young Adult" used to be that mysterious place between being old enough to work at McDonalds and not quite old enough to drink alcohol (legally).