Storytellers: Jen Osterday

If you have read any of the Anne of Green Gables series, you know that Anne has a phrase for that certain kind of person you meet and become fast friends with. They are the “kindred spirits.”

Jen Osterday is one of my kindred spirits. Someone with whom I share so much. We met six summers ago when we both interned for the Features department of the Dayton Daily News. In the years that followed we have shared faith, friendship, and of course… food.

I am honored to have seen Jen accomplish so much. In the time I have known her, she has finished two degrees, become a real life journalist, and started her very own foodie blog.

Jen is one of those once-in-a-lifetime people. Someone who sets her mind upon something, and hurtles toward her goals with unwavering confidence and dedication.

I am blessed by your friendship, Jen… and I am thrilled to share your talent with others!
___

Emma giggled in amazement as I finished my burger, licking my finger tips in satisfaction.

I suppose seeing a 100 pound, 5’2 girl finish off a Bacon Cheddar Double at Johnny Rocket’s was quite a feat. I mean, it was a big burger for such a small girl.

However, I was not amazed at my victorious finish. I was just really happy about that delicious combination of hamburger with applewood smoked bacon, cheddar cheese, and whatever else they piled on there with that special sauce.

I remember that day distinctly, even though it was probably 8 or 9 years ago.  It was my birthday and Emma had joined me to celebrate in Cincinnati. I think the reason that birthday sticks out to me is because of 4 reasons.

1) I was outside of Dayton, exploring a new city. I love to travel and any birthday that involves stepping outside of Dayton and enjoying a new place is a top notch way to celebrate in my book. Back then, Cincinnati was a big city and a big deal to me.

2) I was with my family. Family has always been important to me and I love my parents and  brother. 

3) I was with my closest friend, Emma. I have known Emma since Kindergarden and we still keep in touch today. She began traveling a lot when she got older and subsequently got a lot busier. If you know Emma, you know she’s a busy lady. So recalling a time when Emma and I get to spend a day together for my birthday is very special.

4) I was eating a delicious burger. Of course I’ll remember that.

I know I was young, because my parents had to drive us. Although I can’t remember exactly what age I was turning. Because it was my birthday, I’m sure that’s why I ordered a massive burger to celebrate.

Johnny Rockets has since lost its magic, but I know back then I thought it was more than just a fancier version of Steak ‘N Shake. People were rolling around on skates, doing dance numbers randomly throughout the evening and creating a memorable dining experience.

I remember us sitting on the bar stools at the counter because the place was packed and there wasn’t a table for 5 available. I have a feeling since I couldn’t see my parents at the other end of the bar, I felt more gutsy to order a big ‘ol burger. When I got it, no one really expected me to finish it.

But I did, and so began a joke between me and Emma, about me being a “pig”. She started collecting cute pig things and giving them to me as gifts as our inside joke continued. Or anytime she found something burger related, she got it for me. The burger tea set and cheeseburger pillow are probably my favorites. 

Since then, the jokes and nicknames for me have grown beyond me and Emma. Little did I know that as I got older, my love for food would turn into a knowledge and appreciation for it so much that I’d even create a blog for that very reason. Anyone who knows me, understands I have this weird thing where I not not only eat food, but I talk about it and even take photos of it obsessively.

What people may not realize is that it isn’t just about the food. Really, it isn’t. It’s the memories that happen as a result of the food. Was Johnny Rockets really making that great of a burger? Probably not. But my family and Emma being there and sharing that time with me created memories while I ate that burger… and that made it awesome. 

Some of the greatest conversations with my family and friends have happened around food. Whether it’s an outside patio table at Brio with my family, or a brunch at my friend’s apartment that all my friends gathered to make, the food seems like 5-star quality because of the precious memories and people with me while I eat. 

Yes, I love good food and I can’t deny that my taste buds have gotten a tad spoiled at fancy restaurants or from organic and fresh ingredients. But at the end of the day, even if it’s a failed muffin recipe gone terribly wrong, if it was made with my friends who I love and respect, I’d still rave and talk about those muffins years later.

Jen, still enjoying delicious burgers nearly a decade later.

Two things that make me smile.

Books, and coffee. Coffee, and books.

I could probably never really communicate how much I love a good cup of coffee. Especially on a day like today, when the sky is stormy, and I can see the rain pelting windows all around my desk, all I can think about is how much—so so so much—I wish I could be in my own comfy chair, with a blanket, and an open window, and a cup of hot coffee.

Necklace: $35
Mug: $15

Eating books.

When I was young, reading was never just reading. It was consuming, devouring, absorbing the words on a page, and letting those stories become a part of me.

I can recall a time in my life when my own memories were blurred with the stories of my favorite characters. Not sure where their lives ended and my life began, reading to me was as necessary as breathing.

I have a memory of myself at maybe 10 years old. It is snowing outside, and the house is quiet. My mother is making dinner, my baby brother is sleeping, and my father is still working. I have the living room to myself, and there I am: curled tight into the corner of our tired blue recliner, arms around my bony knees, my book propped onto the arm rest. The book was Matilda by Roald Dahl. A couple hundred pages were gone in just a few short hours.

Never had I read a book like that—so fast that the last page came with teary eyes because I could never read it for the first time again.

Though I find less time these days to finish a book in one evening, reading still provides the same catharsis that it always has for me. I visit countries I will never see. I fall in love. I fight small battles and big wars, and I almost always win.

With a book in my hand, I am that little girl again.

And at the close of nearly every book, I find myself believing, if only just for a moment, that the world makes sense again like it did when I was small.

Wear a book on your heart.

Show everyone how much you love to read when you wear this miniature book necklace over your heart.

I’ll be honest: It was the rose gold chain that really sold me on this Wednesday book craving. That and the classic print.

I want.

Price: Just $15, and only .50 shipping if you buy two!

From the same perspective.

There is no bond in this world like the bond between siblings. Some days you are competitors, most days you are partners, and all days you are linked as people who have shared the same life, from the same perspective.

When my baby brother was born, I was just about to turn 9 years old. Truth be told, I was absolutely smitten with him from day one. I remember thinking that he was truly the most beautiful baby I had ever seen, from his tan complexion to his head full of curly black hair. If a baby can be called quiet and determined, that was Timothy James Lark, Junior.

The story that I hold dearest for my brother, the one I come back to again and again, is one that reminds me of all the reasons I love him. (And hopefully why he loves me.)

Tim was maybe 3 years old at the time, and he was a sick little dude—that toddler kind of sick where even seeing him was just pitiful. It kind of broke my heart, so I offered to stay up with him while my parents went to bed. Since he was not so interested in playing, I put in this new movie my mom had bought him.

I set up blankets and pillows on the floor in front of the television, and started the movie. It was a Pooh Bear movie, so I was none too thrilled, but I was content to sit there while my brother relaxed. On the cartoon went, until we got to this one particular scene.

It was Pooh, and Piglet, and Eeyore—and I have to say, even in adulthood, I still appreciate the truly deadpan humor that A.A. Milne attributed to the Eeyore character—and they were sitting beneath a tree. Eeyore was complaining about something, when suddenly an apple falls directly onto his head. Animated Eeyore falls onto the ground and makes this noise that sounds something like,

“EEE-YONG”

It was a nasally sound, and for whatever reason, we both thought it was HILARIOUS. To this day, I am absolutely positive that neither of us has ever laughed so hard as when that apple hit Eeyore and he made that noise. In fact, I rewound the tape so many times that we were crying, bellies sore, laughing on the ground until my parents came out of their room to see what was the matter.

That night is such a nice picture in my memory. One 12 year old girl, one 3 year old boy, sharing silliness in a way that only siblings can because there are no secrets, and no pretensions.

Today, I am proud to say that my brother is still that person—just 13 years older, and more than 6 feet tall. He is still someone who can appreciate simple humor, and someone who is hilarious himself. More than that, my brother is someone of strong conviction, of compassion, and the most fiercely loyal man that I have ever met.

Though it breaks my heart to see the “baby” part of “baby brother” disappear before my eyes, I feel so fortunate to know this one person who has seen me at my very best, and at my very worst, and to have a brother who loves me in the most unconditional way.

In fact, I think that love is what makes siblings so special. Without the responsibility of being a parent, being a sibling means that you can love and accept someone regardless of whatever life holds.

I am so grateful for my brother. Grateful that he was born, and grateful that he still tolerates my insistence that he hug me in public, and tell me that I am his favorite only sister. :)

But more than anything, I am grateful for the unconditional love of a brother.

At my wedding, keeping true to form.

Another sunny day in Californ-i-a.

Most years, I cannot wait for the cooler months. I associate summer with humidity and allergies, and that wall of heat that hits you when you walk out the door.

Well, summer. I take it all back.

I would give anything for some sun right about now. I try and make it habit not to complain about the seasons, because frankly, they are going to happen anyway… but once in a while, I just get so desperate to feel the sun on my face and the grass under my feet.

Today is one of those days. In honor of summer, here are some childhood photos from the state of 70 degrees and sunny every day: California.

The moment I knew.

Everyone always wants to know when you discovered that your spouse was “the one.” After much thinking, I realized that I really could not pinpoint just one moment. At first it made me a little sad, and then I just gave up.

Then, this morning, there I am driving to work when I realized: That was it. The moment when I knew Chuck was the one.

During my four years of college, I finished a major, a minor, an honors degree, and I studied abroad. In that time I worked one job that was nearly full time, and had an internship that was also nearly full time. My home, school, job, and internship were all in different directions, and a normal day involved all four.

If it was a day that I got to see Chuck, he was in another direction.

College was a blast, but it was also exhausting. Most of the really busy days, I would end up with Chuck.

I forget the specifics of this one day, but I was beyond tired. Chuck had homework to do, so I was going to just sit and read something for school. He was sitting at his desk, and I was propped up. I never understood how people could fall asleep reading, but that night I did.

Next thing I know, my cell phone alarm is going off. I am laying in a bright room, and my glasses are missing. I panic anytime my glasses are missing, but as I started reaching coherence, I realized that I was in the same place I was four hours ago… but now the clock now said 1 a.m.

Realizing that I had fallen asleep, Chuck had taken the book from my lap and the glasses from my face. There they were on the table next to me. My glasses were neatly folded, and there was a piece of paper marking where I had left off in my book. Both items had been placed neatly beside my cell phone—which was going off because Chuck had also set the alarm.

That moment is just one of a million stories I could tell you illustrating the fact that my husband is easily the most considerate person, friend, and spouse.

In fact, the reason it was so hard to recall just one moment when I knew Chuck was “the one” is because he gives me another reason every day.

The glasses story is a perfect example, though. We all define “husband” and “wife” differently, making it hard to quantify when you say something like “I have the best husband!” Depending on who you are, that could mean he always takes out the trash, or he sends me flowers, or any number of attributes… but none of those things actually matter like this does:

My husband is my best friend.

Not in the way that you call your best girlfriend your best friend, but in the way that I have this one person who would literally do anything for me—even though I rarely deserve it. :)

There are no conditions. Whether “anything” means changing our life plan tomorrow, or just making sure that my glasses are safe, and that I keep my place in my book.

On that day, it was just the glasses and the book… and that was the moment I knew.