Monday, February 28, 2011

Now hiring: Monkeys to jump on a bed

I'm thinking that when the sales lady at the mattress store said the mattress we bought would be a little firmer than the one we tried in the store, she should have won the Understatement of the Year award. Balloons should have fallen out of the ceiling and stuff. Confetti, the works.

The much-yearned-for "plush" mattress we purchased and which was delivered to our home at 10:40 p.m. on Saturday night (whole 'nother story) is so "firm" that I considered sleeping on the couch last night instead. It's so firm that the first thing I did this morning was pull the mattress cover off to check the label. It says it's the same mattress we tried in the store, and yet it feels like I'm lying on a granite slab.

The sales lady says there is a breaking-in period. I'm hoping the breaking-in period only lasts the twenty minutes I'm going to spend stomping on that mofo today during my free time. Thankfully, we have 100 days to return this bad boy -- not that I think I'm going to last that long. I need my sleep. Not getting sleep makes me very angry.

You wouldn't like me when I'm angry.

Friday, February 25, 2011

Blocked

It's been a while since I was this blocked.

Major writer's block. Probably if I were in a cabin in the woods with no internet or cell phone or television (or chocolate), I could get unblocked and make things happen. But for right now, my brain feels dumb. For real.

So I am going to do some paragraph-y bullet points.

- Forecasters keep saying it may snow where I live. I live at an elevation of about 300 feet, and I've lived here most of my life and never seen snow. It supposedly last snowed here in 1976.

- We are having a new bed delivered to the house today, and I am absurdly excited about it. Our old bed isn't even that old but it's one of those Sleep Number jobbies? Works for some people, but doesn't work for us. For the new bed we got suckered into buying this mattress cover that zips all the way around the entire mattress and keeps dust mites and bed bugs out of the mattress. GOD FORBID bed bugs ever find their way into my home.

- Maybe I have writer's block because I'm eating healthier this week? I'm supposed to be eating whole grains and lean meats and fruits and veggies and all I want is a hamburger.

- I have a fun announcement to make on Monday. It's a little project myself and a couple other ladies are working on. I think you're gonna like it. If you're into vaginas. (Kidding! Sort of.)

- I'm getting my hair cut today.

- I miss warm weather.

- Oh, dude. Are you going to BlogHer in August? Come to BlogHer. I am going. Buy your ticket before Monday because prices go up $100 starting March 1. BlogHer is in San Diego this year, which should be pretty radical.

- I am in a rut, man. I think I need a change of scenery.

- Oh! So I am a nosy busy-body former newspaper reporter? And I watch what goes on in my neighborhood? So yesterday I watched some guys buy pot from one of my neighbors. I am so busting that fucker.

- I am really, really nosy. I like to tweet the police and the local newspapers a lot.

- I am going to make a really great old lady.

- Have a nice weekend.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

A tease: The living room

Firstly, just need to get this out of the way: I am not weighing in today (again) because I am changing up my eating plan for reasons I'll explain later, as part of a project I'm excited about and will be filling you in on in the next month or so.

Secondly, and of more immediate importance, do you remember my living room? The one that had a bed propped up against one wall for a year? The one that was full of junk that all got sold in a garage sale over the summer?


It gives me hives just looking at these.







And then I showed you what it looked like when all the stuff was gone and the clouds parted and angels sang and life was beautiful again?


Dear Lord: Thank you for hardwood floors. Amen.



Oh, and remember the paint samples on the wall? Ha. Hahahaha.... HA! We painted. I still need to finish touching up a few areas, but the vast majority of the room done got painted. What color(s), you ask? Hmmm.

Well I'll show you a couple of hints. I can't show you the whole room yet (until it's done!!), but I can't resist showing you a couple little elements.




The first five photos are basically journalist pornography.


Oh, baby.


Antique typewriters? You shouldn't have.


Both of these were discovered in my husband's grandmother's home after her passing. Along with many, many other gems.



Dear Underwood: I love you. Goodbye.



You had me at QWERTY



Yes, that does say The Pocket Book of Boners. No, it is not a pocket book of erect male genitalia.



We have oodles and oodles of old family photos.



And old books.


This is a book published in 1964 about Kennedy's assassination.



 A little porn for the photogs.


Oh, no I didn't. Oh, yes I DID!

 Just a little taste.


 And another one.


And a cat in a box.

That's all for today, but I'll post more when the room is done. I just need to get some stuff up on the walls and finish touching up the paint and then I'm calling it done.

Monday, February 21, 2011

An anniversary

I was tempted to let the first anniversary of the last day at my old soul-sucking job pass by without mention. Because I felt I hadn't accomplished enough throughout that year.

But the year marked itself on Saturday, February 19, without fanfare.

I could do what I do every day: Beat myself up about the yet-unfinished novel, about how much it probably sucks, and about how long it's taking me to write it, etc., etc. I am pretty sure self-flagellation is just part of the creative process.

Instead I think I will write about what I've learned over the last year.

For starters, I learned that I really, really like not having a "real" job. I don't think I was meant to be a cubicle dweller and slave away for the man. I like wearing jeans and slippers and gigantic sweaters every day. I enjoy taking a break to go for a walk or pick up some groceries.

And strangely, I didn't really go nuts hanging out by myself for most of every day. Initially it was just a relief to get away from the craziness of a huge office, where anyone can and does enter your cubicle uninvited. It was getting harder and harder to pretend that I cared about what people had to say. Nowadays, when I get stir crazy from being alone, I arrange lunches with friends. Weekend meet-ups with family and friends always seem to fill up my socialization meter, and I feel happy. It helps to also be a little cuckoo -- I talk to myself on a regular basis and occasionally burst into song.  

But, I also learned it's really, really hard to be your own boss. I am heavy handed with the vacation days, and I rarely require eight-hour work days. I've heard of writers who write for four hours every day, including weekends and holidays. These are actual successful writers, with published work. I'm noticing a difference in their work ethics versus mine. On the other hand, giving myself a bit of a break has meant I am cooking at home a lot more than I used to, which has been a nice change for my husband and I, and I even sometimes clean the bathrooms!

It is, however, a challenge to work from home. Chores beckon, as does the refrigerator. Thankfully I haven't heard the siren song of the television. And whether this is a good thing or a bad thing, at home, when it's 4 p.m. and my sugar level crashes, I can take a nap, whereas in an office I would just grab a cup of coffee and keep on trucking.

Despite the speed bumps, and despite the fact that I am not a novelist but merely a former journalist whose last creative writing class was in high school -- I am actually writing a novel. There are pages. Lots of them. With a storyline and characters and dialogue and everything. When all is said and done, I'm not even sure if I care if the book is any good, only that I finish it. There's a lot to be said for finishing stuff.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Unfinished business

Chinese medicine tells me I am Stuck and Tired. This is from a new book I just downloaded yesterday, and no I'm not telling you what it's called because you'll just make fun of me.

Ok, it's called Making Babies: A Proven Three Month Program For Maximum Fertility.

So far there's a lot of talk about follicles and ovaries and luteal phases and all I can envision is the opening scene from Look Who's Talking, when the egg is hanging around in a fallopian tube and Bruce Willis and his buddy sperms are racing in trying to get to it first.

(By the way, for your own peace of mind, I wouldn't Google any phrases with the words sperm and egg. Also, there are an unfortunate plethora of freakish time-lapsed videos of pregnant women on YouTube that are making me reconsider my desire to spawn. Yeesh!)

Anyway, Stuck and Tired sounds about right. I am stuck and tired, and not just physically. My book - the one I'm writing? Talk about stuck. And tired -- well, the Circle of Lethargy has me.

So Making Babies recommends all kinds of stuff I'll be putting into effect shortly. Some are easy and some are difficult. For instance, it suggests I lose between five and ten percent of my body weight, which doesn't sound like much, but has proven to be nearly impossible for me to accomplish for more than a year now. Also, I should probably quit drinking caffeine and alcohol. Which pretty much blows.

Meanwhile I'm trying to figure out how to get out of my rut, professionally. Like how I just referred to myself as a professional? Professional loafer, maybe.

Inspiration eludes me.

Chinese medicine says I need exercise, soup and royal jelly, whatever the hell that is. I'm gonna go find out. Be right back.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Eating

Between the first and second courses last night, I felt my Spanx begin to roll down my torso. Darned spandex good-for-nothing girdle.

I decided I'm not weighing in today, because it's been a doozy of a last week-and-a-half as far as my eating is concerned, in addition to which, here is what I ate last night at Arcadia in San Jose:

American Caviar Parfait - Creme fraiche, smoked salmon, egg salad, accompanied by a glass of Domaine Carneros Brut, Carneros 2006. Do I like caviar? I didn't think I did, but apparently, I do now.

Butter-Poached Maine Lobster - Corn crepe, thai curry sauce, organic sweet peppers, accompanied by a glass of Poet's Leap Riesling, Columbia Valley 2008. Thank you sir, may I have another?

Miso-Glazed Alaskan Cod - Scallop tortellini, braised endive, shiitake consomme, accompanied by a glass of Weinbach Gewurztraminer "Cuvee Laurence," Alsace 2002. A true work of art.

Valrhona Chocolate Ganache Cake - Tahitian vanilla ice cream, crispy chocolate, candied rose pedals, accompanied by a glass of Far Niente "Dolce" Late Harvest, Napa Valley 2005. This was like the best ding dong I've ever eaten, and the plate had chocolate pop rocks on it. 

I am sorry I don't have photos, but I couldn't bring myself to pull out my camera during dinner.  (Also, if you're interested in going to Arcadia, this was a special Valentine's Day menu but I hear their regular menu is fabulous, too)

In conclusion, I ate four quadrillion calories for dinner and will be working it off while eating lettuce leaves and green tea for the remainder of the week.

Goodbye.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Of love

Saturday I spent a few hours in bed with my lover.



Well, lots of beds.

We are bed shopping. Have you shopped for beds lately? When you're shopping for beds, it's of course important that you lie down on them, jiggle around to test the comfort, turn onto your side or your belly to see what it feels like when you're in the position you usually lie in while asleep.

Mattress stores are large, dimly lit, quiet, cool in temperature, and basically empty. At any given moment, there are approximately zero customers in any given mattress store. So when you lie down about 50 different times on comfortable beds in a darkened, quiet place, you start to become verrrry sleepy. I'm getting sleepy just thinking about it.

The End.








Just kidding.

So, yeah. We are bed shopping, and haven't taken the plunge yet because we're nervous we're going to buy a bed and then it's going to suck donkey balls and we're going to be stuck in the position we are right now, which is to say: Our current bed sucks donkey balls and we've only had it five years.

Isn't that a riveting story??

But I was thinking, with it being Valentine's Day weekend, that was kind of an appropriate outing for us, running around town, lying down on all these different beds. Of course, we think we've contracted a cold from said activity, but ...

So yes. It is Valentine's Day and we have dinner reservations, which is pretty out there for us. Usually we stay in and go: What do you want to do? Um, eat cheese and drink wine? Ok, let's eat cheese and drink wine.

Seriously.

But I was feeling lame because lots of other folks do stuff for V-Day, so I made a dinner reservation. Sound the horns! And then as soon as I made the reservation I began to feel a bit lame, like one of the herd heading out for V-Day dinner, conforming to the Hallmark holiday-ness of it all.

And then I began to feel bad about the waiters having to work on Valentine's Day. Which is a bit silly, isn't it? We're going to go, anyway, and I'm sure our waiter will receive a nice tip.

So, all of that to say -- Happy Valentine's Day to you and your lovers, current or future. May there be chocolate and cheese and wine and maybe a romantic movie. Happy Valentine's Day to my own, favoritest Unicorn Hunter, Roamer of the Hinterlands, soul mate-o'-mine.

Friday, February 11, 2011

It figures

Here's what happens the moment I decide to eat healthier.

1. The Superbowl. Commence consumption of mass quantities of nachos, fried chicken and alcohol.

2. Family outing to the sincerely detested Sizzler for consumption of high calorie ranch dressing atop wilted lettuce leaves, more nachos and disgusting hamburger/fries.

3. Family outing for Mexican food to celebrate brother-in-law's promotion. Commence consumption of enchiladas and sangria.

4. Breakfast outing with friends. Commence consumption of much-desired pancakes and all other gluten items banned from the house.

5. Spontaneous pizza party with friends. Commence consumption of pizza, beer, rice balls (a story for another time) and God knows what else.

6. Valentine's Day. A reservation has been secured at a steak house. I will not be eating salad.

All of that happened/is happening in a nine day period. All of it would be fine if I understood the fine art of moderation. Or if I was really into vigorous exercise.

I'm just saying: Tuesday's weigh-in doesn't look promising.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Holy Crapoly, An Internet Award!

Let it be known that I, Erin, your resident madwoman, am hereby the recipient of a blogger award, bestowed upon me by beautiful blond Oregonian blogger, fellow flab fighter and Nickelback-hater McGriddle Pants (how can you not love her? McGriddle Pants? I mean, come on).

And the award is:


The LOL Award. McG-P takes issue with the phrase "LOL" but I've been known to toss out an LOL here and there -- just trying to keep up with the children, Mabel!

Now, I have to admit something shameful: This is my first award. I've had this blog since 2006 and this is my first dad-blasted award. Which is probably testament to my lack of Internet networking skills.

SO!

The way this goes is I tell you seven things about myself, if it is possible that there are seven things about me you don't already know. Here goes nothing.

1. I have a giant, painful greenish bluish bruise on my right shin that has been there for at least three weeks. What does it all mean? Amputation??

2. I am going to BlogHer this year. No, I am not a well-known blogger. But as Joy Behar says: So what? Who cares? *shoulder shrug* I'm going away.

3. I hate melon. ALL MELON. No, I do not like watermelon, goddamit, I told you I don't like melon, period. If the word "melon" is in the name of the food you are presenting me with, be assured I will not eat it. Amen.

4. Everyone in my immediate family works for a religious organization of some kind, and many of my immediate family's co-workers read this blog. I think they are just researching the enemy.

5. I listen to Chopin for about two and a half hours a day on most days of the week. Clears the cobwebs.

6. I have only ever pooped in a public restroom once. I have a deathly fear of pooping in public restrooms.

7. I have lived in three "renovated" garage apartments. As in garages that were renovated into apartments. I use the word "renovate" loosely. In case you're wondering what it's like to live in a garage: It's cold and small and bugs get in really easily. In summation: It blows major donkey balls.


SO!

Now what I am supposed to is bestow this LOL Award honor upon seven esteemed bloggers, whom I assume should be really LOLy. So I shall name the seven funniest blogs I read. Only a couple of them occasionally read my blog, therefore do not expect this chain mail to show up on their blogs. Likewise, if any of them do read this, they should not feel obligated to participate.

In no particular order (except for alphabetical):

1. East Side Bride. Yes, this is a wedding-ish site and I've already done got old and married, but this blog cracks me up. People write in asking all kinds of foolish questions and East Side Bride, whoever she is, answers with brutal honesty. One of my recent favorites: She tells someone: You realize you're being a total bitch, right?

2. Phronk's Scrapbook. I don't know where he finds this crap, but most of it is hilarious.

3. Run Bitches Run. Poor Ells. She just moved from Bend, Oregon to South Carolina and to say it's been a major adjustment would be a bit of an understatement.

4. Shallow and Very Very Single. An almost-30 San Francisco gal who goes by "D" on her blog and hilariously relays her drunken adventures. Not for the church ladies.

5. Sassy Curmudgeon. New Yorker Una LaMarche talks about her comical relationship with her husband, pop culture, and other funny stuff. One of my favorites: Text messages from her sister.

6. Things I Like To Eat (And Other Nonsense). Yes, she writes about things she likes to eat, but she also writes some pretty chuckleworthy stuff about her life, such as a recent favorite of mine, when she discussed her colonoscopy. We all know there is nothing funnier than butts, buttholes, and poop.

7.  Tickets for Two. Lacie is a flight attendant based in Washington, DC. She has the most uproarious stories about unruly customers and her husband and has recently taken up creating her own hysterical illustrations.

That's it for today, kiddies! Toodles til Friday!

Wednesday, February 09, 2011

Meeting P-Dub


There's just no accounting for:

1) Why I look terrified in this photo.

2) Why Ree looks so cool, calm, and collected in an 80 degree bookstore after she's been signing books for two hours.

3) Why I am holding my jacket that way.

4) Why my mother invited Ree to stay at her house.

5) Why I didn't employ my best double-chin banishing technique.

6) Why Ree doesn't look scared that we are flanking her like wild-eyed weirdo Internet fans.


The deal is that yesterday my mom and I went to Books, Inc. on Van Ness in San Francisco to have The Pioneer Woman, Ree Drummond, sign our books. We bought copies of her new book, Black Heels to Tractor Wheels, and she also kindly signed my crusty cookbook.


 
Also in tow were her two daughters, her niece, her mother-in-law and her sister-in-law, Missy. I didn't take photos of them because I think taking photos of kids you don't know and posting them on the Internet is creepy. Even though Ree's kids seem really down-to-earth and completely unfazed by their mom's popularity among certain wild-eyed female blogger-types.

We didn't know what to expect and initially planned to arrive on time -- 7 p.m.  Until I read that some people in Los Angeles waited in line for three hours to have Ree sign their books, at which point we decided to arrive an hour early.

By the way, we took BART up, and I really do hate BART with the fire of a thousand suns. My mom asked, More than Sizzler? And now that I've had time to think about it, no, I think I still hate Sizzler more.

Also, to further digress, my mom and I are two of the most directionally challenged people you will ever meet. The fact that we made it to the BART station in Fremont, then actually took the correct train and got off at the correct station in San Francisco and then actually found the bookstore is nothing short of divine intervention. We were meant to meet Ree.

When we arrived, there were about 70 people already there, sitting in chairs. We found two footstools to sit on, and then we met an Egyptologist who took this photo:



There is no accounting for why I could not wear a little lipstick and also, the double chin? Why, Lord? Oh, why?

Anyway, I mentioned the Egyptologist? True and fascinating story -- this striking blond gal named Alicia who was also waiting to meet Ree told us that until a few short days ago she was working in Cairo in a museum and had to be evacuated. I worked up the nerve to ask her for her blog address, and you can read about her fascinating adventure here.

Small world! 

There were tons of other bloggers there, but I didn't have the guts to go asking everyone who they were and getting their web addresses. It shall remain a mystery until I Google them later.

So we waited for a bit and then Ree & Co. walked in and Ree did a little Q&A, joking about fearing public speaking and needing tissues for her armpits. She is nothing if not relatable, humble and sweet. She answered questions for about an hour and addressed what I'd been wondering about -- whether there truly will be a Black Heels to Tractor Wheels movie, and currently it's a possibility but as far as she knows there's nothing in the works. She did get to meet Reese Witherspoon, who'd expressed an interest in playing her.

After the Q&A, we all lined up according to our assigned letters (Mom and I were F -- for flunky), and from there it took about two hours to get to the front of the line. During that time, we laughed hysterically, whined incessantly about how heavy our purses were, whined about how our feet hurt, whined about how hot it was in the book store, and whined about being hungry. It's how we roll.

Then we got to the front of the line, whence all rational thought was stricken from my brain and I became a monotone robot zombie and took a terrible photo and then left. It all happened so fast.

But what I can tell you is that Ree is gorgeous in person. I don't think photos do her justice. You can't see the color of her eyes in most photos, which I think are a kind of stunning green/blue. 

So then we walked back to BART.


And I took this photo of City Hall (for the record I brought my crappy camera instead of my good one, God knows why. Why, Lord? Oh, why?)

And then we waited for BART.

And then we sat on BART.

And then we drove home. And then I ate chicken and went to bed.

The end. Fascinating tale, I know!

All in all, it was a good little adventure, and we're glad we got to meet (ish) Ree and have her sign our books. And, of course, once I read BHTTW I'll review it here as well.

Tuesday, February 08, 2011

Bummer

It's Tuesday, therefore it's weigh-in day, and I have gained 1.2 pounds. It's not altogether surprising, although maybe a little unexpected given all the running, Shredding and biking I did but OH WELL.

So since I'm not pretending I don't know why I gained a pound, let us count the ways:

1) Sizzler. *fist shake*

2) Superbowl. There was no calorie-counting, only eating and drinking. Much, much eating and drinking.

3) Superbowl leftovers. Hello Monday. Nice to meet you and your Doritos and ranch dip.

4) I didn't work out yesterday. I was supposed to, and didn't. I took a nap instead. Yep! I did.


So let's see what I have learned and what to do differently this week:

1) Do not eat at Sizzler. Ever again.

2) Eat fun party foods IN MODERATION. I always forget that one -- moderation.

3) Pawn off leftovers on other people or throw them away. I managed to send all the cookies and some of the alcohol back home with their owners, but I still have some high-calorie stuff in the fridge.

4) Work out. Every day except Sunday. Period. We do not come from a people who lose weight without working out. We come from a people known for large cheeks, both facial and buttocky.


Ok. It's another week, and another opportunity to succeed. Next week, I'm pretty confident there will be weight loss. I just have to keep on trucking and not get discouraged. And dispose of the Doritos ASAP.

Monday, February 07, 2011

Weekend scenes


It was a record-breaking 77 degrees here yesterday and 75 on Saturday. We did bike Saturday, but I'm afraid it didn't get anywhere near to making up for the calorie-consumption festival that was Superbowl Sunday. Also, there was a trip to Sizzler in there somewhere.




Yes, I said Sizzler.

I hadn't been in about 20 years, and my parents had a coupon (don't get me started) so we converged upon one of the only Sizzlers that wasn't closed 15 years ago due to the population's sheer hatred of Sizzler restaurants.

In case you're wondering, nothing has changed at Sizzler in the last 20 years.




Nobody salads like Sizzler. Really? I can think of at least four salad bars that are better, off the top of my head. Also, taking a bit of a liberty by turning the word salad into a verb, aren't we?

Long story short, my brother-in-law almost went postal and my husband and I almost left the restaurant before we even ordered and my dad's lips all but disappeared, which is the facial expression he takes on when aggravated or dispensing unwanted advice.

But we all stayed and enjoyed our meals, to the extent that you can enjoy a hamburger that has two bone fragments in it. And I only ate half.

Sizzler -- you will rue the day you crossed me!!


Anyway. Then yesterday was the Superbowl of course. And we had beef fajita nachos and chicken strips and cookies and beers and wine and there was a veggie platter in there somewhere, and guacamole and Doritos and some other stuff but it's all a blur.

And it was warm. All the windows open warm. The last time my team won the Superbowl was 1989 and it was cold. I distinctly remember it.

And now it is Monday and Jillian Michaels is laughing at me. I can hear her. I am going to kick your big white butt is what she's saying. She doesn't like when I overeat.

Friday, February 04, 2011

Working for the weekend

This was almost a really annoying post about risk and reward and having it all. Then I stopped, and remembered it's Friday.

So, a few bullet points, then a recipe.

- Tonight the new season of Who Do You Think You Are starts. Laws, I love that show.

- It's Super Bowl weekend and I need to clean my dirty house. Why, Lord? Why do I have such a dirty house?

- I need to figure out what I am eating during the Superbowl. Priorities, people. Priorities.

- I think I shall bicycle again tomorrow. Yessiree. It's supposed to be 70 degrees. 'Twould be criminal not to bicycle.

- I might make my damn good chili tonight. It is damn good.

- The thought of my bathroom floors is making me cringe. 


Ok that's it for bullet points.

I made this really super awesome Thai Chicken and Noodle Salad last night. It's from Everyday Food's May 2008 edition.

SO GOOD.

So good that I didn't take a picture of the finished product because as soon as it was done it smelled so wonderful I just started shoveling it in my mouth.

But here's Martha's picture of it:



And here are some photos of my ingredients (taken with my phone. I be lazy):

This is the spicy Asian dressing, and it is so delicious. You use half of it to marinate your chicken and the other half to drizzle on the finished product. A TIP: The recipe calls for anchovy paste or a minced anchovy, which I did not use. Instead, I used fish sauce, which I think a lot of us are way more likely to have on hand.


That is a couple of carrots, grated into thin strips, and an English cucumber, sliced thinly. A TIP: The recipe says to slice up the whole cucumber, which I didn't do because it seemed like too much. I WAS WRONG. Use the whole cucumber. English cucumbers are also way tastier than regular cucumbers.


This is a gluten-free soy sauce I found at Whole Foods, since my husband is gluten intolerant. It tastes exactly like regular soy sauce.


This is some Thai rice noodles soaking in boiling hot water. A TIP: The recipe calls for only 3.5 oz of noodles. We found this to be way too few noodles. What I'd do next time is take the whole 14 oz box of noodles and cook them, then divide them between four bowls (assuming you're feeding 4 otherwise half it), then assemble the rest of it. The recipe says to put it all on a platter, but that's a little annoying to deal with.

So anyway, you should definitely make this dish, but using my tips.



It's the spicy Asian dressing that really makes the whole dish. The cucumbers (and I normally hate cucumbers with the fire of a thousand suns) are a delicious and crispy accompaniment.

Here is the link to Martha's recipe.

Have a lovely weekend and I hope your football team wins! Ours sucks and didn't make the playoffs. :-)

Thursday, February 03, 2011

The Track


My husband says Don't go to the track at night. Even though at night this place is jam-packed with people. Hundreds. And it's well-lit. But trying to huff and puff my ass around this thing with all those jackwagons in my way doesn't appeal to me, anyway, so I am going to go during the day.

Even though there was a hella skeezy guy leering at all the chicks on the track today. I'd like to introduce that guy's face to the pointy part of my elbow. (I'm waiting for a year of kickboxing to come in handy)

This morning concluded Day 2 of Week 1 of the Couch to 5K program and my leg is acting up again, which probably means I am running like a retard. But I shall persist.

I found a fantastic iPhone app that lets you play your own music and then when it's time to run or walk, it tells you. So. Damn. Cool. It's called "Couch to 5K" and was made by Felt Tip Inc. if you're interested in finding it. No, it's not free, but at $2.99, it's a helluva lot cheaper than a gym membership.

That's all for today. I have a few thousand words to write and a trip to the godforsaken grocery store in my near future. Toodles til tomorrow. 

Wednesday, February 02, 2011

Almost Wordless Wednesday

These are some photos that have been hanging around in my phone for a while.

 Where there is a box, he will be there.


 Rug shopping. More on this later.


 A lizard in Sookie's garage.


 My fan club.


 The irony is piercing.


Sold at our garage sale for $1. Along with hideous blue velour covered futon in the background.

Tuesday, February 01, 2011

Holiday Weight

As it turns out, it is much more satisfying to weigh yourself once a week instead of every day when you're trying to lose weight. Which -- duh.

I lost 3.4 pounds in a week, which is good. It's basically the weight I put on over the holidays, and now I'm at the weight I've been at for more than a year now.

What I'm doing is not dieting, although I am controlling portions. I am drinking lots of water, and a big mug of green tea after lunch. I am exercising, which is probably the biggest change. And eating lots of fruit and veggies. And dark chocolate every night, although not much. What I find, though, is I don't need much.

The true test now is to see what happens as I continue to do this. There's part of me that thinks I'm stuck at this weight, because it's just been the number that shows up on the scale almost every time I've weighed myself for more than a year. And no, I can't tell you what I weigh, unless I'm ready to die of embarrassment. Maybe some day if I ever manage to get to my goal weight, I will share my starting weight.

So far, Jillian Michaels is still kicking my butt in the 30 Day Shred, but it is getting "easier." Not easy by any stretch, but I don't have to pause the video to catch my breath now. And I'm back on my bicycle -- we took a long ride over the weekend, and I'm hoping to keep it up. Next up I am going back to the track to begin the Couch to 5K regimen again. If life doesn't intervene, I should be able to run three miles nine weeks from now.

I'm planning to update here about my progress once a week, every Tuesday. Please, oh please, let it work.