Adios

¿Dónde está la playa?

Dos cervezas, por favor.

Just brushing up on some key Spanish phrases, because tomorrow I'm getting up at 4 am for a 7:25 flight to Cancun, Mexico. Peter got the keys to the family time share and has been chilling drinks for me since Saturday.

I've been warned not to drink the water, and I've promised my dad I won't die in such a way as to shame the family and/or insight an international search for my body.

I'm shutting off my cell phone, the away message is up on my school e-mail account, and I'm not bringing any work with me. It's going to be amazing.

Stories and pictures when I get back. Have a great week!

angel with a sweet tooth

I'm going over Jane's tonight for dinner. Her boyfriend's cooking. He's a restaurateur. Last time I had dinner with them, it was a multi-course meal that included an avocado and beet salad with a lemon vinaigrette; braised short ribs; artichoke, celery root, and bacon risotto; fried artichoke stems stuffed with sausage and cheese; and baked apples with local, organic vanilla ice cream. I love it when I directly benefit from my friend's relationships.

Jane asked me to bring something on which a strawberry sauce would go. (She had already left Whole Foods when she realized she'd forgotten a pound cake). So today I decided to take my first stab at making a chocolate angel food cake. I already made one recipe* with chocolate and egg whites this week, and I'm getting pretty good at separating the eggs:


I was just going to buy egg whites, because as Jane pointed out I wouldn't be cheating, I would be conserving egg yolks. Fortunately I read the carton before leaving the supermarket with Egg Beaters - apparently because they're pasteurized they don't foam well and aren't recommended for meringues or angel food cakes. I was pleased that mentioned that on the packaging.

No problem whipping these babies in shape (stiff peaks, to be exact). I looooove my stand mixer.



Here's the recipe, and the finished product.

* not recommended - they tasted like dirt flavored chocolate meringues

damn you, sat fats!

Yesterday I was doing my usual blog reading - my blog (to see if anyone left comments - I like to know if people are reading, alright?, over to shenanigans, then cake wrecks and postcards from yo momma - when I stumbled upon Bakerella. I don't know how I've never seen it before. Big fan, she's got great recipes and even better pictures.



And so when I saw these, I knew I was going to be in trouble.



I'm heading to Cancun, Mexico, on Tuesday, and I've got to squeeze my fat white ass into this:

(Actually it's kind of nice - in comparison to the alabaster white of the mannequin I almost look tan.)

But I might have to buy the ingredients so when I get back I can stuff my face with that gooey, chocolaty, hybrid baked-good goodness!

just another saturday

Valentine's Day is one of those holidays - like New Year's Eve and the 4th of July - that's so over-rated you end up disappointed if you don't have the most amazing day you've ever had before. Ever.

This year is a little different, though. It's the first Valentine's Day I've been single in 5 yrs, but also the first time I'm not lonely.

After scoring some beautiful ABC Home rugs at a friend's moving party, I bought a bottle of wine and made myself a lovely dinner.

A pretty good Saturday night in my book.

She Swims, She Rides, She Runs, She ROX

Just in case the Stair Climb wasn't enough... I have officially registered for my first triathlon!

A couple of years ago, my sister, inspired by her friend Meghan, did the Danskin Women's Tri. They were joined by my brother-in-law's sister. Well Meg's now got a 2-year-old and a 3-month-old, and Steph's going to pop with #2 in mid-April, so the tri's out for them this year. I've talked about doing it for the last two years, but this year Lisa and I (and some of the other Hotsteppas!) decided we were going to do it.

As motivation, and because they're on sale, Lisa and I ordered these:

Lisa opted for the plain black one, but I thought the piping might make it more flattering, that the flowers would help me look more like a lady and less like a seal. But who am I kidding, there's nothing flattering about this. It's big motivation, though.

And did I mention it's on my birthday? Triathlon for 29. Cruise for 30.

One word answers

Stolen from Beth and Facebook, because the creative juices aren't flowing today:

1. Where is your cell phone? Bag
2. Your significant other? Me
3. Your hair? Long
4. Your mother? Crazy
5. Your father? Loyal
6. Your favorite? Ice cream
7. Your dream last night? Class
8. Your favorite drink? Alcoholic
9. Your dream/goal? Happy
10. What room you are in? Office
11. Your hobby? Shopping
12. Your fear? Failure
13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Elsewhere
14. Where were you last night? Couch
15. Something that you aren’t? Selfish
16. Muffins? Scones
17. Wish list item? Kitchen
18. Where you grew up? Suburbs
19. Last thing you did? Taught
20. What are you wearing? Outfit
21. Your TV? DVR
22. Your pets? Dead
23. Friends? Inspiring
24. Your life? Balanced?
25. Your mood? Preoccupied
26. Missing someone? Kiddies
27. Car? Selling
28. Something you’re not wearing? Sweater
29. Your favorite store? Target
30. Your favorite colour? Blue
31. When is the last time you laughed? Yesterday
32. Last time you cried? Friday
33. Who will resend this? Stephanie
34. One place that I go to over and over? Boston
35. One person who emails me regularly? Lisa
36. My favorite place to eat? Cafe

Boston Stair Climb - Mission Accomplished

We did it!

We didn't look quite as good when we finished, but we all made it to the top.

We had some good motivation, and we needed it.

41 floors = 82 flights = 789 steps

I started with a light jog. By the 3rd floor I could feel a little heat in my thighs. By the 4th floor the heat was in my knees. By the 5th floor the fire was in my lungs. The only good part was that after the 10th floor it didn't get any worse, so it was just a matter of continuing to move.

Afterwards there was an "awards ceremony" at the Bell in Hand. Shockingly, we weren't the fastest team (the winners were under 5 minutes each). The trophy looked tasty, too.

Thanks to your help, I raised $315, and as a team The Hotsteppas raised $855!

And now I'm back to taking the elevator.

let's talk about sex

[TMI warning: This post contains references to "women's stuff." I don't think I have any male readers, but I know occasionally the brother-in-law stops by, so just in case, and also as a courtesy for any female readers that don't want to hear about my trip to the lady doctor.]



For months I have been trying to go to the gynecologist. Nothing's wrong, I just need to have my yearly exam. It's not like I want to go, but it's like paying your taxes - you gotta do what you gotta do. One of the reasons I do want (although I still think that's too strong of a word) to go is so I can go back on the pill. I went off thinking, 'If I don't need extra hormones in my body, why put them there?' Except then I remembered what happened the last time I did this - my skin looks like a "before" picture on a Proactiv commercial. I don't remember having skin this bad as a teenager, but maybe I just blocked it out. Anyways, the irony is that because I'm not on the pill my cycle is a less predictable, so every time I made an appointment I'd invariably get my freaking period. I was tempted to call and make 1 appointment a week for a month, and then I'd just cancel the ones I didn't need, but knowing my luck I'd end up with the world's longest period.



So I finally go in today. What does the doctor tell me?



"You're ovulating, so no hanky panky without a condom."



First of all, thanks for reinforcing how much sex I'm not having. The nurse already took care of that. Are you in a relationship? Nope. Are you currently sexually active? Nope. Any chance you could be pregnant? Didn't we cover that in the last two questions? I'm pretty sure I'm not a candidate for immaculate conception.



Secondly, if you want to give me a safe-sex talk, that's not the line to take. Pregnancy doesn't scare me nearly as much as that disease that makes you die, because pregnancy, unlike HIV, can be undone.



And I already marked off on the little sheet that in the rare occasion when the stars align and I do get laid, I practice safe sex. Why have me fill it out if you're not going to read it and/or believe my answers? It's like the time the nurse asked me how much I weighed, and then after I answered she looked me up and down and told me to step on the scale. No need to add insult to injury, the paper gown does a sufficient job of stripping my pride.

spinning to the 80s

I was a little nervous when I saw the new spinning instructor this morning. She was wearing full-rise cropped black leggings, white tube socks with black sneakers, and a cut-off white tee shirt. She also had a bad 80s perm. She basically looked like if one of your middle-school friend's moms had been an aerobics instructor.

She was really good, though - I was pleasantly surprised. I talked my friend Ruthie into doing the class with me because RKG, who originally got me into spinning, is a full PhD now and has a real, tenure track job. Ruthie, like RKG, is about 40 lbs lighter than be an is a work-horse - good gym motivation partner.

And when my knees started scream as we did 2-count jumps (sit in the seat for 2, stand and pedal for 2) I just kept thinking, "bikini, bikini, bikini..." every time I pushed the pedal.

In fact, the one I ordered (in hot pink) should be arriving tomorrow. 22 days til Cancun!