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!

just to clarify

Subject: Thought Of You‏

From: Friend (friend@gmail.com)

Sent:Thu 1/29/09 3:43 PM

To: Me (me@hotmail.com)

http://www.lochers.com/accessories11.html

Because it made me laugh - not because I think you're a whore!

blog plagiarism

Well, it's not really plagiarism because I'm appropriately citing the original idea to Beth over at Shenanigans, my ultimate blog muse.

If you could have any super power, what would it be? I'm torn between invisibility and the ability to freeze time, like Evie on "Out of this World."

What is your favorite weather, and why? Mild spring or fall days where the sun is shining, so I can wear jeans a flip-flops and don't need a jacket/sweater.

What time do you usually get up? 8-8:30.

What is your most challenging goal right now? Immediate: Writing my dissertation. Long term/life goal: finding the elusive happy medium.

Say something to the person who tagged you: Beth is a real inspiration to me. She's an amazing writer, she has worked so hard to carve out a career as a free-lancer. She inspired me to blog in the first place, she's uber supportive of my own writing, academic and otherwise. She just never ceases to surprise me in awesome and unexpected ways.

If you could have a house–totally paid for, fully furnished–anywhere in the world, where would you want it to be? Toughy, but I've got to go with New York City.

Favourite vacation spot? Somewhere tropical, warm, sunny, relaxing, with a pool, fruity drinks with little umbrellas in them, and no cell phone or internet access. And I'm going to one such location in 28 days!

What is your favourite children’s book? For babies, Pat the Bunny. For slightly older kids, The Phantom Tollbooth.

Name one thing you just can’t resist no matter how bad it is for you: Boys.

If you could meet anyone famous - dead or alive - who would it be? Again, toughy. Dead: Niki de Saint-Phalle. Alive: Hillary Clinton

What are you wearing now? black Nike sweatpants, Providence College sweatshirt, glasses. se-xy.

What story/book/novel have you read over and over again in your life? I actually don't like reading books more than once, but the few I have are: The Chronicles of Narnia, I Know this Much is True

What’s the last thing you read/are currently reading? When You are Engulfed in Flames, David Sedaris.

Do you nap a lot? Trying to cut back.

Who was the last person you hugged? Jane, a.k.a. my cookie

What’s your current fandom/obsession/addiction? hmm, there's the new season of Rock of Love Bus, American Idol is heating up, and I'm currently obsessed with chocolate yogurt, either from Trader Joe's or Stoneyfield

What was the last thing you ate today? oatmeal made with skim milk, dried apples, cinnamon, and ground flax seed; hazelnut Dunkin Donuts coffee with skim milk and Splenda

What was the last thing you said aloud? can't remember

What websites do you always visit when you go online? Hotmail, NYU home, Facebook

What was the last thing you bought? Starbucks - tall skinny vanilla latte, tall soy chai latte, chocolate covered graham crackers (which Jane wanted to split but I thought were gross)

What are you listening to right now? the sounds of cars and trucks driving by on the wet slush, supers shoveling the sidewalks (not mine!); on my iPod, Kate Nash Made of Bricks

What movie are you most excited to show your kids? The Brave Little Toaster, Adventures in Babysitting

What were you like when you were five? I don't remember, probably transitioning from shy to precocious, chasing Andrew Rosin around day care trying to kiss him (I was clearly destined to be a fag hag)

What word or phrase do you hate? "ain't"; "I didn't know"; "Nobody told me"; any phrase in which a word is used incorrectly; double negatives

If you had £1,000 (or $, €) what would you spend it on? paying down debt

are ta-ta's N.A.F.F.?

I blog about Facebook, I blog about boobies, and then what do I see on
CNN this morning? A story about boobies on Facebook. I SO have my finger on the pulse of society.

More specifically, the piece was about a breast-feeding group on Facebook that is upset about their pictures being censored. A photo of a bare breast violates the site's terms of use. The women argue breast-feeding is natural and beautiful, and they should be able to show it. Positioning, for example, might be helpful to a woman who has access to the internet but not groups of other mothers.

Having no children and, hence, never having breastfed perhaps I don't have the most informed opinion, but I'm going to have to go with Facebook on this one. They issued a statement saying they're all for breast-feeding, they agree it's both natural and beautiful, they just don't allow naked breasts on their site. I agree that women should connect over these issues. I also believe women have the right to breast feed in public, and applaud companies and businesses that make this more feasible (I've always noticed that Nordstroms has a nice "nursing area" in the ladies' room). But there is a difference between nursing your child with a blanket draped over your shoulder and whipping your mammaries out in public. Why are we so all or nothing in this society? It's all about finding a happy medium, even with nursing.

And as for the pictures on Facebook, I get nervous about putting snapshots of my niece online. I certainly don't think photos of her latching on my sister's bajongas need to be in cyber space.

(Note: K's weened - she's 1 1/2 - just an example.)

be good to your ta-ta's

The semester started Tuesday so I'm trying to get back into a normal routine. Wednesday I went back to the gym. There are multiple motivations for this. First of all, there's the stair climb in less than 3 weeks. Then there's a possible trip to Cancun coming up (more on that later). Finally, there's been a slow but steady porking up during the last few years. Gotta nip that in the bud.

I was on the stairmaster and saw this girl approaching one of the treadmills. I knew this was going to be bad news. She was a busty lady, and she was wearing an athletic top, the type you wear for yoga, maybe aerobics, but they're really not meant for high impact activity, and definitely not if you're anything over a B cup.

My last hope was that she was going to walk at a steep incline, but girl got her run on.

It was not pretty. It looked like somebody swinging 3lb sacks of flour.

So ladies, be good to your boobies. Exercise is good, but you need the right protection. Bound those babies up!

a week's work

In case it hasn't been totally obvious, I've been rockin' the suburbs, touring Assisted Living facilities, and staying part-time in the "care giver's suite" (a.k.a. my dad and uncle's childhood bedroom) at my grandparents' house. We're in what my dad has termed "fire drill mode" trying to get them set up safely.

The last two weeks I've given myself a crash course in elder services. (Not for nothing, but I feel like this merits an honorary master's in geriatric care, no? Anyone want to find me a university to confer this title upon me?)

As evidence of my efforts, and showing that I can use my neuroses for good instead of evil, I present to you the File of Infinite Knowledge and Wisdom (organizing makes me happy):

The front has sections with general info on nursing homes, assisted living, insurance, veteran's benefits and Alzheimer's. The back has the brochures on the individual facilities we've seen. I think I may have missed my calling as a geriatric case manager. Apparently, they do what I've been doing, but they get paid for it, and they make bank. I'm only charging my grandparents a 5% broker's fee when they move. It's never too late for a career change...

Higher Standards in 2009

I always tell girl friends that guys only treat you as well as you demand to be treated. If a guy is a jerk, that's on him. But if he continues to be a jerk, and you continue to stand for it, that's on you. You've given him no reason to treat you any differently. If I could do no work and still get paid, why would I change? What would my incentive be? It's the same with guys.

I need to start taking my own advice.

A couple of my other single ladies (cue Beyonce song) and I have adopted "Higher standards in 2009" as our motto.

2008 was not a good year for guys. There was the great break-up of March, followed by some first name only friends: Steve, the high school English teacher/wrestling coach (and his tall, blond friend, the border patrol agent); Francisco the Guatemalan bongo player. This summer I had not 1 but 2 Republicans (I know!). One was fiscally conservative, that I could handle, but the other turned out to actually be a non-voting Libertarian. That I couldn't handle. You don't vote? Seriously?

There was the white-water rafting guide who drove a limo in the off-season and the former crush (he worked in the snack shack where I used to life guard). Then there was the whole on-line dating thing. 1-2-3-done. (I'm restarting the counter, btw.)

The year didn't end/begin well, either. I flirted with some guy with a face like a camel for about an hour before his friend mentioned something about his wife and baby. Funny, camel-face failed to mention those aspects of his life when he was putting his wedding-ring-less arm around my waist.

So here we are now. Higher Standards in 2009!

(We fully accept the possibility that in a few years we'll be chanting "Lower Standards in 2012" or "Willing to Compromise in 2014".)

N.A.F.F.

I'm coining a new term: N.A.F.F. = Not Appropriate For Facebook.

Here's what prompted it. My ex once forwarded me an e-mail, and when I scrolled down the page there was a sonogram picture. I wondered, "Whose fetus am I looking at?!?" You should get some type of warning before you open an e-mail like that. This year I saw the picture of someone's unborn child on their Christmas card. I'm skeptical about uterine pictures in general, but that's your prerogative. So if you want your womb on Facebook, that's your call. Rock on with your sprouting spud.

A line must be drawn, however, and I drawn that line at pictures of the process. There is a picture of a former high school classmate (one of those Facebook "friends" you're not really friends with, never really were, but feel more awkward not friending than just accepting the friend request) in the hospital with her FOB (fresh out the belly) baby on her lap. That, in and of itself, is okay. The problem is that her legs are still akimbo. You can't actually see her lady bits, but there's blood on her thigh, and I'm pretty sure the umbilical cord is still attached.

Wicked N.A.F.F.

Helen's humor

Grammy's been having a tough time lately. An infection landed her in the hospital; after 4 days she was discharged only to return to the ER less than 3 hrs later. She didn't have the strength to go home and was transfered to a short term rehabilitation center/nursing home. Fortunately, she's managed to keep her sense of humor.

When she was admitted to the hospital the nurse was doing a strength test. The nurse put her arms up and told Grammy 'push, hard, like you're going to punch me.' Grammy's reply? "Don't temp me!"

The admitting doctor came in to do a mental status evaluation. She asked basic questions to make sure Grammy was oriented.
Dr: Do you know what day it is?
G: The 21? About that?
Dr: Yes, that's right, almost Christmas.
G: Ooh, did you send your letter to Santa?

Me: Grammy you told me this summer, on your 95th birthday, that if you can't laugh you should dig a hole and crawl in it.
G: I said that?
Me: Yes, you told me that.
G: Your grandfather must have been slipping me some of the Polish vodka

Starting the New Year

Happy New Year!

Somehow some friends talked me into the Race up Boston Place (alcohol may have been involved), so one of the first major events of my 2009 will involve "running" up 81 flights of stairs. Yeah, I know, I'm as surprised as you are.

I've committed to the event, sponsored by the American Lung Association. I have a minimum fundraising responsibility of $65, and our team - the "Hotsteppas" - has a goal of $500, so I am hoping to personally raise at least $100. If you'd like to donate, here's the link for our team. (I know times are tough, especially after the holidays, but every little bit really does help. Donating $5 means giving up just one beer, or Starbucks, or store-bought instead of home made sandwich, half a movie ticket, etc.)

I suppose this means I should stop taking the elevator at work...

never underestimate good neighbors

I thought I had it rough because my neighbors play Spanish music very loudly all day, every day. Well, at least I've never come home to a note like this, which a friend found today:

Photos of Christmases Past

2 very excited little girls, circa 1982?
having tea with my grandfather - I was always a very refined young lady

Steph becoming a card shark - she'd later go on to run a shuffleboard racket during our yearly summer vacations in Point Sebago, ME