“First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches. May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty. When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer. Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age. Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels. What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit. May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers. Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait. O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed. And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it. And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. “My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes. Amen.” -Tina Fey
While looking for tattoo pictures I stumbled onto that somewhere in the intweb, I laughed. Funny, I heard she was a comedian.
Hey, anybody heard of this little website called Pinterest?! It’s this new super-cool place to
post interesting waste your time!! Like we needed any more of those eh? And guess what? I’m totally on it.
Well, one day browsing Pinterest, I finally gave in and started a board on fitness and healthy eating. [Can I just say, there is so many food pinners out there that I've had to stop going on Pinterest past 7pm so I don't get the munchies!] It’s quite sad that ‘pinning’ exercises doesn’t actually burn calories, in fact I belive there’s a pin about it.
In my feverish ‘surfing’ and ‘pinning’ and ‘liking’….[what have we made of our lives?] I stumbled upon a wickedly green looking smoothie. My life was about to change drastically.
I have never been much of a smoothie person as I can see the epic amounts of hidden calories in them. I never thought they were worth it. Now pile a heap of whipping cream on top of a double cappuccino and you’re talking my language. But I digress.
Now I did it her way first, I promise, and it was oh so good. It was, however, 350 calories. I knew I could cut it back and save the nutrition and flavor. Here’s my modified version that has served as my breakfast for the past two and a half weeks.
- 3/4 c Fat Free Liberty Greek Style Yogurt with Honey – 140 calories
- 1/2 Banana, frozen in slices – 53 calories
- 4 c Spinach – 28 calories
- 1 tsp Kraft Smooth Peanut Butter – 27 calories
- 1 c of water, give or take – 0 calories
Put everything in the blender, hit ‘liquefy’ and watch. Add more water if needed. 248 Calories total.
I’ve been playing around with this a bit. This morning TF asked for a smoothie too and I know he likes blueberries so I added a cup of frozen berries. I ran out of spinach yesterday so I added a couple teaspoons of Greens Plus powder. I threw 1/2 an avocado in the other day – super silky texture! And usually I have the portioned out yogurt, so I freeze those as well.
I have become the monster.
Enjoy your week, and check out Iowa Girl!
Peace out homes.
I used to be able to throw things away with abandon. I was ruthless, (despite my middle name being Ruth), in my ‘trashing’ of so-called valued possessions. I was a cold-hearted killer of old school projects, childhood pictures, and last years tax information. Sometimes to my financial detriment. Somewhere along the lines of constantly moving, I divorced sentiment from object and was able to travel the world free, and unencumbered.
[The previous paragraph is in no way a reference to any of my books:
As I have never willingly parted with such an object. I have both the Bible and the Koran.]
a) I have to throw away tons of stuff then pack up all my stuff. No, wait…
b) I have to organize my stuff into three piles; “Keep” “Toss” and “Donate”.
Then I have to pack up my “Keep” stuff and eventually, after much
procrastination and two forgotten garbage days, throw away the “Trash”
and “Donate” stuff.
some ignored and neglected committment issues, I’m sure they’ll be fine.)
I went off course, took a wrong turn, wrong way down the one way; I enjoyed every blessed minute of it. Over the Thanksgiving weekend I not only ate three separate turkeys, (not all alone), I also read a whole book in less than ten hours. That book wasn’t on any list. That book was wonderful.
Stein’s book isn’t the most amazing novel every written, it likely won’t even make my top twenty list; however it was wildly enjoyable. I was like the monkey in the middle while joy and sorrow threw a ball back and forth and I tried to catch it. This book balances on the knife-edge of emotions and pulls you along. It’s been a long time since my heart was squeezed to tight and I had to remind myself “this is fiction settle down”.
After finishing this book I spent a 12 hour day cleaning my entire house, I even washed windows inside and out. I talked to my cat and realized he is exactly like Enzo, just less cuddly. I brined and cooked a Cornish game hen to perfection. Poultry, can’t get enough. It was a perfect holiday weekend. Happy Not-Thanksgiving Weekend everyone!
…so why don’t you kill me?
Great now hopefully I’ll get that song out of my head.
SO. It has been three days since I finished Oliver Twist, and over a week since I finished The Secret History. What am I reading now you ask? [jfeldt casts eyes down and to the left, clears her throat.] well…. nothing.
I’ve been busy. I just got back from Calgary. I’m tired? There’s been a lot of ‘catch up’ paper work at the Helicopter job. I found a new love of cooking? The horses took all my brain power… sigh. It’s this new RPG game I found.
I know, I know. But it’s true.
For those of you still with us, let me tell you a story. Once a few years back, there was this girl. She was uber-cool in every way. She read books alone all the time, she loved Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and she snorted when she laughed. She also lost roughly two hundred and twenty-four days of her life to this little game called Evony.
Evony is not a great game, the girl knew this, however her somewhat faltering social life caused her to cling not un-scarliy to the guild she was in. They talked RL they talked game. They strategized and fought each others battles. It was a real family. jk.
The girl finally decided her RL was going to sink into obscurity, and she made up her mind to leave the game. [Not really, she just sort of forgot about it and then was too ashamed to go back.] Also she started dating real boys and they frowned upon the excuse “sorry I’ve just got to farm for like two hours then I’ll call you.”
-insert break of two years and three boyfriend’s later-
The girl was recently in a long car ride travelling across the great land of Ca Na Da. She decided to check out the Apps store on her iPhone ROM10:9 to pass the long stretches of highway. She was surprised to see an RPG section, having never really played anything like that since Mist on the family’s first PC ever, she thought – “what the hay?” and gave it a whirl.
A week of not picking up a new book later, we find our girl immersed in a puddle of shame. She loves Aralon, sure there’s no guild or RL people to talk to, but she’s addicted. Love knows no boundaries right? Who says you can’t love a game? WHO SAYS!
So now that I’ve come out with all this I’ve decided to try to pick my new book! How about Dracula eh? I have a feeling I’m really going to like the part of the snivelling compelled human who falls under the supernatural power of the Count. Also I think I’ll watch some more Buffy! I just love the one where Xander falls under Dracula’s spell and keeps calling him “Master….bater” to try and fool everyone.
Plus I can totally read and play Aralon! Work may suffer though, and TBF may think I’m slightly distant…. crud.
Have you ever tried a Manhattan or three? I did on the advice from the bartender in the lounge downstairs. They are divine. I am reflecting on Calgary and I have decided: I like it.
My brother is getting married tomorrow. The cops here wear cow-boy hats and don’t think that is a reason for amusement. When you cook a cow right, it is divine. Bowmore 18-year-old is even more heavenly.
Do I wear my old boring water proof mascara tomorrow? Or the new non weepy tested stuff I really like. (It makes me feel like Twiggy.)
I just finished my speech to the groom, and I don’t have a printer here, so I’ll have to memorize it. That’s cool.
I’m going to sleep now.
Oh ya, my Delica is valley parked in the ally cause it doesn’t fit in the under ground parking. It’s real classy. The concierge keeps calling me miss, I’ve almost decided I’m some celeb in disguise but I can’t pick who I want to be more: Scarlet Johansen or Kathryn Hepburn.
I’m really tired.
So on Tuesday night I thought about packing for the trip. Of course if I actually had packed, the world would have ended or hell would have frozen over while pigs flew around my dazed head. You see I make it a point to never pack until the night before at the earliest, day of being much better suited to my procrastinatory self.
While I thought about packing I realized I had yet to plan my outfit for the rehearsal dinner. As an immediate family member I have the unique privilege of hanging with the bridal party the night before the big day. We’ll eat good food, drink good wine, and try not to break the wine glasses while smashing our cutlery into them demanding an over-use of PDA.
Alarmed at the thought of airriving in my skivies I decided the best course of action would be to drink half a bottle of my Merritage blend and try on ever dress in my closet. This quickly spiraled into slapping on some hasty smokey eye shadow, smearing on a bit too much cream blush, and twisting my hair up into a bobby pinned version of “Rufio on the cat walk”, you know, just for the total package effect. [For those of you scratching your heads trying to figure out who Rufio is, think Hook... and shake your heads in shame.] Bangarang! Anyways. So then I proceeded to prance around my house in various arrangements of dress + shoes, skirt + flats + clutch, dress + boots – tights etc. And finally I whittled the list down to two possible choices and skyped TBF. After waltzing in front of the computer in the two very different, equally brand new to the public viewing, and uber tight I-wish-my-boyfriend-was-here to zip/unzip glory. We picked this lovely outfit:
Of course it nearly goes without mentioning that this is all from www.pinupgirlclothing.com, almost. Love that site. So now I just have to go buy the miracle bra from Victoria Secrets and badabing badabang badaboom! Done.
Take care peeps, I’m most likely somewhere between Hope and Calgary in a too hot van prattling on about moth mating habits and driving TBF batty.