'Reality Television'

berry, berry good…

May 28, 2014

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they’re here! they’re here! the berries are here!

every summer, when our blackberries make their annual bloom, our old, beat-up, seen too many days in the sun, backyard-wall gets a vibrant coat of green, purple, and pink.

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no paltry, orange county-starved housewife looking berries for us; these juicy gems are plump + fat with the perfect tart to sweet ratio which makes not eating them straight off the vine a lesson in self-control and willpower.

as you’ve read before, i’m not one who’s been able to master the art of meditation.

this morning, the mindfulness i used to not apply sunscreen to my toothbrush {as has happened 4 times over the last 30 days,} was the equivalent of a mumbai ashram internment; my teeth and gums are fresh and clean, but unlike yesterday, they are subject to sunburn.

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 there’s something about berry picking though; getting my actual hands on the prickly bush, fingertips grabbing pretty stains of magenta, butterflies humming around the berry blossoms, and the gentle, warm weather we’ve been having of late beckoning me to stay outside longer than i typically do—it all charms me into my own meditative trance.

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speaking of unbreakable catatonia….this one did not bat one inky eyelash off her mamma.

the fear of missing a fallen berry is paramount in priscilla’s world.

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meanwhile jones just helped himself straight from the vine.

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i wish i could say i whipped up a fantastic berry fool {aptly named, yes?} or that i swept hunkiest off his feet with a homemade blackberry cobbler {the one dessert i can make.}

but alas these popcorn-size bites of blue-violet bliss barely made it to the sink for a wash, before i gobbled them down like a hungry, hasty giant.

one need not have their own blackberry vines to experience the joy of the berry season. get thyself down to your farmers market {such a blogging cliché i know–i just gagged on my own vomit.} farmers markets are teeming with berries right now and it will make you so angry and guilty to see how much less expensive and better tasting they are than the stuff in our commercial markets {yes i’m talking about YOU whole foods!!!}

so talk to me goose: what’s your favorite ways to eat blackberries?

a berry-good wednesday m’loves.

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9 days

March 12, 2013

sick9 full days now of “influenza.”

my doctor won’t call it the flu, he insisted on repeating the above, four syllabic, flowery, italian sounding word for my week plus, bed-ridden affliction. i’m not sure if this was his way of getting me to lie low: dress it up in a fancy name to get me sign up for the bed rest?

it worked. i have been a patient patient, and tomorrow i return to full duty. but i think i need a handicap pass; for body and for brain.

my stairway does feel like it’s taking me to heaven, each tread gets higher and steeper every time i climb back up to bed.

my head is a tacky, christmas snow globe with a mountain-dew nutritioned child trying to make the glitter shake harder! harder! harder in my face!

i have fever hang-over. too much light, too-fast movement, or too-complex of thought re-singes little tinders of burn on my brain. 

my fever carried such hallucinations and shakes, saturday night when hunkiest and i rented “life of pi,” my movie experience was in its full 3-D splendor causing me to flit, sweat, swat at my talking pajamas, runaway from the sofa who growled, and belly laugh at my fleece blanket’s stand-up routine. 

i hope for mankind’s sake i was still hallucinating on sunday when i “dreamt” i was watching a new bravotv reality series entitled “vanderpump rules;” i may take to bed for the rest of the year if it proves these people really do exist in real life. 

so there it is. that’s where i’ve been. did i miss anything? i must say, the week-plus break from social media, email, etc. although somewhat forced has been kind of nice.

tuesday love to you.

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scenes from a weekend….

May 14, 2012

monday goodness to you m’loves.

today mr. sunshine stalks me like an undeniable 8th grade crush. he won’t leave me alone, and i LOVE it.

peeping in through my windows, spying on me early in the morning as i try to bathe, following me to and from my car at the gym, this guy means business; sunny days are here to stay: bring on the happy, the jaunt in your step, it’s a grand journey, this roller coaster ride of a world.

albeit exhausting, my weekend was a crock pot of all the ingredients in my life that make it full and delicious: work, family, friends & beasts.

saturday began with two intense classes. first an early morning equinox spin where we rang up watts and rpms that got the facebook and twitter status’ all a-flutter. then i hurried off to yogaworks where i taught my last pilates fusion class after 8 years. a bittersweet hour indeed, for i’ve come to love many, dear people there.

but i’m moving on to a new studio…..more on that to come.

the race to never slow down continued in saturday’s on-going pilates training. we worked the cuckoo-clock out of double-leg kick, and then broke out into an impromptu let’s see why all of us pilates/yoga instructors are always in so much pain.

lisa, our trainer, concluded me: overworked.

{ba dum bump}

reinforcements are always important for these types of trainings. i feel like room mom. i make sure to repeatedly stock the studio with chocolate for my girls. it just keeps for an overall mood of silly and light during these long, tiresome days.

sunday morning was for mother. we brunched hard!

i go ladylike in dress only……truck driving, foul-mouthed, hip-checking, elbow throwing linebacker is how i typically like to work my buffet. the heels provide for a nice disguise.

i went downward dog deep into the cheese station. this morning i was still finding remnants of humboldt fog in my hair, and i’m pretty sure there’s a housewife nursing a bruised shin today; sorry, but when tater tots are on the line, i go for blood. i don’t care if they are for your kids.

after my 5 plate binge i had to go right back to pilates….here’s priscilla showing her protest.

i felt her pain. the last thing i wanted to do after eating for 12 was rocking swan dive. i miss my family, but the always-have-to-be-working-psycho in me won yesterday’s battle between beast and mommy. i think it was my first victory ever with priscilla.

after hours of neutral spine, low belly engagement, and knitting my ribs so shut i had to call a locksmith to open them back up, i finally retreated to my bath.

i’m convinced a 2 hour bath can do more than any drink, pill and ice cream sundae to soothe a tired, stressed girl’s soul. using salts and oils from my beloved melissa, i drifted into a drowsy, bliss of dreams sweet.

a weekend happy indeed.

tell me m’loves about your weekend. please share with me your adventures and smiles.

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From true friend to celebrity parasite

November 12, 2009

I have a feeling that’s what I’m about to become people. And I’m totally fine with it. Let me explain.

The d-bag factor in Orange County is extreme. I have to be tip toe light, lest i step in the way of  your canary yellow H2 Hummer, as you drive adorned in your storm rider, True Religion, boot cut jeans in a deep shade of “body rinse,” with your painted on Buffalo graphic, rock star rivet, long-sleeve tee, and obligatory (thank you John) Ed Hardy hoodie. Costumed up like this, you guys merely waste time driving around Newport at two in the afternoon on a Wednesday afternoon, smoking cigarettes and blaring Nickelback. Except for when you, oh so mannerly, turn the volume down trying to get girls’ cell phone numbers at stop lights (cuz that works.) And you always seem to end up at cougar den Javier’s so you can have an audience to see you bark “park my baby up front.” (I swear to god, EVERYTIME i go there some jack-ass says this to one of the hardworking valets.)

Don’t these men know they scream: “Look at me!!!! Look at me!!!! Over here!!!! Over here!!! I’m absolutely TERRIBLE in BED!!!”?

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What’s sad is this is the standard here. Apparently, I’m the snarky biznatch with no sense of humor or taste. So when I do find those rare, fetching fellows like my love, Marcos Prolo, I hold on for dear life and cherish every knook and cranny of time spent together. Yesterday, we were able to play work together on a shoot for Avia shoes. It will be his last anonymous day. Tonight he premieres, and I want you all to watch and fall in love just like i have. Although as we know with these shows; editing is key. Up until now, I’ve refused to watch this show due to the fact I live in this ridiculous bubble everyday. Isn’t television supposed to be about escapism? But I’m supporting my original kitten. Because after this when he’s a big star (as he should be) i’m hopefully still going to happily be his little bitch, sycophant, or like i said earlier, star-sucking parasite!!!

Here’s some shots of today:

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Her arm cramped from all the cover-up she had to apply.

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Me with the next big Bravo star!!!

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