Entries from September 2013

back on the wagon…..

September 30, 2013


before the ice cream blitz of 2013, initiated in maine, where a daily serving of homemade creamy love became as ritualistic as teeth-brushing, hunkiest and i were doing well on the nutrition wagon.

afterlight (13)

we were eating 100% organic produce and turning our first world noses up at processed food.

in fact, even on vacation we made it a priority to still maintain this regimen; save for the sometimes double doses of mint chip.

buying vegetables and fruits from the actual organic, residential farms was a new and delicious experience for us.

afterlight (11)

cruising our rent-a-car into someone’s backyard was color me rad!

it didn’t get much more farm-to-table than this.

afterlight (12)

the blueberries, seconds-ago picked off the bush, actually tasted more dessert worthy than ice cream.

afterlight (14)

onions in their most natural form tasted apple-like they were so sweet.

afterlight (9)

and i’m so embarrassed to admit this, but never in my life have i eaten a carrot looking like this. my carrots, even the bagged, organic ones from the store, have always had the exact same shape, color, size, and taste. the ignorant dumb girl within me didn’t think about how strange it is to have carrots assembly line perfect.

i had been so missing out on the nuanced flavor of REAL, unprocessed carrots.


well this weekend, things got REAL for us too.

my thighs have been writing checks my pants can’t cash.

and hunkiest keeps patting his tummy for good-luck.

things had to change.

we reverted back to our local grown, farmers market ways, and we couldn’t feel better.

it astounds me how much better food tastes when there are less machines, people, and transportation involved.

the salad i made last night with this green-leaf lettuce needed only a touch of olive oil and a squeeze of lemon.

i felt like a gourmand eating a dish so delicious.


the ultimate in satisfaction: the honey crisp apples, in season now, are at their sublime ratio of candy-like and tart.

we mowed them down, competition like.

the best part of this post is that i’m writing to you, this morning, not feeling like a tired, bloated, beached hippo.

healthy nutrition is truly the best medicine.

friday i’m in love

September 27, 2013


friday bubbles of champagne to you m’loves!

has the week treated you kindly?

did you throw arrows and darts at your fears? sew cashmere mittens and cosset the face of your clover?

i did.

last night i conquered one of my biggest banes: i cooked.

okay it was an arugula salad, whose only ingredients consisted of lettuce, olive oil and lemon….but in my version of the story, that is cooking.

it’s muthafuckin’ iron chef actually.

 i loved it…almost as much as i love the face of my “jones” staring up at me, unblinking, as i try to watch fall tv.

here are a few of my other friday loves:


handwritten notes from the ones i adore.

is there anything better?

it doesn’t have to be a novel; even a post-it in the mail can have lasting, fuzzy effects.


i wrote about this yesterday, but this ice cream is so crazy good i had to show you.

where do i start? the dark chocolate pudding you can actually taste? or the pieces of chocolate stout cake that seemed to have miraculously not turned soggy amongst all the creamy rightness.

get thee to your nearest frozen food aisle, STAT.


this robe.

i’m in love with my new robe.

priscilla is fond of it too; she keeps snatching the belt when i’m in the bathtub to make headbands and a noose for her brother.

when i slip this fancy-pants robe on, i immediately feel like a disney princess.

…..typically mulan, but that’s just because we look  similar.


puffs of happy and gratitude flurry out of this ever inconstant teapot i call “life.”

 this week i had two, separate conversations where friends and i marveled at the beauty of choice.

even the most ridiculously overjoyed people in this world have some sort of heartache going on in their life; but they don’t let the dark define them, they opt for the gratitude depiction of their biography instead. 

i love these souls.

care to share in the love?

what’s making your heart and spirit patty-cake all over town?

see you on the other side of sunday m’loves.


people are strange…

September 26, 2013


there’s a weird in the air.

like the undeniable, artificial, white sugary scent of halloween candy, pitchforking all senses as i skulk up and down the aisles of my local, big-chained grocery store, white knuckling purchases of pepsi, cheetos, and other ALS-unfriendly buys on her list; there’s a distinct waft of bizarre and unwise permeating my world.


do you have a weight window?

you know like a pocket of pounds you allow yourself, both up and down, where either your baggy, loose-fitting, billowy shifts start constrict scuba suit-like, or your skinny, leather pants get so slack you start toting baby kangaroos around in them?

i allow a very altruistic window. in the last three months it’s become more like a double-set of wide, ceiling to floor, french doors.

and i give myself permission to adjust. it’s the accommodating, wanting to be liked, please-don’t-talk-shit-about-me-behind-my back-but-if-you-do-i’ll-still-love-you, nature within me.

all this much to the dismay of my matron of honor dress that needs to fit by october 27th.

my solution to a smaller waist has been a diet brimming full of chocolate covered macadamia nuts and steve’s brooklyn blackout ice cream.

i’m surprised it’s not working too!?


thank you raquel for letting me know i’m no longer a “maid of honor,” but the aforementioned “matron;” as if i didn’t already feel betty white status with my newly acquired night sweats: a pajama & sheet-changing, 2am occurrence that “puzzles” my doctor and does not turn my husband on.


i’m now going on my fourth night of sleep where i dream this cat is mine.

mine, as in i live with and work for her, butler-ing to her every feline whim and fancy.

she only eats whole foods wild-caught salmon, insists i read her sylvia plath poetry, and barks like a baby fox when i scratch behind her ears.

paging dr. freud.


what’s most abnormal and sci-fi out of all these askew situations is that i couldn’t be more jolly green giant.

santa claus belly and sweaty, sleepless nights aside, i am the most content i’ve been in decades.

strange, huh?

i told you it was in the air.

you may now proceed with the shit-talking.

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