Ode to useless teeth...

I want to know what the purpose of wisdom teeth is. I mean, really! I barely know anyone that has had their wisdom teeth grow in normally and not have to have them removed.

They come in during your early twenties, don't do a damn thing but grow all sorts of sideways and press against your other teeth, and if you're lucky.. you get to wake up to excruciating pain in your jaw one morning. Oh, and if you're really lucky, this will occur at a point in your life when you have no dental insurance and have just moved to a new state. You now have the pleasure of navigating public transportation, with a swollen jaw, at 6 in the flippin' morning.. and go stand on a ridiculously long line (so long that although the place opens at 9, you have to be there by 7) just to allow a dental student.. a STUDENT! to "practice" (you know, so he/she knows how to do it correctly on people who can actually PAY for a real dentist) pulling your teeth out of your mouth. I am that lucky.

I hate the dentist.

I had the pleasure of having braces from the time I was 8 years old until I graduated 8th grade at age 14. Six years. Six years of weekly visits to the orthodontist. Six years of Novocain, teeth pulling, wire tightening, rubber bands, saliva suctions, spitting nasty gunk into that mini toilet bowl. Six years of this ridiculous contraption they used to hold your lips away from your teeth and gums and just leave you like that for hours (and being that I am so lucky, I always got placed in the front room .. so that everyone walking by to the other rooms could look in at me and stare).

Apparently, it's called a "cheek retractor," according to Google. 

She looks absolutely lovely, doesn't she? o_O

Six years of riding the bus home looking like a deformed chipmunk, cotton falling out of my mouth with every pothole. Six years of walking past this sign every week:

Damn liars.

The day I had my braces removed, I cried from the sheer joy of knowing I'd never have to see the inside of that office again. Never have to see that pencil of a man, goggle-wearing, comb-over having, stupid mustache sportin', heavy breathing orthodontist again!!!!

Then he told me I had to wear retainers. And come back once a month.

Hell. To. The. No.

 See? Even my baby daddy is appalled.

I didn't wear my retainer (yes, my teeth moved, but it's not even noticeable..kinda), and I never went back.

Since then, I forced myself to go have my teeth cleaned, and have two cavities (only ones I've ever had in my life) filled. But that's it. As a matter of fact, that butt-faced orthodontist sneakily put in a permanent retainer on the back of my lower teeth, which I was supposed to have him remove after 3 years. I never went back, so guess what? Yep. I'm 30.. and its still bonded to the back of my teeth. Needless to say, I'm sure they're going to have a field day tomorrow.

So, here I am. Anxious and unable to sleep. Just to make myself more stressed out, I'm weighing the pros and cons of local anesthesia versus asking then to knock me the #&% out. I don't even know if I have the option, since it's a low cost clinic. But, if I do.. that opens up a whole other can of worms. Do I want to be awake for this? Or would I rather be asleep and completely oblivious to the dental student possibly muttering the word "Ooops!"? What if I do go under and have a bad reaction and never...gulp..wake up?

Oh, who am i kidding? Like I said, it's a low cost clinic with the work performed by dental students. I'll be lucky if they tie my tooth to a string and slam a door.

Maybe I'll get a lollipop.

Pray for me.

Namaste bitches!
-D.

Gluttony at its finest...

Well Happy Tuesday people. I have lots to post so I'll get on with it. I'll start with the weekend food reviews and make them as short and sweet as possible... you know I'm so lying.

Thursday night we went to Dedham (don't remember for what specifically at the moment) and passed by an IHOP and got a craving for Brinner. Now, I normally wouldn't consider IHOP to be blog-worthy, but they have these new pancakes flavors and well, one of them is New York Style Cheesecake. Yes, pancakes. served with strawberries and whipped cream. Yum. They melted in my mouth and had little chunks of graham cracker in them. Now in NYC, the only time I really go to IHOP is at 4 or 5 am after a night of clubbing and lots of drinking. But I would totally go at a reasonable hour, sober, for these pancakes. N. had some bacon-ator chees-a-fied omelet. It was..meh. We had leftovers, so we got a doggie bag. Literally. Since, Maya was happily waiting in the car.

She's a beast. She didn't even breathe, or chew for that matter.

K, on to Friday. Picked up my mom from the bus station and went to have dinner at Masa. We've gone here for brunch a few times, but never for dinner. We shared a few appetizers and a main course (still on a budget here.. Obama is still my baby daddy but he hadn't actually paid his child support bill yet). We got the ceviche which was awesome flavor-wise but a pain in the butt to eat, since you basically had to chop it up yourself. They served a whole piece of fish, and huge slices of avocado and jalapeño. I mean jeez, isn't this the reason I'm paying for food at a restaurant. If I wanted to make ceviche myself, I would have done that crap in my own kitchen. We also had the Mofongo, which wasn't traditional by any means. It was made with yucca instead of platanos and had coconut milk and braised beef short ribs in it. Orgasmic. Even my mom liked it, surprisingly since she was already judging it from the menu description. She turned up her nose and said "Tha iiis no MOFONGO!" She took one bite and then didn't say another word. Just kept shoveling forkfuls into her mouth. We also had chili dusted frites with cotija cheese. Also pretty good. 

We shared the Carne Asada for the entree. This didn't go over very well with my mom. My mom has to have her steak well done and this was barely medium. The flavors were good but she couldn't bring herself to eat it, even if she turned over and looked away. I'll admit, it was even too rare for N. and I. Oh well, you can't win them all. Dessert was less than stellar also. We had some lime-peach brulee thing. It was as small as a thimble and too tart. The drinks were pretty good at least. N. and I had hibiscus caipirinhas. It's the only thing I got a picture of since they practically make you eat in the dark.

On Saturday morning, we took my mom to Sorella's for brunch. This is the most amazing place to have brunch in Boston in my opinion. It's nothing fancy. The place is in a converted house with basic decor (most of the menu is handwritten on pieces of paper and taped to the walls).

 They don't have a website, and they only accept cash, but the food is to die for. They have everything you could imagine eating for breakfast. The menu might actually make you dizzy with all the choices. Everything tastes fresh and like it was cooked with love, just for you. Trust me, you have to eat here if you're even in Boston. I would even suggest a pilgrimage to Boston just for the experience. They have a ridiculous variety of omelets, french toast (made from any bread you can imagine), pancakes, etc. I had... wait I have to take a second and pause in loving memory of these pancakes....              ..OK. I had pumpkin pancakes. With cream cheese on top. And strawberries. Words cannot even describe. I made the mistake of taking one bite before I pulled out my camera. It was over after that. So, yea... no pictures. My mom had plain french toast with eggs and home fries. I kid you not when I tell you that these were hands down the BEST French toast I've ever had. And I've eaten a LOT of French Toast. N. had some Acapulco Polenta thing, dripping with cheese and avocados. Then as if we weren't in heaven already as it is, they served us giant CUPS of mimosas..for $3.95.

We needed stretchers to take us back to the car. We had a whole day of "things to do" planned, but after that smorgasbord, we were done. DONE. Spent the rest of the day on the couch watching movies.

Sometime later in the evening, when we finally were able to think about eating again... we turned on the grill and made some teriyaki pork chops with acorn squash, and drank some tequila. Then, we all fell into a food and tequila induced coma.

Because we are, apparently, gluttons for punishment, I got up early Sunday and made breakfast on the grill. By the time my mom and N. got up, breakfast was served! Mesquite steak (yes, I grilled steak at 9am..so?), grilled polenta and greens with tomatoes and plums in a balsamic vinaigrette (with fresh thyme and basil from our garden). I also made a pitcher of plum Bellini. o_O

hmm, I seemed to have left out the egg in that description.. and the garlic toast too.

My mom... enjoying her brunch in our yard.

Listen, N. and I decided at the start of the weekend that enough is enough. We need to get serious about watching what we eat and exercising. We do NOT want to be that couple, rolling each other down the sidewalk. We've each put on around 10-15 pounds in the past few months and this is where we draw the line.

So, I guess we went a little overboard this weekend with our final meals of gluttony and what not. But, so far so good. Yesterday we had homemade fruit and yogurt smoothies for breakfast and lean cuisines for lunch. For dinner, we had leftover teriyaki pork-chops with pesto garlic mashed FAKEtatoes (mashed cauliflower) and broccoli. For dessert, I took one scoop of Skinny Cow Dulce de Leche ice cream, rolled it around some crushed Special K and topped it with a tablespoon of sugar free maple syrup. Totaling less than 100 calories per serving! See? We can be healthy food addicts!

I'm trying to get N. to get up earlier and do yoga with me. She's not fond of that idea. She's agreed to go walking around JP pond with me after work though...and possibly increase to light jogging (hey, this is great progress for her so I'm taking what I can get). I had to threaten her yesterday when she tried to buy a chocolate bar at lunch (she got a nutrigrain bar instead), and today I put an apple in her lunch bag (I'm sure it will still be there when she gets home tonight).

Gosh, this post was all about food, huh? Not talking about food might prove to be difficult, especially since I will now be depriving myself of it. But, I shall try.

So, in other news (which is not really exciting, but it is when you are unemployed and have nothing better to do), we decided to have a yard sale in a couple of weeks. I've been sorting through all our crap in the basement and deciding what we will sell and what we will keep. We have acquired quite a bit of junk for two people that only moved in less than 6 months ago. After the basement is all cleaned up, I'll finally get to set up my art space! See, now that is exciting.

OK, OK...no bacon.

Namaste bitches!

-D.

Obama is my Baby Daddy!

Happy Friday everyone! I am off the wall today. I am having an absolutely wonderful day! Why, you ask? (Well, since none of you seem to talk back to me, I'm just going to go ahead and speak for you). Well, for starters, I am still reeling over the fact that I finally got a J-O-B! ::does a cartwheel::  Also, I've been painting our front and back porches the past few days, and it's looking mighty nifty. We also found this faux brick paneling that looks so real that no one will guess we don't actually have an exposed brick wall in our living room. Oh, and yesterday we found a portable air conditioner for sale on craigslist (it was a steal!), so I no longer have to sit in front of the fan with a cold glass of ice (sometimes with liquor in it!) pressed against my face. Can you since the happiness building?

But, it gets better. So, I did get a job, but.. said job doesn't begin until August 30th. This means I still have another month and change to survive with practically no money and N. paying most of the bills. Damn Republicans played their little filibuster game and stalled my unemployment extension! So, I was forced to start selling my life away. I don't have a first born child to sell, so I put some of my textbooks from last semester on sale on Half.com. Today a whopping (hey, money is money) $119 was deposited in my account! Then, just for shits and giggles.. I decided to check the unemployment website (although it's said the same "You're not getting crap!" message for the past month and a half) and wouldn't you know... I am now getting unemployment again. AND... it's RETROACTIVE! So, I will be getting all the checks I didn't get in the past month and a half all at once (and just in time, since the mortgage is due next week)! I feel like I just won the lottery. This is the best Friday ever!!!

Due to his immense contribution to my (and N.'s by default) happiness, I would like to dedicate this post to Barack Obama. I heart Obama.

Just for today, I've decided that I love him so much that he is my "Baby Daddy." Michelle is just going to have to back up for 24 hours (although I know she could totally whoop my butt..have you seen those biceps?). Yes, I know my sexual orientation makes this pretty strange (and the fact that I'm practically married.. sorry babe!), but I don't care. He deserves "Baby daddy" status today. And, just to make this official... according to Morphthing.com, this is what our love child would look like:

Not bad, huh?

She totally got her daddy's big ears though. Now she'll be made fun of all through elementary school. Poor thing.

Well, now that I'm done thanking Obama for my good fortune, I must go thank the spirits. My mom said I have to go light a bunch of candles and stuff, so off I go. Oh, and the icing on my happiness cake is that my mom is on her way here to spend the weekend with me! Yay!

Namaste bitches!

-D.

Guess who got a J-O-B?!

Happy Wednesday (invisible, possibly non-existent) readers! I know, I know... I haven't posted in like a week. But, I blame this on all of you (or the one or two of you) actually reading my sporadic blogging. It's hard to stay motivated when half the time, I feel like I'm talking into an abyss. I know I have some readers (due to my page visit counter thing-a-ma-jig), but since I have no followers as of yet, and two comments (both posted by people I know outside of Blogworld).. I could very well be talking to myself. I'm used to talking to myself, so I guess it's all good. Despite my typical conversations with myself, it's still nice to know that someone is listening. Anyone? Hello?...

OK, well I'm going to keep writing, and hopefully you (whoever you are) will keep reading.

So, I'm having a great flippin' week. Guess who got a J-O-B?!

Yep, I am now, once again, a member of the workforce (well technically not until August 30th, but who's talking about technicalities here?). Come September, I will be teaching preschool. In Spanish. Pray for me, ya'll.

Of course, N. and I had to do a little celebrating. Just before the weekend, we tried this new place in the South End called The Gallows. We've been hearing great things about it, and since it is literally like 5 minutes from our house we decided to give it a shot. Oh, and we heard that they have poutine. If you don't know what poutine is, you better ask somebody! We had it in Toronto and have had a love affair with it since (of course it is very rare to find it in the States, so guess how excited we were!).

It's been dubbed a gastropub, so we though we could get away with a couple of drinks and a few appetizers and not have to wash dishes after our meal. Boy were we wrong. Don't misunderstand me, the prices were decent. It's just that the menu made my mouth water and the waiter's description of dishes made it completely impossible to just order a "few appetizers." But let me go back for a minute and describe the "scene" before I get into the food. The scene: absolutely no diversity. I felt like I walked into a "whites only" restaurant in the Jim Crow South. Not one brown face in the packed-to-brim restaurant. We walked in and about 75 sets of eyes followed us to our table. But, after about 2 minutes, everyone went back to their food and conversation and forgot about the two Hispanic lesbians. Our (very gay) waiter came over and made up for the "uncomfortable" entrance. He was awesome.

OK so back to the food... The food was absolutely wonderful. We had two appetizers: the poutine (of course) and the Little Neck stuffers.

poutine

Little Neck Stuffies

The poutine was to die for. The gravy.. I wanted to pour it in a tub and bathe in it. Yea, I know that sounds gross, but talk to me again once you try this stuff. The cheese curds were a bit different (more ricotta/cottage cheese texture) than the poutine we've had in Canada, but delicious nonetheless. The Little Neck Stuffies were.. OK. We weren't blown away. The main course, however, was.. well let me just say that I caught N. closing her eyes while she chewed a couple of times. We shared the brisket with this tangy salsa over it, served with fried eggplant and a cucumber yogurt sauce (I think). N. is now on a mission to recreate this dish at home. I'll let you know how that turns out.

Sorry, no pic of the brisket. We attacked it faster than I could grab my camera.

After dinner, they serve you this yummy soft serve ice cream in a cone. Which was good, because we ordered the flour-less chocolate cake and it was ..meh. All in all, The Gallows gets thumbs up for the food and decor, but thumbs down on the ambiance (no diversity and way too loud). Oh, and they lose points for this in the women's bathroom:

O_o

The weekend went by too quickly. N.'s family came over on Saturday for a spontaneous BBQ and slip n' slide party. We went out to a bar called Wonderbar with N.'s sis later that night. Had a good time, although I'm starting to think there really is no hope for the bar/club scene in Boston. Hot messes everywhere and not one DJ worth a crap anywhere to be found. N. was a bit hungover the next day, so she got a Dominican breakfast courtesy of moi- full of grease and carbs (not me, the breakfast). YUM!

Sunday, we spent the day at Ikea and got new covers for our Tylosand couches. It looks so pretty. I can't wait to finish the living room. Today, I'm attempting to repaint the front and back porches, all by myself. N. has forbidden me to paint anything any other color than the colors she has approved (she is so afraid she's going to come home to a hot pink door and a rainbow colored porch). I'm also not allowed "decorate" the outside of the house, without her approval, either. So, I'm sticking to a nuetral palette of walnut brown for the porch floors and ultra white for the trims. Oh, and I got this pretty blue called River Rock(or something like that) for accents. What? I need color. Otherwise, our house will look just like everyone else's... and that is simply unacceptable.

I hope N. realizes that the only thing keeping my "decorating" under control is not her, but rather, my lack of funds. Boy, is she going to be overjoyed when I actually have income. I'm going to have to get a camera set up to record her expression everyday when she walks in the door and sees my new creations!

Alright invisible readers, off to paint the porch I go. But first, I will leave you with some pics of Maya's 5th birthday celebration. She got a Pupcake from KickAss Cupcakes and presents. Don't laugh. Birthdays are special in this house...even for the pets.

Happy Birthday Maya! (Ignore the crap on the floor in the background. K thanks.)

She got a winter coat! Yea, i know it's the middle of summer, but it was on sale. You get what you get and you don't get upset!

It wasn't his birthday, but Blue Bear got a Pupcake too because he's cute.

Just because she looked adorable in N.'s hat. ::shrugs::

Namaste bitches!

-D.

I'd rather bake a cake...

So, I woke up today all motivated with a list of things I needed to get done...many of them involving a car. I was all set to drop N. off at work and get going, but as soon as we pull out of the driveway, we hear the dreaded THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! of a flat tire. Sigh.

So back into the driveway we go. N. calls a cab and Maya (one of my dogs who was coming along for the ride) goes back into the house. Now, I've changed a tire once before about 10 years ago when I had my Mustang.. but I figured it's like riding a bike right? I guess, it wasn't a good sign that I couldn't even find the spare tire. I called my dad (because this lovely station wagon used to be his.. it was his "you're moving to Boston and need a reliable car" gift to me) to ask him where I it was. I mean, seriously, how many places can you hide a tire? So he tells me where it is, but then proceeds to do his normal "dad" thing.This is my dad's trademark. You can NEVER EVER just call him and ask him a simple question. I expected the conversation to go something like this:

Me: Dad, where is the spare tire in my car?

Dad: It's in the _______.

Me:  OK, thanks Dad! Talk to you later.

Dad:  OK, bye!

It didn't go like that at all. Went something like this:

     Me: Dad, where is the spare tire in my car?

     Dad: Your car is on fire?

     Me: No, daddy. I said Where is the spare tire in my car?

     Dad: The spare tire in my car?

     Me: No. In my car, Dad.

     Dad: Do you have a flat tire?

     Me: Yes, dad. That's why I'm asking you where the spare tire is.

     Dad: Are you on the road? Where are you? Stay in the car! Is it the tire on the side where there's traffic?  

     Stay in the car!

     Me: I'm in my driveway, dad. Daddy?

     Dad: Yea?

     Me: Where's the spare tire?

     Dad:  It's in the back, behind the left panel.

     Me: OK, thanks. I'll call you later.

     Dad: Huh? No. Wait. Listen to me. You need to ask a neighbor or someone to help you. You can't 

     change that tire by yourself. You're not going to be able to loosen the nuts. If you put the jack in the 

     wrong place, the car will fall and crush you! Also, make sure you put the emergency brake on and put a   

     piece of wood or a brick behind the front tire so the car doesn't roll back and crush you! You need to ask 

     someone to help you...

     Me: Daddy?

     Dad: Yea?

     Me: It's a tire. I think I can change a tire without killing myself. And, if I can't get the nuts loose or lift the   

     car, then I'll call triple A. I have them. I just don't want to waste one of my three free assistance's with a  

     flat tire... in my own driveway. I'll be fine Dad, really. I'll call you later.

     Dad: But, you'll be crushed!

     Me: I'll talk to you later Dad.

o_O

I pull out the tire and get the hubcap off. I try to loosen the bolts, and nada. N. gives it a try and manages to get one off, but she stops because her hands are getting dirty and she can't go to work dirty and her cab is here and... Bye! So, I keep trying. Nothing. My phone rings again:

     Me: Hi, Dad.
     Dad: Listen, I really think you should call triple A. Do you have an W-40. Go get some W-40 and spray
     it on the bolts. Is your driveway on a hill?
     Me: No, Dad. It's not on a hill.
     Dad: Are you sure? Because if the ground is slanted, the car is gonna roll back on you. You also need  
     something hard like a piece of wood to put the jack on because it will sink into the ground if you don't.
     Me: Dad?
     Dad: Yea?
     Me: My driveway is made of asphalt. The jack isn't going to sink into asphalt. I'll call you later, dad.

Well, I wasn't able o get the nuts loose. I gave up after trying for 20 minutes. I even stood on the damn wrench thing. So I called my good friend, J. I call him every time I have car trouble. He laughs at me and then he magically appears on my doorstep and fixes my problem. In the rain... in the snow. So yea.. he's coming over after work to change my damn tire.

Now, I know you're all sitting there absolutely appalled by my damsel in distress attitude. I guess it's pretty ironic that the back of my car is covered in feminist bumper stickers (such as "A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle) but here I am, waiting for a man to come change my tire. I'm sure this will surely get me thrown out of the lesbian club for sure. Oh well. I'm not a damsel in distress. I can work a drill. I can lift heavy crap.. up two flights of stairs. Hell, I can even build shelves and use a damn circle saw! I'm not afraid of bugs, snakes, or getting dirty. But, when it comes to cars? A blank stare comes over my face, I blink dazedly, I tie my little 50's apron on and go inside and bake a cake.

Namaste bitches!


-D.

Bubbles, Pie and Kickass Cupcakes!

Happy Monday, people. OK well, it's almost over. I'm late..sue me. I meant to blog early today, but I got caught up with my damn EEC certification crap. The second interview/demo class went really really well on Friday. All I'm waiting for now is for my references to be checked out and that I have all my qualifications for my certification..which is a royal pain in the ass. You don't even know what a relief it was when I walked into that office after the demo class and the CEO said she absolutely loved the class. I swore it was over for me when one of the kids sucked up the bubbles instead of blowing out, and another child picked up the container of purple-dyed bubble juice and just poured down the front of her white blouse. But apparently, this school is really as amazing as they seem and LOVE to see kids making a mess. So I pretended that this was exactly what I meant to happen and TADA! Two points for me.

So, in celebration of a job well done (still cross your fingers though because I can't count those chickens just yet) N. and I decided that we should treat ourselves to some yummy food. Of course, we're still broke because I don't actually have the job yet, so we had to settle for something semi-affordable. I've been wanting to check out this place in Newton called Pie, so that's where we went. It's a bakery/café that even serves wine and beer, and of course..pie.

The place is pretty cute. Nice tables with comfy booth-like benches in the front, and a counter in the back where you order your food. That was a bit confusing at first. We weren't sure if we seated ourselves or  waited to be seated, or whether we had to go up and order or wait for a waitress. We finally figured out that you sit wherever the heck you want, go order your food and/or drinks, pay and then go back and relax until a waitress brings over your stuff. I would have preferred straight up waitress service for customers staying, and reserved the counter for take-out orders. N. liked this set up though. She said she liked ordering and paying and getting that out of the way, so you don't have to worry about waiting for your bill or being rushed out.

So, I ordered a mimosa, and N. ordered a glass of Pinot Grigio. Like I said, we were trying to stay on a budget (plus we had plans for dessert somewhere else), so we split an appetizer and one of their savory hand pies. We had the crab cake special, served with a spicy coleslaw and the "Philly" style Beef and Cheese Hand pie. The crab cakes were amazing. N. said they very well could have been the best crab cakes she ever had. I thought they were good, although not the best I've ever had. They were light and airy as opposed to heavy and dense like traditional crab cakes. They also had a fresh flavor... very summery. The coleslaw was.. disappointing, along with the hand pie. It was dry and there was nothing "Philly-esque" about it. The cheese was non-existent. I'd definitely go back though and try something else. They have a glass partition on one side in the back so you have a clear view of the kitchen and can watch all the baking being done. Everything tasted really fresh, and the menu was filled with things I would love to try... I'll just pass on the Hand pies.

You would think we would have tried the regular pies at a place called.. Pie, but we had something even better in store for dessert.. Kickass Cupcakes (in Somerville)! We've been hearing about this place for a while and given my dessert obsession.. I had to go. I looked up the menu online and almost had an orgasm just from reading some of their amazing cupcake concoctions. We parked down the street and on the way there from the car, we discovered that When Pig's Fly Bakery was right next door! OMG. They make delicious artisan bread. They usually sell the classic ones (like whole wheat and sourdough, etc.) at Trader Joe's, and some Stop N' Shops I think. But, they also make crazy flavors that you usually can't find at other stores (we found them at the SOWA open market). So, we forgot all about Kickass Cupcakes for a second and found ourselves gazing at all the delectable breads. We got a loaf of Mango, Pineapple, Raisin with Toasted Sesame and Ginger (that's a mouthful, huh). Oh, and we also got a jar of their cranberry onion red pepper jelly.  o_O

On to Kickass Cupcakes! So, they have two stores. The cupcakes shop and.. the Dairy Bar. N. wouldn't even let me go in. She dragged me away while I screamed "Gelatoooooooo!!!!!" She pushed me into the cupcake shop, where both our mouths hung open as we took in the variety. Then N. almost fainted when she saw they had deep fried cupcakes... served with ice cream and whipped cream. Can we say triple bypass?

So we grabbed 3 cupcakes (and one doggie cupcake they call PupCakes! :-D) and ran out of there before we bought one of each thing they had. 

We couldn't even wait till we got home, so we tore those cupcakes up in the car. We got (bottom..clockwise from left) the Mojito cupcake, the S'mores cupcake, and the Cookie Dough one. 

My favorite was the Mojito. N. liked the Cookie Dough one. She liked the S'mores

So that's it for my weekend food reviews. We spent most of the weekend at the BeanTown BreakDown (a break dancing event that N.'s sister and her boyfriend throw every year), but I'll talk about that tomorrow since this post is already long enough and N. will be home soon. I will, however, leave you all with the scene N. and I woke up to the other day. 

Our kitchen.... early the other morning.

He didn't even TRY to hide.

He may be completely blind, but do NOT underestimate his sense of smell. That dog can find food anywhere. You can bet we won't forget to take the garbage out again.

Namaste bitches.

-D.

Winny de Puh?..

I'm still working on my lesson plan for my demo class/interview tomorrow. I'm still a bundle of nerves. I have no issues with getting up in front of a bunch of 5 year olds. It's the adults that terrify me. My best friend T. gave me the traditional nervousness advice of imagining them naked. That is so not going to work. I guess I'm just going to try my best to imagine they are not there. Close my eyes and POOF! I'm going to have to get up extra early tomorrow because I will definitely need a yoga session before this.

I convinced N. to take a drive with me to Barnes & Nobles last night. I got some good stuff from her mom, but I just couldn't find anything I wanted to do an activity with. I called B & N and they said they had a good amount of children's storybooks in Spanish. Their selection turned out to be minimal, but I found what I was looking for. They had all the Curious George books in Spanish. They had all of these classic books in Spanish too, like The Giving Tree and Tiki Tiki Tembo. They even had Charlotte's Web! N. had to reel me in quickly and refocus my attention to the preschool section. I did however, find a children's book (in Spanish) about Frida Kahlo with amazing illustrations. It was only 6 dollars so bought it. You know.. to read to my own non-existent children. Some of the translations of the books were pretty hilarious. Like this one:

o_O

After our book search, N. took me to get delicious smoothies at Tostado. They're a Dominican sandwich chain here in Boston. The place looks great and the sandwich menu looked promising, but we were both a bit disappointed when we tried the sandwiches a few months back. They left a little to be desired. Then again, we got takeout, so maybe that might have contributed to the "meh" reaction (soggy bread, etc). Oh, and most of them are made with Dominican cheese, and for some reason I thought that meant white Dominican cheese.. like the kind my mom used to fry up or eat with crackers. I was wrong. They use a bitter strong foot-smelling orange cheese I hated as a kid. Blech! I still have some hope though, so maybe I'll give them a try again another time. The smoothies, however, are to die for. They have really good morir soñandos too (for those of you that just said "huh?," it's a typical Dominican drink made of milk, orange juice, sometimes sweetened condensed milk..kinda like an Orange Julius). We got parcha (passion fruit) smoothies last night. They make them with evaporated milk, which makes them super creamy...yum. I kept putting mine in the freezer when we got home, and taking small sips because I didn't want it to end. Wonderful, now I'm having a major smoothie craving. N. bought me a Cuisinart food processor/blender recently so i might do a little experimenting this weekend.

N. is working from home again today. She's still not feeling 100%. I don;t want her to keep missing work, but I will admit that I've really enjoyed this week. It's nice having her around all day, even if she is working. I still get to go sneak in hugs and kisses whenever I want. But the best part is having meals together, of course. She took a break this morning.. and I took a break from my lesson writing.. so we could make breakfast together. We made guava and goat cheese stuffed French toast with home fries and maple bacon.

go ahead... be jealous.

We weren't even that sinful. Only one slice of bacon each. The French toast is made with high fiber whole wheat bread (only 40 cals per slice!) and I used egg substitute. Oh.. and I coated the French toast with Special K cereal for some extra crunch, and used sugar free syrup. OK, so the goat cheese and guava isn't exactly healthy (or the potatoes for that matter) but give me some credit. I tried.

Alright, I really need to stop procrastinating. I have some Curious George to read. Wish me luck, people!

Namaste bitches!

-D.

Hot Hot Yoga...

I know, I know. My blog deficiency is completely unacceptable. I need to set aside a specific time to blog everyday. I'm sure it will be much easier when I have an actual constant schedule. Well, my other excuse for my lack of consistency this week is that N. hasn't been to work in the past two days. It's pretty hard to pull myself away from all that extra quality time. She hasn't been feeling well (which wasn't helped by 90+ degrees temperatures outside). But, I'm not complaining.

We went to see Eclipse this weekend (yes I've joined the gang of teeny boppers in complete Twilight obsession.. so what!) and had lunch at The Longhorn Steakhouse. Food was good... the decor? Made me want to vomit. I mean, seriously, who wants to eat with a giant buffalo head staring down at you? And, who is not disturbed by looking up from a forkful of mashed potatoes to see a lamp made from the hide and antlers of a deer?! I've never wanted to be a vegetarian more. Yuck.

Of course, we couldn't leave without ordering dessert. N. insisted we get this fried cheesecake nugget strawberry ice cream decadence. They served this concoction in a giant sundae glass so tall we had to sit up on our knees to eat it. It had giant squares of battered deep friend cheesecake chunks covered in vanilla ice cream, strawberries and a mountain of whipped cream. We ate at 4:30 PM. It was noon the next day before I managed to actually eat something else.

So, needless to say, I've been pretty unproductive these past few days. We have one air conditioner (which my angel of a mother bought us this weekend) up in the bedroom, so we've been camping out up there with most of our animals, a big jug of virgin mojito and the laptop (streaming continuous episodes of Lost and the Real L Word). Today, however, I decided to get off my lazy butt and do something to take advantage of the heat. And I don't mean setting up the slip n' slide in the backyard like I did a few days ago (that was awesome by the way, that is until my dog Maya decided to take a turn and ripped it with her claws). I wanted to embrace the heat. So, I pulled out my yoga mat in the living room and did the unthinkable... turned off the fan. In 95 degree weather. I popped in my little yoga video and sat in Lotus position, feeling the sweat slide down by back. N. decided to brave the heat and come down and watch me. I just think she didn't actually believe I would get through the whole thing without passing out (which I almost did once or twice). I made it though. Let me tell you, downward dog poses and sun salutations are a lot harder when your sweaty palms and feet are sliding across the yoga mat. It felt great though. I wasn't even hot anymore. I mean, I could feel the sweat dripping and feel the heat radiating from my skin, but I felt cool inside. I know that probably doesn't make any sense, but it makes sense to me and that's all that matters.

N. is working from home today, and as soon as I'm done writing this, I have to figure out my lesson for Friday. My second interview consists of teaching a class of about 12 four and five year olds...in Spanish... while being scrutinized by the director, CEO and other teachers, How's that for nerve racking. N.'s mother used to be a bilingual kindergarten teacher, so she has a gazillion books and resources in her basement she let me go through yesterday. I don't even know where to start. Keep those fingers crossed people.

OK, so back to the Real L Word. Is anyone else watching this? It's on Showtime (which we don't have, so we watch it a few days late online) and it's from the creator of the L Word, Ilene Chaiken. Hence, why I was hesitant to even give it a chance. If any of you watched the L Word then, I'm guessing you know why. I watched all six seasons of that show for no other reason than because it was the only lesbian TV show on. This woman completely destroyed what had the potential to be a really good show. So, I hear about this show, made by this fool and to top it off, it's a reality show (because Lord knows we need more reality shows on TV). Me and N. watched the first episode and were sucked in. Just like that. Complete addiction. I'm not even sure it's all that good. I'm pretty sure I'm just watching it because of my shameless crush on the dread-locked, tattooed, player Whitney. N. is not happy about this. But, hey I'm sure she prefers this crush than my crush on Jacob the werewolf, or Lucas.. the trans-gendered lead singer of The Cliks, or the hot male bartender at the tapas restaurant we go to. Pick your battles babe... pick your battles. ;-)

Namaste bitches!

-D.

Meet Kyle..the cow. Our latest prize from our plastic bubble quarter machine addiction.

The one about the Pyro Torch

Hello, everyone. I am sorry I have been blog deficient this week. I had my big interview yesterday and spent the few days before it in a mad dash to put together a kick-ass portfolio (and it was truly kick-ass, if I do say so myself!). I think the interview went pretty well. They contacted me by the end of the day for a second interview. Cross your fingers everyone!

Our friend J. came over last night and we decided to test out some of our new fireworks. N. had gotten these long roman-candle looking things called Pyro Torches (yea sounds dangerous, right?). She wanted them because you could hold them in your hand as opposed to the regular roman candles that come with a very large warning : DO NOT HOLD IN HAND! So they didn't have a price but we figure they should cost the same as the regular roman candles (around $7.99). Wrong. They were $20. We didn't figure this out until we had already left so we just decided to shrug and forget we were super broke and should not be spending money on fireworks, of all things.

So I pull one of these bad boys out of the package, I light it and shoot my hand up as far away from my body, shielding my face with my other hand and cringe... waiting for the loud explosion and shower of sparks. I wait. Then, I wait some more. I peek out from behind my hand to look at the stupid thing, thinking maybe I didn't light it correctly. It's lit alright. Just a little flame...burning. J. took the thing from me and tried shaking it. Nothing. Apparently that's what they do. Just burn...like a sad little Olympic torch. J. held it over his head and ran around the yard. That didn't make them any more fun. Amusing? yes. Fun? not so much. $20. What a gyp! Good job babe!

We tried the ground blooms, well I tried them. N. and J. just stood there and laughed at me, because every time I would light one, I would run away screaming like a 3 year old. They spin and change colors,  then crack and jump. I was not trying to let one of those "jump" onto my leg! Then, we played with my favorite ones. Morning Glory sparklers. Yea, I know they don't do anything except, ...sparkle. But, they're pretty. And, they make me feel like I'm a little girl again.. watching my dad light fireworks by the lake in Flushing Meadow Park while I danced around the tall grass with my sparklers. N. wouldn't let me try any of the other crazy fireworks we bought, because she insisted I was either going to set our trees on fire, or possibly burn down our house. Guess, I'll have to wait until Sunday!

My mom is on the bus, on her way here. I should probably be cleaning like a mad woman, instead of sitting here typing away. My mom is a bit OCD and if there is just one little tumbleweed of my dog's white fur on the floor, I will not hear the end of it. God forbid anyone think she didn't raise me right. Then again, it's all useless anyway, since no matter how much I clean... she will come and do it over again and innocently claim she didn't know I had JUST cleaned it. I love her.

Namaste bitches!


-D.