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.

Falling off the (food) wagon... again.

So, I totally lied about having fish and veggies for dinner. I even lied about the glasses of water. We had Ethiopian food. And a glass of pinot grigio.

I will point out, however, that I did not intend to lie. I had every intention of eating a healthy meal of fish and veggies. I even defrosted the fish and marinated it. Then I went to pick up N. from work and went to UPS to mail out the painting my friend Julius bought from me (he bought it about 3 months ago, and I'm finally sending it now.. I know. I'm horrible).. and it was hot as heck outside (the last thing i wanted to do was go home and cook!). Then we were driving through the South End and N. started going on and on about this Ethiopian place (Addis Red Sea) she had gotten takeout from once and how great it was and blah blah blah. Well before I knew it, we were parked in front of the place perusing a menu and poof we magically had Ethiopian food for dinner. The fish got banished back to the fridge. I should also probably mention that we made another detour on the way home.. we stopped at Flour and got Creme Brulee, chocolate banana bread pudding and lime cornbread cookies (amazing!).

I told you we have a problem.

N. really liked the Ethiopian food. I wasn't too crazy about it. We got this beef dish called Gored Gored. They serve everything on this huge folded up piece of bread/pancake(it's really like a really big crepe) but the consistency of it is too... rubbery, and absorbed too much of the oily sauce from the beef. The sauce on the beef was really good though, spicy..but good. It came with this potato and cabbage thing and also a  yellow/greenish mush that N. thought was lentils. I didn't try it since I'm slightly allergic to lentils. It also looked grainy like it might have had some chopped up nuts in it or something (I'm deathly allergic to nuts.. which makes my food obsession a bit dangerous!). The place is pretty cool and I would try the food again just to have the experience of eating there. It's on  a lower level so you have to climb down a flight of stairs and walk through a little hallway. It's dim and cavernous. The food is served on these tables that look like round trays and the people that work there are very friendly.

We've been pretty good today... Whole wheat toast with light chive cream cheese for breakfast, and curry tuna sandwiches for lunch (we won't count the Honey Moon I drank with my lunch).  I swear it's fish and veggies for dinner tonight. I'm going to make it early that way we won't be tempted to get takeout. We have to go grocery shopping and that means driving through Somerville. Temptation everywhere. We do our groceries at Market Basket. If you live in Boston and haven't done your groceries here, then get on it! Very diverse options and amazingly low prices. It can get a bit crowded though, so wear steel toed boots and be prepared to elbow people out of your way. We're on  a budget, so just basics today.

On a bright note, our garden is coming along nicely. Soon we won't have to buy veggies anymore!

 We've already harvested Romaine lettuce twice and we've used all of our herbs (except the mint, because this rascally little squirrel keeps coming along and digging it out!). I planted way too much kale so we've eaten some of that, but kale lasts all the way till winter so we have plenty of time. Everything else just started blooming this week. So excited!

This is our little jalapeño plant. Look at all the little baby peppers in there. They're tiny but they're there. Look closer!

 baby tomatoes!

I only planted in this raised garden bed that was already here when we bought the house. The previous owner gave us this song and dance about not being able to grow much because there isn't enough direct sunlight or whatever and she did her gardening at the community garden up the street. Well, I guess she just didn't have a super giant green thumb like I do! I wanted to make sure things would grow before I started tearing up our lawn and turning it into my secret garden (which I will do, you'll see). So next year, our garden will be much bigger. We might even be able to start selling at farmer's markets! 

I want to build a small chicken coop in our backyard and get a goat. N. won't let me though. She threatened to leave me if i get any farm animals. She also said I'm not allowed to get any more pets until one of our current pets kicks the bucket. Apparently two dogs and two cats is about all she can tolerate. She told me this when I tried to convince her that we should totally have ferrets. That didn't go over very well, but I gave up on that mission. The goat, however, is not so easy to give up. I have a thing for goats (no not in a bestiality kind of way you pervs... I just think they are so darn cute). I make N. frequent petting zoo's a lot more often than is normal for to 30 year old (gasp! It hurts to say it.) women. But we'll leave my goat obsession for another post.

I think I can squeeze in a quick yoga session before I have to pick up N. from work. Lord knows I need some serenity before dealing with the mobs at Market Basket.

Namaste bitches! ;-)

-D.

At least the dog is OK..

So, my first yoga session went... OK I guess. Except for the foot cramp I got while in a camel pose. I fell out of it, rolled onto my side and kicked my dog in the face. She's fine.. learned her lesson though and took her bone and laid down on the other side of the room. I'm not as rusty as I thought I was balance wise, although I'm definitely not as flexible as I used to be (when did I stop being able to touch my toes?). I FEEL better. I have to get N. to try it. She's not the transcendental type though. She's more of the "sit-on-the-couch-with-a-beer-watching-UFC fighting" type. And I'll admit that lately I've been the "sit-on-the-couch-watching-the-Food Network-then cooking-what-I-see-and-eat-it" type myself. But we've both realized that love (and our food obsession) has made us... unhealthy. N. can barely walk uphill one block without having a coronary and me..I just said I can't touch my toes. Oh, and none of my clothes seem to fit anymore (without making me look like a double cheeseburger with a side of fries). It is safe to say that we both have ..expanded.. in the past 3 and a half years. We both have admitted that this is simply unacceptable and have vowed to do something about it. We've vowed for about 3 months now (even pretended to be on a diet for a few weeks, that is until we drove by Mama's Empanadas on a trip to NY... if you haven't tried them, then get your little butts there ASAP --> little pockets filled with heaven ) but have yet to really do anything about it.

I tried to convince N. that we should become vegetarians. That didn't go over very well, considering she could totally live off of bacon if necessary. I'm typically the cook in this household so I've been trying to keep it healthy and we definitely EAT better, but we still don't move very much. I don't think I can make N. go for a jog just yet, but I'm hoping at least yoga will make us move off the couch. Baby steps.

So, after my yoga session, I was feeling all at peace and at one with mind's eye and all that crap. I went outside to light my little Buddha incense thing and take a deep breath, wiggle my toes in the grass. On the way back inside, feeling all serene, I decided to check my mailbox. It was empty. Now, when I moved to Boston, I did a change of address and checked that little option where you can order magazine subscriptions to your new address. I ordered Food Network magazine, Good Housekeeping and Better Homes and Gardens (shut up, don't even say anything yet because it gets better). I moved in the last week of February. It is now June 23rd and I have yet to receive ONE damn issue of Better Homes in Gardens. This may not seem like a big deal, but with all the stress and craziness going on in my life, I look forward to those magazines in the mail. Especially since N. has forbidden me to purchase ANY magazines at the supermarket checkout (I have a little bit of a problem). I get absolutely ecstatic when I open that mailbox and see a new shiny magazine waiting for me. For that moment, I'm unstressed. I open up the pages and I imagine all the delicious meals I'm going to conjure up from the recipes and how organized my linen closet will be... yea I have a 50's housewife trapped inside of me. So what? The point is, that I NEED my magazines. So I leave my serenity on the porch and march instead to call these incompetent magazine thieves. I trip over the dog, stub my toe and knock over a glass of water on the way. So, now I'm cursing and stomping up the stairs. I get this bubbly, way too excited to be working at a call center, Paula Deen impersonator on the line. I demand to know where my magazine is and why they're stealing my money. She doesn't change her tone. Calls me "sweetie" and "hun." She tells me that it sometimes takes 6-8 weeks to process orders and according to my file, I should be receiving my first issue in mid-July. July! For cryin' out loud. So I ask her why it takes more than 3 months to put my magazine in the mail but only takes 3 days to cash my check. She calls me "sweetie" again and apologizes. She says she'll extend my subscription by 3 months. She asks if she can do anything else for me.

No.

I slam the phone down and stomp back downstairs where I proceed to slip on the water I spilled earlier and fall right on my ass. I lie on my back and scream obscenities.


So much for that peace and serenity thing.

-D.

Namaste...

So, my mom was in town this weekend. She claimed she was already planning on visiting, but I'm pretty sure her trip was prompted by my mid-week "I don't have a job yet-I'm broke- I just turned 30 and what the hell am I doing with my life right now" hysterics. Regardless of her reasons, she showed up on Friday afternoon and greeted me at the bus station with her usual complaints of a long bus ride and a giant bag full of food she "brings home" o_O... from her catering job. From her magic bag she produced a pepperoni Stromboli, 3 giant red bell peppers, ham and about 4 different cheeses. Needless to say, one bite of that Stromboli and I forgot what the heck I was so upset about.

On Saturday, N. and I decided to take my mom to a little beach town about an hour away called Rockport. It's a quaint little town filled with cute little shops and delicious seafood.. and of course beaches. We wanted to take her to P-Town for the day, but although my mom has come a very long way in accepting her only daughter is gay, I thought an entire town filled with butches, flamey gay boys and drag queens would be a bit much. So, Rockport it was. We had lunch in a tiny restaurant that looked like it was someone's house and sat by a giant window overlooking the harbor. I had chocolate chip pancakes (because if there's breakfast on a menu, I have an inexplicable compulsion to order it no matter where I am or what time of the day it is), N. had the crab cakes Benedict and my mom had a chicken quesadilla. After lunch, we strolled the main street, walking in and out of shops. My mom and N. were conversing about something.. I think I was part of the conversation, but stopped listening because I was being pulled across the street by the sweet intoxicating smell of Nag-Champa incense burning. I've been to Rockport one time before with N., and the only store I remember besides the amazing hot dog joint and the home made ice cream shop, was this one. The Floating Lotus.

This place.. you walk in and just instantly relax. They sell Tibetan, Indian and Southeast Asian clothing, furniture art and artifacts. Now I hail from NYC where there about 4 or 5 of these types of stores in any given 20 block radius, but The Floating Lotus is... different. I don't know if it's the atmosphere of this lazy vacation town.. or the smell of the salty sea air, combined with they way they've set up the place. But, both times I've walked in the door, I've exhaled in complete relaxation and serenity. There's even this cute little dog that follows you around the store (but not in a naggy "pet me" way.. even the damn dog is serene). They have all these cool instruments you can play with, like rain sticks and singing bowls. There are amazing sculptures and wood carvings... colorful paintings of Buddha that an artist did on roof shingles that blew off a temple. Intricate floor pillows scatter the store and they invite you.. no INSIST.. that you lie down on them for a while and just ..BE.

I want to live in this store.

After about 20 minutes, N. and my mom finally managed to drag me out with my head scarf and handfuls of incense, but not before my Gemini brain latched on and got "inspired". I do this very often in my life. I get these "obsessions" where I eat, breathe and sleep whatever it is I happened to be obsessed with at the moment. So here I am, redecorating our house (in my mind of course... no job remember), digging my yoga mat out of the basement and vowing to start meditating and somehow transport that serene magical feeling of that store into my everyday life. I figure that this may be one of my healthier obsessions (unlike last month's bacon/ice cream obsession), I mean what harm can it do? I don't think our neighbors mind the little Buddha that is now sitting on our porch filling the entire block with the sticky scent of patchouli. I'm sure that N. won't mind if I take it down a notch from my usual wired, overly-dramatic antics. I'm sure that only good can come from regaining some focus in my life. It has to be better than this "falling down the rabbit hole" feeling. At this point I'm willing to try anything to keep me from going into a full blown panic over having $27 in my bank account at the moment. So.. here's to lotus flowers and downward dog poses, to nag-champa and deep breathing exercises... to meditation (aka denial of my current circumstances) and smiling serenely when all I really want to do is scream. Namaste.



-D.