I had one of the best meals in recent memory the other night. In fact I can’t remember the last meal I enjoyed more. This put me into an out of body experience where it was just me and the flavor of the meal dancing in the ether. Everything around me faded away as I focused on my senses of smell and taste.
Earlier in the day when I asked the hosts what I should bring, “Something simple,” they replied.
I brought a bag of lettuce.
And a tasteless hot house tomato.
Did I mention how great this meal was?
We had beef sirloin that was pan seared in butter, lightly seasoned and put into the oven just long enough to provide a nice medium-rare doneness. Delicious! That was paired with big-ass prawns that were grilled to perfection. The flavors of the two were indescribable. Wonderfully paired, melt in your mouth, gastro-perfect delight.
Sitting on the table in a bowl, all by itself, having seen fresher days, was my lazy-assed salad wilting by the minute. Of course everyone took some…out of politeness. But it was clear that this so-called side dish was far outclassed by the main event. It was like bringing Cheez Whiz to Martha Stewart’s house. Like hanging a black light poster in a Donald Trump condo. Like wearing Birkenstocks to a Sex and The City movie.
You get the drift.
Next time I’m invited to dinner I think I’ll just bring the salt.
Dec 23, 2008
Dec 21, 2008
The Upside of Down Dog
Just got done doing a yoga video that a friend recommended. It was a great workout...challenging to the point that I got all jelly-legged and shaky. It worked on strength and flexiblity and made me centered and peaceful. Great, huh? But I wonder if this DVD is really geared toward yoga enthusiasts or pervs.
Why?
Because the production quality made it look like a soft core porn video.
The 'class' was made up of both women and men all dressed in white. The women wore traditional yoga gear while the men were all bare chested and wearing underwear (or it sure looked like underwear). One guy had boxers, another had those briefs that came down to mid-thigh. The lead instructor has this long curly hair and a calm speaking voice.
My problem was (1) should I just sit back and watch this thing or (2) actually follow along? Since I had a hankering for yoga I chose to follow his voice and not gawk at the TV screen very much. What a killjoy I am! In one section the instructor had his arm wrapped around the waist of one of the female students while he encouraged us all to deepen our stretch.
Uh, right.
After my workout I shared my impressions with Hubby. He admitted to watching morning workout shows with chicks in bikinis. So I guess there is the perfect workout video for us all. And we don't even need to exercise (in the traditional sense).
Why?
Because the production quality made it look like a soft core porn video.
The 'class' was made up of both women and men all dressed in white. The women wore traditional yoga gear while the men were all bare chested and wearing underwear (or it sure looked like underwear). One guy had boxers, another had those briefs that came down to mid-thigh. The lead instructor has this long curly hair and a calm speaking voice.
My problem was (1) should I just sit back and watch this thing or (2) actually follow along? Since I had a hankering for yoga I chose to follow his voice and not gawk at the TV screen very much. What a killjoy I am! In one section the instructor had his arm wrapped around the waist of one of the female students while he encouraged us all to deepen our stretch.
Uh, right.
After my workout I shared my impressions with Hubby. He admitted to watching morning workout shows with chicks in bikinis. So I guess there is the perfect workout video for us all. And we don't even need to exercise (in the traditional sense).
Dec 20, 2008
People Who Need People
Every Friday I engage in my guilty pleasure. It isn’t sordid or something I hide from others. (At least not consciously.) I peer into the mailbox and there it is! This week’s People magazine. I can enjoy the next 60 minutes or so in my form of escapism. Forget reality TV or video games. My way to unwind after a long week is to gawk at celebrity pictures and read snippets about their lives.
The way-too-smart-for-her-own-good part of my brain says I should feed my mind. Maybe I should aspire for higher-minded fare. Aww screw it! I spend Monday through Friday working for ‘the man’. Friday nights are for my People.
And what people they are. Frolicking on beaches and far-flung foreign lands. Playing with their kids in NYC and LA. It’s not that their lives are more fascinating than mine. (Hello, Delusional, table for one) My attraction to People is pure and simple – I like the pictures and brevity of the articles. It’s a children’s picture book for adults. It’s pretty and shiny and easy to read. No jargon; nothing to memorize and learn; don’t need to create a PowerPoint and report its contents to management.
Granted there isn’t much new I learn in People. What I like is the celebrity news I may have already picked up online during the week. But there’s something about the presentation and layout that make it candy for my eyes. Plus People isn’t mean-spirited like some other celebrity mags. If I’m in a grouchy mood I can pick one of those up at the grocery store with my pint of Ben & Jerrys and bottle of Pinot Grigio.
A friend of mine said she switched to another mag because the feel-good articles about regular people irritated her. I guess when you’ve had a bad week warm and fuzzy can be annoying.
The guilty pleasure magazine of college and my 20s was Cosmopolitan. I recently glanced at the cover and realized how much of a prude I’ve become. I guess that goes to show that guilty pleasures change over time.
So it’s off into People-land where everyone is attractive, rich and happy. That will be followed by my Wii bowling tournament. I broke 100 the other day!
The way-too-smart-for-her-own-good part of my brain says I should feed my mind. Maybe I should aspire for higher-minded fare. Aww screw it! I spend Monday through Friday working for ‘the man’. Friday nights are for my People.
And what people they are. Frolicking on beaches and far-flung foreign lands. Playing with their kids in NYC and LA. It’s not that their lives are more fascinating than mine. (Hello, Delusional, table for one) My attraction to People is pure and simple – I like the pictures and brevity of the articles. It’s a children’s picture book for adults. It’s pretty and shiny and easy to read. No jargon; nothing to memorize and learn; don’t need to create a PowerPoint and report its contents to management.
Granted there isn’t much new I learn in People. What I like is the celebrity news I may have already picked up online during the week. But there’s something about the presentation and layout that make it candy for my eyes. Plus People isn’t mean-spirited like some other celebrity mags. If I’m in a grouchy mood I can pick one of those up at the grocery store with my pint of Ben & Jerrys and bottle of Pinot Grigio.
A friend of mine said she switched to another mag because the feel-good articles about regular people irritated her. I guess when you’ve had a bad week warm and fuzzy can be annoying.
The guilty pleasure magazine of college and my 20s was Cosmopolitan. I recently glanced at the cover and realized how much of a prude I’ve become. I guess that goes to show that guilty pleasures change over time.
So it’s off into People-land where everyone is attractive, rich and happy. That will be followed by my Wii bowling tournament. I broke 100 the other day!
Dec 4, 2008
End of Days
Check this link out. I swear if Nordstroms goes under I will lose my will to live!
Maybe we can start an over-under game on which retailers will actually die off. (One's I'd like to see gone include Toys R Us, Dressbarn and that junky party store.)
Maybe we can start an over-under game on which retailers will actually die off. (One's I'd like to see gone include Toys R Us, Dressbarn and that junky party store.)
Dec 2, 2008
My Advice Vice
See if you can determine the problem….
My friend TJ screwed up her knee and will need surgery. She’s been hobbling around with a knee brace which is no fun. I don’t envy her at all. It's hard to walk. She can’t work out. Plus she needs to carefully determine what she is going to wear each day. (Skinny jeans and knee braces are a fashion DON’T.) This has been going on for weeks while she awaits the opportunity to have surgery.
TJ has been putting on a brave face and taking this all in stride. But she recently cracked and complained about her situation. Good, I thought, she’s going to vent and get all the frustration out of her system.
“I’ve probably gained five pounds since this happened,” she wailed.
“Oh, honey. It’s ok,” I replied in my supportive voice. “If it gets really bad you can always take up bulimia.”
Stop the tape. Rewind.
Did I really suggest that barfing after meals would solve her problems related to her suck-y knee injury? Yes I did. Why?
Because I don’t have a filter in my brain to get rid of the stupid, garbage advice-thoughts I have. I just blurt them out. (And then feel pretty damn good about my unique problem solving skills.)
This has been a long term issue for me. And I have yet to learn my lesson. Fortunately I have good friends who take my advice with a grain of salt.
Some other gems uttered from my pie hole:
To the friend whose teenage son was acting out: “Send him to military school.”
To the friend who was dealing with major anxiety about her kids and marriage: “Get your doc to give you some drugs like Percoset or Vicodin -- something good that people get addicted to. Oooh, valium would work too!”
To the college friend who hadn’t been with a man (in the biblical sense) for a long time: “You know, becoming a nun could be a good thing. It’s quiet and you don’t pay any rent.”
Yep, I’d call my nationally syndicated advice column: Bad Advice to Good Friends. Just give me a problem and I can pair you up with a vice or ridiculous recommendation. You have a solution… and I have entertainment for months to come.
Fortunately, TJ isn't listening to me. No one should.
My friend TJ screwed up her knee and will need surgery. She’s been hobbling around with a knee brace which is no fun. I don’t envy her at all. It's hard to walk. She can’t work out. Plus she needs to carefully determine what she is going to wear each day. (Skinny jeans and knee braces are a fashion DON’T.) This has been going on for weeks while she awaits the opportunity to have surgery.
TJ has been putting on a brave face and taking this all in stride. But she recently cracked and complained about her situation. Good, I thought, she’s going to vent and get all the frustration out of her system.
“I’ve probably gained five pounds since this happened,” she wailed.
“Oh, honey. It’s ok,” I replied in my supportive voice. “If it gets really bad you can always take up bulimia.”
Stop the tape. Rewind.
Did I really suggest that barfing after meals would solve her problems related to her suck-y knee injury? Yes I did. Why?
Because I don’t have a filter in my brain to get rid of the stupid, garbage advice-thoughts I have. I just blurt them out. (And then feel pretty damn good about my unique problem solving skills.)
This has been a long term issue for me. And I have yet to learn my lesson. Fortunately I have good friends who take my advice with a grain of salt.
Some other gems uttered from my pie hole:
To the friend whose teenage son was acting out: “Send him to military school.”
To the friend who was dealing with major anxiety about her kids and marriage: “Get your doc to give you some drugs like Percoset or Vicodin -- something good that people get addicted to. Oooh, valium would work too!”
To the college friend who hadn’t been with a man (in the biblical sense) for a long time: “You know, becoming a nun could be a good thing. It’s quiet and you don’t pay any rent.”
Yep, I’d call my nationally syndicated advice column: Bad Advice to Good Friends. Just give me a problem and I can pair you up with a vice or ridiculous recommendation. You have a solution… and I have entertainment for months to come.
Fortunately, TJ isn't listening to me. No one should.
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