Showing posts from March, 2013

I'm mentally running away.

A fun thing I like to do is take an idea and RUN with it!

Well, mentally run with it. Sometimes for just hours, and sometimes for days or weeks.

I suspect I keep myself out of a lot of trouble (and probably miss out on some good adventures) by mentally running away with various ideas that captivate me. How so? By mentally exhausting myself with whatever hair-brained idea has cropped up in the old gourd and, essentially, trying out a fad without ever investing any actual energy or money into it.

I do this when I want to redecorate (and eventually get exhausted at how much work DIY would be and decide I like my place pretty much as it is); when I want to try a new exercise class (and then get over the excitement of the idea by calculating how much it would cost me--that'll kill a buzz pretty quick); when I get the idea that I want to be a stay-at-home wife (and then remember how I dislike housework and how much it would cost Patrick to cover my benefits).

On today's agenda of ideas…

Ammonia fish and 8-day tates.

Dinner was going to be quick, easy, and good.

Baked cod, brushed with melted butter and seasoned generously with salt and pepper (of course), roasted broccoli with shaved parmesean, and delicious leftover mashed potatoes.

Everything cooked up perfectly. The broccoli roasted deliciously. The fish was perfectly done; not overcooked, not undercooked. And the mashed potatoes, well, they heated up nicely in the microwave. (As opposed to heating up meanly? Unkindly?)

Dinner was done with little fuss and on the table in 30 minutes. It was certainly quick and easy, but would it be good?

Yes, it seemed so! Until I took, oh, my second or third bite of the fish and noticed an unsettling pinkish gleam on the piece of fillet on my plate. No, not that cool pink center that indicates something raw or undercooked. It was an opalescent sheen. A rather pretty pinkish, gold color. Pretty thought it may have been, that's not normal in cooked fish.

Yet, I wasn't overly concerned.

Until (there's th…

Life gets heavy.

Life can't be all homemade yogurt and jokes about "Who is Putin?". It gets heavy sometimes. And lately, it's been heavy for a number of people around me. While not directly affecting my day to day goings-on, there has been a bit of sadness and upheaval on the fringes of my life. 

Saturday, I learned of the passing of my first cousin to cancer, just over two years after losing her mother, my aunt, also to cancer. She was about 20 years older than me, and lived in Ohio, so we didn't have a regular "cousins" kind of relationship. Yet, even when it's family you don't see much of, you still love them and connect with them in some way. Something about shared DNA and family history. It was sad news for me, but my heart breaks for my family that knew her better than I did.

Sunday, I learned of the passing of a woman I've known all my life, the mother of some of my oldest friends. This pair of Seminole sisters spent many a football Saturday in the swam…

Skippies. With light control.

It's taken years, but I think I've finally achieved something I honestly thought I never would. Exercise has become a habit.

I expect that you're all pretty impressed by this.

Don't get me wrong, I still don't like it. It's like, hard and stuff. It makes me sweaty and out of breath and red faced and sore. I worked my legs on Monday and on Friday, my hammies were still sore. (Deadlifts, son! With 10 lb dumbbells! ...Clearly need to work on my legs more often.)

What I do like is
a) when I find a muscle peeking out where it didn't used to appear,
b) how I feel when that stupid 30 Day Shred video ENDS, and
c) better energy, better sleep, all that jazz that you've heard before.

So, I've conquered that monumental feat, and have moved on to trying the standing desk, as I've mentioned just recently.

To recap: I work out and stand up. Hold the confetti and marching band, please.

So, what's next for your most Boring, Fun friend on the interwebs? Sucking …

Stand on up, now.

Didjya know that sitting will kill you? Surely by now you've read the articles. Along with sugar, artificial sugar, GMO corn, our cell phones, our fast food and junk food, the sun, our sunblocks, house cleaners, mildew, mold, carrying heavy purses, sitting on our wallets, eating non-organic anything, eating meat, eating dairy, eating wheat, (my goodness--what's left?!) and sniffing model glue, sitting is the hot new trend in silent killers.

Fortunately, I am on my feet all day long.

Wait. No. The opposite of that. I am on my butt all day long.

But wait! I often walk on my lunch breaks, and work out multiple times a week! Oh, but never mind. Turns out that won't help counteract the fact that I am immobile for the majority of my waking hours. (So say the articles that citing these reports, anyway.)

I like to think that I take ample breaks to stand up and move around, but the truth is that I primarily only get up to go to the bathroom. If it weren't for the fact that I drink …

The great disconnect.

In life, we all have to face up to some really tough things. Often times, those things are the disconnect between what we somehow thought would happen, and what actually happened.

A primo example, stated eloquently by my sister-in-law:

Never in a million years [...] could I have imagined that I would make my living moving rich peoples crap from one end of the world to the other. What happened to my dream of being discovered in Starbucks by a Hollywood agent? Or someone secretly recording me singing karaoke and putting in YouTube and then the producers of American Idol find it and cancel the upcoming season because I win automatically?!
I have recently had to face something along those lines. After 4-5 months of dedicated (?) blogging, I have had to face the fact that I will never make my living as a blogger.

Now, now, settle down. I know you're shocked by this, based on the blazing popularity of this thing. (That's sarcasm, in case you missed it.)

When I told Patrick as much…

Cash diet.

Ode to the grocery store Your wide, clean aisles, Your smooth, shiny tile, They seduce me. The wonky cart--how delightful it is!, announcing my arrival throughout the store. Am I your favorite customer? Grocery store, I adore you. I wander the aisles, throwing in store brand mac and cheese, brand name coffee, overpriced face wash. You make me happy.

Uh-huh. Bet you all didn't know I'm a poet, didjya?

Oh, you weren't thinking that you just read one of the greatest works of all time? 

Or even one of the greatest works that may have been created this week?

Ouch. Well, I suppose you're right. It's pretty obvious that I'm not a poet.Nevertheless, I think I was still able to convey, in my own way, that I love grocery stores. Yes, it's true, I thoroughly enjoy grocery shopping.

In college, I didn't buy a lot of clothes or go out much at all. (I was a bit of a sadpathetic Boring [but fun?] little thing. I spent my 21st birthday in class all morning then working until 11:0…

Help a poor girl out.

It took longer than I originally anticipated, though still very little time at all. I already have a case of writer's block. Blogger's block? Sun block?--no, not that one. We'll stick with blogger's block.

Though I thought I would have a unlimited supply of dazzling observations and scathing comments on... whatever... well, I was wrong.

So, the 1.5 people reading this little post, a little help, please? I'm assuming if you're still checking out what I have to say, you don't hate this fun little Boring blog o' mine. So, what kinds of posts did you like best?

I know it's kind of tough since I don't have these nice, neat categories or any kind of discernible schedule (...because I don't have a schedule), but if you would take a moment, open your heart, and ponder which of my musings brought you the most joy--or were the most effective boredom busters, whatever--and let me know, I'll be indebted to you for as long as this blog has existed.


Yes, another post about yogurt.

Alright! As promised to the one interested party (thanks, Jen!), here is how I made my own yogurt at home. I easily doubled this recipe with good results. One quart of milk yields one quart of yogurt, so the math on this is pretty easy.

1 quart whole milk (I used organic)2-3 Tbsps plain yogurt with live, active cultures (I used Fage Greek yogurt--actually found one made of whole milk at Earth Fare and used that)Other stuff:
a pan to cook in and a heat-proof spatula to stir thermometer a sink with some ice waterlarge bowl plastic wraptowelOn my first attempt, I followed the recipe in my book French Women Don't Get Fat with okay results. I used 2% milk and didn't have a thermometer to verify the temperatures, and while the result was definitely yogurt, it was too thin for my liking.

For my second attempt, I followed the cooking instructions found at the Bon Appetit website here, but stuck with my method of incubating the yogurt from my book since it was easy enough. I a…