Tuesday, September 28

Make These

And then eat all of them.

Roasted Pepper Roll Ups

4oz Cream Cheese (Reduced Fat Version)
4oz Soft Goat Cheese (Yum)
1tbls Fat Free Milk
1 Clove of Minced Garlic
1/4tsp Black Pepper
1/2C Roasted Red Peppers
1/4C Fresh Basil
2C Spinach
8 Whole Wheat Tortillas (Preference: Tortilla Factory ... only 80 calories per tortilla!)

Starting with the cream cheese, beat everything in with an electric mixer until smooth. Then stir in the red peppers and basil, both chopped finely. Schmear that yummy stuff on the tortillas. Throw down a layer of spinach. Roll 'em up, eat 'em, love 'em.

Tuesday, September 21

The Good Fight

Ah, materialism.
I've been fighting you.
Fighting hard.
I'm purging and donating.
Books have been borrowed from the library,
rather than bought.
The closet has stayed the same size,
more or less.
But I hate my purse.
It mocks me with its cute shape
because inside is no where near enough room for
water bottle,
a snack.
I must ditch it for a new one.

So I've lost a small battle, but not the war.
And this beauty is on its way,
handmade just for me.

Thursday, September 16

A Definition

Last night I finished Her Fearful Symmetry. There was something about this book I couldn't quite put my finger on. Something made it spectacular and difficult to put down, despite being sort of boring. I've decided it must have been an unknown quality to the writing, something addicting. Near the end of the book I found the following quote and it struck me. It was so truthful, so honest.

"'Being in love is ... anxious,' he said. 'Wanting to please, worrying that she will see me as I really am. But wanting to be known. That is ... you're naked, moaning in the dark, no dignity at all ... I wanted her to see me and to love me even though she knew everything I am, and I knew her.'"

Following You

I've been checking out all of your blogs, fellow thinkers.
One by one, a bit everyday.
And I started thinking --
Wouldn't life be terrible without the internet?
I wouldn't get to see into any of your lives.
Anonymity provides personal knowledge.
It's quick and easy.
Whether that's good or bad, it's the truth.
Personally, I love it.
It's plums in the pudding,
Cheese on our potatoes,
the spice of life.

Tuesday, September 14

The Dentist

I am one of those few and fortunate people who love going to the dentist. I don't love cavities, and I'm not saying that the experience is 100% positive. But. Wow do I love having a clean pristine mouth. I love to have beautiful gums and a fantastic white smile. I love to open my mouth wide and have no fillings (that show, anyway). Me and the hubs like to have our appointments together so we can laugh and commiserate if one of us has a cavity. Of course, he's never had one, so it's usually him commiserating with me and looking smug about his strong and healthy enamel. However, this time we both rejoiced in the fact that despite not having been to the office for TWO -- count 'em two -- years, neither of us had any problems. Cheers.

My feelings and thoughts on this subject were sounding familiar to me ... and then I remembered this post from the past. I'll just say, my enthusiasm for dental hygiene remains undiminished.

Thursday, September 9


I occasionally go through periods where I don't feel like writing. Usually these times come when I'm feeling quiet; when I have little to say. And when I have little to say it's because I'm reading a lot. I get so caught up in the beauty of an author's words, the way a sentence is pieced together so perfectly, how the meaning is conveyed to me as clear and concise, that my own words start to feel paltry and insignificant. I'll open up a piece I'm working on, fully intending to write, only to find that all of my words are silent. They splash themselves across the monitor and look limp and lifeless. Any storytelling becomes lost in a mumble and I start hitting the delete key. I hate these periods when my brain feels mute; I wonder, am I stressed? Sick? Tired? How can a writer have no words. How can a writer stop thinking or feeling or expressing. I can only hope that these quiet times are R&R for my inner creativity -- wherever that comes from, inside I suppose. And it does seem that after these lapses in quality production, comes clarity. I'll begin to pull from my word tree with ease, as though all the fruit were near the bottom and perfectly ripened. I've heard it said that good writers write every day. I'm still working towards that goal -- but I'm not sure if I should fight the quiet times too hard. Perhaps it's some essential part of my thought process. My brain has to digest all those thoughts and feelings to make them communicable. Here's hoping I don't just suck and am actually boring and dull and the moments of excited writing are the exception rather than the norm. But how could that be? I'm nearing my 300th post. I'm writing better and more than I have before. I'm reading more than I ever have. I listen more. Yes, that's it; the quiet times are when I'm listening.

Wednesday, September 8


August is a big month for us; it's our anniversary and Tom's birthday. So we had to have a fun celebration with the two of us. Vegas is like our mini-vaca spot. It's becoming a tradition and we really know how to party there. We have specific things we do every time.
[First]: you must walk the strip. Vegas = walking. That's what makes it fun. No cabs, no bus, no monorail. You walk and walk and walk until you're tired and you want to sit and drink and gamble. Then you walk around slightly inebriated and laugh at the funny people ... or yourself. Whichever.

[Second]: you must play the penny slots. You find an entertaining machine, turn the volume all the way up, put in your happy dollar, and then proceed to play one line at a time, one credit per line. It's awesome. $1 buys you 100 spinnings of the reel. And if you go slow, you can get like 3 drinks in a dollar's time. How fantastic is that? Plus, you win fairly often; it's not a lot of money, obviously, but winning means the fun will last longer. I'm telling you, Vegas is only fun when you don't lose too much, and when the odds are stacked against you (because they always are in a casino) why not maximize the fun on the least amount of money?

[Third]: you must have loud sex to disturb your hotel neighbors. We hear it -- we hear the people in the middle of the night and when you walk down the hallway. You may as well contribute.

[Fourth]: you must nap. Napping provides essential energy for the aforementioned necessary activities. Besides, you're on vacation. You're on vacation in Vegas; the ultimate indulgence town. Take a nap and then you can walk all night, play the penny slots until all hours of the morning, and end the evening with some loud sex.

[Fifth]: go see a show. I know the tickets can seem a little pricey, but they're worth it. Tom dragged me to see Carrot Top (I so did not want to go) but it was the funniest show ever. We both laughed so hard the first half hour we were worried for our well being. We've also seen nearly every Cirque du Soleil show. Fantastic.

[Sixth]: eat at a buffet. You never get your money's worth and the food is usually middling to fair. You feel super fat after all the desserts. But you need energy! You're here to party and let go -- that requires food. Plus, food will help with the hangovers. Nothing cures a hangover like three plates of eggs benedict and hasbrowns.

[Seventh]: you must buy a frozen drink from Fat Tuesdays in the Miracle Mile Shops. I don't know why. The heavens demand it. My personal favorite is mango and strawberry. They're alcoholic. They're portable. They're frozen. Perfect for Vegas.

As you can see, we're old pros.
We love it and you should love it too.
So start planning your trip and get out there. I might run in to you ...

Tuesday, September 7

Hold Please

Been away on vacation ...
New posts are on their way.
But you know me, I'm a procrastinator;
So they're half finished and un-polished.
Hold, please.
They'll be here soon.

Hope you'll wait for me, loves.