"If you are in a relationship that is a struggle these days, it may be time for a reevaluation of its pros and cons. There are problems and benefits that you bring to one another, and you cannot make a definitive decision about whether or not to continue on your current path. For now, talking it over is wiser than taking direct action."
Thanks, Rick.
All I do is talk, though. Perhaps it's time for some direct action.
"In Your Eyes" -- Peter Gabriel
"Why Do They Leave" -- Ryan Adams
"Willing to Wait" -- Sebadoh
"Debonair" -- Afghan Whigs
"What a Fool Believes" -- Doobie Brothers
"Baby Come Back" -- Player
"Heaven" -- Bryan Adams
"Jolene" -- Dolly Parton
"The Lure Would Prove Too Much" -- Twilight Singers
"Kind Woman" -- Buffalo Springfield
"Purple Rain" -- Prince
According to the training I (outsourced and) scheduled today for my staff, to help manage depression and anxiety, engage in the following behaviors:
Wake up and go to bed at roughly the same time every day.
Eat a small amount of protein before sleeping.
Use your bed for sleep only.
Reduce caffeine intake.
Eat three meals and three snacks per day.
Eat within a half hour of waking in the morning.
Reduce alcohol and nicotine intake.
Exercise 30 minutes/day most days of the week.
Implement a plan to work on an activity (or towards a goal) about which you are passionate.
It's been quite a week, my friends. I've been all tuckered out. I've realized, however, that I don't want this chaos to end and that, compatriots, is Problemo Numero Uno.
I am now a proud solo renter of a large 1 bedroom apartment in Kensington, Brooklyn. Last night, Paul, Justin, and Mindi came over and assembled my IKEA furniture. (Thank-you-thank-you-thank-you, because if I had done it all by myself, it would have been a fast track to sobbing in the corner, shaking my fist toward the sky.) We ate pizza from a local joint, drank cheap beer, hung out on my fire escape, and played Monopoly until 2:30 AM.
Now, look, even though I ended up giving away my ten properties toward the end, I'll just go out on a limb and say that I won the whole sha-bang, if only due to the sheer entertainment value.
Oh, and yes: a very happy birthday to Justin, who turned 30 at midnight.
I blog because I am tired of packing.
Truth be told, I have spent the last hour not packing, but rather going through a previously taped-up box of photographs spanning the last fifteen years. I had moved it into my apartment, never opened it, and stored it in the back of my closet. Tonight, when I should be closing up boxes, I instead sliced it open and got lost in Georgia and Texas memories galore: Scarny, KB, SM, KM, Amber Bear, J.Ro, Ice, Coke Bref, Sean, Mindy, Crogers, Crews, Dark, Psmee, Emma, Laura, Sonia, Allison, Lydia, Alex, Kevin, Amy, Stevie, Matt C, The Billings, Carly, Robbie, Bren, Dan, Coley, Chris-in-Texas, Caro, Z, chubby me, average-sized me, skinny-sad-break-up me... all in this box that I hadn't opened in nearly two years.
And now I must force myself to sleep so that I may arrive to work prior to when Miley-Cyrus-Hannah-Montana gets on the stage in Rock Plaza and all shit hits the fan and I can't reach my building.
We've been warned there will be a heavy police presence.
Paul + Justin + Porkchop + Colleen + Bro + Vedette + Chrissy + Tim + Thim + Mom + Jim + Coronas + Sam Adams Summer Ales + pina coladas + margaritas + pretzel chips + hummus + grilled pizza + burgers + hot dogs + salads + sunshine + pool floats + noodles + backyard tent + bugs + birds + Maggie-the-Long-Dog + swimming pool...
SUBURBAN SLUMBER PARTY!
Got incredibly, disgustingly, violently ill yesterday. Probably food poisoning. Couldn't keep anything down and have probably dropped five pounds in water weight.
(Yay!)
((I'm kidding.))
Seriously, though, that shit knocked me out, son. I'm just now able to stomach something other than a handful of Cheerios and small sips of Gatorade.
(Emma, I'm sorry about my mix-up in emails; I was obviously out of it.)
Ho hum. That's all. I haven't gotten out of bed much at all today and I just wanted to share with you my unfortunate malady.
Oh, other goings-on: saw "Hancock" with Justin on Thursday and it actually surprised me: it wasn't that bad. Jason Bateman, of course, played THE JASON BATEMAN CHARACTER, but I'm a fan, so I wasn't complaining. Tomorrow brings Bastille Day on Smith Street with Scarny, to which I will drag my ass no matter how I feel. After that, The New Guy and I will attend Boobiecubes at Noreen's new place, where he will meet the crew and be sized up. Poor guy. I wish him luck.
So, perhaps Ikea isn't for masochists if you go on a weekday. This is the trick, you see. Also, be sure to go with someone with whom you enjoy spending time and who will tell you "My God, that is the ugliest rug ever -- you should NOT buy it", just so you can buy it and make him carry it around.
Remember that there is a FREE shuttle that takes you from Park Slope to Red Hook and not only that, but the seats are upholstered and you won't have to stand up.
Remember that even if something is listed as in stock, it probably won't be and you'll have to send your shopping companion around to seek out alternatives.
In other news, note to self: Asian food five days in a row is the epitome of good livin'.
"Did you just complain about him wanting to take a nap with you?"
I replied, "Yeah, I did."
"Girl, you totally do not like this boy."
I think that's how it went, anyhow.
My future life shall include a floppy hat, big sunglasses, Scarny, and Morocco. Oh, and lots of booze. And Momofuku. Maybe we will bring ramen noodles to the Moroccan masses, just like we'll bring pornography to LA someday.
Ikea is for masochists.
The bar bathroom is for masochists.
Stalking old classmates in the East Village is for masochists.
Johnson's in the daylight, however, is forever!
Mom and I went to the Javits Center today for the 54th Annual Fancy Food Show and OMGWTF! Miles and miles of fancy food was to be found!
(Mom's a florist and her store does the gift basket thing, hence how we were able to snag tickets.)
I delightfully fell off the Health Wagon for the day and sampled little bites of goat milk ice cream, black truffle butter, caffeinated jelly beans, jalapeno-stuffed olives, banana peanut butter, apple rosemary preserves, chocolate-covered potato chips, wasabi mustard, fig jam, Israeli couscous, Kona coffee, raw honey, Bellini preserves (can you tell I like my condiments?), and on and on...
The best thing I put in my mouth all day, however, hands down, had to be a piece of Collier's Powerful Welsh Cheddar. It practically made me tear up.
Oh, and I snagged some peanut butter and chocolate candy samples for the guy I went out with the night before, aaaaaaaaand with whom I'll go out again tomorrow night.
Yes. I'm apparently not playing it cool at all.
So, like, things have been busy.
Monday I hit the gym after work (that lil' Nike+iPod gizmo really motivates!) and then went home and draaaaaagged my ass out on a date... which ended up being a nice surprise. We're going out again on Saturday.
I put no stock into these things, by the way. I don't mean to sound bitter and jaded, but I'm perpetually underwhelmed and have become so during my 5-year stint in singledom. This guy seemed pretty okay, though, and he shares my love of "Lost" and my guilty pleasure of occasionally listening to the Counting Crows, so...
(Yes, I really liked "August and Everything After" so suck it.)
Tuesday was a trip to Shea Stadium with Paul, Josh, Porkchop, Colleen, and others to see the Mets get CREAMED 11-0. I think I stopped paying attention to the game around Inning 5.
Yesterday I checked out an apartment. I'm moving in by myself for the first time ever, and as you probably have heard, gentle reader(s), the New York apartment hunt is ruthless. (Four figures a month just to have a roof over my head! What is this world coming to?) This unit, however, seems pretty pretty pretty good and I'm going back tonight to be interviewed by the building owner. Fingers crossed, good thoughts, prayers, chants, etc. plz.
Just got back from lunchtime trip to the gym and my hair is still wet and I feel totally unprofessional.
Le sigh.
I was talking to KB yesterday on his birthday (happy birthday, KB!) and he mentioned that I seemed to be on-track with nutrition, exercise, etc. as of late, according to my last blog post.
Oh, but I know how to self-sabotage! Read on...
Friday was happy hour instead of the gym, and then a platter of Mexican food with Paul and lots of wine and hangout time 'til 5am. Saturday morning started with a text to Scarny that read: "brunch plz" or something along those lines. Had a waffle (?! -- I never eat a sweet brunch!) with creme fraiche, banana, and real maple syrup with the requisite Bloody or two. Needed more sweets later in the afternoon and treated self to vegan cookie from Whole Foods. Dinner was a vegan tempeh burrito from Burritoville. (My body must be craving sugar and Mexican food.) Met up with the gang at the bar at midnight and drank many a vodka soda and crashed at home around 4:30 AM. Sunday was a platter of (yes, yes) Mexican food and a bowl of fresh cherries and vegan chili with brown rice for dinner.
WTF, I ask you.
Back on the 6" Veggie Delite (no cheese) Subway Diet today, which includes a much-needed dose of a 3-mile run and hour-long strength training class after work.
I told my friend Pat that I'm "good" during the week and I undo everything on the weekends and he found this sensible.
(I apologize for turning this blog into a food diary, but it's a bit all-consuming right now. It's gonna be either that or how I'm stressed out about finding an apartment by the end of July or how much I loved the first season of "Weeds".)
Maybe I've been reading too much KERF, but I have the overwhelming desire to share with you, gentle reader(s), what I've been consuming and sweating off my body as of late.
Woke up at 6:00 AM and watched 45 minutes of Scarny's show while doing some weight training on my stability ball. All the while, consuming 16 ounces of French pressed unsweetened black coffee. Yeah, simultaneously.
Breakfast today was a cranberry-flavored (vegan! raw! cold-pressed!) Organic Fiber Bar, which is tastier than it sounds. 14 grams of fiber! In! One! Bar! I paired that with a 24-ounce cup of unsweetened black coffee.
Mid-morning snack was a banana, which had been purchased at my local gas station, before I hopped on the train at 7:45 AM. As usual, listened to yesterday's "TOTN" on the commute. (Hi, Sarah!)
Lunch was a walk from my office at Rockefeller Center to the SECRET SUBWAY ON EIGHTH AVENUE (roughly 15 minutes away by foot), where I purchased a $5 foot-long Veggie Delite on wheat bread with no cheese, all the veggies in the house, spicy mustard, vinegar, S&P, and dried oregano. (No oil. No mayo.) Ate only half, but paired it with a bag of (vegan!) Glenny's Soy Crisps in caramel flavor. A bit too sweet for the middle of the day. Should have stuck with my old S&P standby, and yes! I'm the director of a nutrition counseling program and understand glucose spikes! So, it was no surprise that later i craved...
My mid-afternoon snack, which was an impulse buy: (vegan!) S'mores Luna Bar. I had left the office briefly to run to Duane Reade with J ('Member him? I feel like he and I make a joint trip to the DR daily.) so that I could drop off my prescription for my weird photodermatitis-related rash. (Never mind that; I'll live.) He and I also bought one large unsweetened black iced coffee each. (Do you think I drink too much coffee? Don't answer that!)
!!!
Went to the gym after work, decided to skip Vinyasa Yoga and instead, ran on the treadmill for a half hour, alternating between 4.5 MPH and 6.0 MPH every two minutes. Only reached 2.5 miles total, but used my Nike+iPod which I highly recommend for it's lowlowlow price of $20ish, as well as all of its bells and whistles.. Also did some more light weight training. (Off-topic: I lovvvvvvve the lotion that is provided post-shower in the NYSC Rock Center locker room. I can still smell it on my skin, hours later.)
Had a Gala apple after work on the train ride home, and while perusing the latest issue of "Food & Wine" and decided that yes, I needed some. Food. And wine. Bought a bottle of Domaine Brusset Laurent B. Cotes du Rhone and had the other 6" of my SECRET SUBWAY (WHICH IS ON EIGHTH AVENUE AND 47TH STREET) Veggie Delite sandwich, this time with an Okara Courage Burger added to it, while watching Chris Matthews on "Hardball".
And here I am.
(Gratitute: Big ups to Kath -- you make me wanna eat kale chips and wheatberries daily! And thank you, J, for enduring my work-related venting on a daily basis. And thank you, Justin, for providing me the location of the SECRET SUBWAY ON EIGHTH AND 47TH STREET IN MIDTOWN MANHATTAN. And thank you, Pauly, for being my constant, even when I am judgmental. And thank you, Scarny, for getting me out of bed at 6:00 AM so that I can watch your show.)
(More gratitude to come.)
What a spread!
Clever stand-outs included Scarny's "Apples Peaches Pumpkin Pie" (though he succeeded in bringing the temp in my apartment to the triple digits -- hotttt!), KM's "Strawberry Fields Forever" Salad, DMcG's "Put the Lime in the Coconut" Chicken & Tofu & Rice, Heather's "Mean Mr. Mustard" Potato Salad, Colleen's (who was missed) "Margaritaville" Cookies, and (ain't no shame in my game), my "Cheeseburger in Paradise" Cookies...
Other yummy contributions included Bethany's ceviche, Paul's paella and sangria, Josh's jambalaya, Mindi's figs and prosciutto, my bro's Hot Pockets & Juicy Fruit gum (!!!), Brandon, Justin, and Noreen's wings, Porkchop's traditional (mayo-based) potato salad, my tempeh "chicken" salad, Devang's guacamole, and Pam's Greek salad.
And thennnnnnnn... we had a dance party in the dark and I shattered my roommate's glass blender jar and and Justin wiped blood off of my toe and peeled skin from my arm and popped my blisters and a crazy actress crashed the joint and I drank full cups of white wine and then hit the wall and slept in my clothes.
Good times!
