Carbon Offset

The Kissing Disease

It's official, I have mono. I'm beat from the week, which really all I've done is go to work. My sore throat is doing "better" today in comparison to last night when I was crying from it hurting. I got a steroid prescription that is supposed to help with my swollen lymph nodes. I made the call that I felt awkward making, about having mono, he took it well, didn't seem to be too worried.

Work seems to be willing to be flexible. Everyone knows that you get extremely tired with mono, so for the next few weeks I can control my own schedule. Something else is brewing too, not quite sure what is going on....

For now, its me, my chair, the tv and lots of rest. Maybe a few slurpees and popsicles in between. I have to eat with the meds, but I have no appetite and it hurts to eat.

Swollen

Last Wednesday I woke up with a sore throat, I nourished it with a milkshake. The sore throat remains now with swollen lymph nodes. The doctor's office just called, strep came back negative. The fabulous Ferragamo wearing doctor suggested mono or another viral infection, but yes they are certainly swollen. Maybe my sluggish tiredness is explained by mono, aka the kissing disease. Part of me worries theres something else going on. Really I just want to be better. No more sore throat. The slurpee otherwise known as my lunch today was sublime. Others are the office are "sick" this week too. Now I'm home, realizing how tired I've been and I want to relax with my dvd of Weeds, order some spicy thai soup take out. I've been searching Yelp for places that deliver, I do live in the city, why not. Chores still remain including the pilling laundry that I've been avoiding like the plague.

Tuesdays

My Tuesdays have changed. I have new ritual. At 11:30am on the dot I quickly leave my desk to escape to another world. My co-workers tease me, its trailer day. I eat from a trailer. But this trailer is different than the taco buses around the city. It's a community of food lovers. Each week I wait in anticipation for my e-mailed menu for the upcoming week. I know Tuesday will bring respite from the fast food entrenched area that I work. Skillet reminds me what food is all about. It isn't always the fancy white linens, the sleek interior and the avant garde menu. Rather the hand written menu on the side of the Airstream trailer is how I want to eat. Many of us are regulars as we wait for our culinary delight, some each week still to the tried and true burger, but many of us go out on a limb try the special of the week. This week it was tomato basil soup with fresh mozarella and a side salad. The soup rocked my world. Perfectly creamy, crispy fresh strips of basil and crunchy olive oil entrenched croutons. The salad (part of the combo) featured goat cheese and fresh greens with a few pieces of fresh asparagus. I treated myself to the rich and moist carrot carrot cake with a dollop of fresh cream cheese frosting. Cream cheese frosting at most places is characterized as overly sweet and super rich, but this had the density but a bit of the sour flavor of cream cheese. Today as I savoured my meal, I remembered I have a food blog to start. There are many signs right now pointing in this direction. Something greater out there is telling me to start something, change is coming, I can feel it. Dinner club. Food blogging. A possible career is looming over me. My passions are going to turn in to the career. My love of the written word through my simplest pleasure, good food.

Perfect 10

This was a mastercard moment weekend, priceless. I'm satiated. So many incredible things happened that all in all made this one of those weekends. Friday I have to admit was the catalyst, the hope of warm weather, I woke up happy ready for my day, I put on my khaki skirt and a tank top that according to my co-workers would of gotten me kicked out of school, regardless of my goose bumps and bare skin, I was ready for the glimpse of summer. The peak of the day was actually at 5ish, when I headed to Belltown to meet Susanna for happy hour at Cascadia for the infamous mini burgers and alpine martinini. The sun was shinning and I didn't so much mind waiting an hour out in the sun, it was exactly what i've been craving the past few weeks, the Vitaman D soaking into my skin, instant ani depressant. Later on that evening brought Molly Moon's balsamic strawberry, the quinessential summer treat.

Saturday marked the arrival of summer officially in Seattle. I put on my white short skirt, tank top, which smelled like beach from Florida in March, grabbed my sunglasses and was ready for my favorite annual cheese festival. My day started with a trip to Fiore for a latte, I was surprised to see my old barista from the QA Fiore. I put down my window (still gotta get that fixed!) turned up the radio and drove into my all too familiar QA. The trees had a greeness to them that illuminated summer, the over priced strollers were out, part of me missed my old hood for a moment. Met the girls for a fabulous morning/afternoon of cheese tasting. Drank some lovely white wines, got a bit buzzed, shopped, reminded myself why I hate my boobs sometimes and then headed back to Noelle's to meet up with others for beer brewing. Beer brewing was fantastic, I even tasted hops which kinda looked like rabbit food! I may have been a bit buzzed to completely understand the whole process, however knowing the hard work that goes into my favorite refreshment makes it that much better. Plus we were able to escape a bit of the afternoon heat. Then drank some sangria at Madame K's out on the deck with more drink afterwards at Kings. One of those nights that we lost track of time, all of the sudden the evening came to an end. A secret was officially let out of the bag, that provided a bit of solace in my world. Sunday I put my feet in the warm sand at Alki, took in the fresh air and the final moments of sun. Ending the weekend with a supurb dinner at Crush as a part of Urban Eats with truly delightful company. Drank more wine, talked a bit about food, took fantastic pictures with Susanna's amazing camera and most of all remembered what life was all about. An individual recently asked me to rate somethingon a scale of 1-10, this weekend, I give it a 10.

Family Dynamics

I put myself out there today. I knew my mom wanted to see the Louvre exhibit at the SAM, today was the last day and mothers day, so I invited her and my grandmother up to Seattle. My morning was off to an already slow start, with barely enough time to brush my teeth and grab some oh so required coffee. Spending time with my mom today saddened me a bit. It's not so much her nor her lack of life, rather it was the way she treats my grandmother. My grandmother is out of it, she seems to lack noticing whats going on, her world isn't reality. My mom talks to my grandmother like she's a pre-schooler, no you can't eat that, telling her where to go and what to do at every moment. She follows her around like a puppy dog. While at the exhibit, she was explaining what the artifacts were as if she was 5, "Mother, thats a bowl and a cup from the Roman empire." Really? Can she not read herself or tell that it 's a cup? I feel like her interactions diminishes my grandmothers actual capabilities. Did she treat me like this when I was a child? Was that why I was so independent yet dependent? I spent most of the time wandering the museum alone, reading about life in the Roman era, but also watching the vast number of families, especially mothers and daughters. Part of me really wishes things were different. Actually most of me. I feel guilty for admitting that, but it's the truth.

After the attempted lunch to have a real talk, I've given up a bit of hope for her and change. I've tried to reach out a couple of times, but my desire to have family around me diminishes. I was e-mailing a vendor asking her what she was doing for mothers day, she said that this time is bittersweet as her parents are dead (she does have a daughter). Joy reminded me to be thankful that they are around. Honestly, I lost my mother 4 or so years ago, the person I would call to talk to, even when things were bad. The sense of comfort, that your parent can make everything ok, is no longer there. Part of me wonders what is actually going in my mothers head. How does she perceive the world? Is it a false reality? The roof that was almost destroyed in the storm over a year ago, the pee soaked carpet, lights that don't work, dust from several years of accumulation, baggy old clothes, a garden with plants slowly dying and piles and piles of unopened bills, letters and financial statements. Do these exist in her reality? I don't think these things would bother me so much if it wasn't for the one thing I most desperately want. A hug, an i love you. Neither have happened in years. The last time I got a real hug I don't remember. When I am a parent, I will tell my children I love them every day. I remember the mom who would take care of me when i was sick, when I was an adolescent comfort me in my angst, remind me everything was ok when I had my breakdowns. Now she's unaware of my world. Part of me wants to scream to her, mother this happened last night and yes, there are big things going on and I want to tell you about them. But such topics are taboo in our relationship. Conversation consists of idle chit chat. I try to share small parts of my life, but they are brushed off, no response. Everything revolves around one thing, the dog, Henri. She pointed out the parking lot that we took him to when he was a puppy after the cheese festival to go to the bathroom... really? I'm glad you remember that, but when it comes time to come to my friend's wedding that I am the Maid of Honor in, you can't seem to make the 4 blocks. I realized that I get more comfort from the friends in my life. Even when I said, how I called Jamie because I really wanted to talk to someone about something, she didn't ask what that was, nothing. My friends are truly my family. I've made them my family. The other 50% of my family lives farther away, and oddly enough was the one I didn't have as strong of a relationship with as a child, now he's the rock. I cherish my Florida trips, the fact that my Dad says don't worry about filling up the car with gas or says to me every time I call, I love you. That means something. He's the parent I can count on, the one I know will be there for me in a second.

I don't mean for this to be a negative post, but rather some feelings I had to get out there. Is my relationship with my mother a test? I'm scared for the future, I worry about her, yet very few others share my concern. For now, I tell myself to focus on the positive. I had a mother to spend Mothers Day with, I know deep down in her heart she still cares.

Modern Love: The College Essay Contest - New York Times

Modern Love: The College Essay Contest - New York Times

Dating in your 20's, this article resides all too well in my recent dating adventures. What is the difference between seeing someone, hooking up and dating? Terms I've found myself using to describe my dating enocounters, the need to define the interaction. Our generation seems to lack the commitment gene, both men and women. Its a new game out there. The more liberal and educated we are, the less likely we are to be in a serious relationship. We are supposed to be young and having fun. It's almost an elitist attitude, we look down on our cohorts who have "settled down" had families at a younger age, they haven't "lived life." We are supposed to travel, have the hot fling with the foreign man or woman. Maybe even experiment with our sexuality. I define myself as a heterosexual female, yet often I've said to friends, I'm not against trying anything once, doesn't mean I want to swing that way. Are we too open and free for own good? We are defining our own rules. How many dates before you kiss, have sex or define yourself as a couple? Oddly enough once my father said to me, god the rules have really changed, being a single guy must be great now.

I remember several years ago when I was still in college, I had lunch with my former 5th grade teacher, she and I had become friends. Somehow another NY Times article about my generation came up in conversation, she said to me I hope you aren't hooking up with men. At the time I was too embaressed to admit that I had in fact "hooked up" on several occasions, I smilled politely and said of course not! My secret sexual behavior went into the vault along with my secret smoking habit. I used the excuse, its college, it doesn't matter, I'm supposed to be young and have fun. Yet, like the young college woman in the article, I think I too want commimtment. My brain monograms the towels all too quickly sometimes. Do I admit this to my peers? Not always. Those who are in relationships look fondly at my singleness, they admit how they'd love to be in a relationship. But do they really? They know who they'll go with to the work dinner, they don't have to coerce a friend to go or bring their gay husband that they co-workers know but they've never met the men I actually date. They have someone to tell about their day when they come home. Someone to massage their feet when they hurt. Or just knowing that person is there sometimes helps. The simple acts.

I know my generation will find the balence. But for now, its a turbulent ride. Most of us have experienced it. And we'll continue to make our own rules because lets face it, we're rebels when it comes to protocall. Oh and I know, that through my dating efforts or whatever I have defined my interactions as, when the time comes to monogram the towels, I'll know its right (fingers crossed).

What Motivates the Wine Shopper? — Eric Asimov - New York Times

What Motivates the Wine Shopper? — Eric Asimov - New York Times

Can You Become a Creature of New Habits? - New York Times

WOW!!! Awesome article, read this.

Can You Become a Creature of New Habits? - New York Times

"Whenever we initiate change, even a positive one, we activate fear in our emotional brain,” Ms. Ryan notes in her book. “If the fear is big enough, the fight-or-flight response will go off and we’ll run from what we’re trying to do. The small steps in kaizen don’t set off fight or flight, but rather keep us in the thinking brain, where we have access to our creativity and playfulness.”

A Date With Myself

Today was one of those days, it had its lows and its highs. Something about it started off different, almost a reset ignited by me losing my power in the middle of the night, waking up to the flashing light on the stove when I fed the cats. Work was busy, yet my mind was scattered, having a hard time accomplishing the multiple tasks being demanded of me. Rather I found myself several times looking aimlessly at my computer. The day perked up with an incredible lunch from Skillet, M getting his scholarship that I helped him with and a unexpected text. However, there were some lows, M's childhood dog dying and the gloomy day that seemed to take a toll on everyone. I left work exhausted not really feeling all that great. After doing some essential errands, I found myself wandering the aisle of Safeway wondering what I wanted for dinner. I didn't want to exert the effort to get takeout and somehow nothing yelled "pick me pick me" rather the myriad of choices complicated my simple decision. Slowly my basket started to fill with some comfort foods- Cherry Coke zero, mint Brussels and then it dawned on me, quesadillas, I have whole wheat flour tortillas and beans, all I need is some cheese. At the check out I grabbed my token I need something a bit fluffy Glamour magazine. Still departing Safeway, I felt like something wasn't right. Was it an impending panic attack?

I got home, changed the cat litter and then started to take care of some sub sequential chores- take out the garbage, the huge pile of recycling, wash dishes and tidy up a bit. Dish by dish, I started to feel a bit better, less melancholy and lethargic. Then I pulled out my panini press, yes, thats perfect for the quesadillas. Easy dinner, not a lot of clean up and a total childhood comfort food. Yes, this is what I needed. A date with myself and my apartment. I'm feeling more energized, a bit less sad, although the fall of the high of the past few weeks has certainly not passed. But a reminder to take time for myself. I think I'll bring out Pradabelle who is probably covered with dust by now, she's been regretfully ignored the past month. Sometimes the best dates are when you least expect it, tonight was one of them.

Nothing?

Sadly, I have nothing. My weekend was full of various events- HopScotch Friday, saw Made of Honor Saturday, ate yummy vietnamese, watched the rest of Season 1 of Weeds, went to church, walked around Greenlake and had a fabulous Sunday night with happy hour at the Sitting Room and the Diary of Anne Frank at the Intiman.

Oddly enough each week my calendar fills up, even though the week before I thought oh its looking a bit blank and then poof all of the sudden my weekends and even week nights are filled!

I promise to write more later, but for now off to Kickball and some Cinco de Mayo celebrating!