1) There is a problem when you are responsible for only cooking for yourself. At least I have a problem. I make the same thing ALL THE TIME. Literally, every week, I "grill" an entire package of chicken. Made a batch of rice. And continue to eat that for the rest of the week. It's getting boring, and it's showing. I've been much more willing to cheat on my "diet" and I'm sure this is one huge reason why.
2) Please send any healthy recipe's you might have, or think I might enjoy. That are easily made for 1, or are good as leftover.
3) Moving stinks. Boxes are everywhere, and my body is covered head to toe in bruises that I got from packing.
4) Ok, some of the bruises are from hitting one of the desk supports underneath my desk. Which I might have done 3 times. Within 2 hours.
5) My dear old friend insomnia seems to be back. Last week I thought it was just because I was sick. But I woke up at 2am today, and could not get back to sleep. Ugh.
6) I'm really excited about moving!
7) I'm even more excited by all of the wonderful comments, and excitement I'm getting from my friends. Especially the ones I'll be living near again.
8) Yes, living a mere 95 miles from my BFF, who I haven't lived that close to in, oh, 12+ years is at the top of my excitement list.
9) That, and having an actual bedroom.
10) I'm already planning my Cardinal's baseball viewing schedule. There is 3 and a half years that need to be made up for.
11) Ok, so it's technically only been a year since I've seen the Cards play, but they were in DC. Not Busch Stadium. It's just not the same.
12) Nerd alert: I'm reading Undaunted Courage by Stephen Ambrose, which talks about Merriwether Lewis and my Revolutionary War crush Thomas Jefferson...and this morning I read a chapter about how long it took just to communicate with people across the country, and how long it took to travel from place to place. For example, from DC (Washington City) to St. Louis (the Mississippi River) took months back in the day. It's now a 2 hour plane ride. And a letter would take 6 weeks to cross that distance, and now, I can email, phone, instant message, text message, or whatever else instantly. And though I wouldn't trade any of my modern conveniences (ok, some I would willingly give up) I think it would be cool to live in that era...if only temporarily.
13) I want a new, more comfortable couch. But will be stuck with my current one for a while. It's a good thing I have learned some patience over the years. :)
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
Moving
First of all, for those of you that are just now hearing for the first time, I apologize for the delay, but getting things straightened out at work precluded me from doing a large Facebook announcement. And the past couple of weeks have been a little busy. So...here goes!
As of March 27, I will once again be an IL resident.
This isn't a decision that has come lightly, or without a lot of planning. Realistically, the decision has been coming for the past year or so. And I am really excited about the possibilities. I'll be leaving my current job, and will becoming an independent contractor for the same company. So all of the traveling I've been doing the past 3 years will still be there, if anything, I'll probably be traveling more. But I won't have the same job responsibilities on top of what I'm doing while I travel. So that will definitely be nice. And in addition to that, I'll get to set my own schedule. Which...let's face it...is awesome.
Never fear DC friends, I'll be having a going away party before I leave so I can see all of you one more time. And I'll definitely be coming back to visit. And of course, I'll be in Cedar Point in September. So you won't get THAT much of an opportunity to miss me.
In the entire process of getting things ready to move, there are some pretty funny things I have come across.
1.) I'll be moving from Connecticut Ave in Washington, DC to a rural route address in Southern IL. To be honest, I can't think of 2 more different addresses. And at the same time, I am so excited about it.
2.) I'll be moving from a 350 square foot apartment to a 3 bedroom house with a full basement. WAHOO!! Yes, Cedric gets his own room.
3.) This will be my fifth...yes 5!...move in the past 3 and a half years. And hopefully my last for a very, very long time. I have clearly gotten too good at packing, because this past weekend, I packed over 3/4 of my stuff in less than 2 days, and didn't have to think twice about what needed to be done.
4.) I have to buy a car. And insurance. Granted, my dad has been an amazing support through the whole process. But it seems a little surreal.
Though this has been coming for a while, the whole thing seems to be happening very fast. But I absolutely cannot wait. I'll definitely be keeping you updated on the progress, and in the mean time, I'll try to post some photos of the disaster that my apartment is going to be over the next month.
Wish me luck!
As of March 27, I will once again be an IL resident.
This isn't a decision that has come lightly, or without a lot of planning. Realistically, the decision has been coming for the past year or so. And I am really excited about the possibilities. I'll be leaving my current job, and will becoming an independent contractor for the same company. So all of the traveling I've been doing the past 3 years will still be there, if anything, I'll probably be traveling more. But I won't have the same job responsibilities on top of what I'm doing while I travel. So that will definitely be nice. And in addition to that, I'll get to set my own schedule. Which...let's face it...is awesome.
Never fear DC friends, I'll be having a going away party before I leave so I can see all of you one more time. And I'll definitely be coming back to visit. And of course, I'll be in Cedar Point in September. So you won't get THAT much of an opportunity to miss me.
In the entire process of getting things ready to move, there are some pretty funny things I have come across.
1.) I'll be moving from Connecticut Ave in Washington, DC to a rural route address in Southern IL. To be honest, I can't think of 2 more different addresses. And at the same time, I am so excited about it.
2.) I'll be moving from a 350 square foot apartment to a 3 bedroom house with a full basement. WAHOO!! Yes, Cedric gets his own room.
3.) This will be my fifth...yes 5!...move in the past 3 and a half years. And hopefully my last for a very, very long time. I have clearly gotten too good at packing, because this past weekend, I packed over 3/4 of my stuff in less than 2 days, and didn't have to think twice about what needed to be done.
4.) I have to buy a car. And insurance. Granted, my dad has been an amazing support through the whole process. But it seems a little surreal.
Though this has been coming for a while, the whole thing seems to be happening very fast. But I absolutely cannot wait. I'll definitely be keeping you updated on the progress, and in the mean time, I'll try to post some photos of the disaster that my apartment is going to be over the next month.
Wish me luck!
Friday, February 10, 2012
The Grill
There are few things in my life that I choose to spend an extravagant amount of money on. Of course, my hobby is one of the more expensive ones, and I'm always spending what little extra cash I have on triathlon. And, well, the remainder of my mad money is typically spent on food.
At least I have my priorities straight.
And when I think about the stuff that I want for my life, I don't need extravagance. When I can (hopefully soon) purchase a car, I'm probably going to buy a Ford Focus. I buy a majority of my clothes at Target. And in general, I'm not a high maintenance, must spend money for status as opposed to quality type of girl.
In most cases, that is.
As mentioned in previous posts, I've been mentally re-decorating the house that I currently don't live in. And I've been thinking about the things that I want to put in this house. And when I think about the things that I've been living without while apartment dwelling in DC the past 2 and a half years, the thing I miss the most is a grill. Food cooked with fire. To me, there is absolutely nothing better in the entire world. And I've eaten some pretty good food.
So I have decided, no matter what it takes, I'm buying top of the line, can make food for 50 people, grill. And it will be amazing.
Say it's nature or nurture, whatever it is...I come from a grilling family. In fact, when it comes to buying my dad presents, you buy the man tools or something to do with grilling. We Hooks' make entire meals on the grill. Pizza and french fries and baked beans, all cooked on the grill.
So while the Dad and I were shopping for work gloves (me) and screws, drill bit, etc (dad) on Monday at Lowe's we spent an large amount of time drooling over the grill selections, determining which ones would work best, and fit the needs that we have for grilling. And of course, all of the fun gadgets and tools that they have to accompany the grills. In fact, the Dad got a sweet new LED light that attaches to the handle of your grill so you can see the food your cooking as you grill at night. When I get a grill of my own, that light is going to be a must have.
I can almost taste it right now. Fresh, homemade, the cow was alive 3 days ago hamburgers. Please excuse me while I wipe the drool from my face.
At least I have my priorities straight.
And when I think about the stuff that I want for my life, I don't need extravagance. When I can (hopefully soon) purchase a car, I'm probably going to buy a Ford Focus. I buy a majority of my clothes at Target. And in general, I'm not a high maintenance, must spend money for status as opposed to quality type of girl.
In most cases, that is.
As mentioned in previous posts, I've been mentally re-decorating the house that I currently don't live in. And I've been thinking about the things that I want to put in this house. And when I think about the things that I've been living without while apartment dwelling in DC the past 2 and a half years, the thing I miss the most is a grill. Food cooked with fire. To me, there is absolutely nothing better in the entire world. And I've eaten some pretty good food.
So I have decided, no matter what it takes, I'm buying top of the line, can make food for 50 people, grill. And it will be amazing.
Say it's nature or nurture, whatever it is...I come from a grilling family. In fact, when it comes to buying my dad presents, you buy the man tools or something to do with grilling. We Hooks' make entire meals on the grill. Pizza and french fries and baked beans, all cooked on the grill.
So while the Dad and I were shopping for work gloves (me) and screws, drill bit, etc (dad) on Monday at Lowe's we spent an large amount of time drooling over the grill selections, determining which ones would work best, and fit the needs that we have for grilling. And of course, all of the fun gadgets and tools that they have to accompany the grills. In fact, the Dad got a sweet new LED light that attaches to the handle of your grill so you can see the food your cooking as you grill at night. When I get a grill of my own, that light is going to be a must have.
I can almost taste it right now. Fresh, homemade, the cow was alive 3 days ago hamburgers. Please excuse me while I wipe the drool from my face.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
The Travel Chronicles: Volume 1
Greetings from The Sunshine State! As many of you know, I travel frequently. And it has been mentioned to me before that I should write about some of my adventures. So in a yet to be determined number of entries, I present a mini-series in the adventures of a young, female, single, business traveler.
Prompted by something that happened at the end of my flight yesterday, we are going to start this mini-series with men.
Depending on what airport you travel from, to or through, you're going to come a cross just about any specific type of traveler. You have your George Clooney-esque (a la Up in the Air) business men (who typically provide some of the most entertainment, if only because they're really all the same man in a different body. You have your families traveling to whatever destination vacation of their choice. If you fly through MCO (Orlando) they will inevitably be dressed in some form of Disney character t-shirts, and 9 times out of 10, someone in the group is wearing Mickey ears. If you're out west, you're going to have the random guy(s) with a mullet (yes, they really do still exist). And if you're going through NY, Newark, or Boston, you're going to have a cluster f#%$ of really loud, annoying people.
But as I said before, this go-round, we're focusing on men.
Maybe I give guys too much credit, but I would think most people, males especially, would be more...well...with it...when they travel. In the past month, I have had to remind a guy that his suitcase was still sitting at the end of the screening belt after going through security, directed 2 guys to a bathroom that was directly in front of them, and laughed at a guy sitting next to me for reasons we shall soon get to. But this has made me realize that we womens need to take care of the men. Even if they're only in our lives as fellow travelers.
I'm a nice person. And I've made my career out of talking to people. So when I travel (unless you catch me on a morning when I haven't drank enough coffee) I try to be a nice, friendly person. I talk to anyone. But what has happened several times (too numerous to count, actually) is I'll be talking to a guy who just happens to be standing next to me in line to get on the plane, or sitting next to me on the plane, or wherever we happen to be. They just happen to be the person next to me at the time. I can't help it that they're male, and I'm female. Or that I'm a single female to boot. So I'm just going to put this out there:
I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE MARRIED. I'M NOT HITTING ON YOU. If we are having a conversation, it's more because I'm trying to pass the time, than to make a pass at you.
Yesterday, when I finally got to my seat on the plane, the guy sitting next to me seemed friendly enough. We chatted just a little bit before take off. He threatened to start crying once the plane took off. I threatened to punch him if he did. It was banter. It was not flirting (though I admit that there is occasionally a fine line between the two). As we landed (no crying or punching during the flight, he worked, I read) we again made some small talk. I did the standard "are you from here or here for work?" And he hesitated before answering..."I'm here with a...uh...friend...and their family. A...uh...mm...uh...(whisper) female...uh...friend."
Me: "Oh nice, vacation." But what I really wanted to say is "do you really think I care you have a girlfriend?" Good for you, would you like a cookie?
I admit, perhaps he just didn't know what to think about the relationship, and doesn't know what term to call her. But my guess is that if you're on vacation with her AND her family, it's at least got to be fairly serious. No need to hide it.
Speaking of hiding things. I'm an observant person. I like to people watch when I travel. It's one of the ways to pass the time and offset the impending boredom. And I notice things...like wedding rings, jewelry of any kind really, what people are wearing, shoes, bags, etc.. Especially of guys having loud conversations around me. So, when I happen to be the one next to you in line, and strike up a conversation, it's fairly obvious what you're trying to do when you keep that left hand cemented in your pocket. Even when it becomes awkward, like walking forward, or handing the person scanning tickets your ticket with your right hand, while that left hand still remains in your pocket is awkward. Again, you are not hiding anything.
Now, maybe it's the fact that the male species needs a bit of an ego boost. Or something like that. To think that even though they're not single, some cute, single girl is talking to them. And *gasp* possibly interested in them. Or whatever the reason may be. It doesn't matter. The fact remains the same, I'm just a friendly person, looking the pass the time. Not looking for a romp in the airport hay.
So there you have it folks. Boys (men, though if you continue the childish behavior seen above, I will continue to call you boys) take note. And everyone, stay tuned for the next installment.
Prompted by something that happened at the end of my flight yesterday, we are going to start this mini-series with men.
Depending on what airport you travel from, to or through, you're going to come a cross just about any specific type of traveler. You have your George Clooney-esque (a la Up in the Air) business men (who typically provide some of the most entertainment, if only because they're really all the same man in a different body. You have your families traveling to whatever destination vacation of their choice. If you fly through MCO (Orlando) they will inevitably be dressed in some form of Disney character t-shirts, and 9 times out of 10, someone in the group is wearing Mickey ears. If you're out west, you're going to have the random guy(s) with a mullet (yes, they really do still exist). And if you're going through NY, Newark, or Boston, you're going to have a cluster f#%$ of really loud, annoying people.
But as I said before, this go-round, we're focusing on men.
Maybe I give guys too much credit, but I would think most people, males especially, would be more...well...with it...when they travel. In the past month, I have had to remind a guy that his suitcase was still sitting at the end of the screening belt after going through security, directed 2 guys to a bathroom that was directly in front of them, and laughed at a guy sitting next to me for reasons we shall soon get to. But this has made me realize that we womens need to take care of the men. Even if they're only in our lives as fellow travelers.
I'm a nice person. And I've made my career out of talking to people. So when I travel (unless you catch me on a morning when I haven't drank enough coffee) I try to be a nice, friendly person. I talk to anyone. But what has happened several times (too numerous to count, actually) is I'll be talking to a guy who just happens to be standing next to me in line to get on the plane, or sitting next to me on the plane, or wherever we happen to be. They just happen to be the person next to me at the time. I can't help it that they're male, and I'm female. Or that I'm a single female to boot. So I'm just going to put this out there:
I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE MARRIED. I'M NOT HITTING ON YOU. If we are having a conversation, it's more because I'm trying to pass the time, than to make a pass at you.
Yesterday, when I finally got to my seat on the plane, the guy sitting next to me seemed friendly enough. We chatted just a little bit before take off. He threatened to start crying once the plane took off. I threatened to punch him if he did. It was banter. It was not flirting (though I admit that there is occasionally a fine line between the two). As we landed (no crying or punching during the flight, he worked, I read) we again made some small talk. I did the standard "are you from here or here for work?" And he hesitated before answering..."I'm here with a...uh...friend...and their family. A...uh...mm...uh...(whisper) female...uh...friend."
Me: "Oh nice, vacation." But what I really wanted to say is "do you really think I care you have a girlfriend?" Good for you, would you like a cookie?
I admit, perhaps he just didn't know what to think about the relationship, and doesn't know what term to call her. But my guess is that if you're on vacation with her AND her family, it's at least got to be fairly serious. No need to hide it.
Speaking of hiding things. I'm an observant person. I like to people watch when I travel. It's one of the ways to pass the time and offset the impending boredom. And I notice things...like wedding rings, jewelry of any kind really, what people are wearing, shoes, bags, etc.. Especially of guys having loud conversations around me. So, when I happen to be the one next to you in line, and strike up a conversation, it's fairly obvious what you're trying to do when you keep that left hand cemented in your pocket. Even when it becomes awkward, like walking forward, or handing the person scanning tickets your ticket with your right hand, while that left hand still remains in your pocket is awkward. Again, you are not hiding anything.
Now, maybe it's the fact that the male species needs a bit of an ego boost. Or something like that. To think that even though they're not single, some cute, single girl is talking to them. And *gasp* possibly interested in them. Or whatever the reason may be. It doesn't matter. The fact remains the same, I'm just a friendly person, looking the pass the time. Not looking for a romp in the airport hay.
So there you have it folks. Boys (men, though if you continue the childish behavior seen above, I will continue to call you boys) take note. And everyone, stay tuned for the next installment.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Guilty Pleasures
This week, I spent 4 days doing nothing but lay on the couch. And for a little excitement in my life, I would occasionally lay on my bed. Watching trashy day time TV. But hey, when you're sick, what else are you going to do? One afternoon, I was watching The Chew on ABC, and the entire show was dedicated to guilty pleasures. At the time, it was rather entertaining to watch the 4 goof ball hosts laugh about their secret guilty pleasures, including a fried egg and bologna sandwich, Judge Judy, and ironing.
Though it really didn't resonate at the time (my mind being a little befuddled with illness), the concept eventually got me thinking about what my guilty pleasures are.
My first thought was coffee. But then I realized, I don't really feel guilty about drinking coffee. In fact, I would say that it's necessary for me (though I did go without coffee while sick). The me you all know and love does not exist without coffee. But I know I'm not alone in this either.
So then I got down to business, and started listing what my real guilty pleasures are.
1) Spoon + Jar of PB + Jar of Strawberry Jelly. - Allow me to sit down with this combination, and I will be one happy camper. Because it's also a ridiculous amount of calories, and tends to leave me feeling less than stellar, this doesn't happen that often. But when it does...mm mm mm mm mm.
2) Watching cable TV - when I'm traveling only, because I don't have cable of any sort at home. I will sit in my hotel room for hours on end (because, let's face it, I often don't get sent to great destinations) and watch marathons of crappy TV. USA and the Food Network are by far my faves. Ok, so when I'm home, my antenna does have ION, which also is a good substitute for real cable channels.
3) Laying in bed. Ok, I'm not talking about the doing nothing but laying in bed for 4 days straight, incapable of doing nothing else (like this week). Every morning, when my alarm goes off, I hit snooze a couple of times, and many mornings, I'll just stay in bed. Now that I'm not currently doing 2 a day works outs, this has been happening a lot lately. I stay in bed, and enjoy the warmth, and fantasize about a number of different things. Occasionally, I'll think of all of the wonderful things I could accomplish if I called in sick that day. Or how I want to redecorate my house (that I don't currently live in). Or what I want for my future. Or what groceries I need to buy, or what food I want to make soon. It's typically a random assortment of topics that pass through my brain, but it's really just my favorite time of day. Before I get up and shower and head to work, because my fantasy about calling in that day never seems possible unless I'm actually sick. And I walk around my tiny studio apartment, and stub my toes, elbows, or whatever other body part sticks out, and wishing that I was living in a much larger home.
There are probably a multitude of other things, mainly foods that I rarely allow myself to eat (including a grilled goat cheese sandwich, bacon, pie, and chocolate cake). But those listed above are really what does it for me.
So...what is your guilty pleasure?
Though it really didn't resonate at the time (my mind being a little befuddled with illness), the concept eventually got me thinking about what my guilty pleasures are.
My first thought was coffee. But then I realized, I don't really feel guilty about drinking coffee. In fact, I would say that it's necessary for me (though I did go without coffee while sick). The me you all know and love does not exist without coffee. But I know I'm not alone in this either.
So then I got down to business, and started listing what my real guilty pleasures are.
1) Spoon + Jar of PB + Jar of Strawberry Jelly. - Allow me to sit down with this combination, and I will be one happy camper. Because it's also a ridiculous amount of calories, and tends to leave me feeling less than stellar, this doesn't happen that often. But when it does...mm mm mm mm mm.
2) Watching cable TV - when I'm traveling only, because I don't have cable of any sort at home. I will sit in my hotel room for hours on end (because, let's face it, I often don't get sent to great destinations) and watch marathons of crappy TV. USA and the Food Network are by far my faves. Ok, so when I'm home, my antenna does have ION, which also is a good substitute for real cable channels.
3) Laying in bed. Ok, I'm not talking about the doing nothing but laying in bed for 4 days straight, incapable of doing nothing else (like this week). Every morning, when my alarm goes off, I hit snooze a couple of times, and many mornings, I'll just stay in bed. Now that I'm not currently doing 2 a day works outs, this has been happening a lot lately. I stay in bed, and enjoy the warmth, and fantasize about a number of different things. Occasionally, I'll think of all of the wonderful things I could accomplish if I called in sick that day. Or how I want to redecorate my house (that I don't currently live in). Or what I want for my future. Or what groceries I need to buy, or what food I want to make soon. It's typically a random assortment of topics that pass through my brain, but it's really just my favorite time of day. Before I get up and shower and head to work, because my fantasy about calling in that day never seems possible unless I'm actually sick. And I walk around my tiny studio apartment, and stub my toes, elbows, or whatever other body part sticks out, and wishing that I was living in a much larger home.
There are probably a multitude of other things, mainly foods that I rarely allow myself to eat (including a grilled goat cheese sandwich, bacon, pie, and chocolate cake). But those listed above are really what does it for me.
So...what is your guilty pleasure?
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Writing It All Down
I am a writer. Not that I get paid to do so. But I'm a writer. Obviously, you're reading something I've written right now. Some things I write to share with other people, some things I write just to get it out of my head, and them immediately wish I could burn it...never to think about that thing ever again. Over the years, it's become a comfort to me. And through my writing, I have gotten support, feedback, contradiction and compassion...none of which I would have received had I not written it down.
There are other aspects of my life that seem to be recorded for posterity...or other pursuits as well. I write down what I eat to keep track of calories. I (occasionally) write down how much money I spend to keep track of my budget. But oddly enough, the one thing I haven't done well at is writing down how many miles I ran, rode, or swam.
My Grandma, yes, the crazy Grandma that roller skated down a huge hill, wrote everything down. For years growing up, I was amazed at what she wrote down. Every single day, she would write how many steps she would take, with the goal of being taking a certain number of steps every day for exercise. And I'm not just talking about the times she actually went for a walk, the woman included the steps she took to go to the bathroom, or out to the kitchen. EVERY SINGLE STEP. Beyond her exercise goals, she still wrote everything down. Of course, she and my grandpa came from the era where most of their courtship was handled from letters. Unfortunately, we'll never know her side of the story, because after my grandpa wanted her to throw out his letters, she did the exact opposite. She stashed his letters away, and burned her own. This is one of the most unfortunate things I can imagine, because there was one afternoon growing up that my family sat down (sans grandparents) and read my grandpa's letters. It's the hardest I ever remember laughing. Beyond that, it's the hardest I ever remember my dad laughing growing up (which is saying something if you know my dad). To date, there are still journals of my grandma's that my parents refer back to when the need arises to know when a certain cousin's birthday is, or when some other significant life event happened. Even when they built the house in Florida, my grandma wrote down every single thing they paid for, and how much it cost. Looking back, it may not all be relevant to life today, but, it's still interesting. It's like a history lesson. Ok, it's not like a history lesson. It IS a history lesson.
So...what is my point here? Some would say that I write a lot of stuff about my life down. And I do. But I think I could do better. I'm not about to start recording every single step that I take a day, or writing a daily journal of what I do. But something I have found helpful is to be able to quantify what I have done. Maybe if I had recorded how many laps I had swam last year, I would have been prompted to take action about quantity there before. Or knowing how many miles I've ran to train for a marathon. It doesn't matter if I share it with anyone, but it may actually help to keep track, keep myself accountable for what I do. So I've tried to do...better...this year so far about recording what workouts I've done when. So maybe, by the time September rolls around, and I (keeping all fingers, toes, and all other appendages crossed) cross the finish line at Cedar Point, I'll be able to say...yes, today I crossed 140.6 miles today. But x amount of miles is what the journey really included. Or something prolific like that.
I try not to dwell on the past very often. It happened, it's done. Let's move forward. But my history, history in general is something that we carry with us no matter who we are, or where we go in life. And there is something to be said that we can't really move forward until we know where we've been. To put it another way, I've been down that path before, and it didn't work out so well, so why would I be crazy enough to do it again? So every once in a while, I find it useful to take a look back, see where I've been, where I am now, and reflect on the journey to get from point A to point B. I'm not the same person I was 10 years ago, I'm not even the same person I was a year ago. There are definitely pieces that are much the same, but I've grown a lot. Changed, some might even say. But I do carry those pieces of me moving forward. The written reminder just helps to remember it correctly.
There are other aspects of my life that seem to be recorded for posterity...or other pursuits as well. I write down what I eat to keep track of calories. I (occasionally) write down how much money I spend to keep track of my budget. But oddly enough, the one thing I haven't done well at is writing down how many miles I ran, rode, or swam.
My Grandma, yes, the crazy Grandma that roller skated down a huge hill, wrote everything down. For years growing up, I was amazed at what she wrote down. Every single day, she would write how many steps she would take, with the goal of being taking a certain number of steps every day for exercise. And I'm not just talking about the times she actually went for a walk, the woman included the steps she took to go to the bathroom, or out to the kitchen. EVERY SINGLE STEP. Beyond her exercise goals, she still wrote everything down. Of course, she and my grandpa came from the era where most of their courtship was handled from letters. Unfortunately, we'll never know her side of the story, because after my grandpa wanted her to throw out his letters, she did the exact opposite. She stashed his letters away, and burned her own. This is one of the most unfortunate things I can imagine, because there was one afternoon growing up that my family sat down (sans grandparents) and read my grandpa's letters. It's the hardest I ever remember laughing. Beyond that, it's the hardest I ever remember my dad laughing growing up (which is saying something if you know my dad). To date, there are still journals of my grandma's that my parents refer back to when the need arises to know when a certain cousin's birthday is, or when some other significant life event happened. Even when they built the house in Florida, my grandma wrote down every single thing they paid for, and how much it cost. Looking back, it may not all be relevant to life today, but, it's still interesting. It's like a history lesson. Ok, it's not like a history lesson. It IS a history lesson.
So...what is my point here? Some would say that I write a lot of stuff about my life down. And I do. But I think I could do better. I'm not about to start recording every single step that I take a day, or writing a daily journal of what I do. But something I have found helpful is to be able to quantify what I have done. Maybe if I had recorded how many laps I had swam last year, I would have been prompted to take action about quantity there before. Or knowing how many miles I've ran to train for a marathon. It doesn't matter if I share it with anyone, but it may actually help to keep track, keep myself accountable for what I do. So I've tried to do...better...this year so far about recording what workouts I've done when. So maybe, by the time September rolls around, and I (keeping all fingers, toes, and all other appendages crossed) cross the finish line at Cedar Point, I'll be able to say...yes, today I crossed 140.6 miles today. But x amount of miles is what the journey really included. Or something prolific like that.
I try not to dwell on the past very often. It happened, it's done. Let's move forward. But my history, history in general is something that we carry with us no matter who we are, or where we go in life. And there is something to be said that we can't really move forward until we know where we've been. To put it another way, I've been down that path before, and it didn't work out so well, so why would I be crazy enough to do it again? So every once in a while, I find it useful to take a look back, see where I've been, where I am now, and reflect on the journey to get from point A to point B. I'm not the same person I was 10 years ago, I'm not even the same person I was a year ago. There are definitely pieces that are much the same, but I've grown a lot. Changed, some might even say. But I do carry those pieces of me moving forward. The written reminder just helps to remember it correctly.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Salad Stylings
Hello, my name is Johanna, and I hate salad.
If you're trying to eat a healthy diet of food, salad has always been at the top of the list of things to eat. And, of course, doctors have told us for many years that eating a lot of leafy green veggies is one of the keys to a successful healthy lifestyle.
But here's the thing, I really just don't enjoy salad. In all honestly, I probably never have, even way back to when I was a kid. In fact, I remember one meal when I was at some buffet-type restaurant, and I loaded up my plate with a little bit of lettuce, and a lot of toppings. As my dad was going through the line behind me, he even commented that I really wasn't putting a salad together, so much as a mixture of the yummy stuff. (At the time, he probably phrased it quite differently, but the sentiment is still the same.) Even now, I will eat whatever leafy greens make up the actual "salad" portion of the meal, and then leave the toppings for last. It's nice to know that some things never change.
As I mentioned previously, if you're trying to eat healthy (like I do) salads are the staple food. But also, when you happen to be genetically inferior like me (gluten AND dairy free...not just by choice) you are often relegated to the world of salads. For example, last week, I was presenting at a school, and some of the directors wanted it go to lunch together. Not knowing the city we were in, I was at a loss for what to suggest. The executive director took over, and suggested an Italian restaurant. I immediately prayed that actually had salad, because even if the standard salad comes with cheese, it's not a huge deal to request that it not come with cheese.
But are you getting the idea that I'm fun to eat with? Because it's a joy sometimes, and makes me feel ridiculously high maintenance. Perhaps I should just wear a button that says "I'm not really high maintenance, it's just my GI track that is." There have been many meals where I've had to order something like: I'd like a bowl of chili, but no cheese on that, and I'd like the grilled chicken sandwich without the bread. Yes, just give me all the toppings, and the chicken, but not bread. Or when the meal actually comes out: I'm sorry, the description on the menu didn't include that you poured an entire cup of cheese over the spinach, so I would really appreciate (and so would my traveling companions) if you could take that back to the kitchen, not spit in it, and bring it back dairy free. Thanks! Or even: I ordered the naked tenders, not the regular ones, so no, I'm not going to keep the thing that I didn't order, and yes, I'm going to cut your tip because you didn't pay attention to what I ordered, brought me the wrong thing, and then expected me to eat it anyway. :)
So anyway, back to the scary Italian restaurant. They did have salad, they actually had salad that didn't automatically come with cheese on it, thus my looking like an ass hat that doesn't like food was significantly reduced. And I ate the salad. There were even moments that I enjoyed what I was eating. Admittedly, those were the moments when I was eating the toppings, but still...there were a few enjoyable bites in there. And of course, I ate the entire thing because even at 2pm, I was aware that this would be my only chance to eat any amount of food of substance until after 10pm when I would get back home.
I'm sure I can't be the only one out there that doesn't like salad. I've admitted it, it took a long time to do so, but I did it. And I would like to stand up and say that it's ok not to like salad. It doesn't mean that I don't eat healthy. But I'm more likely to eat tomatoes, avocado, bell peppers, and whatever other veggie I'm in the mood for sans lettuce, spinach, arugula or whatever leafy green you might throw my way.
If you're trying to eat a healthy diet of food, salad has always been at the top of the list of things to eat. And, of course, doctors have told us for many years that eating a lot of leafy green veggies is one of the keys to a successful healthy lifestyle.
But here's the thing, I really just don't enjoy salad. In all honestly, I probably never have, even way back to when I was a kid. In fact, I remember one meal when I was at some buffet-type restaurant, and I loaded up my plate with a little bit of lettuce, and a lot of toppings. As my dad was going through the line behind me, he even commented that I really wasn't putting a salad together, so much as a mixture of the yummy stuff. (At the time, he probably phrased it quite differently, but the sentiment is still the same.) Even now, I will eat whatever leafy greens make up the actual "salad" portion of the meal, and then leave the toppings for last. It's nice to know that some things never change.
As I mentioned previously, if you're trying to eat healthy (like I do) salads are the staple food. But also, when you happen to be genetically inferior like me (gluten AND dairy free...not just by choice) you are often relegated to the world of salads. For example, last week, I was presenting at a school, and some of the directors wanted it go to lunch together. Not knowing the city we were in, I was at a loss for what to suggest. The executive director took over, and suggested an Italian restaurant. I immediately prayed that actually had salad, because even if the standard salad comes with cheese, it's not a huge deal to request that it not come with cheese.
But are you getting the idea that I'm fun to eat with? Because it's a joy sometimes, and makes me feel ridiculously high maintenance. Perhaps I should just wear a button that says "I'm not really high maintenance, it's just my GI track that is." There have been many meals where I've had to order something like: I'd like a bowl of chili, but no cheese on that, and I'd like the grilled chicken sandwich without the bread. Yes, just give me all the toppings, and the chicken, but not bread. Or when the meal actually comes out: I'm sorry, the description on the menu didn't include that you poured an entire cup of cheese over the spinach, so I would really appreciate (and so would my traveling companions) if you could take that back to the kitchen, not spit in it, and bring it back dairy free. Thanks! Or even: I ordered the naked tenders, not the regular ones, so no, I'm not going to keep the thing that I didn't order, and yes, I'm going to cut your tip because you didn't pay attention to what I ordered, brought me the wrong thing, and then expected me to eat it anyway. :)
So anyway, back to the scary Italian restaurant. They did have salad, they actually had salad that didn't automatically come with cheese on it, thus my looking like an ass hat that doesn't like food was significantly reduced. And I ate the salad. There were even moments that I enjoyed what I was eating. Admittedly, those were the moments when I was eating the toppings, but still...there were a few enjoyable bites in there. And of course, I ate the entire thing because even at 2pm, I was aware that this would be my only chance to eat any amount of food of substance until after 10pm when I would get back home.
I'm sure I can't be the only one out there that doesn't like salad. I've admitted it, it took a long time to do so, but I did it. And I would like to stand up and say that it's ok not to like salad. It doesn't mean that I don't eat healthy. But I'm more likely to eat tomatoes, avocado, bell peppers, and whatever other veggie I'm in the mood for sans lettuce, spinach, arugula or whatever leafy green you might throw my way.
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