Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Food. Food. Fooooood.

I am currently in hour two of a 15-hour fast.
It is not for religious purpose.
It is not because I just read about the dangers of fasting in this month's Self magazine and want to try one "to see for myself."
It's for the blood work that I have to get tomorrow.

I know this perpetually-on-a-diet body of mine could probably survive longer than a camel in the desert on the food/fat stored within it - like last week's half gallon of chocolate marshmallow ice cream for example - but knowing I cannot eat anything until after 8 a.m. tomorrow is making me so hungry I want to eat my own hand.

I realized I follow way too many food bloggers and Twitterers because every five seconds I'm seeing something that's making my belly growl.
Never mind that I've also been cruising their pages to suffice my hunger.
{Or entice, in textbook masochist fashion, I can't decide.}
But mostly to live vicariously through this 15 hour span that I will hopefully sleep through much of.

This makes me realize that I put way too much emphasis on food in my life.
I live my life around it.
{Hell, part of my job is writing about it!}
I'm always hungry.
{A friend is convinced I have a tapeworm, I chalk it up to iron deficiency or possibly, gulp, the diabetes that runs in my family.}

I realized it's a relationship I really have to end.
I am too obsessed with it.

After the Chocolate Marshmallow Ice Cream Incident, I made a firm pact with myself to really, really strive to eat healthier.
To finally take it seriously.
Maybe fasting is just what the doctor ordered.
{Pun totally intended, naturally.}

Friday, June 26, 2009

For Poison, who I will always always ALWAYS love.

On Sunday June 28, I will see my 14th Poison concert.
Yes, I said 14.
Some people followed the Dead. Phish. Bob Dylan.
Me, I follow Poison.

I fell in love with them 22 years ago, at the ripe age of 10.
I would roller skate in our laundry room and always stole a tape from my brother to rock out to in my alabaster white skates with fabulous purple bumpers.
One day that tape happened to be "Look What The Cat Dragged In."
I promptly fell in love with singer Bret Michaels, and I haven't looked back since.
{I've always been a sucker for blue-eyed boys.}

I can still draw a perfect Poison logo and I cannot, in fact, write the band's name without actually drawing said logo.
{For a long time, I actually thought about getting the logo tattooed on myself, but a desperate fear of needles put the kibosh on that particular dream.}
Poison Logo Pictures, Images and Photos
I've traveled to California and North and South Carolina to see the band.
Its music is my happy place, and it always will be.

My top 5 poison songs are as follows:
1. "Something to Believe In."
{Always reminds me of my beloved Pop-Pop who died in 1990, right around the time this song was huge, because of the line "You take the high road, I'll take the low road." That was our special saying.}
2. "Life Loves a Tragedy."
{My brother and I vowed long ago to make sure this is played at our funerals. God forbid.}
3. "Fire & Ice."
{It's such a fantastic break-up song that unfortunately fits my love life.}
4. "Good Love."
{One of my favorite Get It On Songs. That I've never actually Got It On to. Damn non-Poison fan exes.}
5. TIE: "Home (Bret's Story)." / "Let It Play."
{"Home" refers to the legendary Rainbow Bar & Grill on Sunset Blvd. in L.A., where not only Poison hung out, but Led Zeppelin, who is my ultimate favorite band. It was amazing seeing it as a fan and wannabe groupie. "Let It Play" is the epitome of how I feel when I listen to music in general, but Poison especially: "When I hear the music/ All my troubles just fade away."}

Times I've seen Poison:

1. Feb. 21, 1991 at the Kingston Armory, Kingston, Pa.
{Went with my brother and his girlfriend at the time. I had to keep my room clean for like three months for my mom to let me go to my first official concert.}

2. June 7, 1991 at Hersheypark Stadium, Hershey, Pa.
{Mommalah took me to this one, and yes, she is a fan.}

3. July 13, 1999 at Montage Mountain in Moosic, Pa.
{With brother and friends.}

4. July 6, 2000 at Montage.
{It was either this show or No. 3 or No. 4 that me, my brother and his friends ran down the rocky hill in the dark between the parking lot and the ski lodge and I fell off a wall into LA Guns' Bus and one of the members came out to see if I was OK. Good times.}

5. June 20, 2001 at Montage.
{With brother and friends.}

6. July 6, 2002 at Montage.
{This was the first time I finally met Bret, after spending $20 to join his fan club, which garnered me a brief, albeit nearly orgasmic, meet & greet. He signed my favorite album ("Flesh & Blood") with "Nikki, Something to Believe In, Bret." The picture is below. If you look hard enough, you can see the tears in my eyes.}
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7. July 3, 2003 at the Universal Amphitheater in Los Angeles.
{We went to the Rainbow post-concert and saw a SLEW of rockers, except for my Poison boys.}

8. June 19, 2004 at the Verizon Wireless Amphitheater in Irvine, Ca.
{This was a most eventual concert experience for my brother, "sister" and I, but what happens in Irvine, stays in Irvine, thank you very much. They opened for KISS, my brother's favorite band on the planet. Stars within touching distance: Gene's kids Nick and Sophie and Shannon Tweed, Lance Bass, Kato Kaelin and Zakk Wylde, who incidentally, my beloved late dog was named after.}

9. July 23, 2004 at Montage.
{I went to this with Mommalah because she too is a mucho grande KISS fan.}

10. June 25, 2006 at Montage.
{Went to this with my former editor. Since I was at the Weekender at this time, I actually got to interview Bret, who told his publicist to give me passes so I could give him the article. Which he signed "Love & Poison, Bret." I also wrote a personal column about how much I loved the band - he signed that one "Love & Respect, Bret." I swoon every time I see them, which is every day because I have them framed in my home office. The picture is below. We totally look like a couple. I told Bret I'd be seeing them again in two months time and he said he'd look for me, which made me swoon, even though I knew it was just a line. }
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11. Aug. 23, 2006 at the House of Blues in Myrtle Beach, S.C.
{Went with brother and "sister." This was the best Poison show because it was intimate, the band was really tight (never mind that two days later Bret and Bobby got into a fight on stage), and it was just fantastic. Also, it might be because Bret spotted me from the crowd - I WAS jumping up and down at the time during a particularly quiet moment - and gave me a shout out, saying "I remember you! I know where you came from!" True f'ing story, friendo. I may have cried. A pic from that show is below.}
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12. June 17, 2007 at the Verizon Wireless Amphitheater in Charlotte, N.C.
{With brother and "sister" again. Third row, best seats I ever had. No flipping camera. Balls!}

13. Aug. 27, 2007 at Montage.
{With my BFF and other friends. The first Poison show I got completely shitfaced at.}

How fitting is it that "Look What The Cat Dragged In" played on Sirius' Hair Nation as I was finishing this?
That's flipping fate if ever there was fate my friends.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Dressy thinspiration.

I am obsessed with dresses.

There was a time, long ago, that will hopefully never, ever return, where I was ashamed to wear dresses because I could never find any that made me feel good about myself.

But two years ago, I lost 25 pounds and have been infatuated with dresses ever since.
{Never mind, won't you, that I've been at this plateau weight for about a year and a half. Grr.}

Today I added an adorable purple number to my repertoire. It even comes with a sash, and I do adore sashes.

I feel so classic in them, and I think that's why I love dresses so much: they remind me of that bygone era when women were so elegant they wouldn't be caught in pants.

I always feel so feminine whilst wearing a dress, especially in the summer, and especially since I'm not really a girly-girl. Case in point:
- I've had the same curly hair since fifth grade and only learned how to use a flatiron two years ago.
- This leads to being unable to do any type of styling of my own aside from loose and curly, loose and straight or either of those in a ponytail. I'd give anything to figure out how to do that teased up do that Lauren Conrad of "The Hills" is so fond of, but alas, I was born without the patience/coordination to really learn.
- I cannot pluck my own eyebrows.
- I don't paint my toenails, I merely slap it on haphazardly like a 2-year-old and scrub it off with a loofah in the shower.

Back to the dresses.

I've acquired quite a few sassy finds over the past few weeks and I'm looking at them as my new thinspiration, especially since I go on vacation in 44 days. Yes I'm counting and yes, I have a new diet goal. As per usual.
{Never mind, won't you, that I bought a half-gallon of chocolate marshmallow ice cream last night in a fit of weakness. I vow to throw it out on garbage night. On Tuesday. If it even lasts that long.}

Here is one of my new favorites.
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Sunday, June 21, 2009

An ode to my stuffed rabbit Freddy.

When I was 3, I did something I wasn't supposed to when we lived on the "city" side of Dallas, Pa. (we moved to the "country" side when I was 6).

I took off up our street - Powderhorn - on my tricycle. Knowing I could be spanked for it because Mommalah gave many a warning against ever leaving our yard, but the open road beckoned, so off I went, wearing only my terrycloth bathrobe - truly attire ripe for a pedophile, and sure enough, I wasn't to the edge of our lawn when a car turned down Powderhorn and eventually stopped right by me.

The car door opened and just as I was about to let loose the Banshee howl Mom taught, I recognized the woman as my mom's friend and coworker.

She handed me a tissue-wrapped package and said "Happy Birthday!" before getting back in the car and pulling it into our driveway.

Naturally, you know by now that I am obsessed with my birthday so I immediately opened the package and inside was a fabulous stuffed rabbit. He had long ears, even longer legs that were ensconced in his Velcro-ended hands, a felt nose and brown marble eyes. A tag on his hip had "Frederick" emblazoned on it.

He became known to everyone as "Freddy" and I've slept with him ever since.
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He's been on every vacation I've ever been on, to such exotic locales as Long Beach Island, N.J.; Cape Cod; Ocean City, Md.; Tucson, Az., Orlando and St. Petersburg, Fla.; New Orleans; Beaumont, Tx.; Corona, Rancho Cucumonga and San Francisco, Ca., and Niagara Falls and Thousand Islands, Canada.

Being that I just turned 32, I've had my bedmate on the left side of my bed for 29 years now.
The felt nose and Velcro have long since worn off, the tag disintegrated long ago and those eyes are all scratched, but he's still beautiful to me.

Here is a tanka dedicated to him:

Freddy, sweet Freddy
we're bedmates 29 years.
Your nose is long gone,
your fuzz well-worn, your eyes scratched,
you are my childhood beauty.


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Fin.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Who'll stop the rain?

rain Pictures, Images and Photos

While I normally love the sound, the smell and the whole romanticism of rain - how better to feed the "Tortured Writer" persona, I ask? - June 2009 is really getting to be bullshit.

Question: How many days have been sans sans sunshine so far?
Answer: Too many to count.

Aside from the repeated monsoons of this summer so far, I love how great the weather's been because I do so loathe heat-stroke hot summer weather. I've loved sleeping with my fleece tiger cover since the nights are so comfortably cool.

But it is getting pretty hard to fend off the depression that comes with the territory of multiple dark days.

{I feel like I should take up smoking again as I scribble furiously in my journal like some sort of tragic film-noir heroine.
NOIR Pictures, Images and Photos
Or, at the very least, take a Xanax.}

Monday, June 15, 2009

One of Those Days. (Thankfully.)

Did you ever wake knowing today was going to be One of Those Days?
And you dread it, but begrudgingly rally the troops and dive in head first?
And though it was a crazy-busy day, you kept your head about you like Rudyard Kipling says, and it ended up being a really, really good day?
Filled with people (or person) who made you smile, who surprised you, who seemed to get right to the core of you in a really, really good way?

Today was one of those days.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Goodbye birthday week. Can't wait for our 33rd.

I love my birthday.
Anyone who knows me knows this factoid.
Last night, I had a little "drinks n things" get-together with my posse at the River Grille in Plains to celebrate my 32nd year.

The night consisted of three vodka martinis with dinner, anywhere from 7-10 vodka and 7-Ups and a tequila shot.

{I don't do this often, and being that it was my birthday and all, kindly hush.}

What follows is a verbatim journal entry from this morning, when I was still balls deep in bed spins, vodka breath and without the ability to fully open my eyes.
Enjoy:

"I feel EXACTLY as I deserve this morning. Ugh. Threw up 2x last night when Michael dropped me off - have small urge to do it again. Keep having mini dizzy spells and think contacts still in but can't quite tell. Found ring in kitchen. Maybe there's a unicorn in here somewhere, can't be too sure. 10:01 a.m."

Ahh.
At least I had one hell of a Bridget Jones-esque send off for my birthday week, even if I did have to pay for it a little bit.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Happy List for Saturday June 13, 2009

10 things that make me happy on this very day:

1. Getting $100 worth of clothes for $53 at JCPenney, thanks to thrifty coupons and a nice salesperson who let me use three of said thrifty coupons.
2. Spending $52 at Old Navy and only having to pay $2 because I had a gift certificate.
3. knowing that I will be with good friends tonight to bring birthday week to a hopefully debauched close.
4. Having three gorgeous dresses to choose from for said debauched close.
5. Getting a surprise phone call from one of my favorite people on earth.
6. Having my headache go away at last.
7. Buying two new pair of flip-flops. A girl can never have enough, despite running seriously out of space for shoe storage.
8. Sirius Hair Nation. DEVIL HORNS!
9. Finally learning how to use chopsticks. Even with rice!
10. Watching/smelling/hearing a storm come in quickly, and leave.
(as of 06.13.09)
Smiley wit the charm bling mouth Pictures, Images and Photos

Thursday, June 11, 2009

A post-birthday Happy List.

10 things that make me happy:

1. My birthday.
2. Talking, laughing and bonding with Mommalah.
3. Knowing I’m loved. A lot.
4. Eating cake not once BUT TWICE!
5. A vodka martini.
6. Another vodka martini.
7. A ridiculously excellent dinner.
8. Yet another vodka martini.
9. My new patent coral stilettos.
10. Still feeling the effects of those vodka martinis the next day. Priceless!
(as of 06.11.09)

{more on birthday goodness to follow}

Saturday, June 6, 2009

Lunch date with HS BFF.

Today, I'm going to meet my high school best friend for lunch.

I don't think we've seen each other for about 11 years, and I'm looking so forward to it because we always had so much fun - and got in so much trouble.
Her nickname was "Dee" and Mommalah was convinced it stood for "Demon."
Naturally, we're both bringing along a slew of photos to reminisce.

I just hope we don't get kicked out of the restaurant for laughing like we got kicked indefinitely out of chem class junior year ...

Friday, June 5, 2009

I say "hoagie," you say "hero" - let's just say you're wrong!

I am appalled that the word "hoagie" in my previous post came up as an misspelled word when I spell checked.

It got me to thinking about when I worked in telecommunications and dealt with a lot of different internal-company people from across the country: New York, Boston, San Fran, L.A. and D.C. and how differently we called things.

For instance:
- Some of those people call my "hoagie" a "hero." Or a "grinder." Or a "sub."
(Other names across the country: Poor or Po' boy. Wedge. Zeppelin - the latter IS pretty awesome, actually.)
Hoagie Sandwich Pictures, Images and Photos
- Some call my "wimpies" "Sloppy Joes." Or "Manwich" - even if it didn't come out of a can!
(Other names across the country: Yip Yips. Slushburgers.)
Sloppy Joes Pictures, Images and Photos

- In my lovely state of Pennsylvania, we call them "liquor stores" or, if you're prim and proper as I sometimes pretend to be, "state stores." Massachusetts people call them "package stores."
(While in Springfield, Mass., on business, I actually saw for myself the sign that said "Package Store" above the door. Insanity!)
(Other names across the country: ABC Store.)

liquor store sign Pictures, Images and Photos
What do you call these things, wherever you are?

Off the wagon yet again.

Well, here I am with my tail betwixt my legs again.
Not that I - or anyone for that matter - should be surprised, given my track record.

After a gorging during Sunday Family Dinner, I vowed to make this week THE WEEK.
To do my Air Climber to my utmost capacity, to do yoga/Pilates and eat nothing but healthy food and, most importantly, to lost at least five pounds before my birthday next week.

Instead, I found myself gorging, for absolutely no reason at all.
I got sick with a 24-hour bug on Tuesday and Wednesday, so that took me down for the count. No excuse I know, but just sayin'.

Take today for example:
- breakfast sandwich from Dunkin Donuts - the healthy and delicious egg white one.
- an entire Italian hoagie from Antonio's - always always ALWAYS yummy. (Note: I did not eat the bag of chips for once. Party bonus.)
- A salad with oil and vinegar and just a touch of shredded cheese.
- A Lean Cuisine meal. (4 points worth).

OK - one would think that I negated some of the unhealthy with the healthy and was completely full.

So why, then, did I follow the LC meal up with a bowl of Special K?
Because I'm sadistic, or because I like feeling like a sloth as I lay on the couch and half-concentrate on my book while I'm really thinking about how pathetic I am?

Low point.
Clearly.

I'll bounce back.
"Always look on the bright side of life ..."

[the blogger begins to whistle and bob her head as the screen fades to black]