Ramblings on ... by Nikki M. Mascali

In the summer, summer, summertime of 2010 or, a Happy List Plus Five.

2010-07-06T21:08:00.007-04:00

Summer's flying by so damn fast - how is it July already?
{But I'm not really complaining.}
So far, this has been one of the best summers I can remember - full of love, full of friends and full of transitions.

Here's just a few things that are making me smile in this "summer, summer, summertime."

- Quoting the only Will Smith song I like (see above line, and the title of this blog).
- Air conditioning.
- Boneyard on Sirius.
- Fantastic daytrips.
- Deck parties with friends.
- Walking after the sun goes down.
- Blasting my newly declared summer soundtrack, The New Pornographer's "Together" nonstop.
- Ice cream. Often.
- Hot dogs. Often.
- Concerts, concerts, concerts.
- Endless sunshine.
- Going over to the dark side as an iPod user.
- Happy days.
- Happy nights.
- And of course my favorite footwear:

Phlog from Jim Thorpe

2010-06-17T19:49:00.004-04:00

One of my favorite nooks in Northeastern Pa. is Jim Thorpe.
I've written about "America's Little Switzerland" before , and every time I go back it seems as if there's something new to discover.

This trip, which I made last Friday as part of my Birthday Extravaganza, I seemed to discover a penchant for taking pictures of flowers and trying on vintage hats.

Without further ado ...

{Aside from the hat pics, I think this one's my favorite. I just love the colors and textures.}

{This was such a Dorothy Parker hat - I loved it!}

{A view of the gorgeous Packer Mansion from Molly Maguires.}

{View of the Packer Mansion and Jim Thorpe from Flagstaff.}

Learn more about Jim Thorpe for yourself by clicking here

Fin.

For cake's sake - my interview with Buddy Valastro, the Cake Boss

2010-06-17T19:31:00.003-04:00

Cake is one of my favorite things in the world.
What's not to love about a perfect slice of cake smothered in a creamy butter cream?

It was with great pleasure I recently interviewed Buddy Valastro from TLC's hit show "Cake Boss" for this week's Weekender. I love the show so much, partly because Buddy and his family remind me so much of my Italian family, but also because I'm always fascinated how he can make such amazing cakes out of, well, cake. My favorite one by far is his Leaning Tower of Pisa cake he made for a wedding. It was absolutely stunning.

Read the interview here, and enjoy these three pictures of cake. Glorious, locally made cakes I recently had for my 33rd birthday.

{The fish-shaped cupcake cake from my coworkers.}

{The cake from my parents, it's a marble-cake purse with a red velvet hatbox, red velvet, of course, being my most favorite cake in the world. The "flowers" on the left are actually cupcakes, and there was a cake slicer in the shape of a shoe!}

{Side view, it's precious, yes?}

I am no longer this person ...

2010-06-05T17:51:00.002-04:00

Nope - I FINALLY got high speed!!
I'm completely enthralled by it - and am going around saying "Do you know what you can do on the Internet?" in complete fascination.

Never mind that the reply is usually "Welcome to 2004, Nikki."
Oh well, better late than never, right?

Books of 2010: "When You Are Engulfed In Flames"

2010-06-04T17:58:00.004-04:00

A few days back, I was perusing the fella's bookshelf and came across David Sedaris' "When You Are Engulfed In Flames."

I picked it up, briefly leafed through it and immediately fell in love.
There are so many things to love about Sedaris:
- His wit.
- How utterly ridiculously brilliant he is.
- How honest - and neurotic - he is.

I have never laughed out loud to any book like I did reading this one.
From his catheter-like Stadium Pal, to his fascination with a spider he named April to - unbeknownst to her - racing an overweight woman with Down syndrome in his community pool, Sedaris is all sorts of wrong, which really means he's all sorts of fabulous and all sorts of fun.

I was so disappointed when I read the last page, but luckily, a friend is letting me borrow "Barrel Fever," which I immediately started reading.

While not as funny yet as "When You Are Engulfed In Flames," it's still brilliant.
I can't believe it took me this long to discover this author!

Big weekend looms!

2010-05-21T13:23:00.004-04:00

It's gorgeous here in Northeastern Pa.
Summer's looming.
Flowers are blooming.
And I've got a big big big weekend ahead of me.

The fella and I are driving out to Long Island to Meet His Parents.
We're going to eat seafood, play mini golf (or "putt-putt" as I like to say), hit the beach and a bunch of other things I am super excited about.

But the most exciting thing of all is meeting the people who shaped him into the guy I've been waiting my whole life to find.

{I just love love love this photo from findstuff22, don't you?}

Feeling French.

2010-05-11T18:11:00.002-04:00

The fella and I had a very European evening last night.
We got a nice, fresh loaf of French bread, a chilled bottle of lovely, locally made white wine, a bowl of black olives, a tasty brick of pungent, Parmesan-like cheese, some soppressata and a little cheese tortellini with meat sauce.

It was a truly lovely meal, and another great date night.
Even though I wish we were both wearing berets.
{Though that didn't stop me from saying repeatedly my few known phrases from French 101 ... }

Return of T(N)NR?

2010-05-06T12:36:00.003-04:00

I'm feeling pretty darn proud of myself this week, and here's why, courtesy of my workout log:

MONDAY
- 20 minutes on the Air Climber
- 100 crunches
- 50 side crunches.
- a 1-mile evening walk
{never you mind the latter was after the fella and I ate leftover Frog Pond pizza and wings.}

WEDNESDAY
- 2.5 mile walk with one interval
{two telephone pole lengths, not impressive, but baby steps, people!}
- 100 crunches
- 50 side crunches
- 50 lunges
- 50 squats.
{All were done before 7:30 a.m., and my legs are still pissed at me!}

TODAY
Did my most-hated circuit from Fit magazine:
- 20 push ups
- 20 crunches
- 20 squats
- 20 lunges
- 20 side leg lifts.
{no resting in between. Waa!}
- 6-move yoga routine from SHAPE magazine.
{it makes me feel so damn powerful afterward!}

This was the most exercise I've done in weeks, and I daresay I really missed it.
{Now I wish I could just do that move pictured above without killing myself!}

On salt and milk.

2010-05-03T18:19:00.005-04:00

I hate milk almost as much as I love salt.
If I never had to drink milk again, I wouldn't.
If I could have a salt lick without being considered a freak, I totally would.
In fact, said salt lick would be like my beloved mint ChapStick - always within an arm's reach in every room of my house, in my purse, at work, etc etc.
I would love to go to that roadside attraction building made out of salt.
{Google it. You'll see. And you'll see you can actually lick the building!}

Milk, on the other hand, is pushed to the back of my fridge where I stare at it disdainfully save for when I have my bowl of cereal every other morning
{I alternate cereal, usually fake Cheerios, with an egg-white omelet.}

I've always hated milk, ever since I was a kid.
It bothers my stomach, and the taste and smell really make me cringe. But I force myself to put extra with my cereal and never let myself throw out what's leftover in the bowl.
{A girl needs her calcium you know.}

For the past two weeks, I've not added salt to anything I've eaten.
I just decided one day to break up with added salt.
This is a major step for me - I seriously would put salt on salt if I could.

So now that it's second nature to not reach for the white shaker, I needed another challenge for myself, and it is as follows:

Finish my half-gallon of milk.
Every week.
Every single week from here on out.
I always throw a lot of it away on the expiration date
{I am very OCD about the dates on dairy products}
but going forward, beginning with the half gallon I have now, it will be emptied by ingestion.
{I hope I can do it without retching.}

"I want to know what love is."

2010-04-27T18:12:00.004-04:00

The title of this blog is also the title of my favorite song from one of my favorite bands, Foreigner.
I remember hearing it as a youngster, how it swept me away, especially in its chorus:

"I wanna know what love is/ I want you to show me/ I wanna feel what love is/ I know you can show me."

and then there's this tasty stanza:

"In my life, there's been heartache and pain/ I don't know if I can face it again/ I can't stop now, I've traveled so far/ To change this lonely life."

Even during the handful of serious relationships I've had in my nearly 33 years, I still wanted to know what love is, which probably means I hadn't found the truest form of love, huh?

So what is love, exactly?
My Random House Webster's College Dictionary defines it as:

"a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person, esp. when based on sexual attraction. a feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection. a person toward whom love is felt. a love affair. affectionate concern for the well-being of others," etc, etc

Yeah, that really clears it up - not.

I think I'm ready to start defining love - my way.
- It's the way he looks at me.
- It's the way he holds my hand as he's driving, or I reach for his when I am.
- It's being so excited to see each other - every time we see each other.
- It's the way we're there for each other: to vent, to listen, to take care of, to be a sounding board.
- It's the way we make each other laugh.
- It's the way I feel when I'm near him, when I'm laying in his arms, when I'm looking into his eyes.
- It's hearing him tell me I'm beautiful, even when I don't feel it.
- It's him telling me how cute I am when I'm in my retched "Nikki-is-cranky-because-she's-hungry" mood.
- It's the smile I can't wipe off my face when I'm near him, talking to him or thinking about him.
- It's a million things that aren't going to make this list because there's not enough time or space on the Internet.
- It's hearing him say he loves me and having my heart swell every time.
- It's saying those three words and have them mean exactly what they're supposed to mean - for the very first time in my life.

Love isn't something that can be defined in a big old dictionary.
Love is a definition you come up with on your own - and it only took me 33 years to figure that out.

One thing I'm not good at.

2010-04-26T17:05:00.003-04:00

- Patience.

Books of 2010: "I Am Ozzy."

2010-04-20T17:11:00.003-04:00

You may know Ozzy Osbourne for being Black Sabbath’s original vocalist, or maybe you know him from his successful solo career. Or perhaps your first thought is of him as one of the stars of the massively popular MTV reality show “The Osbournes.” But now people can know Osbourne as an author, thanks to his New York Times bestselling autobiography “I Am Ozzy.”

Co-written with Chris Ayres, “I Am Ozzy” recounts Osbourne’s life from his humble beginnings in Aston, England, to rock superstardom with and without Black Sabbath — and everything in between.

It was while working in a factory in Aston, and hating it, that Osbourne first heard The Beatles, and “a light went on in my head.” If those working-class kids could be in a band, “then maybe I could, too.”

Osbourne soon put up an ad in a record shop which led him to his Black Sabbath bandmates Tony Iommi, Geezer Butler and Bill Ward. The foursome eventually went on to become one of the most significant heavy metal bands ever, selling more than 15 million records in the United States alone until Osbourne’s firing in 1979 for his drinking, drug use and “slagging off the band in the press.”

“I’m a lunatic by nature,” Osbourne writes, and readers get to see just how true that statement is. The singer has done just about every drug under the sun — including when he drugged himself with Rohypnol, the date-rape drug, while on tour in Germany: “F--k me, this stuff is real! … Then I was trapped between the bed and the wall, unable to move or talk, for about five hours. So I can’t say I recommend it.”

Anyone who’s watched “The Osbournes” knows Osbourne was often incoherent and indecipherable, but that’s only added to the Prince of Darkness’ charm, a charm that’s carried over into the book full of rambling storytelling. It’s also chockablock of delicious British words and phrases, like “bee up his arse” to describe someone who’s upset.

Obviously, it’s easy to wonder just how much of his life the perpetual alcoholic/addict actually does remember, but a disclaimer in the beginning of the book sums it up best: “Other people’s memories of the stuff in this book might not be the same as mine. … What you read here is what dribbled out of the jelly I call my brain when I asked it for my life story. Nothing more, nothing less.” The tone is distinctly “Ozzy” and oftentimes laugh-out-loud funny — and oftentimes shocking. Forget Osbourne biting the head off a bat and a dove or relieving himself on The Alamo; they’re just the half of it. There’s the tragic plane crash that killed his guitarist Randy Rhoads, Osbourne’s attempted murder of his wife Sharon, scaring his children with drunken/doped-up antics, killing a whole flock of chickens, and so on.

While not as riveting a read as other rockers’ tomes, like Nikki Sixx’s “The Heroin Diaries,” “I Am Ozzy” is an amusing tale of the singer’s life of debauchery that he somehow miraculously survived, how Sharon ultimately saved his career — and saved him from himself, or tried to at least — and how he became a household name again to become “no longer famous for being a singer. I was famous for being that swearing bloke on the telly.”

Rating: W W W 1/2 (of 5 Ws)

* This review originally appeared in the Wednesday, March 17 issue of the Weekender with the headline "The madman writes"*

Let's play catch up, shall we?

2010-04-18T20:55:00.001-04:00

OK, it's not that I've been all slacker with blogging.

Yes, life has been full and rich and fantastic (knock wood) the past month and a half since I last wrote, but most of it is because I still have not called for high speed Internet, and my computer is a persnickety little bitch sometimes that just refuses to let me onto to Blogger.

And I hate it and curse at it and come thisclose to hitting it with a hammer, but then, there are times like tonight when I actually had a rare burst of patience and it loads up just fine because I give it the time it needs to load because I'm doing Other Things Around the House.

It's win-win for both of us methinks.

Now let's bring Ramblings On up to speed:
- I'm still working two jobs, and while I enjoy the extra stipend, it's a pretty exhausting life I'm living, but I'm making it work. Or at least trying to.
{Pray that my dad wins the lotto one of these weeks, OK? Thanks.}

- I'm still struggling with the diet and exercise. It's hard dating a fellow foodie, but I'm happy, incandescently, stupidly happy with the boyfriend, so I take that, too, as a win-win. I just have to find that balancing act between the good eats together and the me doing Healthy Things in between. I'm getting there. Slowly but surely.

- We just got back from another romantic trip to New York City, where we walked the streets, saw the Tim Burton exhibit at MoMA (and an installation that included, but is not limited to, naked men humping a mountaintop, woman dancing in the rain nude and live naked people), ate cupcakes from Magnolia Bakery and CupcakeStop, took in an independent film ("When You're Strange," about The Doors)at the Angelika, shared a Monster Pizza and grew even closer to each other. I'm crazy about this man and I don't care who knows it.

Wow, a month and a half so neatly packaged into two paragraphs? Who knew?

Hope all's been well with you, if you're still out there and can bear with someone who still has dialup. I hope you can, because I feel like I'm getting into a really cool creative place again, so I hope you'll stay along for the ride.

Starve a cold? I think not.

2010-03-05T12:44:00.004-05:00

After having a fantastically romantic time in New York City last weekend, I have been overcome with a terrible cold.
{Yes, I'm super glad the cold didn't show up during said fantastically romantic weekend, but that doesn't mean I want it here now.}

It's derailed my diet and derailed The (New) New Regime because the very thought of Air Climbing with a chest cold and stuffy head makes me want to get back in bed even more.

I ate Chinese take out three days this week - and enjoyed every damn bite I'll have you know - but when I got on the scale this morning, I saw that the number crept up a tiny bit which makes me sick ... well, sicker.

For the first time since starting T(N)NR, I've wanted to binge eat because I just want to feed the hell out of this cold to make it go away.

Looks like I've succeeded, except the cold is still here.
Balls!

Phlog from Pittsburgh trip, and other news.

2010-02-25T13:05:00.006-05:00

It's been ages since I last blogged, and for that I'm sorry.

Since I last wrote, I:
- have lost - and kept off - a total of 10 lbs. since the beginning of January
- received a dozen red roses for Valentine's Day (for the very first time in my 32.5 years!)
- took a weekend jaunt to visit friends in Pittsburgh
- was declared a girlfriend. :)

My trip to the 'burgh was my first full weekend off since Halloween, and I so desperately needed it. I'm happy to report that there was a ton of booze, food and friendship from the whirlwind Friday-night-to-Sunday-morning trip - and I maintained my weight! In fact, I ate whatever the hell I wanted, but knew when to call it quits.
{Naturally, I am quite proud of myself!}

Following are some photos from the trip. It's been a while since I've done a phlog!

Self portrait en route.

Pretty Pennsylvania landscape whizzing by.

Blue skies all the way across the Keystone State!

I was fascinated by this teeny, tiny toilet in the handicapped stall at the Altoona Sheetz!
{By "fascinated," I totally mean I wanted to use it!}

More Pa. landscape, but there's a train track up on that there mountain!

Told you!

A dilapidated Hungarian restaurant just inside city limits.

"Because you deserved better than hotel soap."

Now that's what I call a welcome basket!

First highballs of the weekend!

... and in plastic cups!

Our first brews at the amazing Church Brew Works (read all about it here:)

The absolutely fabulous ones.

Me and Tiff - who I hadn't seen since her Oct. 17 wedding!!

The most amazing fish sandwich ever! I talked about it all damn weekend!

In front of the tanks at Hofbräuhaus Pittsburgh - they did not let us put straws in, though we did try, Lord, we tried!

Taaa daaa!

Like booze, documentation is a form of preservation!

This is where the team that won SIX Super Bowl rings plays!!

Even closer to the Steelers' field!

Frolicking among Andy Warhol's "Silver Clouds." (Learn about his museum here)

Tiff in the clouds.

Johnny in the clouds, or my "avant-garde photo."

Andy!

We're always up to no good!

On the bridge outside the Grand Concourse.

Snowy tracks.

Goth of the North, Nanook's long-lost sister.

In trying to hide the fact I was eating ice cream before a photo, I tried to hide the cup inside my coat, which caused ice cream to get all over my coat and sweater.
{In case you're wondering, it was Hershey's cake batter ice cream.}

See, you can't even tell I housed ice cream directly prior to this photo!!

The PGH skyline at sunset.

Ceiling inside the Grand Concourse.

Our wares from the Warhol: Johnny's are the soup cans; I have Jackie and the Andy quote: "I wonder if it's possible to have a love affair that lasts forever."

Fin.

Happy Valentine's Day, friendos!

2010-02-13T10:23:00.004-05:00

You know when, in a relationship that's in its infancy, you feel lit from within again for the first time in a long time?
Where you can't wait for your phone to buzz, for the doorbell to ring, for your next time together?

I'm in that phase right now, and it feels really good.
Like it's supposed to be.
He's chivalrous, kind, compassionate, just as affectionate as I am, hilarious as all get out, worldly and I daresay the first real man I've dated.

On this Valentine's Day eve, I wish you much love and affection - whether you're single or married, believe in Valentine's Day or not.

Thanks for reading Ramblings On.

YES I AM!

2010-02-10T15:35:00.000-05:00

Guess who right this very second is wearing THE jeans??

The jeans that were her favorite?
The jeans she hasn't worn in YEARS?
The jeans that fit PERFECTLY?

If you haven't guessed, it's ME ME ME ME!

Cheater, cheater.

2010-02-07T12:28:00.007-05:00

I'm down another three pounds, which brings my total loss since the beginning of January to nine - and FINALLY taking me out of the same group of ten pounds that I've been in for the last three years!!
PLUS I did 40 minutes on the Air Climber today!
SUCCESS!!

However, the way I found that out today kind of makes me feel like a cheater.
Instead of weighing myself on Monday, as is always my custom, I weighed myself today.
Not because I intend to gorge myself at a post-work Super Bowl party this evening, but because I do plan on eating at said party.

Let me explain.
I get out of work at 7 p.m. on Sundays, which I find pretty late to be sitting down for a meal, but I do because there's really no time to eat at work. During the week, I have my daily Skinny Cow ice cream sandwich between 7-8 p.m. because I mentally Close the Kitchen immediately following dinner.

I just know that by the time I get to the party and have a few healthy nibbles - fingers crossed I steer clear of my arch nemesis chips and dip - it will be well past 8 p.m.

And weighing myself tomorrow will only get me down because I know it wouldn't really be a true number. Does that make sense or am I a retched no-good cheater of my diet system?

If the latter, if I promise never to do this again, am I still a bad person?

In other diet confession news, I went to a fantastic pizza/wing place, Frog Pond in Wilkes-Barre, Friday night.
{check out its Web site here: Frog Pond}
I indulged in two cuts of Sicilian and five wings, which I never had before and which were amazing. I didn't feel guilty one bit because I knew I had been good all day because I had saved my points. I hadn't had the pizza in eons, it used to be a Tuesday night tradition at the Weekender many moons ago, one in which I'd house about half a tray by myself.

The next day, I had two leftover cuts - which quickly turned into two more (they're cut into really small squares I swear).
Suddenly, as I mindlessly ate cut No. 4 in like 30 seconds, I envisioned a flashing "Danger Danger" sign. Having five cuts remaining still in the fridge, I did the only thing I could do.

I looked at them longingly for a second before I dumped them out of the box into the garbage. Drastic measures, but a necessary measure. I'm glad I was able to enjoy them when they were fresh and oozy with cheese and as cold leftovers, but I wasn't doing myself any favors having them in my fridge.

Have you ever resorted to such a tactic to save yourself from temptation?

Coming up sunflowers ...

2010-02-06T11:38:00.002-05:00

This picture kind of captures how I've been feeling the last two weeks.

While I adore roses, like any good girl does, sunflowers have always been my favorite flower. They're just so sunny and happy and hopeful.
Three things I've been feeling lately.
It's a good feeling.
{A really good feeling.}

January success!

2010-02-01T19:19:00.003-05:00

Well, I'm happy to report that I am down a grand total of six pounds for January!

I was hoping for more, naturally, but I think the most important thing is that I did everything at my own pace, made it fun for me and finally, finally, finally did it right.

So right it's what has always been, for me, that elusive Lifestyle Change.

If I keep up the good work for February as I damn well plan on, I'll be where I want to be by Easter at the latest!

And then it'll be spring and walking after work and in the morning and and and!

One month down, a lifetime to go!

2010-01-31T16:55:00.003-05:00

Let's take a look back, shall we, to my first Ramblings On for 2010, when I waxed philosophical about the year gone by and made my annual resolution list.

They were as follows:

1. To strive to be kinder, gentler and less stressed, to go with the flow, where the wind takes me, etc, etc ...
2. To be healthier, in food intake and exercise output.
3. To continue squirrelling away savings.
4. To write something every day for me, be it in journal, a haiku or tanka, blog or working on novel(s).
(I might even be so bold as to break out a creative writing book that has prompts for every day of the year!)
5. To keep a better, more organized household.
{Read the full blog here.}

Let's see how I made out on this 31st day of January:

1. I've really detached myself from a lot of things that used to piss me off. That's not to say that I don't still seethe, but instead of lashing out (too much) or binge eating, I exercise. I take a deep breath. I move on.
2. I have never, ever, felt better than I have this past month. Health wise and head wise. I chalk it up to really, really, REALLY sticking to a plan no matter what. My clothes are getting baggy, I look forward to the alarm going off (most) mornings to exercise. I am happy to report that, since starting The (New) New Regime on Sunday, Jan. 3, I've exercised all but four days (Saturdays, because of my schedule at the tanning salon, and I don't mind - see No. 2). I am so immensely proud of that fact.
3. Still squirreling!
4. This is monumental for me: Of January's 31 days, I only missed one day of writing for myself. One day. I would go weeks without writing a poem or working on my novel(s) and days without journaling. It's been cathartic, wonderful and inspirational. I can't believe I didn't do this before.
5. This is getting there ... slowly.

All in all, I am pretty damn happy with myself so far in 2010.
Life is brightening up by the minute, and I find that quite exciting.
I chalk it up to finally getting myself happy with myself.

How are you faring so far?

No blue hair here, just blue-hair hours.

2010-01-30T10:00:00.004-05:00

I have been burning the midnight oil this week, and I not-so-secretly love it.
{Though I did conk out last night - Friday night - at an embarrassingly old-lady-like time. I don't even care if you scoff!}

It's been worth it, because I've been having some really, really great marathon conversations.

In other news, I can't wait to write tomorrow to give my progress with The (New) New Regime! The Lifestyle Change has seriously been made!

Ladies who lunch.

2010-01-23T11:55:00.006-05:00

I had such a crazy busy, yet delightfully fun week this week.
I daresay I wasn't home but to sleep, something that usually makes me a bear, but I loved every second of it.

The week was capped off with a day off where I took a delicious little daytrip to Jim Thorpe with Adrianna, my best gal pal from college.

If you've never been to Jim Thorpe, you are missing out.
It is the quaintest, prettiest little town in Northeastern Pennsylvania I've ever seen. (Click here for info: http://www.jimthorpe.org)

There's tons of little shops, a few restaurants (I highly suggest the pork quesadilla at Mollie Maguires Pub) and lots of gorgeous historic buildings.

They call the town "America's Little Switzerland."
{Don't quite know who "they" are, but they are so right!}

We had such a great day being Ladies Who Lunch, Shop and Wine Taste ... and try on hats fit for old ladies.
{Yes, I will be uploading pictures soon!}

I got a bottle of tasty, locally made wine, four gorgeous green glass pieces to add to my collection, earrings, a surprise for Mommalah and treated myself to three pieces of chocolate that I savored the whole way home.
{Never you mind that they were gone before I even went 10 miles on the turnpike!}

It is so refreshing to know that Adrianna and I still have just as much fun as we always did way back when. After reconnecting for the first time last month, we decided to do a monthly Girls Get Together. Next month, we're thinking about a spa day, which excites the hell out of me because I've never had a complete spa experience.

Not only is it great to rekindle a great friendship, but it's also a great way to give myself a non-food reward for being such a stickler on The (New) New Regime.

Pretty sneaky, huh sis?

A pearl of wisom was supposed to be in this spot.

2010-01-19T19:57:00.005-05:00

I had all these ideas of things I wanted to blog about - things not related to diet and exercise for once - and as I stared at the black canvas in front of me, my mind just went completely and utterly blank.

Naturally this would be the first time in eons Blogger loaded* right quick for me and here I am with egg on my face.**

Oh well.
Some days you step in it, some days you don't.***

*You'll recall, I'm sure, that I still have dial-up, which is going to change within the next two weeks because I almost had an aneurysm of rage Sunday morning when I tried to blog. I need to get with the rest of the millennium already methinks.
**I love this saying and have no idea how it even started (and God forbid I try to open another window to Google it. My question is Why egg? Why not pudding? Ketchup, which seems so much more normal? Egg makes me think of an egg salad sandwich which makes me vomit a little bit in my mouth, even though I adore eggs. Egg salad. Eww.
***My evil grandmother had a magnet that said this, and it had a cartoon of a cow that stepped into a metal milking bucket. Anecdote has ended.

When does a resolution become a lifestyle change?

2010-01-17T13:34:00.004-05:00

I'm two weeks in on The (New) New Regime, and I'm still going strong!!
I've exercised 13 of the 15 days that have passed since I began on Sunday, Jan. 3.
Some of those days were nothing more than 15 minutes on the Air Climber, some I did dozens of squats, lunges and abs, some I even worked out in the morning and evening.

I know T(N)NR is still in it's infancy - it's only been two weeks for heaven's sake - but I can't help but wonder:
When does a resolution become a lifestyle change?

Is in when you're excited about getting up in the morning to exercise?
Is it when you restructure your day to include some sort of movement, whatever you can do because it all counts?
Is it when you stop stuffing yourself when you eat, even if you're still a little hungry?
Is it when you mentally put the "Closed" sign on the kitchen?
Is it when you automatically seek out healthful items on a menu instead of going for what you really could go for?

Whenever a resolution becomes such a change, I'm ready for it.
Finally.

If you struggle to make those changes you vowed to do two weeks ago - which seems like a lifetime ago, doesn't it? - here are some things that I found are really getting me closer to the lifestyle change:

- Every night, I put my workout clothes at the end of the bed so they're already at the ready for my morning workout.
- I set my alarm for super early so if I hit snooze like I usually do, I still have more than enough time to get some sort of movement in.
{Being a night owl/insomniac like I am, this sometimes sucks, but I try to have lights out by 11 p.m. during the week.}
- I keep a food diary religiously. More importantly, I keep an honest food diary.
{I'm not helping myself at all if I keep mum about the two links of hot sausage I just popped in my mouth because I was feeling peckish.}
- LOTS AND LOTS OF WATER.
{While I've always loved drinking water, I finally understand how much of a difference drinking the correct amount makes. I'm still hungry a lot of the time, but it's definitely more manageable because of making sure I get at least my eight glasses in.}
- I keep nothing tempting in the house. Nothing.
{For my daily dessert, I've stocked up on Skinny Cow mint ice cream sandwiches, which are horribly expensive but necessary giving my penchant/weakness for chocolate.}
- Moderation, moderation, moderation.
{I finally learned that "diet" isn't "die" with a T. It's something manageable that I can still enjoy everything I love on sometimes, but without stuffing myself sick.}
- Mix it up.
{I'll do my Air Climber most days because it's convenient. Sundays are my walk days, weather permitting, and I clock in 2-3.5 miles, depending on my route. Some mornings I do yoga or Pilates so I don't get bored. Food wise, I generally eat the same things for lunch to keep myself in check (and because I enjoy my "usuals"), and try to have a different dinner each night.}

What works for you?

The klutz strikes - or trips - again.

2010-01-14T17:19:00.004-05:00

While this week has been good (knock wood!), it's been one pickle after another.

For starters, I have a horrendous toothache that's been on-and-off for the last few days. I've never actually had a toothache before, so this kind of pain is new to me (and very uncomfortable).

As if that's not bad enough, yesterday I stopped at a local UPS store to mail something, and as I walked to the counter, I completely biffed and fell flat on my face.

Both leopard-print heels flew off and my purse went flying.
I. Was. Mortified.

The guy behind the counter started freaking out because he thought I killed myself.
{No, I just killed my ego for the entire duration of my transaction.}

By the time I got back to the office, my knee was throbbing so bad, I had to go home to put ice on it.

The silver lining of the whole damn Incident was I got to see a truly amazing hot dog show on The Travel Channel, so it was very nearly almost worth it.

Naturally, I wore flats to work today.
(and naturally, I hated it almost as much as Samson hated getting his hair cut ...)

Addendum to my previous post.

2010-01-11T19:43:00.004-05:00

I am happy to report that when I got dressed this morning, the belt I usually wear with one of my favorite dresses was ...

... wait for it ...

loose!!!!

So much so, in fact, that it kept slipping down throughout the day!

Talk about a Pick Me Upper - and Diet Success!!

Disappointed, trying not to be discouraged.

2010-01-11T07:45:00.004-05:00

I'm trying not to be upset.
Today was my first weigh in since starting The (New) New Regime and after exercising every day but Saturday and eating really, really well and in moderation and some days not even hitting my points allotment I only lost two pounds.

What the [loudly shouted expletive]?

I know I know I know two pounds is a commendable loss.
I know it is a safe per-week loss according to all those reports from doctors I've been reading about in my health magazines all these years, but
that's it?

It's better than a gain, so there's that.

My plan is to continue on the same eating course I've been on, up my exercises - shooting for twice a day if possible - and upping my daily time on the Air Climber, even if I have to get up even earlier to do so.

This is that important to me - and my health.

Plus, like the good Joan Baez said,

"Action is the antidote to despair."

I'm sure the "despair" she speaks of is a lot worse than the "despair" I'm feeling this morning, but I'm sure she'd be glad to know her words came into my e-mail inbox at precisely the right moment.

Books of 2010: "The Thorn Birds"

2010-01-10T17:52:00.004-05:00

I finished my first Book of 2010 tonight.
I reread - probably for the fourth time since discovering it as a young teen on Mommalah's bookshelf - Colleen McCullough's "The Thorn Birds."

This tale of a priest - Father Ralph de Bricassart - who falls in love with Meggie Cleary, who he's known since she was a young girl in the early-1900s Australia is sordid, heartbreaking and one of those books that Takes You There.

The book spans 54 years - 1915-1969 - and three generations of the Cleary clan, and takes place in the continent's sheep country. It's a hard life for Meggie, as the only female aside from her emotionally unavailable mother Fee. Ralph is her one bright spot, her one talisman that keeps her going, even when he leaves her for the priesthood's big show: The Vatican.

Though she marries Luke, a slight doppelganger of Ralph, the real love of her life will always be Ralph, who eventually fathers her beloved son Dane, who goes into the priesthood himself and tragically drowns soon after becoming ordained.
{Luke fathered Justine, the daughter Meggie never got along with.}

McCullough's writing is effortless to read and even though you know the love and attraction between Ralph and Meggie is morally wrong, is true love ever really wrong?

I don't think so.

Especially when the cover image is from the ABC mini-series and features Richard Chamberlain as Ralph and Rachel Ward as Meggie.
{I mean, Richard Chamberlain as Ralph de Bricassart? Who wouldn't?}

The series aired in March 1983 and was the second highest-rated mini-series behind "Roots." I saw parts of it as a teen, but never in its entirety.

Now, of course, I desperately want to rent it, not only to see Richard as Ralph, but to see if the translation from page to screen was a worthy translation because the book is that stellar.

When Ralph and Meggie finally consummate their years of passion, your heart almost bursts for them because, really, is anything really as horrible as unrequited love?

No.
So when they finally are able to act on this love that has built and boiled under the surface, Ralph must leave to go back to Rome, never to be Meggie's again.

There's no happy ending for the two of them. Their passion-filled tryst at a beach side cabin is to be enough, no matter the pain that follows.

The book is brilliantly named after a mythical bird which is said to search from the moment it cracks through its egg for the perfect thorn to impale itself. Just before it dies, it sings the sweetest, most beautiful song.

"... One superlative song, existence the price. But the whole world stills to listen, and God in His heaven smiles. For the best is only bought at the cost of great pain ... or so says the legend."

Like that bird, Meggie and Ralph had their one chance to sing their beautiful song, and that was it.

It'd be a horrible book because of how tragic it is ... if it wasn't such an incredible, breathtaking story.

"The Thorn Birds" by Colleen McCullough.
Copyright 1977.
692 pages, paperback.

An angelic dining experience

2010-01-09T14:15:00.004-05:00

Last night, the old folks invited me to dinner at Olive Garden because Papa had a gift card from work.
Naturally, I accepted.
{As I would any one who offers to take me to dinner.}

I was interested to see how I would handle my first non-controlled meal of The (New) New Regime, especially at a place that brings delicious bread sticks repeatedly to your table.

It would have been so easy to go with the stuffed chicken Marsala* Mommalah got because it sounded yummy, or the steak and gorgonzola Alfredo** I've had before, but I wanted to behave so I went with the grilled salmon and broccoli.

I had soup as an appetizer and
did
not
have
one
bread stick.

Not. A. One!

Can you see my halo?
I can!

*A whopping 32 Weight Watcher points!!
**I was afraid to check the points value in fear of heart attack

The New Regime: Lunges are bastards.

2010-01-07T19:40:00.005-05:00

Today's exercise challenge was to do 50 squats and 50 lunges.

I hate hate hate lunges.
My legs hate hate hate lunges.
I think everyone hates hates hates lunges, too.
{And if they don't they're probably bastards, too. Ever-so-sweetly just sayin'.}

In the morning, I did half the squats before Air Climbing and half after, forgetting about the lunges until I read my e-mail after exercising.

About halfway through the day, I got excited to come home and exercise, and then quickly wondered what the hell I was becoming.

I got home and though it was really, really tempting to white flag the evening's exercise because I was famished, I put on my workout clothes and did those damn lunges and Air Climbed again.

Plus, because my short-term memory forgot that we got the 50 squats out of the way this morning, I did 50 more, bring today's squat grand total to 100.
{And who says writers aren't good with math?}

I sent a whiny text to Tiffany saying that her [expletive] lunges will - paraphrasing - never be welcome in my home again, she replied with a previous blog's main point:

No pain,
no gain.

Hmmph. Tell that to my quivering legs!
{But I admit I am feeling pretty bad ass, like I could almost deliver a Sparta kick to somebody's chest ... almost ...}

The New Regime: Challenge No. 2? MET!

2010-01-06T17:29:00.003-05:00

I am extremely happy to report that I survived my 100 required sit ups this morning!!

In fact, they were completed before 7:30 a.m.!
I did 50 before and 50 after Air Climbing, and though it did get rough at the end, I pushed through it.

I felt so accomplished and honestly, I carried myself a little taller today because I felt good about myself.

When I looked in the mirror this morning, I already saw what a difference a few days of being mindful of my eating and actually working out made.

I'm finally chiseling away to the Nikki that's been hidden under all this extra baggage for so long.

But instead of using a hammer to pick at it, I'm going all jackhammer on its ass.

And that's kind of my favorite part.

A challenge has been issued.

2010-01-05T21:54:00.003-05:00

First, I'd like to let you know that I'm still calling my current diet and exercise goals The New Regime because:

No. 1: I plain just like the name.
No. 2: I've already created a tag for it.

Now that that's been cleared up, my dear friend Tiffany - who I've written about here before and who has always been my "thinspiration" - and I are trying to keep ourselves on track together, despite me living here in NEPA and she out in Pittsburgh.

We are going to do daily calls, e-mails or texts to each other to motivate ourselves and hold ourselves accountable.

One of our goals is to take part in the inaugural Red Cross 5K in March.

Tiff decided today that we need to issue ourselves little challenges to keep us constantly on our toes.

Today's was easy: Drink eight glasses of water.
It's something I do pretty much every day because I love water, so wasn't too much of a stretch for me.

However, that doesn't mean I didn't feel the benefits of really making sure I got my eight in.

I am usually starving beyond belief by the time noon rolls around (and I eat a well-balanced breakfast every day), but today, because I was mindful of continually sipping my water bottle, I ate an hour and a half later because - I can't believe I'm even typing this - I wasn't hungry.

Say what? I'll say it again:
I. Wasn't. Hungry.

Since we both did swimmingly on our challenge, we decided to keep it up tomorrow, and then Tiffany added this wrench: Plus do 100 sit ups.

Are you serious?
I'll die.
I can barely do 40 when I "work abs" without wanting to cry or stop from the sharp, searing pain of working a muscle that is buried under years of bad, bad, bad food!

But I accepted the challenge with determination.

No guts, no glory.
No pain, no gain.

Isn't that what Under Armour-clad gym rats and girls who can wear a sports bra as a top at the gym say?

Do you think I can do it tomorrow?
Stay tuned!

Introducing the 'Books of 2010' segment.

2010-01-05T17:43:00.005-05:00

Last night, as I nestled all snug in my Snuggie whilst rereading "The Thorn Birds," I decided I wanted to keep a running tally of the books I've read in the course of the coming 12 months.

I'm calling it, quite whimsically, the "Books of 2010" segment.
{What can I say? My creativity level was pretty high when I came up with it.}

I've always been an avid reader, but sadly, my book reading has been relegated to a few minutes before bed to relax me from my often hectic days. I've also been playing catch up with a bunch of magazines too, which I do also love, but kind of makes my book worm feel kind of dirty.

I would like to change that, broaden my reading horizons - as soon as I finish this tragic, saucy and sordid tale of improper love that makes me swoon.

Plus, it will certainly help me keep my resolution of writing something for me daily if I'm blogging about them! That's called teamwork methinks!

What books do you plan on reading this year, and do you have any recommendations for a fellow book worm?

Eating good is definitely in season.

2010-01-04T18:54:00.004-05:00

I was so excited to grocery shop last night - and not only because Mom gave me a $100 gift card to my grocer, which essentially meant this trip was free.
{Sweet!}

No, I was excited because I was going to buy food - good-for-me food.

I stocked up on a plethora of fruits and vegetables - salad, cucumber, avocados (my serious addiction), oranges, broccoli and red peppers, as well as tofu, Lean Cuisine pepperoni pizzas (my very serious addiction) and Skinny Cow ice cream sandwiches (my very, very serious addiction).
{I am proud to report that I've yet to eat two of said ice cream sandwiches in one day. Keyword is clearly "YET."}

I felt like I was conquering my fridge.
Like I should put up a flag that said, "I stake this land out for only good things that will keep me on track."

I'm going to make guacamole. Tofu fettuccine Alfredo. Steamed veggies with a few sprays of butter and dry ranch dressing.

I'm going to keep buying these fruits and veggies, changing it up a bit so as not to get bored, and I'm going to not only conquer that fridge of mine, but also my obsession with food.

I do, old typewriter, I do!

2010-01-03T20:04:00.003-05:00

Last night, I watched "Starting Out in the Evening," a lovely little film about the relationship between grad student Heather, played intriguingly by Lauren Ambrose, doing her thesis on her favorite author, played by the always amazing Frank Langella.

Langella plays Leonard Schiller, an aging novelist who received accolades early in his career, but now has been struggling with his next book for the past decade. His books are no longer in print and all but forgotten save for Heather.

Leonard sets aside a certain number of hours and days he writes and sticks with them religiously, usually dressed in crisp slacks and button-down shirts (just the way I like my men dressed), and pecks away behind his typewriter.

Long after I watched the movie, I was still haunted by the image of Leonard writing clackity-clack behind an old-school writing utensil such as the typewriter.

I became slightly obsessed with looking at photos on the Interweb of old typewriters today, almost as obsessed as I was with writing.

I've been feeling so inspired to write lately, be it here at Ramblings On, in my journal or in my haiku/tanka notebook. Seeing "Starting Out in the Evening" only fed the fire that needs to come out of my fingers and onto a page.

I wish I could have been one of those literary greats from those days in New York, like Dorothy Parker and her cohorts on the Algonquin Round Table. I'd like to have written, toiled and created behind a rickety typewriter, feeling those round buttons slam against the white pages with words - my words.

I'd like to take that typewriter above, move to a delightful apartment in New York circa the 1920s-1930s and marry it.

We'd live in that apartment together quite happily, I reckon, drinking Manhattans from gold-gilded glassware, maybe smoking ever-so-gracefully from a pearl holder, surrounded by books, books and more books as we wrote and wrote, hoping that someday, an aspiring novelist such as myself would blog about wanting to be like me many, many years later.

Dog-eared resolutions, and others.

2010-01-02T18:57:00.006-05:00

And so another year has come to pass.
2009 was a bitch and a half, but I still thought it was a pretty great year.
I met a lot of amazing people, deepened some relationships - and ended some, interviewed some great people, did some fabulous things and really found out what's important in life:

Enjoying every moment, big or small, happy or sad.

Life is too short to pretend to be happy - you have to be happy.
With yourself, with your choices, with the people you surround yourself with if you ever want to make your pursuit of happiness a reality.

For the first time in all the years I've been journaling my resolutions - if you must know, I've been keeping a journal since 1994 and am currently writing in book No. 20 - I think I've made ones that are finally attainable.

Gone is the lose 25 pounds by the time I'm done writing the resolution list out, gone is the pay off credit cards in the same unattainable time span.

Herewith the official, one-day-old Nikki's 2010 Resolutions:

1. To strive to be kinder, gentler and less stressed, to go with the flow, where the wind takes me, etc, etc ...
2. To be healthier, in food intake and exercise output.
3. To continue squirrelling away savings.
4. To write something every day for me, be it in journal, a haiku or tanka, blog or working on novel(s).
(I might even be so bold as to break out a creative writing book that has prompts for every day of the year!)
5. To keep a better, more organized household.

What do you resolve to do for yourself in 2010?

Words to live by from Miss Marilyn.

2009-12-27T18:00:00.002-05:00

Blessed be.

2009-12-27T17:48:00.003-05:00

And so this is (after) Christmas.

I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas!!
I feel so blessed for having such wonderful people in my life who love me as much as they do.
They are there when the going gets tough and when the going is smooth sailing ... usually with with a well-made Manhattan at the ready!

Can't believe it's almost 2010 - time to start thinking about my resolutions (gulp).
I have a few different ones this year and I'm really looking forward to getting started on them toute de suite!

My Brittany Murphy memory.

2009-12-20T16:39:00.004-05:00

Today, at age 32 - the same age as I am (gulp) - actress Brittany Murphy died of cardiac arrest.

My first and second thoughts were 1. That's terrible (as it always is when someone dies young), and 2. I totally had forgotten about her.

I'd seen her in a few films - "Clueless" being the big one.

My favorite part had always been the big "Rolling With My Homies" scene, especially when Brittany's character Tai did it when she was crushing on Elton played by Jeremy Sisco.

Fin.

On NEPA traffic lights

2009-12-20T16:13:00.003-05:00

I am so thankful I don't live in a place where traffic is really, really bad.
When my brother lived in SoCal, it used to take him two hours to drive a distance that equaled the mileage between Scranton to Wilkes-Barre - every day.

And we all know about my beloved city of New York, where, oddly, I'm a really, really good driver.

So we have it pretty lucky here in NEPA - but that doesn't mean I am still not reeling over the fact it took me 20 minutes to get out of the Wyoming Valley Mall parking lot this afternoon thanks to the lack of turning arrows and the ability for more than three cars to make it through the lights.

As I sat there and seethed, I cursed PennDOT for being so dumb.

... and then I cursed myself for being even more dumb for 1. not finishing my shopping earlier and 2. putting myself at the mall on the Sunday afternoon before Christmas in the first place.

Wilkes-Barre state of mind.

2009-12-18T22:12:00.004-05:00

A week from now, the presents will be open and Christmas Day will soon change into The Day After Christmas.

I am not done shopping and dread going to finish.

Things have been so hectic and busy that I've not had the time to buy the rest of my gifts, and when I have had time, I chose to spend it having fun, like the great party I attended last night at Revere Pictures in downtown Wilkes-Barre, for example.

Is that so wrong?
Will Santa leave me off the good list for taking care of my needing of a fabulous party? I hope not because the party was good for me. I got to hone my rusty mingling skills and, from the seventh floor of a downtown building I'd never been in before, I got to see a Wilkes-Barre I'd never seen before.

I'd driven and walked around Public Square a million times in my lifetime and never did I have such an appreciation for it as I do now after seeing it from seven, and later in the night, 11 stories up.

The way the cars snaked around the Square, white headlights and red taillights offset by its white-lit trees was poetic. I stood in front of a wall of windows and saw the city seemingly for the first time.

It was so moving. So almost metropolitan. So calming. So unlike the things I see when I walk the streets during the day in search of lunch.

And on the other side of the floor, seeing the eagles of the Market Street Bridge, was equally inspiring. Seeing them from such a height highlighted how regal and strong they are.

It was a great evening on so many levels, and the free booze wasn't even at the forefront. It was the conversations, the companionship, the schmoozing, the meeting new people. It was seeing a city I'm often quick to dump on - a lot of times rightly so, mind you (you do read the paper, right?) - in a whole new light: the light of the night.

My mind needs an "Off" button.

2009-12-15T20:17:00.003-05:00

While I've been caught up in the Christmas spirit, I've not been feeling very inspired, hence the lack of Ramblings Ons.

I've made nary a journal entry either, choosing to think instead of write or tap the keyboard.

Or choosing to not think at all, and just revel in those rare thoughtless moments, where I envision my mind to be nothing but a snowy TV screen.

Sometimes I live for those moments.
I find it so hard to shut my mind off - to not only relax sometimes, but just go with the flow, to bob with the ocean's waves.

What do you do to shut your mind off for a night, an hour or even 10 minutes?
Tell me your secret, so I can have more thoughtless moments!

Time to take the plunge.

2009-11-29T20:38:00.003-05:00

I'm not going to lie to you.
I'll just have out with it.

I have dial up.
Yes, I dared say it.
{And if I could whisper-type, I would.}
Dial up.
I'll say it once more for emphasis.
Dial. Up.

I hate it, but I'm such a miser that I honestly don't want to pay for something better even though I so so SO desperately need it.

I need it to make blogging easier.
I need it to "Get With It."
I need it to keep my sanity in tact.

I'm thinking Comcast high speed, and not just because I adore Bill Slowsky commercials. I just already pay Verizon a pirate's ransom and thought I'd spread my debt around.

What are your thoughts on Comcast??

{Speaking of, whatever happened to Mr. Slowsky? Anyone? Anyone?}

Four days in November.

2009-11-29T20:24:00.005-05:00

Here is sit with my big 4-day weekend winding down.
{Waaaaaaaa!!}

I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgorging, I know I did - sans the gorge as planned, which felt good!
{I will have you know I even walked 2.5 miles the morning after at the country haus!}

For the first time in eons, a long weekend was just that - long. Last Wednesday seems like it was a year ago.

I packed a lot into these past four days, and enjoyed well-well-well-deserved time away from the office - and my e-mail which I've often checked over the course of a weekend since having access to it on phone.

I got to spend some time with the parents.
I got to play with my BFF.
I got to bring Christmas to the apartment which, in turn, made me swollen with the Christmas spirit.
{It's such a terrible and fabulous way to describe one's spirit, yes?}
I got to discover Laughing Cow cheese.
{How the hell did I ever live without it?!}
And most importantly:
I got to recharge myself.

Let's go holiday season!
{If only I could make my swollen-with-holiday-spirit self start Christmas shopping!}

Happy Thanks-gorging!

2009-11-26T11:26:00.004-05:00

After taking a brisk 3.5 mile walk today, I vow to not gorge myself at the table today - as I do every year.

I'm not a huge turkey fan, so I usually take seconds - and sometimes thirds - of green bean casserole, sweet potato casserole and Mom's super-delicious homemade mashed potatoes.

I might have two scoops of the cranberry-citrus relish and I sure as hell have a bigger slice of my bourbon chocolate pecan pie topped with my homemade bourbon whipped cream than I should have, but that's all part of the holiday right?

Not this year.
This year, I'm thankful that I'm putting a limit on myself, for my own damn good.

But that's not all I'm thankful for, in fact, that's the least of it.

I'm thankful that my Mom is well - knock wood.

I'm thankful for her more than I could ever express - for being there, for talking me down from the proverbial ledge, for just being her fabulous self and for making the Manhattans we will drink together today and be thankful for each other together.

I'm thankful for the rest of my family - my father, brother and "sister." For always being there, or just a phone call away when I need them most.

I'm thankful for being strong enough to handle what life throws at me, even if I do let it get me down sometimes.

I'm thankful for having legs strong enough to allow me to take the walk I did today, lungs that were able to breathe in the crisp morning and eyes that could see my surroundings.

And most of all I'm thankful I have people and things to be thankful for.

Words to live by.

2009-11-22T21:21:00.004-05:00

The following quotes are taking from the current issue of Glamour magazine. The issue celebrates the magazine's Women of Year. One section had some advice from women - some who've been past Women of the Year, some who were well-known, and all of them strong and inspiring.

These two quotes stuck out at me so much that I couldn't stop reading them, going so far as to cut them out and paste them in my - nerd alert! - Quote Notebook.

They're inspiring words that I think I'll continue to revisit when I need a little picking up and a little Power From Within.

"Cherish your solitude.
Take trains by yourself to places you have never been.
Sleep out alone under the stars.
Learn how to drive a stick shift.
Go so far away that you stop being afraid of not coming back.
Say no when you don't want to do something.
Say yes if your instincts strong, even if everyone around you disagrees.
Decide whether you want to be liked or admired.
Decide if fitting in is more important than finding out what you're doing here. Believe in kissing."
~~ from Eve Ensler's upcoming book "I Am an Emotional Creature"

"In life, sometimes everything falls into place, and sometimes everything just falls to pieces. The key is to begin creating with these fallen pieces. By improvising, you'll create something magical that might be the best thing you've ever accomplished."
~~ Tori Amos

Thanksgivings, early.

2009-11-19T17:40:00.004-05:00

About two weeks ago, I was thinking about how different my life was compared to this time last year.

It was a sad little reflection for me as I recalled how happy I'd been, then, and how hopeful I'd felt about my future.

For the first time in my life, I could almost see that White Picket Fence, even if it was a little imperfect. For the first time in my life, I wanted that imperfect White Picket Fence.

I was so full of love for the first time in a very, very long time.
And it felt good.

As you've probably guess, those feelings and visions are gone - long gone. It was for the best, it really was, but I'm not going to lie and say that when I imagined this time this year last year {got that?}, I thought it would be different.

I'd been carrying around those thoughts, some Woe Is Me stress and burning the candle at both ends when I got some news that made all these things seem as minuscule as broken crayons.

Not that I wanted it, but it was a reality check I so desperately needed.

I needed it to remind me what's really important.
I needed it to make me thankful for what I do have in my life:
- an amazing, strong and beautiful mother who is always there.
- a kind and loving father who would do anything for us.
- a great big brother who is such a sage for me.
- friends who are supportive and caring.

Today, we got the news we were hoping and praying for.
Today, I give thanks for where I am in my life.
I wouldn't trade it for the world, or a thousand white picket fences, perfect, imperfect or otherwise.

Setbacks and stress.

2009-11-15T08:51:00.004-05:00

"Is there life before death?"
~~ Graffito, in Belfast

Now that I'm working two jobs, I've been thinking there's not.

I'm lucky enough to work at two places I very much enjoy - even when the one gets highly stressful and hectic - and I'm really enjoying the extra income.
I've become so miserly, which is something I should have done years ago, but better late than never.

As much as I like that cash and having something that fills my time up, it is pretty exhausting some days, so needless to say, I've been a little on edge lately and feeling pretty stressed.

This week, I had some external stress come at me too.

Mommalah told me some disturbing news last week that's really sent us reeling. I've found myself praying a lot more than usual - and feeling angry, and about thisclose to a panic attack or something. It's scary, and I'm scared to death.

In much, much less important stress, a simple flat tire earlier this week resulted in the needing of a new rim - a new $180 rim ... and then I discovered a bubble on another tire so there's that. Bye, bye last few second job checks.

If things happen in threes as the old adage says, I hope the tire situations count.

The whole week has had me mindlessly emotionally eating. Like, for example, an entire pounder bag of tortilla chips that I ate as nachos in two day's time. I knew I shouldn't have when I bought the damn chips, but short of screaming from the rooftop, I chose to go this route.
{Never mind the container of gorgonzola cheese that somehow disappeared almost as swiftly. I must have a mouse in the house or something.}

I don't know why I do it, why I don't take my deep breaths, or why I don't, oh, EXERCISE to do away with the stress and the worry and the scared feelings like I know I should do.

It just seems easier to eat my worry away, which we know doesn't ever work.
Maybe it's because eating has always been such a big part of my Italian family and I take comfort in it, even though it makes me feel awful.

I consider myself a strong person - my mother's daughter - but the emotional eating and setbacks and getting derailed at even the most minuscule sign of trouble is not the sign of a strong person.

I need to get my strength back. In more ways than one.

A borrowed survey.

2009-11-02T09:12:00.003-05:00

Oh, I haven't done a survey in eons so I thought, "Why not?"

I borrowed this from a favorite blogger The English Muse (see her fabulous blog in the list to the right).

1. Where is your cell phone: Right where it always is: within three inches of my person.
2. Your hair: Freshly blown out just this morning. Never mind that it's in desperate need of a color touch up.
3. Your favorite food: Cake - with buttercream icing.
4. Your dream from last night: I was smoking in the rain with Johnny at his house. His parents and a Times Leader editor and his wife were there and we were trying to be inconspicuous. {I quit smoking New Year's Eve 2007 and had my first cig since then two weeks ago at Tiffany's wedding. With Johnny. He's such a naughty influence, even in dreams it seems!}
5. Your favorite drink: Manhattan.
6. Your dream/goal: To continue writing until my last breath ... and publish my novel(s).
7. What room are you in: My home office. The tree right outside the window has the most gorgeous yellow leaves that look so pretty in the sunlight.
8. What are your hobbies: Reading. Writing. Blogging. Twittering. Journaling. Laughing. Thinking.
9. What is your fear: That something will happen to my family, God forbid.
10. Where do you want to be in 6 years: Still writing. Financially secure. Happy.
11. Where were you last night: Working at my part time job then eating the dinner I made in the Crockpot with Mommalah.
12. Something you are not: Fake. Good or bad, what you see is what you get
13. Muffins: I do love one on occasion.
14. Wish list items: Stability. Health for my family and myself. Happiness. Love.
15. Where did you grow up: near a pond on a gorgeous dirt road in Dallas, Pa.
16. Last thing you did: replied to a text message.
17. What are you wearing: black pinstripe pants, black turtleneck, gray cardigan and black stilettos.
18. Your TV: Is only usually on for "Always Sunny in Philadelphia," "Family Guy" and an occasional vampire movie or food show like "No Reservations" or something having to do with cake.
19. Your pets: I am godmother to the most delicious puppy Kasey, a scrumtrulescent Weimaraner.
20. Your friends: Are few, but fabulous.
21. Your favorite store: Barnes & Noble.
22. Your favorite color: Black. Naturally.

The New Regime: Day 29.

2009-11-02T08:55:00.002-05:00

I am very disappointed.

I got on the scale this morning, after a vigorous 20 minutes on the Air Climber and a grueling mini-circuit I got from WeightWatchers magazine - and after yesterday's huge 2.5 mile walk and the day before that's vigorous Air Climbing, etc.

I lost absolutely nothing.
Nothing.
Even after this morning being the eighth day in a row that I've worked out hardcore.

I know I've not stuck 100 percent to eating healthy, but I ate my bad stuff* in moderation and no scale budge.
Just continued pudge.

I am disappointed - but not discouraged.
This is not going to derail me as it has in the past.

I will get on the scale next week and it will be down.
And if it's not - God forbid - I will look in the mirror and at my exercise log book** and know I'm making changes in myself - and my health.
Even if I can't see it just yet.

*chips, brie, dessert, cake, Halloween candy.
**a Hallmark calendar booklet where I write all my exercises in. I love looking back and seeing something written on nearly all the days, even if it was a brief 10 minutes. Movement is movement. It all counts.

Crockpot update!

2009-11-02T07:58:00.002-05:00

Well the Crockpot chicken recipe turned out
fantastico!

As I blogged yesterday, I was a nervous wreck that I was going to come home to a congealed mess of dinner and chicken that was tough and gross.

Not so!
The only problem was I had added a little bit of water per the Crockpot's booklet for frozen chicken, which created a bit too much juice. But it made for tasty gravy, albeit a little runny gravy, but tasty nonetheless.

I am going to tackle a roast next methinks!

And most importantly, Mommalah was very impressed and I was happy to finally treat her to a good dinner that she didn't have to make, or clean up after.
{Plus I was able to shoo her help away as she always does me. It felt good. And you know what, so did those typical Mommalah-isms that I found coming out of my mouth without a second thought. Guess the old adage
"Mirror, mirror on the wall
I am my mother after all"

is true!}

Let's be friends, Crockpot.

2009-11-01T13:05:00.007-05:00

A few Christmases ago, Mommalah bought me a Crockpot.
It was a tiny, adorable little thing that I felt very grown up having.
I took it excitedly out of the box and set it in a place of prominence on the bottom shelf of my microwave cart and would often gaze at it, imagining the Things I Would Make in it.

I could come home to cooked meals like Mommalah used to make - and not have to wait until our ritual weekly dinners to eat.
I could eat healthy roasts and have healthy leftovers ... oh, how healthy I would be.

That little Crockpot sat on that shelf and gathered dust for the next few years until last year when Mommalah declared the Crockpot too small for me to do anything with - as if that's the sole reason I never used it. {How angelic of her not to call attention to the fact that it's because her daughter is Inept in the Kitchen as the true reason it was never used.} She declared that the Crockpot's white insert would make the perfect tureen for our Thanksgiving gravy.

Last Christmas, Mommalah went on to buy me another Crockpot, a larger one with a pretty fall motif on the outside. Instead of taking this one out of the box and putting it on the microwave cart, however, this one I let it sit on the spare bed in my office, unopened until today.

Today, I have to work until 7 p.m., so I'll miss out on Sunday dinner at Mommalah's.
Today, I've decided to host Sunday dinner for Mommalah here.
Today, I've decided to make that Crockpot my bitch.

And now I'm a nervous wreck.

Long ago, my dear friend Tiffany gave me a recipe for chicken stroganoff with low WeightWatchers points.
It sounded so easy enough that I, the Inept in the Kitchen, could do it.
And so I am trying.

It's actually slow cooking as we speak.

I want so badly for it to be good.
I want so badly for the Crockpot and I to be friends.
Good friends, great even.

I will be on pins and needles all day until I come home and lift up that lid to taste the concoction.

If all else fails, we have chilled wine and Great Wall Chinese on speed dial.

The New Regime: Day 26

2009-10-30T08:23:00.003-04:00

Today, we're going to have a pizza party at the office.

It's been One of Those Weeks, so the mini packages of M&Ms one of my coworkers brought in have been screaming my name. They've actually resorted to marching themselves right into my mouth all week long and frankly, I'm not having it today.

I decided to take smart action and nix the M&Ms once and for all.
No. Matter. What.
I will treat myself to one piece of pizza - it's free so I'd be silly to pass on it, really - and packed a nicely-sized salad to have once I'm done with that sole slice. I've got it chockablock with mixed greens, chick peas, olives and grape tomatoes to fill me up.

Here's hoping the willpower stays strong.

Chronic dieters, how do you fend off tasty diet saboteurs like snack- and fun-sized candies and office pizza parties?

The New Regime: Day 24.

2009-10-28T21:04:00.005-04:00

As you can probably tell from the lack of TNR writings, someone went of the wagon again.
{But she assures she's back on full force this week.}

My weight reached Biblical proportions the last few weeks thanks to full-on boozing and noshing during a wedding weekend and I just decided it was time to stop the insanity. Finally.
{"Again."}

I've done some Proper Prior Planning this week and actually cooked something: veggie wraps I found in this month's Glamour magazine.

The wraps required sauteing veggies (I chose red and green peppers, grape tomatoes and chickpeas because I had a hankering for them). I took low-fat mozzarella, sprinkled it on a whole wheat tortilla, added those sauteed veggies, made a quasi-pocket and then
grilled
the
tortilla
to perfection.

It oozed cheese and was delicious.

I couldn't believe it.
I really couldn't believe it.

So tonight, I made it again.
Though the tortilla got a little too blackened (OK, a lot of too blackened), I was tickled pink again.

When added to my extra workout today (SELF yoga in the morning, 20 minutes on Air Climber when I got home), I am feeling pretty awesome right now.

I'm back, New Regime.
For good.
{I hope, oh how I hope!!}

I've spent the evening catching up on some Weight Watcher and Hungry Girl newsletters to help keep me motivated.
What do you do to stay on track?

T minus 8 weeks. Quelle horror!

2009-10-25T20:20:00.003-04:00

Doing my bills this evening I realized something horrid.
Something vile.
Something so disgusting, it gave me goosebumps.

Christmas is only eight weeks away.

Be afraid ... be very afraid.

Don't get me wrong - I love Christmas.
Adore it even, but doesn't it feel like it kinda just sneaks up on you?
Eight weeks.
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.

Always a guest ...

2009-10-18T20:21:00.004-04:00

Yesterday a very dear and beloved friend got married.
She was absolutely gorgeous, and it was so wonderful seeing such a happy couple.

But, my Fellow Longtime Singletons, isn't there just a tiny part of you that kind of dies inside with every wedding you attend?

I've been in two major long-term relationships and neither came close to The Big Day - something I am quite thankful for, believe me.

They just weren't the right fit for me, I s'pose.
{And honestly, they really weren't worthy.}
{Never mind that I maybe, just maybe, am sometimes too independent ... and maybe, just maybe, too opinionated ... and maybe, just maybe, set in my ways too much for a lot of guys to deal with, and I came to terms with that long, long ago.}
But I truly believe there's a man, a real, decent man out there who's man enough to accept the sometimes bad with the a lot good that's inside this Rambler.

But that doesn't mean I don't get a little wistful and have a sense of longing for The One sometimes, may Independent Women strike me down.

But, thankfully, I had the most fabulous date ever - Johnny - and my wistfulness was gone likethat .

We had so much fun - though my feet are killing me (and they want to kill him for keeping me on the dancefloor all night!). I felt pretty fabulous in my pretty party dress and know I've got a lot of wonderful things in my life already.

Now that's love.

Happy Birthday to ... this!!

2009-10-15T19:03:00.005-04:00

It's hard to believe Ramblings On turns one tomorrow!
I started it on a whim, and despite a few lapses, I've discovered I really love blogging.

I love having a place to put my thoughts, a place where I can call myself out on my never-ending saga of trying to be healthier and lose weight, hone my writing skills, and "meet" new people, as well as discover bloggers I really cannot live without now.
{Check them out, won't you, on the list to the right.}

Thanks you, from the bottom of my heart, for reading Ramblings On!
And now let's eat cupcakes!
{I'll buy, but don't get used to it! ;) }

The New Regime: Day 10.

2009-10-15T08:01:00.004-04:00

Last night - which is Day 10 - I went to dinner with a friend and did something I've never done before: I didn't inhale - or finish - everything placed before me.

I daresay I Ate In Moderation.

My friend Amy has always been in control of her food intake.
I've seen her push aside a sandwich and fries about halfway through, while I eyed up those fries ravenously, still hungry as I finished my entire meal across the table from her.

I had been looking forward to the dinner all week and had every intention of eating, because I was starving.

Instead, I followed Amy's lead.

- When she pushed her salad plate aside, I followed suit.
- Our fantastic appetizer was taken away with two pieces of tuna - instead of me polishing off the leftovers "because there's starving kids in Africa."
- While I enjoyed one extra - and I will have you know tiny - piece of bread dipped in a delicious olive oil, I didn't go hog wild on it as I kind-of/sort-of wanted to.
- As I made it halfway through my entree, I pushed it aside before her because my brain was already pre-conditioned after two courses of eating in moderation.
- We pondered dessert, which I said we'd only take one bite of - and meant it, but opted to just enjoy one more glass of wine instead.

As we sat there and talked over that last glass, I couldn't help but revel in how I felt.

I didn't feel stuffed to the gills, nor did I feel guilty about being weak and gorging myself as I may or may not have been known to do.

Instead, I felt a little hungry still - and like someone who ate a great dinner with a great friend and enjoyed every bite of all that I had.

And best of all, for the first time ever I felt like I was in control of my eating.

I finally realized I don't have to stuff myself to the point of sick to enjoy a dinner.

Is that the sign of a lifestyle change or what?!

Just dance.

2009-10-13T23:18:00.005-04:00

"I can't dance, I can't talk.
Only thing about me is the way I walk.
I can't dance, I can't sing
I'm just standing here selling everything."
~~ Genesis, "I Can't Dance"

Today was the longest day ever.
My best friend Johnny gave word that two of his friends were coming over for drinks, so as soon as I was finished at work, I sent the smoke signal to have a glass at the ready for me as I hightailed it to his fabulous haus.

Johnny is pretty much the most fabulous person I know.
Not only is he my BFF, he's a kindred spirit - one that I can discuss books and a million other things with and share my love of good libations.
He's also my fantastic date to many a thing since I'm always the one going stag, but more than that, he's just great to be around. Aside from my family, he's the only person who ever really helps me feel good about myself, and plus, he keeps a fabulously pristine haus that makes me regret my own somewhat uncleanliness.

By the time I got there, two bottles of wine had magically disappeared, and upon my arrival, three more - including a tasty homemade vino that was to die for - somehow found their way into the same black hole.

Instead of cracking open another bottle, we turned to our old standby, Stegmaier.

What followed next was inevitable.

A dance party.
Which is pretty miraculous considering I'm the worst dancer ever, something Johnny can attest, considering he's tried to teach me about a million times, including a two-step across his dining room tonight.

But enough about my shortcmings on the rug cutting.
Back to the dance party.
It included Murray Head's "One Night in Bangkok" and Cindy Lauper's "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun."
It included more than a few show tunes before morphing into Madonna - during which Johnny and I made up a routine to "Like a Virgin," "Like a Prayer" and an off-the-charts (if I do say so myself) "Vogue" - before ending with the ever-queenly Cher.

It was totally what this Tuesday ordered.

And I totally envisioned myself dancing amid "Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves,"

but it just might have been the booze talking ... never mind the routine we did during "Half Breed" and "Like a Virgin."

Some things are sacred, you know.

My fabulous Mommalah.

2009-10-11T20:16:00.006-04:00

"All that I am,
or hope to be,
I owe to my angel mother."
~~ Abraham Lincoln

Mommalah.
She is the most loving, kind and just downright incredible person I know, or probably will ever know.
It's a great feeling to know that you are loved so completely and so unconditionally.

Yesterday was her birthday, so we went to the fabulous Tunkhannock Rotary Harvest & Wine Festival.
We got our commemorative glasses and hit the grapes, falling in love with a few wineries, and the exact opposite with a few wineries - though you'd never know the latter from our always-empty glasses!

We got ourselves a nice little sunny fall day buzz before heading to the fabulously quaint Twigs for dinner. If you ever find yourself in Tunkhannock, you simply must eat there! Athenian chicken is to die!

I wanted so desperately for her to have a wonderful birthday, a day she's never really been too crazy about.
{Clearly my obsessive compulsive zest and excitement for my own birthday comes from the mailman.}

And she totally did.
And so did I.
I hope and pray everyone has as amazing a woman for their mother as I do.

"God could not be everywhere,
and therefore he made mothers."
~~ Jewish proverb

The New Regime: Days 4 & 5.

2009-10-09T22:21:00.003-04:00

Wow. I can't believe it's been five whole days since I started TNR.
And that I stuck to it as rigidly as I did.

Yesterday, I had a really good morning workout and went out to dinner with Mommalah, where I actually behaved myself.

Today, I did a killer ab routine.
I got terribly peckish at work after eating my salad for lunch, so I grabbed my wallet and headed to the elevator that would take me down to the vending machine, where I was sure to fall prey to a bag of pretzels I'd eat in one sitting - a bag that probably had a serving size of three.

I hit the down button, and as I waited for the doors to open, I remembered the banana I brought in two days ago, that was slowly turning brown.

I remembered how good I felt this week.
I remembered how noticeably thin my face was already.
I remembered how proud I felt of how strong my willpower had been.
I remembered feeling my jammie pants get less snug as the week went on.
I remembered how I've been reveling that my stomach, which is still and probably always will be more fleshy than I'd like, was less fleshy than I began the week with.

Can I just tell you I enjoyed the hell out of that banana?
Almost as much as I enjoyed finding this:

The New Regime: Day 3.

2009-10-07T16:33:00.002-04:00

I am completely dragging ass today.
Still haven't really slept and it's starting to catch up to me.
But I did take one hell of a walk after work like I had wanted to. It was my usual 2-mile loop, but I seemed to be trekking a lot more brisk than usual.

Because of my uber-ridiculously early outing this morning, I ate my breakfast super early and didn't eat again for another six hours.

That is virtually unheard of for me, unless I have to fast for blood work.
I'm the type of girl could - and would before TNR - binge all day long.
I even used my rarely-seen willpower to not have any of the tempting, tasty-looking subs from Quizno's while I was at 98.5 KRZ this morning.

Me turning down food? Or, more importantly, me turning down free, carb-laden food?
A whole new regime, indeed!

I know pride is bad, but I can't help but feel so proud of myself!

The New Regime: Day 2

2009-10-06T19:48:00.003-04:00

Today was sort of stellar, diet-wise.
I ate very well, did a heck of a yoga routine from an old SELF magazine - the one with tips from Jennifer Aniston's own instructor.

I just felt lighter, and felt completely wired most of the day after the morning's grande red eye from Starbucks (a medium coffee with a shot of espresso. SO GOOD! and SO EXPENSIVE!).

Was kind of pissed I got out of work a little later than expected, only because it meant I wouldn't be able to take a walk tonight. And I have to be out of the house retardedly early tomorrow, so no pre-work workout.

Enter The Testing Zone.
Historically, if I get sidetracked or have a crazy schedule one day, it derails my whole regime.

Well, not this time damn you.

Since the early bird will be out ... well, early tomorrow, she'll be home early as well, and plans to take a big ole walk.
I can't wait.

On Sunday, I stocked up on Lean Cuisine and bought myself a new SHAPE magazine for inspiration, even going so far as to ask Mommalah for a subscription for Christmas.

That little question spawned The New Regime's first challenge (as if eating healthy and exercising at least five days a week isn't challenging enough).

The challenge is to lose 10 pounds by the time my first issue arrives.

I think I can do it.
I know I can do it.
I want to do it.
Do you think I can do it?

{Because I am so easily discouraged, I'd love for you to comment below with some of your suggestions and tips on how to keep my will power - and call me out if/when I fall off the wagon.}

The New Regime: Day 1

2009-10-05T20:12:00.004-04:00

OK, I'm not gonna lie to you.
Day 1 of The New Nikki didn't go off to a half hour on the Air Climber. I did still get up at 6:20 a.m. and did a half-hearted 10 minutes on the AC, but I was so exhausted because I had one of my Insomniac Nights.
Not that that's an excuse, of course, even though I didn't really push myself.

I ate well all day and was starving by the time I left work.
I was so starving that I got one of my Nikki Hungry headaches,* yet I courageously ventured out for a quick walk around the school.

Damned if I didn't feel better!
The crisp air and the beautiful fall sky made everything better, even though I felt weak from starvation.**

The neatest thing happened at the end of my first lap. Just as I came around the corner of the school, I, deep in thought, looked up at the sky.
In parts it was bright orange as the sun began to set, and toward my house, amid ominously dark clouds, a very faint rainbow was visible.
I don't know why, because it certainly wasn't raining, which is the really only time I've ever seen a rainbow, save for through the mist at Niagara Falls.
It made me happy.

***
Like maybe I'm on my way to my pot of gold - my pot of mental and physical happiness gold.

I got home from my brisk 1.5 mile walk, had a nice dinner, ate my pudding cup with a dollop of peanut butter**** and here I am.

I feel better. Clear headed. Like I'm getting back on the road to myself. Yet again.

Well, I guess everyone is a work in progress, right?

*a searing headache that comes along during the first few days of a diet. According to my medical analysis, the headaches happen during the drastic switch from gorging myself to diet mode. Now granted, my medical analysis is done by me, who is not a doctor, nor do I play one on TV, so it's pretty much bunk.
** I am not, under any circumstances, starving myself. I just like to hyperbole. And use big words.
*** Photo courtesy of Photobucket.com, not moi.
**** For the first time in my adult life of living alone - nine whole years - I bought generic peanut butter. I am a total Jif Extra Crunchy girl and immediately following the demise of this jar of generic reduced fat peanut butter, I am totally going back to my Jif Extra Crunchy. I don't give a damn how many Weight Watcher points it is. That fresh roasted peanuts taste is worth the higher price. I'm ashamed of myself, really, for trying to pinch pennies, when all I did was pinch taste. What kind of foodie am I?

Down in the dumps plus a TV marathon and a Happy List.

2009-10-04T20:03:00.008-04:00

I've been feeling pretty miserable.
On Friday, I took my first sick day ever - yes, ever - during my 3.5+ years at the Weekender on Friday. It broke my heart, too, because it was our annual Model of the Year party, the biggest shindig we throw. It's like the prom for us staffers, and what girl doesn't love her prom??

I had a horrid cold. Sore throat. Fever. The Works.
But even before that, I was pretty down in the dumps.
Fall is my favorite season and I always feeling so reinvigorated and ready to Go. Walk. Bask in the cool temps.
But these past few weeks I've been going through one of my Lonely Periods. (Plus one of my I Feel Fat periods. Ugh.)
The change of seasons made me yearn for someone to go pumpkin picking with. Someone to kick up leaves with. Someone to cuddle when the temperature goes below zero in the apartment (or someone who has a warmer house to crash at).

But enough about the lonely period.
He'd probably find it weird that, in between numerous naps on Friday, I spent an awful lot of time watching the Canadian teen drama "Degrassi." I fell right into its soap opera-y world and it was everything I knew it would be. I'm not even ashamed to say I watched it for the better part of 10 hours.
{The last TV marathon of that caliber was when I happened upon a "Ninja Warrior" on G4 a few years back. It, too, was an exquisite way to spend 10 hours of my life I will never get back.}

Now that you've snickered and judged my "Degrassi" addiction, what is your TV guilty pleasure?

And now on with 10 Things That Make Me Happy:

1. Sundays with Mommalah …
2. … especially ones when she lets me be all whiny.
3. A blue sky over the pond so dark that’s lined by vibrant fall-colored trees.
4. Fall weather.
5. Seeing leaves dance in my rear view.
6. A gorgeous Halloween-worthy moon.
7. Feeling better, finally.
8. A “Degrassi” marathon.
9. A new episode of “Family Guy.”
10. Looking forward to making Mommalah’s birthday special on Saturday.

This was going to be a blog about math ...

2009-09-30T22:42:00.002-04:00

I had a quippy little title all picked out and everything
(Me + math = 0) ...
but then thinking of numbers scared me, so I nixed the idea.

I do so hate math.
Adding.
Subtracting.
I can multiply, but only if I have scratch paper.
And I will blatantly refuse to do any sort of division.

I still, at 32, count on my fingers if - God forbid - a calculator isn't in arm's length.

It's stupid. It's silly. And I don't apologize for it.
{well maybe part of me does, but I sure as hell can't tell you what percentage of me it is.}

The epitome of a lady.

2009-09-24T18:58:00.003-04:00

Even with my sometimes salty language, I fancy myself a lady.

I have a fabulous pair of pearls I break out on occasion, which were lovingly presented to me from Mommalah on my 30th birthday.

I think men should open doors for me - well, all ladies actually, but you get my drift.

Even if I offer, I think men should pay.
{Let it be known that I offer because I don't know how to handle having a man pay a lot because I've never actually dated any man who even resembled a gentleman.}
{Also let it be known that I do not have that '50s-housewife-take-care-of-me weak mentality, so don't go getting all Women's Lib on me, people. [Even though I daresay I really wouldn't mind having someone take care of me. I am in my 32nd year of being single, you know ...]}

The epitome of a Lady, to me, is Jackie Kennedy Onassis.
I mean just look at her:

The pearls. The resolve. The high-head holding. The grace.
Even when she smoked she was absolutely stunning.

And look at this picture of her on the day she married Jack.

I should hope and pray to look that gorgeous on my wedding day, should there ever be such a day in my lifetime.

"The first time you marry for love,
the second for money,
and the third for companionship."

Jackie is fashion to me.
The shifts - long, long before Mrs. Obama. The pillbox hats. The pumps. The sunglasses. The Chanel. Oleg Cassini.
Even in casual clothes, the lady was Fashionable.

Whenever I find myself in an uncomfortable situation, like if I'm at an event by myself, or at an event where I am Dressed to the Nines, I think of her. How she would stand, hold herself, mingle. What Would Jackie Do?

"I want minimum information
given with maximum politeness."

I remember when I first started learning about her, as I watched the footage and saw the photos in my many Jackie-related books about JFK's funeral, how she carried herself.

How, even in the deepest depths of grief, Jackie was still beautiful.
Still graceful.
Still held a grieving country together, because if the widow could stand tall and regal, well, so could the president's people.

She was the closest thing the United States has ever had to royalty - or ever will.
Say what you will about the scoundrel her father was, about the families she married into, about how she might have been "phony" and "snooty" as the First Lady.

You can't say she wasn't a lady.
Maybe the last, honest-to-goodness American Lady.

Neglect by Nikki.

2009-09-22T17:35:00.002-04:00

I feel like I'm neglecting Ramblings on ... actually I know I am.
Things are crazy at work and in life, but I'll be back after this weekend, I promise you!

I hope I'm missed!

Analyze this, dream doctor!

2009-09-17T08:36:00.005-04:00

Last night, I had a disturbing dream.
It was one of those long, drawn-out dreams that, even if you wake up briefly - like say to hit snooze three times and crawl closed-eyed back into bed - you fall right back into.

It involved my father and brother Michael who were vampires trying to kill me.
Not make me a vampire, which of course would have been super cool, but actually kill me.
{Blogger's note: This might not be too far from reality when, as children, my brother tried to kill me on at least seven different occasions. One is well documented in a photo my mother took of us because she thought it was "cute" that Michael was holding a shut-off chainsaw to my belly and had a maniacal smile on his face. Said photo is displayed prominently on his entertainment center - and is the only photo of us that is in such a prominent place. He - and our parents - adamantly deny the Seven Times He Tried To Kill Me. I wonder if this could count as number eight??}

Through the whole dream, myself and a girl who resembled Taylor Swift, who was a cashier in a grocery store that helped me find its soap display - apparently my OCD even makes me dream about Ivory soap - and I gave chase to my Papa and Michael.

The weirdest thing isn't that the chase spanned all four seasons.
It was the fact that as we chased them, we were doing it in RC cars and tanks because we were miniature-sized people.

Toward the end of the dream, Taylor twin and I went to the house next door to the house my brother lived in when he lived in Pa. seven years ago (got that?) and Papa killed the Taylor girl because she went in first, and Michael came out to talk to me, teeth bared naturally.

He was like "This has to happen. You can't keep hunting us. You tried to kill our leader in the grocery store with your soap hunt."

I was crying and trying to get away from him, but he had me cornered in the garage attic we used to play in - one that was ironically bat infested.

The reason I was crying and pleading with Michael?
Not because he was going to kill me, but because he wouldn't make me a vampire, something I'd so enjoy, what with my already fang-like canine teeth, penchant for black and insomnia.
What a jerk!

I made a Happy List!

2009-09-16T08:56:00.002-04:00

... even though I'm feeling kind of grumble-y since the fridge isn't fixed and I'm not feeling well and, while the temperature is my kind of temperature, there's no sun ... oh, this is supposed to be a Happy List entry.

On with it then! :)

10 things that make me happy:

1. Fall. Glorious, glorious fall!
2. Taking a morning walk and having the crisp air nip my nose.
3. My OCD morning rituals.
4. The smell of crab apples.
5. Russet-colored leaves blanketing the ground.
6. Knowing that we put out a kick-ass issue of the Weekender today.
7. Having a super busy next two weeks (and kind of secretly loving it).
8. Wearing my velour winter robe with animal-print cuffs.
9. Seeing the blindingly clean inside of my fridge, even though I’m still pissed that it still isn’t fixed.
10. Cardigans!

Hope you'll have lots to make you happy on this Hump Day!

Photoblog of Steamtown's RailFest 2009 ...

2009-09-09T08:14:00.004-04:00

... on the trip from Scranton to Moscow and back, mixed in with some train haiku/tanka I've written over the past few years. It's been so long since I felt like posting any po-ems of mine. Hope you enjoy!

Mighty whistle blows
as the train goes roaring past
on its photo run. 9/6/09

{Johnny holding a magazine that has that very train on its cover.}

{Real engineers!}

{Another real engineer! In the actual engine!}

{Our chariot to Moscow.}

{We had a WWII reenactor riding with us, and I kept thinking about my beloved Pop-Pop, who was in the Battle of the Bulge.}

{En route, at the bend behind the Radission Lackawanna.}

We traversed the tracks
just as Phoebe Snow once did
in a simpler time. 9/6/09

{An old-time advertisment inside the train. Please pronounce it "ad-ver-tiss-ment, kindly.}

{At the Moscow Station.}

I hear the not-so-
far-away train. My heart, a
vagabond, hops it,
wistful that somewhere out there
is a lonely heart like mine. 5/20/08

On a rolling train
she smokes, as lives rush past her;
exhaled lovers
swirl around her. Deep in thought.
On a rolling train, she smokes. 4/11/09

Fin.

This is my OCD blogging.

2009-09-07T19:45:00.003-04:00

Mommalah and I headed up to Walmart in Tunkhannock today.
When I need to make a run to Wallyworld, I prefer to hit up this store.
It's a gorgeous little jaunt from the country house, and it's less, well ... less like the one in Wilkes-Barre.
{Let's just leave it at that.}

So we enjoyed cruising in the Bitch pod to the store, and I dug out my miles-long list.

Locating everything went swimmingly. Mommalah was even so kind as to pick up some new fall flowers (fake) to put in my basket on the sidewalk, which she, for some reason, entrusted upon me the task to put them in and make them "like so," incorporating with them the scarecrow figure she picked up for $1.
{She was not pleased, though, that I wanted the scarecrow in the blue faux denim overalls and not the orangey one that would offset said flowers better, but she'll get over it I s'pose.}

Toward the end of my list were the Parcels of the Most Importance: Ivory Liquid Hand Soap and Ivory bodywash.

I scoured each shelf in the respective aisle to no avail.
There was not hide nor hair of my beloved products I've been using for probably the last 20 years.
Panic set in as Mommalah suggested substitutions, even being so kind as to hold up some vanilla-scented monstrosity for my sniffing approval.

"No, no," I said, trying not to sound as panicked as I was, practically getting down on my hands and knees to check the bottom shelf "just in case."

"What about Dial?" my angelic Mommahlah said and I swear on my love of Gerard Butler, my hands felt like they were burning at the thought.

I took a deep breath and tried to calm down.
Then a terrible, horrific and utterly frightening thought entered my mind:
What if they discontinued Ivory Liquid Hand Soap?

My local grocer no longer carries it, and Walmart, my trusty, tried-and-true retailer doesn't have it, what the hell will I and my sensitive skin do if Ivory Liquid Hand Soap is the d-word?
{I cannot even bear to say it again.}

{Anecdote: When my Colgate herbal toothpaste got discontinued a few years back, I was just sick over it for like two weeks. I recently thought Aim was on its way out, so I enlisted Mommalah into picking me up some at her store, and she dropped off three boxes. All three included a trial size, so at least I'm set there for a good long while.}

So we left the store and heading into Tunkhannock for a bit and then drove to Grotto Pizza, and while we had a splendid time, in the back of my head I was seriously worried about the soap situation.

I asked if we could stop at her grocer on the way home because "I could swear they carry my soap."

So we did.
And they did.
They had like eight of them and my OCD whispered to buy all eight of them "just in case," but I bravely just bought two, and the Ivory bodywash I adore as well.

As I beeped goodbye to Mommalah as I left her house, I debated going back to her store to buy just two more soaps, but alas, I did not.

When I got home to put all my parcels away, sure as shit I already had two full Ivory Liquid Soaps in my closet, giving me a total of four.
Crisis averted!
{For now.}

A Happy List for this last day of August.

2009-08-31T20:59:00.002-04:00

10 things that made me happy today:

1. Starting the day with a glorious and vigorous uphill walk.
2. Getting a lot done and being proud of what I’ve written.
3. Autumn-like temperatures: so inspiring and invigorating!
4. Taking another vigorous walk, this one up two killer hills.
5. Homemade guacamole with dinner.
6. Bursting out laughing at a comic strip while I ate that I almost snorted guac through my nose – and then kept chuckling to myself while I washed dishes.
7. Wearing my brown wedge sandals and feeling tall and powerful. And OK, sexy.
8. A surprise visit at the office from Mommalah, who told me I looked beautiful.
9. A coworker telling me that I “seem at peace.”
10. Listening to Bob Dylan’s Theme Time Radio Hour.

Hope you found something that made you happy today too!

Don't you just love it ...

2009-08-31T08:32:00.004-04:00

... when the stars align?

This is [one of] the horoscopes I get e-mailed to me.
Yes, I know most of it is bunk, but hey, you know you read yours too, even if it's secretly.

I just find is so fitting, especially after yesterday's blog about how I'm deciding things about my life.

Your horoscope for August 31, 2009
You may be looking for some new values in your personal life, Nikki. You are no longer interested superficial or frivolous relationships today. You need to meet different kinds of people and to select those of your friends that are really worth keeping. So don't worry if you feel like taking a step back to get some perspective on things, because this is the time to do it. Relationships are too important to you for you to neglect them.

So dead on I could have blogged about it myself!

Free to be me.

2009-08-30T19:52:00.005-04:00

It was the kind of weekend you wish you could have every weekend.

There was a lot of great conversation, a lot of drinks and food, a friendship that picked up like it never left off and the meeting of some really great, fun people.

It started with an Irish car bomb at the Banshee in Scranton after a work-free Friday and ended today with four glasses of champers at my BFF Tiffany's wedding shower - where I am proud to say I won a crimson pashmina during one of the shower games! - followed by a great Sunday dinner at Mommalah's.

It was so what my soul needed.
No thoughts. Not arguments. No going-on-the-defensive.
Just me being me, with someone I can totally be me with - who thinks that me is "absolutely fabulous," as it were.

I've been feeling a little ... not myself the last week or two, just making sense of some internal demons, if you will, of what I want in a few areas of my life.

Some of those decisions are harder than others, and some, once the writing was so blatantly on the wall that even my sometimes rose-colored glasses couldn't hide them anymore, were easy as pie.

Or as easy as eating all that kielbasa this weekend and washing it down with ice cold brews.

A good weekend indeed.

Entertaining ... fabulously.

2009-08-27T20:39:00.004-04:00

I'm not much of a goddess in the kitchen.
I do, however, make a killer bourbon chocolate pecan pie for Thanksgiving and the super-secret Mascali Family cookie cake for Christmas. I've dabbled with chicken a few times, can make a mean tofu stir fry and can microwave a Lean Cuisine pepperoni pizza like it's nobody's business ... but that's pretty much where it ends.

Pretty ironic for someone who is as obsessed with food as I am, non?

I do, however, throw good party, though I have been known to offer onion dip and a fabulously fatty rippled chip at times.
When I do break out the '50s housewife for the few people who appreciate her, pearls are optional, as is the matching apron.

Last Thursday, I entertained my fabulous dear friend Johnny, or as we like to call it, the Patsy to my Edy, an homage to the lovely lush ladies of "Absolutely Fabulous."

We've recently gotten back in touch, and he came bearing oodles of vodka and limes to make his signature Phoebe Snow cocktail - named after the fabulous and fictional Lackawanna Railroad ad goddess of the early 1900s.

{Above is from a little plaque he gave moi.}

The fabulous martinis went into glasses I chilled all day long in the freezer ...

... and included Grey Goose La Poire, Svedka, Grand Marnier, fresh lime juice and a slice of pear floating ever so gracefully amid the booze.

My menu:

- a tasty little concoction I "invented" for my last drinks-n-things soiree I threw: toasted pumpernickel points and gorgonzola ...

- pretzels, green olives, black olive tapenade, wheat crackers ...

- cheddar cheese and Genoa salami ...

- and a lovely little black-&-white cookie for a sweet treat.
{Kindly notice the fabulous plate! Vintage circa 1950s!}

- Here is the table set up. I learned the importance of setting good table from Mommalah- and Johnny, neither of whom would dream of entertaining with gherkins on a stick, heaven forbid!

{Note: The blogger is aware that she used the term "fabulous" seven times. Well, eight counting that last one. Sometimes no other word'll do and those times are just, well, fabulous. (Make that nine)}

School days, school days.

2009-08-23T20:06:00.005-04:00

Though I always hated The First Day of School, I adored Back To School (BTS) Shopping.
And I'm actually not talking about clothes.

I went to a Catholic school for grades 1-8, so until the summer before ninth grade, copious amounts of clothing sales meant nothing to me.
{Among many other things I blame on my going to Catholic school, my penchant for shopping definitely takes the cake because once I got the taste of it before going into freshman year, I never looked back.}

I'm talking about something much, much deeper than that.
I'm talking ... notebooks.

... pens.
... highlighters.
... Trapper Keepers.

... folders.
And the piece de resistance ... loose-leaf paper.
{Oh God, how I loved loose-leaf paper.}

Nothing to me - someone who's been writing (sometimes pure drivel) since I was 10 - is more enticing than loose-leaf paper or a fresh notebook.
I loved the smell of it, the feel of it, the promise of it.
The ideas that would unfurl between those light blue lines - how powerful is that? Knowing my words - even if they were chem notes I sure as hell wouldn't understand or algebra I haven't used once in the near 15 years since I graduated - would fill up those lines.
Mind. Blowing. Exclamation point!

Even today, I get giddy when I go into an office supply store, or down the BTS aisle of [insert local discount mart here]. I could stay there for hours picking out the perfect notebooks and smelling all the paper surrounding me.
{The pens have always, always been blue PaperMate pens. And only blue PaperMate pens.}

And how about the promise of a new school year?
The year you'll make the honor roll, the cheerleading squad, snag the cute bad boy?
Oh it's always so rife with possibility.

Which is exactly why I've been thinking about BTS time a lot lately, and decided to make my own BTS promises this school year, even though I:
1. Do not go to school.
2. Do not work in a school.
3. Do not have children I am preparing to send off to school.

This is my Back To School list:

- I will learn to cook. Once and for all. Without dramatics. Maybe whilst wearing my pearls. And with a martini within reach.
- I will grow my nails. And upkeep them, instead of biting them or picking at them.
- I will clean more often in the nooks and crannies of the fabulous apartment I adore, instead of taking the easy way out.
- I will wear a fabulous dress to the office at least once a week. Maybe accessorized with the pearls.
- I will freelance.
- I will learn to meditate.
- I will get back into jogging. Once and for all.
- I will revel in the fact that I am single, even if I get lonely sometimes. Good things - great things - come to those who wait. Ever so patiently.

Fin.

Hoot of the night owl.

2009-08-18T21:36:00.004-04:00

Just because I've always been fascinated by vampires doesn't mean I should be an insomniac, does it?

Well, it certainly seems that way.

I've been going through one of my Bouts of Sleeplessness again, but this time it's because I'm feeling inspired.

I can't get my brain - or my body - to slow down.

I want to read.
I want to write.
I want to clean.
I want to exercise.
I want to take up cooking.
I want to dance around the house.

I'm like a kid with ADD for Pete's sake!

Take these past few days for example.
I already have 20.5 hours in at work and right now, instead of being dog-tired as I know I should be, I am feeling hyper. I almost wish I could hop on the Air Climber and bang out half an hour - and kick the ass of this morning's measly 15 minutes I did half asleep, but I'm afraid that when I do actually crash, it'll end up keeping up.

It's a vicious, vicious thing methinks.

I've always been a night owl, even when I was a little girl. Yet another trait inherited from Mommalah - it joins gnarly feet, searing wit and all-around fabulousness ... naturally.

How soon until tea?

2009-08-15T20:38:00.004-04:00

I long for fall.
I always do - it's my favorite time of year, especially because I absolutely loathe these humid temperatures. I loved the summer weather - or lack thereof - we've had (minus all the monsoon rains of course).

One of the main reasons I'm jonesing for fall isn't just because I look forward to snuggling under a mountain of covers with my windows open as the temperature drops, but because I miss my favorite morning ritual: using my tea kettle.

It looks so forlorn and lonely unused on my retro-colored yellow stove that it kind of breaks my heart. There's just something so calming, so British, so Zen about that kettle whistling for me when I get out of the shower and the first sip of a good strong green tea.

Soon, soon.
(But not soon enough for me.)

Taking a bite out of Charlotte, or Oink Oink Part Deux.

2009-08-13T19:14:00.004-04:00

Sorry I've been so MIA - I went on a long overdue and much-needed vacation.
Ahh.
Went back to work today and it was like the vacation didn't happen.
OK ... maybe I am slightly dramatic.

What better way to recapture my wonderful vacation to visit my brother in North Carolina than to list all the wonderfully fatty and non-diet friendly food I ate.
Unfortunately, there are no pics to accompany, but I'm sure we can all envision how great they all were.

- Wednesday, Aug. 5
LUNCH: Frankie's Italian Grille. Charlotte.
Had the Mona Lisa salad which comes with amazing dressing and fresh goat cheese that is to die for (my brother says they sometimes deep fry it - oh, the deliciousness that must be!). I also wailed on every slice of bread that was served with olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Plus, I ordered the orgasmic Nutella bread pudding. Yes, it was as sinfully exquisite as it sounds.

DINNER: Azteca. Charlotte.
Had chips and salsa at this delightful Mexican joint and fresh, table made guacamole that was served in a real stone bowl. I could barely even lift it, which made it that much easier for me to wail on it. Fresh jalapenos gave it a fiery kick. I realized that I absolutely adore tamales. And burritos smothered in cheese. Think maybe I knew that but forgot. (As if!) Since I ate so well-behaved (wink, wink), I treated myself to a lime margarita on the rocks.

In the interim between lunch and dinner, I was introduced to Sweet Tea vodka. I don't know where it's been all my life, but it is certainly here to stay now.

- Thursday, Aug. 6
BRUNCH: Ate my leftover Mexican.

DINNER: Hawthorne's New York Pizza & Bar. Mint Hill.
We all shared the chili cheese dip and I ate two exquisite slices of round with hot peppers and one slice Sicilian with mushrooms and black olives. Finished the Nutella bread pudding after brother and "sister" went to bed. Not because I was eating in hiding, but because I honestly forgot. This may have been the night I watched "The Nanny Diaries."

- Friday, Aug. 7
BRUNCH: I think I ate leftover pizza. Cold, naturally.

DINNER: Cosmos Cafe. Uptown Charlotte.
After meeting friends at their house for drinks and things, we all headed out for tapas and a continuation of drinking as I was already about four deep into a Sweet Tea vodka binge. We split an array of sushi, Lucky 7 spring rolls and many other things. I heard Jamie Foxx's "Blame It," which caused me to burst into it many times over the rest of my vacation, much to my brother's anger.

{The night then included a flirtini at Blue, mad fun dancing and Sweet Tea vodka and lemonades at The Breakfast Club, an '80s-themed heaven, if you ask me, and a very, very funny cab ride with a Liberian driver who had "Scarface" on the DVD player. The ride included tales of sheep and me repeating the only line from "Scarface" that I know: "Meet my lil' friend!" Ahh. Good times.}

- Saturday, Aug. 8
DINNER: Shrimp, filet and lobster tail on the grill.
We skipped breakfast and lunch because we all felt the effects from the night before all day. Brother grilled the above and it was phenomenal. I relieved his refrigerator of two framboise Lambics.

- Sunday, Aug. 9
BRUNCH: Upstream. Charlotte.
Where where where to even begin. This was the most exquisite brunch I've ever had, and believe me, I've had a lot! Cheese. Capers. Smoked salmon. Mac n cheese. Hummus. Even raw oysters and sushi for those that could eat that at 11:30 a.m., which I could not. The best part? The tapas, which is included in the brunch buffet. Eggs Benedict over a crab cake. Yes, you heard me: Eggs Benedict over a crab cake. Belgium waffle with bourbon bananas. The most ridiculously good French toast. Shrimp with grits which was actually really good (not normally a fan of grits). Despite all that sugary sustenance - especially with double servings of the Belgium waffle, I had to have the pecan pie and chocolate peanut butter dessert thing. I felt like I ate my weight.

DINNER: Mac's Speed Shop. Charlotte.
This biker bar/barbecue had amazing hush puppies and the brisket was off the hook, as the hipsters say. So tender! And the onion rings were super peppery and tasty. Add two cans o' Guinness to wash it down and I was one very happy piggy!

- Monday, Aug. 10
BREAKFAST: Cracker Barrel. Matthews.
You simply cannot go wrong with Cracker Barrel. Two eggs over easy. Hash brown casserole. Biscuits and gravy. Coffee. Grapefruit juice. Manna from the sky.

DINNER: Turkey, ham and provolone hoagie and fries from a place whose name escapes me.
Very tasty, especially since it capped off a day of non-stop drinking. Sweet Tea martinis. Most of the framboise.

- Tuesday, Aug. 11
BREAKFAST: Brother made pancakes and scrambled eggs with crab and toast.
Green Mountain Island Coconut coffee. Mmm mmm good!

LUNCH: Just a quick sandwich before we left for the airport.

{Note: Despite a previous declaration, I did not actually take any outfits that resembled workout clothes. The only shoes I had were two pairs of flip-flops and two pairs of stilettos. I basically did nothing more than stuff my face every chance I got and stayed as sedentary as I possibly could - it was everything I knew it could be.}

{Note II: And I actually came home one pound lighter!}

Fin.

No nannys in this childhood.

2009-08-07T01:09:00.001-04:00

Against my better judgment, I watched "The Nanny Diaries" after my brother and "sister" retired for the night.

I thought it was so good!

And it made me really thankful to have the parents I did ... and do.

Our parents worked their asses off when we were kids in the horrid restaurant business. They pulled many 16-plus hour days - almost every day - whereas when I have to do one I piss and moan about it or act like I found a cure for feline AIDS or something. Plus. I don't come home to a kid who needs help with homework or a feeding.

The best thing I learned from this movie was that while Laura Linney's Park Ave princess ccouldn't see or be a mother to her kid because of her oodles of "obligations," my own mother - who had a hard job that has taken its toll on her health over the years - was there for absolutely everything for my brother and I. She worked so many Mother's Days and holidays but never once do I ever recall either of us saying "I wish Mom was here."

Because she was. Always.

Om ...

2009-07-31T18:45:00.003-04:00

I continually run at a highly agitated state.

My mind is constantly churning with so much work stuff, life stuff, stuff stuff that it's hard for me to turn it off - even when I make a conscious effort to do so.

I cannot control everything - and I know that - yet I still try to be the be-all and end-all because I try not to half-ass anything I do. It's just not my nature.

From this moment on, I vow to myself and my chronic insomnia that I will become a duck. That I will let things roll off me like beads of water run right off that waterfowl's back (a duck IS waterfowl, right?).

I will think of these gorgeous Tahitian pictures that I dream to some day see for myself and just be.

I am what I am.
I do what I can.
I am only myself, I am no one else.

{Wow. That sounds too deep to be just me. Must be working already!}

Ramblings on ... about love.*

2009-07-30T22:21:00.007-04:00

At least once a year, I ensconce myself within the fabulously glitzy world of "Sex and the City."

It's that time of year, as I have been smack-dab in the middle of 2009's visit for the last couple weeks. Like "Bridget Jones' Diary," it's something I turn to when I need some reaffirmations about my life which is indubitably less fabulous than my favorite foursome.

I identify with all four of the characters.

Like Carrie, I, too, write for a newspaper, have too many shoes (though not expensive or ridiculously sexy as hers, but I get by) and shit luck with men. I can be narcissistic.

I am sometimes bitchy and cynical like Miranda and so used to being the strong one and taking care of myself that it's hard to let someone else in.

I have my days where I am sometimes brazen enough, or feel thin enough from a particularly good workout that I think I am as slinky and sexy as Samantha, who says and does exactly what she feels.

And at the end of the day, despite all the bitchy narcissistic cynicism I sometimes pander to, like Charlotte, I let myself be hopeful and optimistic about love.

That it's out there.
That I'll find it one day if I just stay steadfast.
I'll hold that hand.
I'll have that arm around me.
I'll have those sweet things whispered in my ear.
I'll be loved for all the things I love when I look in the mirror - not in the narcissistic way that'll drown me, dear heavens no because there's a lot I hate still when I look in the mirror - but what I see behind my Guinness-colored eyes.

"The most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you find someone to love the you you love, well that's just fabulous."
~~ Carrie Bradshaw on "Sex and the City"

Strength. An ability to love. An ability to laugh. An ability to enjoy life.
An ability to know myself. And like - even love sometimes - myself, just as I am.

"We are shaped and fashioned by what we love."
~~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

I love my parents. I love my brother and "sister." I love my friends. I love my job. I love AIM toothpaste. I love mint ChapStick. I love blue PaperMate pens. I love my bedroom. I love music. I love food.

I love seeing people in love because it makes me hopeful.
Maybe I love enough. Maybe I've loved enough to last a lifetime.
Or maybe I just haven't loved the right person yet.

Yeah. I love that thought the best.

*The writer does apologize for the deep thoughts and heavy romanticism. She's been inundated with engagements and weddings in the world around her.

What else is a single gal to do when she can't afford Jimmy Choos?

The men I have loved.

2009-07-27T19:37:00.006-04:00

I've only been In Love a handful of times in my 32 years, but I've been In Love With A Celebrity many times over.

Only three were serious:

{"The King of Cool" Steve McQueen whose blue eyes could make me weep. The license plate on the Bitch Pod is an homage to him and will someday be on a Bullitt Mustang just like he drove in "Bullitt," my favorite movie of his}
{Gerard Butler, who I named the Weekender's office plant after. He is the sexiest man that walks God's green earth methinks. And I know he will be mine someday, oh yes, he will be mine someday}

and
{Bret Michaels of Poison. What can I say? I'm a sucker for blue-eyed blonde boys. The above photo was my favorite of the 127 I push-pinned to my wall growing up}

Other men I've loved:

{Robert Plant, then and now, who I would let slap me with a mudshark any day of the week}

{Chris Noth, who will always be Mr. Big to me}

{Mel Gibson, because 1. He was my first serious crush; 2. I had my first sexual dream about him, and 3. He has McQueen and Michaels-esque blue eyes}

{Cary Grant because all woman should love a man like him, and all men should try their damnedest to be and dress half as debonair as him}

{Franklin D. Roosevelt. 'Nuff said.}

{Jack Kerouac because reading "On The Road" inspired me so much I went back to school to be a writer, thus changing my life}

{Dracula, because seriously, what's not to love?}

{And of course, the men who have always been there long after the others, my beloved older brother Michael and my beloved Papa. Long may the future men in my life try to live up to the standards set by the two of you}

You say "child-less." I say "child-free."

2009-07-24T19:25:00.004-04:00

"It is dangerous to confuse children with angels."
~~~~ David Fyfe

It's a well-known fact that I am not the most patient person in the world.
It may also be widely known that I can, in fact, err on the side of - gasp - bitchy.

But what might come as a surprise, especially considering I am a single woman who is past the age of 30, is that I am not a fan of children.

At all.

Sure, I've had good friends and coworkers who've had children and I've enjoyed watching those children grow up, but being a mom just isn't for me.

I often wonder, as I did this evening as I wandered through Target, how parents do it.
{Back story: Every single time I shop at Target I am surrounded by children screaming bloody murder. I don't know what the store does to them, especially since I am always pretty happy to be shopping there myself, but it's bloodcurdlingly ridiculous.}

"A child is a curly, dimpled lunatic."
~~~~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

It was so horribly noisy on today's trip I almost wish I had a Xanax to take.
It got me to thinking.
What would I do if I were a parent?
Does that inner anger I felt today go away when it's your own kid?
I'd like to think that I sure as hell wouldn't let my kids carry on the way I've been appalled to see time and time again.

I've been told that the pixie version of Nikki threw a tantrum or two, but it was something Mommalah never tolerated for longer than a minute.
Granted, I grew up in the days you were allowed to spank kids - which you should still be allowed to do, given the jerk kids I've seen in my day - but my parents took my brother and I out to fancy dinners and we never, ever misbehaved.
Not out of fear, mind you, but out of respect.
{But there is a story where Mommalah infamously dropped trou on my brother right in the middle of the Wyoming Valley Mall back when there used to be fountains. She sat herself right on the side of one and let him have it for being bold. He he. Never mind that there was one instance the dropped trou offender was me. That's moot.}

That's how we were raised. To be humans. To behave in public. To speak when spoken to. And that's carried over into both of our adult lives.

When I was 14, my parents got me my beloved dog, Zakk. A boisterous and bold yellow Lab who could have used a few spankings himself.

He saved me from myself. He taught me how to love and care for something other than myself at a very crucial point in my development, and that too carried over into my adulthood.

I nurtured and cared for Zakk until the day he died 14 years after we got him, exactly half of my life at that point, and I've nurtured and cared for sick parents, boyfriends and friends, so it's not that I am a cold-hearted bitch - which I suppose is debatable depending on our relationship.

I admit I've heard that "tick-tock, tick-tock" bellow maybe once or twice - and even have had names picked out since I was 10 like any good girl - but it goes away right quick. And to be quite frank, I never imagined I would love a kid as much as I loved my Zakk. He was my kid and his death devastated my family and I.

Every time I see a parent with a bad child, or hear an "Ethan, no. ETHAN. Ethan NO!" or similar, I cringe. Would I be able to hold back the scream I, an innocently-shopping bystander, want to let out at that kid that's not mine?

Or would I be the one cooing "Shh" and looking around smugly like my child was made out of gold? I shudder to think.

I raise a toast to myself - and anyone else who doesn't really feel like they're missing out.
Yet.

"If a child annoys you, quiet him by brushing his hair. If this doesn't work, use the other side of the brush on the other end of the child."
~~~~ Anonymous

"Spirit on the water ..."

2009-07-18T11:25:00.002-04:00

" ... darkness on the face of the deep."

I'm going to see the prolific poet Bob Dylan tonight at Bethel Woods on the grounds of the original Woodstock.

The title of this entry is the title of my favorite Dylan song.
I find it so rustically romantic - the first time I heard it, I got chills.

"Spirit On The Water"

Spirit on the water
Darkness on the face of the deep
I keep thinking about you baby
I can hardly sleep

I'm traveling by land
Traveling through the dawn of day
You're always on my mind
I can't stay away

I had forgotten about you
Then you turned up again
I always knew
We were meant to be more than friends

When you're near
It's just as plain as it can be
I'm wild about you, girl
You ought to be a fool about me

Can't explain
The sources of this hidden pain
You burned your way into my heart
You got the key to my brain

I've been trampling through mud
Praying to the powers above
I'm sweating blood
You got a face that begs for love

Life without you
Doesn't mean a thing to me
If I can't have you
I'll throw my love into the deep blue sea

Sometimes I wonder
Why you can't treat me right
You do good all day
And then you do wrong all night

When you're with me
I'm a thousand times happier than I could ever say
What does it matter
What price I pay?

They brag about your sugar
Brag about it all over town
Put some sugar in my bowl
I feel like laying down

I'm as pale as a ghost
Holding a blossom on a stem
You ever seen a ghost?
No, but you have heard of them

I see you there
I'm blinded by the colors I see
I'll take good care
Of what belongs to me

I hear your name
Ringing up and down the line
I'm saying it plain
These ties are strong enough to bind

Now your sweet voice
Calls out from some old familiar shrine
I've got no choice
Can't believe these things would ever fade from your mind

I could live forever
With you perfectly
You don't ever
Have to make a fuss over me

From East to West
Ever since the world began
I only mean it for the best
I want to be with you in any way that I can

I've been in a brawl
Now I'm feeling the wall
I'm going away baby
I won't be back until fall

High on the hill
You can carry all my thoughts with you
You've numbed my will
This love could tear me in two

I want be with you in paradise
And it seems so unfair
I can't go to paradise no more
I killed a man back there

You think I'm over the hill
You think I'm past my prime
Let me see what you got
We can have a whopping good time

{~~Lyrics courtesy AZLyrics.com}

Sigh. Who doesn't want to be loved like that?

Bob Dylan is truly is the Poet Laureate - with a whole lot of attitude and the soul of, well, a poet.

I'm a loser - YAY!

2009-07-16T20:14:00.003-04:00

For the first time in, well, ever, I was excited to get on the scale this past Monday morning.

I totally worked my ass off last week and really managed my eating and alas,
I am FOUR POUNDS lighter!

I cannot even express how awesome it feels!
I've seen a dramatic change in my body already, which is great, but most importantly, with how I've been carrying myself.
Plus, my outlook on life has really been rosy.
{knock wood!}

This week, due to a completely crazy and hectic work schedule (that was kinda awesome now that I've lived through it), I've not been able to work out at all and it's driving me nuts, but I didn't let it derail the rest of my healthy goals.

I ate right - even today at Cracker Barrel where the Grandpa's breakfast taunted me like it always does, as did the hash brown casserole.
{Dear God do I love CB's hashbrown casserole!}

Instead, I opted for a grilled chicken salad with pineapple, pecans and tomatoes with pineapple ranch dressing on the side - which I will have you know I dipped my fork in instead of sloshing all over the salad.

Tomorrow I'll finally be able to get back on the Air Climber and I actually can't wait so that I can continue being a loser come Monday!

Progress!

2009-07-09T21:05:00.005-04:00

I have been eating healthy all week long.
I walked two miles on both Monday and Tuesday, then did a kick ass 20 minutes of Air Climbing on Sunday and Wednesday - plus did abs all four days.

I feel great, really, really watched what I ate and as a result, I saw the scale go down consistently every day.
{Kindly don't judge me weighing myself daily. It was an experiment, an experiment I say!}

When I craved sugar, I had one of the sugar free chocolate pudding cups I've come to adore with a dollop of Cool Whip in the can.
{It still baffles me that it tastes exactly like Cool Whip in the tub. Magic. Magic!}

Last night, I made myself gosh darn proud.
After dinner with my coworkers, I was mad craving a Dairy Queen Blizzard.
I mean so mad craving I thought I was going to pass out if I didn't have one.

From where we had dinner, there were two DQs within a 5 1/2 minute drive, with my house in the middle.
It was like a Choose Your Own Adventure Book as I drove down South Main Street and around Wilkes-Barre's Public Square. Did I want to:

A.) Go around the Square to the left and head to the Kingston DQ
OR
B.) Go around the Square to the right and head to the Plains DQ
OR
C.) Go straight around the Square and head home????

It was the [at least] 300 calorie question.

I chose C.) and got to the light where I would make the right turn that would take me to my street. But instead of making that right turn, I went left and headed to my local grocer.
{I told you I was having a mad craving.}

Walking up and down the ice cream aisle, I saw cheap half gallons quite like those of the Chocolate Marshmallow Incident that made my craving worsen. I knew I couldn't buy one of them again because it would totally derail the mindset I'm working so hard to set.

I saw the pints Ben & Jerry's I used to eat for dinner practically every night back in high school that I'd never gain an ounce from.

I saw the super-expensive Weight Watchers ice cream I really like but am too much of a miser to buy.

I kept coming back to the Skinny Cow ice cream sandwiches. The bright green mint ones. They looked so, so, SO good, but for $4, I just couldn't do it. It's ice cream for the love of Moses - i c e c r e a m!

But there I was plunking down the dough before driving home as fast as humanly possible.
I got in my jammies, sat at the kitchen table and opened the plastic container of two-points-each-goodness and took my first bite.

It was exquisite.
I savored that chocolaty minty wonder for as long as I could until it dripped down my arm.
{Of course I licked my arm. Waste not, want not and all that jazz.}

I was so proud of myself.
I exorcised the craving demon I've always caved into before.
When I scampered back into the kitchen with the intent to have a second sandwich, I slammed the freezer door shut and loudly said, "No!" - and actually listened for the first time.

I think I finally am making a break with my obsession with food.
And it tastes good.
Like minty goodness that's bad for me.
Except that it isn't!

"Le Penseur."

2009-07-05T12:22:00.007-04:00

I have been feeling very introspective lately.

Which is really hard to juggle with my exhausting schedule right now, but I'm trying to balance it.

I feel like I am on the cusp of something big within myself.
{The not knowing what that is exactly kind of makes me anxious, but I'm doing my best to roll with it.}

{As I was reading the Wikipedia entry on Rodin, who sculpted "The Thinker," (or "Le Penseur" if you like to pretend you are fluent in French as I sometimes do), I found myself sitting with hand under chin and realized that position really does help you think better. Internal struggles never felt so comfortable! Who knew?!}

The Fourth of July.

2009-07-04T16:03:00.003-04:00

Ahh, summer's halfway point.
For the first time in seemingly forever, it hasn't rained yet today here in Northeastern Pa - knock wood!

It's cool and breezy, I'm wearing my hair curly today and one of my landlord's kids is frolicking happily in their pool, making me remember when I was that carefree kid who used to swim all summer long many moons ago.

Soon I'll be heading out to a friend's annual backyard BBQ, where there is a perfect view of the fireworks at Kirby Park. There will be booze, beer, good food and a festive spirit.

If a Rocket Pop found itself somehow involved, I would be super-stoked, or, oh my golly, if I could melt one into vodka!

Hope you and yours has a safe and happy Fourth!
Let's enjoy the rest of the summer, shall we?

At my 14th Poison show ...

2009-07-01T20:54:00.003-04:00

*Note: If you read my previous post about my eternal love for Poison, you will understand. If you did not, well, I went to my 14th Poison concert on Sunday, June 28 at the Toyota Pavilion at Montage Mountain in Scranton (or Moosic, if you will). We all have our own, how do you say, certain something, n'est-ce pas? What follows are the things that happened during that show, which also included openers Cheap Trick (who Poison followed) and Def Leppard).*

- I got to hear Def Leppard sound check "Hysteria" while people started lining up outside the gates.

- I got to go inside before the gates opened to hear and watch Def Leppard sound check "Two Steps Behind."

- While watching Def Leppard during said sound check, Poison bassist Bobby Dall got off a golf cart and walked right by me. I squealed internally.

- Went back outside to receive a backstage pass (pictured below) to meet Bobby because my editor interviewed him for the Weekender and was kind enough to let me tag along.

- Some random things I spotted before Cheap Trick went on: a guy in a long Cheap Trick jean jacket, a fanny pack with fringe and a skullet. And these were only the standouts. Imagine what else these Bambi brown eyes saw!

- After Poison's set, editor and I headed backstage, where we were told our passes were good until 9:15 p.m. and let into the backstage area without any sort of supervision. I promptly found a restroom to use because I was so excited I had to pee.

- Wandered around the buses and Def Leppard drummer Rick Allen walked by, to which editor said "Hey Rick" nonchalantly. We both squealed internally. Well, at least I did. Again.

- Poison guitarist C.C. DeVille walked past us. I said "Hi C.C." as nonchalantly as editor greeted Rick, like I see him in the hall at work every day. I squealed internally again.

- Editor and I wandered aimlessly around until we spotted an official looking dude in a Poison button-down shirt leading a few people to the dressing rooms area we saw C.C. disappear toward.

- We hang out behind them as C.C. comes out to greet them. He was wearing platform shoes and his hair was still all haphazard spiky, which all made him appear taller than he actually is.

- As we patiently wait our turn, we spot Def Leppard singer Joe Elliot and guitarist Vivian Campbell walking near their dressing rooms.

- When C.C. is done with those people, he looks at us briefly, walks back into his dressing room and slams the door. I say "Prick" internally.

- As we leave, the perpetually shirtless (and dare I say sexily ripped) Def Leppard guitarist Phil Collen wanders into the craft tent.

- We head toward said tent and find a very kind girl in a button-down Poison shirt who helps us find Bobby, who is with his 18-year-old son Zach and handler Rob.

- Editor tells Bobby his name and he immediately tells editor how much he enjoyed the article. Said he picked it up while walking past the Marquee Theater in Scranton from the hotel (they stayed at the Radisson Lackawanna, by the way).

- Editor introduces me and as Bobby shakes my hand, I blurt out “This is my 14th Poison show” and he laughs and wonders how many he’s been to.

- He was so friendly, appreciate and cool that he posed for this picture ...

... before asking another handler to lead him to Bret. (We heard from a very reliable source that Bret decided to show up to the show about half hour before it began. And that his bus pulled a trailer with his own image on it. This did not make me squeal internally. In fact, I daresay it made me like him a little less.)

- After Bobby left, we spoke to his son and Rob before heading back out into the crowd to catch Def Leppard's set.

What a fanflippingtastic way to celebrate such a momentous occasion!
Fin.

Food. Food. Fooooood.

2009-06-30T21:00:00.003-04:00

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.}

For Poison, who I will always always ALWAYS love.

2009-06-26T22:52:00.006-04:00

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.}

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.}

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. }

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.}

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.

Dressy thinspiration.

2009-06-25T16:58:00.003-04:00

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.

An ode to my stuffed rabbit Freddy.

2009-06-21T20:23:00.010-04:00

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.

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.

Fin.

Who'll stop the rain?

2009-06-20T11:24:00.004-04:00

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.

Or, at the very least, take a Xanax.}

One of Those Days. (Thankfully.)

2009-06-15T21:55:00.003-04:00

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.

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

2009-06-14T21:09:00.005-04:00

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.

Happy List for Saturday June 13, 2009

2009-06-13T15:48:00.002-04:00

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)