Yesterday while at work 4 colleagues of mine came into the showroom. They came in pairs. The first 2 and I decided to order lunch for everyone, knowing the other 2 were on their way. 2 of the 4 colleagues I'm friends with, one friend, the other very good friend. (I promise I'm getting at something here, just bear with me.) The one very good friend and I walk to the Thai restaurant to pick up our lunch order. It's a 2 block walk and we chat the whole way there, chat while we stand in the foyer waiting for our food, and chat on the way back. My other 2 colleagues have arrived in the showroom when we return, I say hello, give my other friend give him a kiss on the cheek and he immediately points to my teeth and says, "You have something stuck in between your teeth." I gasp! I'm humiliated! I take my finger and start scraping at whatever particle is sitting there rotting away in my mouth. He's watching me the entire time. I flash my not so pearly whites again and he says, "Nope, it's still there." I'm back to the scraping, this time really digging, not caring at all what I'm doing to my fingernails or to my teeth. I give him one more huge cheesy grin and he tells me I got it! Phew! Victorious! I later say to my colleague, the very good friend who I had talked to all morning, "Why didn't you tell me I had something stuck in my teeth?" He says, "I didn't want to embarrass you." I politely thank him, thinking that I was embarrassed when my other friend pointed the grotesque piece out to me. However, after thinking about all the clients I had talked to that morning with this object stuck in my teeth since, most likely breakfast, I get even more angry! Isn't that what friends are for? Shouldn't we all tell each other when we have something stuck in our teeth?
This morning on the train into the city, it's cold outside, so I'm all bundled up, hat, scarf, gloves, the works. I sit down in my train seat, a 2 seater facing a 3 seater. It's now warm on the train so I take off my hat and gloves. I see the guy sitting across from me, decent looking guy, sort of, you know, staring at me. I'm slightly flattered, but listen buddy, back off! I'm married! He obviously hasn't noticed my ring. I politely give him a half-smile and crank up the tunes on my iPod. He looks as if he is going to say something to me so in order to avoid an awkward conversation, and actually, conversation in general on the 8 AM train, I adjust my earphones and close my eyes for the next 30 minutes into Grand Central. Upon arrival into the station, I open up my eyes and the guy is still looking like he has something to say! The train comes to a stop, we both stand up at the same time and he finally says, "You have something stuck in your hair!" Again, humiliation. Is this the reason the guy has been staring at me? Immediately I grasp for my hair, but find nothing. He says, "No, it's still there." I try again, but this time, he moves my hand, reaches for my hair and gets it himself! Uh....what is going on? He was right, it was a large white fuzz from my winter hat, but is it me or does anyone else agree that it was pretty weird for him to remove the item from hair? I think I turned at least 37 different shades of red before I thanked him and ran off the train. (Careful, to watch the crack between the train and the platform.)
This brings me to my question. Is the proper thing to tell a perfect stranger if they have something in their teeth, their hair, etc? Or is that something that should be left to a friend? Like the other day in the showroom, a man walked in with his zipper completely down. Yep, wide open. I was tempted to tell him, but refrained, thinking that telling a man his zipper was down might be construed as inappropriate. Another day on the train, I was sitting across from a woman who had an obvious black mascara smudge on her face. She was a cute, huge pregnant woman, who I probably should have told that she had mascara on her face, but didn't because again, I was a stranger. But the more I think about it, as weird as the moment was, I truly did appreciate the stranger on the train removing the white fuzz from my hair.
My solution is, for now, I am going to say it would be okay if I had told the man about his zipper as long as I didn't zip it up for him. Or if I told the woman about her mascara, as long as I didn't lick my thumb like my mother used to do and wipe it off her face. People say, carrying mirrors in pockets is a sign of vanity. I think it's a sign of intelligence. One never knows when they might have something stuck in their teeth.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
Beauty is Pain
This past Friday I did something I haven't done in a very long time. I called in sick AND I wasn't even sick. Gasp! I know you all must be so disappointed. The funny thing is, growing up I used to always play "hookey" from school. So much to the point that I had to have a parent teacher conference with the principal of the school saying that I had to come to school or they were going to have to hold me back. Hellz no! There was only one thing worse than going to school and that was repeating a grade. Once my parents actually switched me into a school that I liked I stopped playing hookey until I got to college. Here is where I realized I didn't even have to play sick, I could just NOT go to class. However, this time, there were no parent teacher conferences, just the tell tale grades I received after my first semester. "Oh, so this is what happens when you don't go to class?" I realized now being old and wise that when I enjoy something whether it's school or a job, I go to it and will excell at it, but when I don't enjoy it, I could really care less. Sorry, all of this leading up to why it was shocking that I actually called in sick this past Friday. I had a scheduled doctor's appointment, but didn't want to use my personal/sick days for a measley doctor's appointment. I also needed a well-deserved break from my job, yes selling dishwashers can be stressful.
So, first stop, Westport Connecticut, to see my dermatologist. I have been seeing this dermatologist for the past 4 years now and feel I have established a small bond with him. He's a great guy, young, not overly handsome, but his personality makes him adorable, very charming. My visit today was due to a small breakout of pimples on my cheek. Granted, all my life I have been blessed with good skin, of course an occasional zit will appear, but nothing drastic. So my doctor laughs when I tell him the reason for my visit is a bad breakout, according to him it's nothing. He takes a quick look at my face, writes up a few prescriptions, one a pill, the other a topical cream and tells me he can get rid of the biggest zit that is sitting in the middle of my cheek. I say, "Get rid of it?" He says, "Yes, darling. I'll inject it with a needle, pop what's inside of there and dry it up. It will be gone by tomorrow morning." Llaaaahhh (read this word while imagining my cute doctor enveloped by a bright light behind him)! This doctor truly is a miracle worker! Who knew you could get rid of a huge zit in less that 24 hours by injecting it with a needle. Wait! Did he say needle? I hate needles! So I ask, "Does it hurt?" He smirks and says, "Beauty is Pain, my dear, beauty is pain." My vanity takes over and I decide to go for the injection. While I'm waiting for the good doctor to come back into the room. I'm reading a sign on the wall advertising the services of my dermatologist's office: Restylane, Botox, Spider vein removal, some other items I don't remember, and laser hair removal. I have always had what I like to call "peach fuzz" so after I am shot in the cheek with a needle to get rid of my zit (During which my doctor tells me how 14-16 year old girls come into his office on almost a daily basis to have this procedure done because not only are they in their teens and breaking out with pimples, they also, well, live in Westport. Unreal.) I decide to broach the subject of laser hair removal. He in his very charming way (use of sarcasm here) tells me that laser hair removal works wonders on people with dark hair, but does not do anything for peach fuzz. He says "for peach fuzz, you need to wax." He grabs my chin, turns my head to the left then to the right and says, "wax, wax, wax!" Here's the real kicker, he then tells me however he has another injection he can use on me to get rid of my frown lines around my mouth! What??
"How old are you" he asks.
"I'll be 30 in July" I reply.
He kindly says, "Yep. It's about that time. I don't know what it is, but something is going on with your body, excess peach fuzz, zits, and lines around your mouth. Come back in a few months if you want to take care of those lines."
Beauty is pain I remind myself as I check out with the receptionist and make an appointment to come back in a few months...Beauty is Pain.....
So, first stop, Westport Connecticut, to see my dermatologist. I have been seeing this dermatologist for the past 4 years now and feel I have established a small bond with him. He's a great guy, young, not overly handsome, but his personality makes him adorable, very charming. My visit today was due to a small breakout of pimples on my cheek. Granted, all my life I have been blessed with good skin, of course an occasional zit will appear, but nothing drastic. So my doctor laughs when I tell him the reason for my visit is a bad breakout, according to him it's nothing. He takes a quick look at my face, writes up a few prescriptions, one a pill, the other a topical cream and tells me he can get rid of the biggest zit that is sitting in the middle of my cheek. I say, "Get rid of it?" He says, "Yes, darling. I'll inject it with a needle, pop what's inside of there and dry it up. It will be gone by tomorrow morning." Llaaaahhh (read this word while imagining my cute doctor enveloped by a bright light behind him)! This doctor truly is a miracle worker! Who knew you could get rid of a huge zit in less that 24 hours by injecting it with a needle. Wait! Did he say needle? I hate needles! So I ask, "Does it hurt?" He smirks and says, "Beauty is Pain, my dear, beauty is pain." My vanity takes over and I decide to go for the injection. While I'm waiting for the good doctor to come back into the room. I'm reading a sign on the wall advertising the services of my dermatologist's office: Restylane, Botox, Spider vein removal, some other items I don't remember, and laser hair removal. I have always had what I like to call "peach fuzz" so after I am shot in the cheek with a needle to get rid of my zit (During which my doctor tells me how 14-16 year old girls come into his office on almost a daily basis to have this procedure done because not only are they in their teens and breaking out with pimples, they also, well, live in Westport. Unreal.) I decide to broach the subject of laser hair removal. He in his very charming way (use of sarcasm here) tells me that laser hair removal works wonders on people with dark hair, but does not do anything for peach fuzz. He says "for peach fuzz, you need to wax." He grabs my chin, turns my head to the left then to the right and says, "wax, wax, wax!" Here's the real kicker, he then tells me however he has another injection he can use on me to get rid of my frown lines around my mouth! What??
"How old are you" he asks.
"I'll be 30 in July" I reply.
He kindly says, "Yep. It's about that time. I don't know what it is, but something is going on with your body, excess peach fuzz, zits, and lines around your mouth. Come back in a few months if you want to take care of those lines."
Beauty is pain I remind myself as I check out with the receptionist and make an appointment to come back in a few months...Beauty is Pain.....
Monday, March 16, 2009
Weekend Fun-k
Monday morning I woke up, hopped in the shower, dreading the day ahead of me. While in the shower, I plan what I am going to wear to work. I feel as if I have a whole new wardrobe to choose from as I spent all Sunday evening ironing. I decide on my staple (and always a fave) grey pants, white shirt and green sweater. I have to admit, the reason why these pants are a fave are NOT because of their stunning looks, but because they are a true size 2 and still fit me great. Not too tight, not too big, not too long, just right. Even more, I'm feeling quite confident that my ass is going to look damn good in these pants because I have now been to my Physique 57 class 6 days in a row. So I pull the pants off the hanger, put my right leg in, then the left, do a little shimmie to get them up over my thighs and butt and.....screeeeeeching halt....when I go to button them, they are snug!! What the F? Haven't I been working my ass off for the past week? I mean literally working my ass off? I do the ol' inhale and button maneuver and pray the button doesn't pop because I am going to wear these size 2s if it kills me! I convince myself that it must be muscle weight since I have been working out so much and it has nothing to do with the shit that I ate over the weekend.
So, the weekend......Friday night we decided to go out for dinner. We went to our new favorite restaurant in Bronxville, Sammy's Downtown. It's filled with snobby old money folk and plenty of snobby new money too. I guess the question really is what were my husband and I doing there? Well, I'll tell ya, good atmosphere, good drinks and delicious food! And I little bit of, "we like to act like we are from Bronxville". I ordered a delicious roasted beets salad for an appetizer and mushroom risotto for my entree. I have never ordered anything but the risotto and again I wasn't disappointed. However, my favorite part of the evening was the red bordeaux. I certainly would not call myself a sommelier, but I do enjoy a good glass of wine and this my friends, was a great glass of wine. Of course after I gulped my first glass down, I ordered another. My husband and I were enjoying ourselves so much we decided to continue the evening at the bar where we ordered ourselves another glass of delicious Bordeaux and met the most delightful bartender, Dana. Actually, delightful isn't the best word to describe Dana. She very well might be the brashest young lady I have ever met. But in a stuffy uptight restaurant such as Sammy's Downtown, she was a breath of fresh air. In the time it took my husband and I to drink our glass of wine (which wasn't very long), we found out that Dana was born and raised in Mount Vernon (although she sounded like she grew up in hard-core Brooklyn), went to a private highschool, worked 3 jobs, loves smoking pot and was hoping to get laid that night by her ex-boyfriend whose nickname was the "mankiller". After our glass of wine at the bar (which would make for a total of 3 so far) and a little too much info on Dana we decided to leave.
We walk past "the" Bronxville bar where we normally go for a great time. As we peered thru the all glass front windows we notice the bar is jamming. We couldn't possibly pass up on perfect opportunity for Bronxville gossip, could we? No way! We stumble inside and immediately find ourselves a seat at the bar. The bar area is quite small, but no one sits at this bar, they mingle which allows for my husband and I to sit and observe. In this case, observe is more of a polite way to describe people watching. A little background on this bar: my husband and I have been going to this bar for quite some time and each time we went we noticed the same people there. I repeatedly said, "each person had a story" at this bar. Sure enough, a few months back an old man named Jack (a regular at the bar) gave us the low-down on each person there. And just as expected, they all had a story, from the owner who had his heart broken by his fiancee (and also had a brain tumor removed), and his ex-future father-in-law who still comes to the bar and is upset the owner won't speak to him; to the bartender who just donated a kidney to his father; to the local real estate agent who has slept with every guy in the bar; to the "happily" married couple that are each sleeping with other people who are also in the bar; to the couple who are dating but the guy still has yet to finalize his divorce from his wife and is suspected he's sleeping with another woman at the bar. It's classic and the exact mindless entertainment I am looking for on a Friday night. However this Friday night was even better than the last time we were there. All of the craziness was at its peak as the bar was hosting a fundraiser, 25% of the bar proceeds were going to a charity. So, my husband and I sat at the bar ordered ourselves a glass of wine and then another glass and watched the chaos around us. My husband and I don't say a word to each other, he is perfectly content watching the basketball game on TV, I am in the highlight of my glory creating even more stories for each person there.
That's a total of 5 glasses of wine if you were counting.....
So, the weekend......Friday night we decided to go out for dinner. We went to our new favorite restaurant in Bronxville, Sammy's Downtown. It's filled with snobby old money folk and plenty of snobby new money too. I guess the question really is what were my husband and I doing there? Well, I'll tell ya, good atmosphere, good drinks and delicious food! And I little bit of, "we like to act like we are from Bronxville". I ordered a delicious roasted beets salad for an appetizer and mushroom risotto for my entree. I have never ordered anything but the risotto and again I wasn't disappointed. However, my favorite part of the evening was the red bordeaux. I certainly would not call myself a sommelier, but I do enjoy a good glass of wine and this my friends, was a great glass of wine. Of course after I gulped my first glass down, I ordered another. My husband and I were enjoying ourselves so much we decided to continue the evening at the bar where we ordered ourselves another glass of delicious Bordeaux and met the most delightful bartender, Dana. Actually, delightful isn't the best word to describe Dana. She very well might be the brashest young lady I have ever met. But in a stuffy uptight restaurant such as Sammy's Downtown, she was a breath of fresh air. In the time it took my husband and I to drink our glass of wine (which wasn't very long), we found out that Dana was born and raised in Mount Vernon (although she sounded like she grew up in hard-core Brooklyn), went to a private highschool, worked 3 jobs, loves smoking pot and was hoping to get laid that night by her ex-boyfriend whose nickname was the "mankiller". After our glass of wine at the bar (which would make for a total of 3 so far) and a little too much info on Dana we decided to leave.
We walk past "the" Bronxville bar where we normally go for a great time. As we peered thru the all glass front windows we notice the bar is jamming. We couldn't possibly pass up on perfect opportunity for Bronxville gossip, could we? No way! We stumble inside and immediately find ourselves a seat at the bar. The bar area is quite small, but no one sits at this bar, they mingle which allows for my husband and I to sit and observe. In this case, observe is more of a polite way to describe people watching. A little background on this bar: my husband and I have been going to this bar for quite some time and each time we went we noticed the same people there. I repeatedly said, "each person had a story" at this bar. Sure enough, a few months back an old man named Jack (a regular at the bar) gave us the low-down on each person there. And just as expected, they all had a story, from the owner who had his heart broken by his fiancee (and also had a brain tumor removed), and his ex-future father-in-law who still comes to the bar and is upset the owner won't speak to him; to the bartender who just donated a kidney to his father; to the local real estate agent who has slept with every guy in the bar; to the "happily" married couple that are each sleeping with other people who are also in the bar; to the couple who are dating but the guy still has yet to finalize his divorce from his wife and is suspected he's sleeping with another woman at the bar. It's classic and the exact mindless entertainment I am looking for on a Friday night. However this Friday night was even better than the last time we were there. All of the craziness was at its peak as the bar was hosting a fundraiser, 25% of the bar proceeds were going to a charity. So, my husband and I sat at the bar ordered ourselves a glass of wine and then another glass and watched the chaos around us. My husband and I don't say a word to each other, he is perfectly content watching the basketball game on TV, I am in the highlight of my glory creating even more stories for each person there.
That's a total of 5 glasses of wine if you were counting.....
Friday, March 13, 2009
Bill Clinton and Tacos
Ok, get your minds out of the gutter! If the title was Bill Clinton and Cigars, then I wouldn't blame you, but tacos? Come on, nothing dirty here! I assure you the title is purely innocent.
I realize while starting this new post that I skipped a day. I remember now it was a bad day of food and a few crazy customers, but nothing to, as the saying goes, write home about. So on to yesterday's events. As for my "diet", I stuck with eating small meals/snacks every 3 hours and I have noticed my hunger pangs inbetween those 3 hours slowly dissipating. Phew! There is nothing more embarrassing than talking to a customer and your stomach is growling so loud it sounds as if an 18 wheeler is driving right by you! (18 wheelers, do New Yorkers know what those are? If not, let me know and I'll tell you.)
Speaking of clients I need to touch on something. I have only been in the corporate world for approximately 3 years and as of late I have been experiencing the true definition of "dog eat dog". I won't bore you with all of my corporate world stories, but will someone please tell me why or how complete idiots are able to climb the corporate ladder at such a rapid pace and us smart ones, are still hanging on to the bottom rung. I think I can answer my own question, to move up in the world, you've gotta throw others under the bus! I recently found out a good friend of mine was fired, not from the company where I work, from another company that works in conjunction with me. I was devastated by the news. What's even worse, is yesterday his counterpart came into the showroom bragging to me that he was the one who got my friend fired, for no reason, but the fact that he couldn't have my friend standing in his way of future promotions! What??? I was in complete shock and even more amazed that this guy had no qualms about telling me he's the one who got him fired! Did it not occur to him that I was friends with the guy? No, this guy is a clueless idiot who will never make anything of himself unless he gets rid of anyone that is better than him. Which in my opinion, is EVERYONE! I hate idiotic people.
Sorry, enough of my soap box. You are probably wondering what any of this has to do with Bill Clinton, right? Nothing, absolutely nothing. I'll get to that part now. So I'm leaving my exercise class (yes that's 3 days in a row), walking down 54th street in between Madison and Park Avenues. The light is green at Madison, but the guy in the car at the light is not going anywhere. Of course in classic NYC style the horns are blasting. I look up to see why the guy isn't moving and realize there is a traffic jam ahead. I notice there are 2 Escalades parked in the middle of 54th street, both with red and blue flashing lights. Hmmm, I wonder what is going on? I proceed past Madison and notice 8 huge body guards, 2 at each corner of the front Escalade, all with the security earpieces on. Could it possibly be President Obama? There is a small crowd gathering, but nothing like a crowd when you see Angelina. I'm in a rush to catch the train, but slow down as I approach the front Escalade. The back seat passenger door is opened and I glance inside. There is an old man (grey/white hair) sitting and reading some papers, leg dangling out the side where the door is open. Shucks, no one important. I start to walk a few more feet when I see the body guards shuffle. I pause to try and get one more glimpse and I realize is it none other than...wait for it (thank you Barney Stinson)...the former president, Bill Clinton! My first reaction is wow, he looks like shit. Then I hear this woman yell, "Looking good Bill!" I want to yell, "Eat a steak", but refrain. And just so I wasn't disappointed, Bill looks right at me, waves and then gives me a one of a kind Bill Clinton thumbs up. Perfect!
What does any of this have to do with tacos? Again, nothing. Tacos are what I made for dinner. A homemade taco dinner is my idea of comfort food and seeing Bill Clinton was a reason to make tacos......
I realize while starting this new post that I skipped a day. I remember now it was a bad day of food and a few crazy customers, but nothing to, as the saying goes, write home about. So on to yesterday's events. As for my "diet", I stuck with eating small meals/snacks every 3 hours and I have noticed my hunger pangs inbetween those 3 hours slowly dissipating. Phew! There is nothing more embarrassing than talking to a customer and your stomach is growling so loud it sounds as if an 18 wheeler is driving right by you! (18 wheelers, do New Yorkers know what those are? If not, let me know and I'll tell you.)
Speaking of clients I need to touch on something. I have only been in the corporate world for approximately 3 years and as of late I have been experiencing the true definition of "dog eat dog". I won't bore you with all of my corporate world stories, but will someone please tell me why or how complete idiots are able to climb the corporate ladder at such a rapid pace and us smart ones, are still hanging on to the bottom rung. I think I can answer my own question, to move up in the world, you've gotta throw others under the bus! I recently found out a good friend of mine was fired, not from the company where I work, from another company that works in conjunction with me. I was devastated by the news. What's even worse, is yesterday his counterpart came into the showroom bragging to me that he was the one who got my friend fired, for no reason, but the fact that he couldn't have my friend standing in his way of future promotions! What??? I was in complete shock and even more amazed that this guy had no qualms about telling me he's the one who got him fired! Did it not occur to him that I was friends with the guy? No, this guy is a clueless idiot who will never make anything of himself unless he gets rid of anyone that is better than him. Which in my opinion, is EVERYONE! I hate idiotic people.
Sorry, enough of my soap box. You are probably wondering what any of this has to do with Bill Clinton, right? Nothing, absolutely nothing. I'll get to that part now. So I'm leaving my exercise class (yes that's 3 days in a row), walking down 54th street in between Madison and Park Avenues. The light is green at Madison, but the guy in the car at the light is not going anywhere. Of course in classic NYC style the horns are blasting. I look up to see why the guy isn't moving and realize there is a traffic jam ahead. I notice there are 2 Escalades parked in the middle of 54th street, both with red and blue flashing lights. Hmmm, I wonder what is going on? I proceed past Madison and notice 8 huge body guards, 2 at each corner of the front Escalade, all with the security earpieces on. Could it possibly be President Obama? There is a small crowd gathering, but nothing like a crowd when you see Angelina. I'm in a rush to catch the train, but slow down as I approach the front Escalade. The back seat passenger door is opened and I glance inside. There is an old man (grey/white hair) sitting and reading some papers, leg dangling out the side where the door is open. Shucks, no one important. I start to walk a few more feet when I see the body guards shuffle. I pause to try and get one more glimpse and I realize is it none other than...wait for it (thank you Barney Stinson)...the former president, Bill Clinton! My first reaction is wow, he looks like shit. Then I hear this woman yell, "Looking good Bill!" I want to yell, "Eat a steak", but refrain. And just so I wasn't disappointed, Bill looks right at me, waves and then gives me a one of a kind Bill Clinton thumbs up. Perfect!
What does any of this have to do with tacos? Again, nothing. Tacos are what I made for dinner. A homemade taco dinner is my idea of comfort food and seeing Bill Clinton was a reason to make tacos......
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
I Did It!
Today I officially accomplished my new lifestyle plan...I did it! I only ate 4 meals instead of 5, but close enough, right? The morning started off very low-key, no pricks sitting across from me on the train. However, I also decided to wait to eat breakfast once I got to my office. Who knows what kind of jerks would have crawled out of the woodwork had I ripped into my granola bar on the train? I had a delicious breakfast of SpecialK strawberry cereal with FRESH strawberries on top. Cereal might be one of my all time favorite comfort foods, but there is no way I could take the SpecialK challenge and eat cereal for breakfast and lunch. I must say the fresh strawberries were a nice added touch. For lunch I had my trusy Lean Cuisine spinach and mushroom pizza and for my 3:00 PM snack I chopped up a pear. The best part of my day was returning to Physique 57! I haven't been there in about 2 weeks and as much as I was dragging myself there, it really was so rewarding. The instructor for the class was my all-time favorite, Alexander, who pointed out loud that my "legs were quivering which is a sign of not working out for a long time". Thanks, Alexander. It's good though, nothing like a little humiliation to get your butt back into gear! When I got home, my husband and I made sandwiches for dinner. I had a delicious vegetarian chicken patty. Is it me or does anyone else think that the contents of a vegetarian chicken patty are probably worse for you than killing and eating an actual chicken?!
All in all, a good day. What is wrong with me, exercise AND no wine?!?
All in all, a good day. What is wrong with me, exercise AND no wine?!?
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Celebrity Sighting = Pizza & Wine
Day 1 of my new "lifestyle" did not go according to plan. It started out okay, but didn't end up with the results that I had hoped. The morning starts off on the train, heading to work. I am minding my own business, rocking out with my iPod (of course at a low vloume), trying to relax as I prepare for yet another day in the appliance world. I reach into my bag to retrieve my first meal of the day, a Kashi TLC Cherry Dark Chocolate granola bar, and the guy sitting across from me on the train gives me a glaring look. I ignore his scowl and open up my granola bar and take a huge bite. This annoys my friendly train companion even more, and with each bite that follows he rolls his eyes. Now, I don't know how many of you have tried the Kashi TLC bars, but they are not that big, so it was only a few moments of eating. I wanted to say to him, "Hey buddy! What the hell is your problem? Am I really making that much noise? Am I chewing with my mouth open? I don't think I am, so why don't you go back to your NY Times paper and mind YOUR own f'ing business!" I have to admit I am not a big fan of people eating on the train, but when I think of eating, I think of the Mexican take-out or the Big-Mac and french fries they just purchased in Grand Central. I don't think eating a tiny prepackaged granola is all that offensive. Please tell me if I'm wrong. I overcome my urge to yell at the guy, but I do sit back, crank up the tunes and revel in my first scrumptious meal of the day.
3 hours later, once at work, I am feeling slightly hungry, it's only 11:30 but to stay on track of my 5 meals a day plan, I go to grab my yogurt out of the refrigerator only to find out I forgot to put it in there. It's still sitting in my bag! I don't know what the protocol is on eating warm yogurt, but it can't be good. I toss it in the trash and opt for a green apple. It's fairly satisfying. Thank goodness I ate it though, because the showroom all of a sudden gets slammed...I mean packed with people, one right after another and I don't even realize that it is now 5:30! Warning, when I don't eat enough during the day, I tend to get very cranky! So to save my husband from the agony of dealing with a cranky wife, I decide to stop and get a bag of chips on my way to the train. I buy a diet coke (caffeine free of course) and a bag of Sun Chips. In my mind Sun Chips are a bit healthier than regular ol' Lay's. I am so excited to rip into my bag of Sun Chips that I run into Mark Consuelos on the sidewalk...literally run into him! I'm a bit dumbfounded as I already have a history of seeing him and his wife at my gym. What's even better is he casually acknowledges me as the chick from his exercise class! I play it cool AND feel cool. I know this seems a bit pretentious, but I don't care. I don't think I'll ever get over celebrity sightings. I'm a Hollywood freak, love TV, love movies and love People magazine. Therefore, I love when I see a celebrity myself.
I immediately call my husband, tell him not to be too jealous as I am again hobnobbing with Mark and then tell him I think this calls for a celebration. I say, "Let's go out to eat!" Funny thing though, my husband and I, 2 NON-practicing Catholics, decided to give up for Lent, going out to dinner during the week. He reminds me of this and I remind him since we are not practicing Catholics we technically don't need to give up anything for Lent! Really, it's all about me wanting to NOT cook dinner because I am famished. He agrees and we then head to our favorite local pizza joint where I devour 2 pieces of bread (with butter), 1/2 of a caesar salad, and 2 delicous pieces of pizza drizzled in pesto and sundried tomato sauce. I am dying to go for my 3rd piece but restrain only because I wanted to finish my glass of wine! Didn't I say I was going to try to give up alcohol for the week? I tell myself, "but it's a celebration!" Tomorrow is another day.....
3 hours later, once at work, I am feeling slightly hungry, it's only 11:30 but to stay on track of my 5 meals a day plan, I go to grab my yogurt out of the refrigerator only to find out I forgot to put it in there. It's still sitting in my bag! I don't know what the protocol is on eating warm yogurt, but it can't be good. I toss it in the trash and opt for a green apple. It's fairly satisfying. Thank goodness I ate it though, because the showroom all of a sudden gets slammed...I mean packed with people, one right after another and I don't even realize that it is now 5:30! Warning, when I don't eat enough during the day, I tend to get very cranky! So to save my husband from the agony of dealing with a cranky wife, I decide to stop and get a bag of chips on my way to the train. I buy a diet coke (caffeine free of course) and a bag of Sun Chips. In my mind Sun Chips are a bit healthier than regular ol' Lay's. I am so excited to rip into my bag of Sun Chips that I run into Mark Consuelos on the sidewalk...literally run into him! I'm a bit dumbfounded as I already have a history of seeing him and his wife at my gym. What's even better is he casually acknowledges me as the chick from his exercise class! I play it cool AND feel cool. I know this seems a bit pretentious, but I don't care. I don't think I'll ever get over celebrity sightings. I'm a Hollywood freak, love TV, love movies and love People magazine. Therefore, I love when I see a celebrity myself.
I immediately call my husband, tell him not to be too jealous as I am again hobnobbing with Mark and then tell him I think this calls for a celebration. I say, "Let's go out to eat!" Funny thing though, my husband and I, 2 NON-practicing Catholics, decided to give up for Lent, going out to dinner during the week. He reminds me of this and I remind him since we are not practicing Catholics we technically don't need to give up anything for Lent! Really, it's all about me wanting to NOT cook dinner because I am famished. He agrees and we then head to our favorite local pizza joint where I devour 2 pieces of bread (with butter), 1/2 of a caesar salad, and 2 delicous pieces of pizza drizzled in pesto and sundried tomato sauce. I am dying to go for my 3rd piece but restrain only because I wanted to finish my glass of wine! Didn't I say I was going to try to give up alcohol for the week? I tell myself, "but it's a celebration!" Tomorrow is another day.....
Sunday, March 8, 2009
New to blogging
Ok, so today is my first day setting up a blog. I have decided to do a blog regarding my 3 favorite things: 1.) alcohol, 2.) food, and 3.) dishwashers. Well, not neccessarily dishwashers, but appliances which happens to be my career . Alcohol, I enjoy too much and I am going to try to go for a week without having...any. Food, is my passion, but also my nemesis. I am probably the most self-conscious person you will ever meet and battle food every single day. As I said, I work with high-end appliances which allows me to cook on a daily basis. I love exploring recipes, concocting recipes and just throwing food together. Since I was married this past September, I have probably put on about 15 lbs. I should have mentioned I am a vegetarian. (I don't eat eggs, but will drink milk and eat cheese.) I am also one of the worst vegetarians I know, meaning I'm not a huge fan of vegetables, so my diet consists of carbs, sugar, carbs, and a bit of lettuce. Could this possibly be the reason why I have gained 15 lbs in 6 months?
So besides really testing out this site and trying to figure out how to post something, I also want to tell you that my goal in this blog is to document the next few months of exercising, trying to eat 5 small healthy meals a day, eliminating a constant consumption of alcohol AND throwing in some classic appliance stories. I know the last one may sound completely boring, but am I wrong to find fascinating the fact that some people do NOT know the difference between ovens and dishwashers?
Please stay tuned.....
So besides really testing out this site and trying to figure out how to post something, I also want to tell you that my goal in this blog is to document the next few months of exercising, trying to eat 5 small healthy meals a day, eliminating a constant consumption of alcohol AND throwing in some classic appliance stories. I know the last one may sound completely boring, but am I wrong to find fascinating the fact that some people do NOT know the difference between ovens and dishwashers?
Please stay tuned.....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
