tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3923909972874132842024-03-05T14:30:08.553-08:00Naked on a Roller CoasterUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger65125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392390997287413284.post-11860052285370726312015-04-17T14:45:00.000-07:002015-04-17T14:45:02.183-07:00Clean Hosting<div style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span>I find a lot of satisfaction in feeding people and take
great pride in serving mouth-watering meals at my table. Cook and hostess are 2 parts of my identity
that I've cherished since I was a little girl. So when my dairy allergy and
gluten intolerance became undeniable a few years ago (your body has a funny way
of telling you it cannot be ignored any longer,) I was presented with a bit of
a challenge. I wanted to continue to entertain with my usual flare but I also didn't want to have to prepare and struggle through a bevy of temptation every single
time we entertained. I felt a little
selfish removing dairy, wheat and gluten from everything I served – and I assumed
that meant no one would show up for dinner anymore. It was quite an adjustment to learn to eat a
diet (mostly) free of many of the common allergens; I didn't even know where to
start when it came to cooking clean food for discerning guests.</div>
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No one likes putting effort into meals that turn our bland and
boring and there are few things worse after hours of cooking than unsatisfied
family and friends. I can’t enjoy myself
if my guests don’t have happy tummies, so I needed to answer this question: how do I
protect my own health and please others without compromising the cook/hostess
part of my identity?</div>
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It took me a few years to figure out, but I made it my
mission to discover cuisines and cooking methods that allow me to nourish
myself properly and continue to feed my loved ones delicious, fulfilling food. I
now proudly serve 100% completely dairy, gluten and refined sugar –free meals
in my home. And no, my husband is not
miserable or deprived. And yes, people
still love coming to dinner at our house. </div>
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<h3>
My Secrets to Success:</h3>
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<ol>
<li>There are some cuisines (French)
that don’t fare well with substitutions and omissions. Embrace the ones that do
(Asian, Indian, Mediterranean, Middle Eastern) and dine out for a splurge when
you feel you must have the others (Italian).</li>
<li>Use generous doses of herbs and
spices (I use sometimes as much as double what the recipe calls for).</li>
<li>Leverage plenty of healthy fats to
make your meals rich and fulfilling. Avocado and coconut oils are my favorite
cooking oils. Coconut milk makes things wonderfully creamy. Chopped nuts add
great texture to salads or atop a platter of roasted vegetables.</li>
<li>Make things colorful: lots of
bright, beautiful fruits and vegetables make eyes and tummies very happy.</li>
<li>Use the freshest, cleanest
ingredients available within your budget. In-season produce and high-quality
meats will always taste noticeably better.</li>
<li>Call a spade a spade. Don’t try to present a raw coconut macaroon
to guests as dinner and call it an Almond Joy. It pisses people off and leaves
them wanting a real Almond Joy.</li>
<li>Be reasonable. Don’t invite a
pizza lover over for cauliflower crust pizza with cashew cheese and expect him
to love it. Instead, try introducing him to something exotic and different!</li>
<li>Time and patience. This is a tough
one, because we live our lives in a way that most of us don’t have a surplus of
either. Just give yourself a little time to visit the farmers market even once
(because you’ll want to go back,) find new spices you love and try new things.
Be patient with yourself when you can’t get a recipe right or mess something
up. You’ll never stick with anything new if you punish yourself for trying. </li>
<li>Variety. A grilled piece of fish
with no accoutrements and 1 steamed vegetable will seem excruciatingly boring
to most people. Make sure your meals feature a variety of colors, textures and
smells. Use different cooking methods – grill the fish, roast one vegetable, sauté
another. The more senses you appeal to the more people will enjoy what you put
in front of them!</li>
<li>Set yourself up for success. Test
new recipes and experiential ingredients out on willing spouses or friends
before you cook them for 14 people on Thanksgiving. Disappointment feels like
disaster when the stakes are high and you’ll be less likely to keep trying if
you suffer missteps that feel unnecessarily discouraging.</li>
<li><b>MOST IMPORTANTLY, REMEMBER THIS: </b>After
a lot of trial and error and unnecessary apologizing, I've come to realize that
if you’re committed to a path that you truly believe is best for you, then it’s
best for your loved ones too. Being kind to yourself and doing what you need to
do to stay well makes you the best possible version of yourself. And the people
around you will without a doubt enjoy that more than any chocolate cake. </li>
</ol>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392390997287413284.post-59301873743760209672015-03-31T19:30:00.002-07:002015-04-17T14:03:10.605-07:00Re-imagined Sonoma Chicken Salad<div class="MsoNormal">
While I believe proper nourishment deeply influences how we feel,
look and experience life, I also know how difficult it can be to find the time
to prepare three nutrient dense meals and snacks every single day. Sure, eating
well lays a proper foundation for a happy, energetic existence, but sometimes
you just. can’t. even. I spent last year trying to assemble the disillusioned
pieces of a regional marketing team at a global company. Some days I rose as
early as 430 am deprived of sleep and the wherewithal to do anything but put my
face in a jar of almond butter for a few moments before I ran out the
door. Looking back, if there was any
uphill battle I needed to fuel up for, it was that one. I should have been as
alert and sharp as possible to navigate those hidden-agenda land mines and bureaucratic
mêlées. But like many other things in my personal life, trips to the farmers
market and recipe testing with B took a backseat to career and a million other
things. I’m pretty sure most women know a thing or two about that.</div>
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Thankfully, this year I’m in a new role that affords me a
far better work life balance. I feel like I’ve been slowly but surely
reclaiming parts of myself and the kind of life that I feel best living.
Getting 7-8 hours of sleep consistently for the first time in years has been
truly earth-shattering. I appreciate
having the time to grocery shop and explore recipes and nourish myself and my
husband again on a whole new level. That being said, with a full time workload
and a puppy scampering around at my feet (in addition to the other typical
responsibilities of a physically active, type-A, dutiful career woman and wife,)
the need for fast and easy is ever-present. </div>
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I’ve been really into “bowls” lately. A super-easy way to get
protein, fiber, healthy fats and greens into every meal, once you find a favorite sauce or dressing to
tie it all together, there are endless
satisfying combinations . To minimize prep time during the busy work week, I mix
up a few dressings, cook some protein and steam some broccoli or kale over the
weekend. With only assembly and the addition of garnishes like fruit and nuts
to tackle before enjoying, you might even find a few moments to get creative. I know, I know. You’re probably thinking I’m
making it sound far easier than it really is. And there is certainly some trial
and error involved. But that’s what I’m here for!</div>
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I most often take inspiration from restaurant meals, gourmet
grocery stores or even Whole Foods. And of course Pinterest! The first recipe
I’ll share (below) was inspired by the glorious (but calorie dense) Sonoma
Chicken Salad at Whole Foods. The days of eating it right out of the container
for a lunch on the go are hopefully long gone. This is a very loose and much
healthier interpretation, but you still get the best parts – the crunch of
toasted nuts, burst of sweet from the grapes, and savory chicken.</div>
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<u>Re-imagined Sonoma Chicken Salad (1 serving)<o:p></o:p></u></div>
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3 cups mixed greens or baby lettuces <o:p></o:p></div>
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1 cup arugula (the bitterness balances out the sweet grapes and
dressing, but if you’re not a fan, just add more lettuce)<o:p></o:p></div>
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1 scallion, thinly sliced <o:p></o:p></div>
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3-4 oz grilled chicken breast, chopped (or shredded paleo chicken
breast from whole foods is yummy too)<o:p></o:p></div>
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1/3 cup red seedless grapes, halved<o:p></o:p></div>
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2 tablespoons pecans, chopped <o:p></o:p></div>
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Almond Honey dressing (below)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
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<u>Almond Honey Dressing (2-3 servings) <o:p></o:p></u></div>
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¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons unsalted dry roasted almonds (or 3 tablespoons
almond butter)</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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1 tablespoon avocado oil (or other mild salad oil)<o:p></o:p></div>
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3 tablespoons freshly squeezed orange juice<o:p></o:p></div>
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3 tablespoons water<o:p></o:p></div>
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2 teaspoons honey<o:p></o:p></div>
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¼ teaspoon `garlic powder<o:p></o:p></div>
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Salt and pepper to taste<o:p></o:p></div>
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1 teaspoon poppy seeds<o:p></o:p></div>
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<ol>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Preheat oven to 350.</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Put all dressing ingredients, excluding poppy
seeds, in a blender and blend until smooth and creamy. Add poppy seeds and mix
on low just until combined. Set aside.</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Roughly chop pecans and place on a cookie sheet
or sheet of foil in preheated oven until fragrant, about 5 minutes. Set aside
to cool.</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Toss greens with 1-2 tablespoons of the
dressing. Arrange scallions, grapes and chicken atop the greens and drizzle
with additional dressing. Sprinkle toasted pecans on top.</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Enjoy!</span></li>
</ol>
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Why do we so easily cast aside the simplest, easiest steps
towards thriving? Eat well, sleep enough, be kind to yourself and others, and
thrive. Eat almond butter out of the jar in the dark, sleep 4-5 hours, drive
yourself into the ground, and whither. It’s not that complicated. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Here’s to being a little kinder to yourself, feeding your
belly and fueling your happiness. <o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392390997287413284.post-87118973734809051492015-02-23T19:21:00.002-08:002015-02-23T19:22:05.708-08:00Recipe: Warming Winter Bowl (Gluten, Grain and Dairy Free)<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Every February, B heads to Europe for a week-long sales kickoff.
Because his trip always falls on the heels of the fat-kid stretch between
Thanksgiving and Valentine’s Day, I welcome the opportunity to use it as a mental
and physical reset. I work out every day and cook supa-clean meals at home; write
for hours on end and read at least one old lady book; maintain a delightfully
tidy home with everything in its place; drink many varieties of hot tea and
kombucha; and most importantly, enjoy the sound of sports-free silence for up
to seven luxurious days (only interrupted by PBS and Scandal of course). In essence, I live the life of an 80 year-old
British spinster and love every second of it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I of course miss B’s companionship and presence by the end of the week
(which is usually when I realize how terribly boring I would be without him
around). But this annual respite is still a relished time to focus on taking
care of myself and addressing my needs and wants above all. A key part of doing
so successfully is restoring balance to my diet and nourishing myself in a beautifully
simple way (so there’s plenty of time to enjoy tea and books). Below is a new
creation worth sharing; a cozy, comforting winter meal that emerged from this
year’s week of self-love. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<h3 style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Warming Winter Bowl</h3>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Serves 2-3<o:p></o:p></div>
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<u>Spiced Sweet Potato Hash</u></div>
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2 tablespoons refined coconut oil<o:p></o:p></div>
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2 small apples (Honey Crisp are my favorite, Braeburn is yummy too.
Pick Pink Lady or even Granny Smith if you like apples a little more tart)<o:p></o:p></div>
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3 medium shallots (or 2 large)<o:p></o:p></div>
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1 medium - large sweet potato<o:p></o:p></div>
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1 teaspoon garam masala<o:p></o:p></div>
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1 teaspoon curry powder<o:p></o:p></div>
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¼ teaspoon cinnamon<o:p></o:p></div>
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Dash salt<o:p></o:p></div>
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Fresh ground pepper</div>
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<u>Roasted Sprouts</u></div>
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½ small red onion<o:p></o:p></div>
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1 bag Shredded Brussels sprouts from Trader Joe’s<o:p></o:p></div>
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½ teaspoon garlic powder <o:p></o:p></div>
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½ teaspoon sea salt<o:p></o:p></div>
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1 tablespoon avocado oil (or your preferred roasting oil) </div>
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<u>Optional Garnishes: </u></div>
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1/4 cup raw pecans, chopped<o:p></o:p></div>
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3 tablespoons golden raisins, chopped<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
<ol>
<li><span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Preheat oven to 425.</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Chop apples and sweet potato into ¼ inch cubes
and slice shallots into about 1/8” thick slices. Set aside.</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Heat a cast iron skillet over medium-high heat
(a non-stick skillet will work just fine too, but no need to warm ahead of time).</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">In a large bowl, toss Brussels sprouts and thinly
sliced red onion (between 1/8 and ¼ inch thick) with avocado oil to coat. Add
garlic powder and sea salt and stir to coat. </span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Spread Brussels sprout mixture on a large cookie
sheet coated with foil and roast for 10 minutes.</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Add coconut oil to warm skillet and swirl to
coat. Add apples, shallots and sweet potatoes; </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">coat evenly with coconut oil. Sprinkle garam
masala, curry powder, cinnamon, salt and pepper over hash and stir. Cover and cook for 10 minutes, stirring only once.</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Stir Brussels sprouts at the 10 minute mark and
return to the oven to cook for another 10-15 minutes (depending on how crispy you
like your sprouts).</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Remove lid from hash, stir and continue cooking uncovered
for 10 more minutes or until apples and potatoes reach desired tenderness.</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">While hash is cooking, chop 8-10 ounces grilled chicken breast, or grab
about 2 cups of my favorite shredded chicken breast recipe shown below, adapted
from </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Clean-Eats-Delicious-Recipes-Discover/dp/006232781X" style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Clean
Eats</a><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> (I make this almost religiously on Sundays to have around for the
week).</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Toss the chicken in the skillet with your hash <u>for
the last minute or so of cooking</u>. Be careful not to do this prematurely or you’ll
end up with tough chicken – you just want to warm the previously cooked meat at this stage.</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Serve hash and chicken over a bed of sprouts and
sprinkle with pecans and raisins (optional). If you find the mixture a tad try,
toss with a teaspoon of warmed coconut oil and add salt and pepper to taste.</span></li>
</ol>
<br /><i>Tip: If your hash needs a little
more time than your sprouts, turn the oven off and leave the door ajar to allow
some heat to escape before leaving them in the oven until your hash is ready. About</i><br /> <br /><br /><u>Shredded Chicken</u><br />2 lbs chicken breast<br />1 tablespoon onion powder<br />1 teaspoon thyme<br />1 teaspoon garlic powder<br />1 bay leaf<br />About 2 quarts of water (enough to cover chicken by ¼ inch)<br /><br /><ol>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Trim fat from chicken and cut each breast in ½.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Place all ingredients in a pot, cover and bring
to a boil. (Start peaking under the lid after about 7 minutes to ensure you see
when it starts to boil – this will prevent overcooking).</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">When pot comes to a boil, reduce to a simmer
over low heat and cook covered for 20 minutes.</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Remove from heat. Remove lid and cool until
chicken is just warm to the touch.</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Transfer chicken to cutting board and shred by
hand.</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Cool completely and place in refrigerator in an
air-tight container.</span></li>
</ol>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392390997287413284.post-90027297763994190152014-11-22T23:58:00.002-08:002014-11-22T23:58:34.913-08:00Cozy Winter Granola (dairy, gluten and grain free)<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Like Pavlov’s
dog, I used to salivate at the first ring of a holiday bell, anxious for
November and December’s much anticipated comfort foods and holiday meals. We
all tend to splurge with more reckless abandon from Thanksgiving through New
Year’s and although my body never exactly thrived off double scoops of
peppermint stick ice cream over warm molten chocolate cake, my inner fat kid
certainly did. I used to be able to bounce back from holiday indulgence almost as fast as I could wipe the evidence off my sticky, soiled face with a
holly embroidered napkin. Although I’m still waiting for the official memo
(would have been nice to get a little warning,) I've begrudgingly accepted that
atonement for a month or two of “who cares, it’s Christmas!” after the age of
30 is an uphill battle I don’t have the patience for. So, I've had to modify my
approach a little to avoid the winter purgatory. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Even if we
are trying to be mindful of lingering saddle bags, let’s be honest. Deprivation
this time of year only results in a particularly ugly type of “hangry.” As it
often is, the answer seems to be balance. I allow myself a few “screw it!”
moments (Bubby’s legendary Thanksgiving dinner, Christmas morning brunch,) but
in between I do my best to take care of myself and my husband. I fulfill the
desire to fill our house with familiar smells and memories by making simple
modifications to classic recipes, and by finding healthier or simplified
versions of old favorites that I find equally satisfying. It took me a great
deal of trial and error over the past few holiday seasons (I still don’t
understand why people say things like “tastes JUST like a Pillsbury sugar
cookie!” when it tastes like a macaroon scraped off the bottom of someone’s
shoe). Bottom line: if the healthier versions feels like a sad-sack
replacements of the real thing, you’ll likely wander back to the fridge a few
hours later and end up eating what you were craving in the first place.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I’ve
stumbled my way through dozens of allergen free, clean, paleo, etc versions of
holiday treats and comfort foods and some of them (grain-free sugar cookies)
made me want to throw a rolling pin against the wall. Others were so delicious (allergen
free dark chocolate peppermint pretzels,) that the results called to me from
the freezer with equally loud “eeeeeeat me” voices as the naughtier version. Allow me to save you the trouble of wasted
hours and shelves full of expiring specialty ingredients and share a few
recipes that anchor our holiday regimen.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I always
know a “healthy spin” is successful when my husband loves it, craves it and
asks for 2<sup>nd</sup> and 3<sup>rd</sup> batches long after it’s gone. This
“granola” recipe is a favorite of his; and just this past weekend became a new
favorite of a beloved childhood friend, my best girlfriends from college, and
their charming better halves. It fills the house with sweet and comforting
scents and is a far healthier start to cold winter mornings than pastries or French
toast and bacon! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Cozy Winter
Granola <i>(dairy, gluten and grain free)</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">¼ cup
(heaping) raw pumpkin seeds</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">¼ cup (heaping)
raw sunflower seeds </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">3/4 cup raw
almonds</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">1/2 cup raw
cashews</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">½ cup raw
pecans</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">¼ cup raw
walnuts</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">¼ cup golden
flax seeds</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">¾ Cup
unsweetened shredded coconut</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">¼ cup honey</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">¼ cup maple
syrup</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">2
tablespoons coconut oil</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">2 teaspoons
vanilla extract</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Optional: ½
cup allergen free chocolate chips or raw
cacao nibs</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">1/2 cup
golden raisins</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">½ teaspoon
sea salt</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Parchment
paper (don’t sub wax paper, trust me!)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<br />
<ol>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit; text-indent: -0.25in;">Rinse pumpkin and sunflower seeds in a fine mesh
strainer. Put in a bowl and pour water over seeds with about ¼ inch to cover.
Soak seeds for about an hour then drain and towel dry</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit; text-indent: -0.25in;">Pre</span><span style="font-family: inherit; text-indent: -0.25in;">heat oven to 275 and line a large cookie
sheet with parchment paper</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit; text-indent: -0.25in;">Put nuts in a food processor or high speed
blender and pulse a few times to chop the nuts into smaller pieces. </span><i style="font-family: inherit; text-indent: -0.25in;">(You don’t want the nuts to be ground to a
powder; its ideal to have the pieces vary in sizes</i><span style="font-family: inherit; text-indent: -0.25in;">).</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit; text-indent: -0.25in;">Heat coconut oil, maple syrup, honey and vanilla
in the microwave for 30 seconds, or on the stovetop on low for a few minutes,
just until the coconut oil is melted and the liquids combine.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit; text-indent: -0.25in;">Combine all ingredients, except the raisins and
salt, in a large mixing bowl. Stir to coat.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit; text-indent: -0.25in;">Spread the granola mixture evenly onto the
cookie sheet lined with parchment paper. Bake for about 25 minutes or until
lightly browned, stirring ½ way through cooking time. For a chewier granola, cook
just under 25 minutes; for a crispy, crunchy granola, cook a few minutes longer
but keep a close eye on it to prevent over-browning.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit; text-indent: -0.25in;">Remove from oven and sprinkle with sea salt. Add
raisins and use a spatula to flatten them into the mixture. (Note: the mixture
will not be crispy upon removing from oven, it will still be wet until the
sugars cool and harden.)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit; text-indent: -0.25in;">Allow to cool for 30 minutes to an hour
(depending on the humidity of your kitchen!) Break apart and store in an
airtight container, using parchment paper to separate layers. </span></li>
</ol>
<br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392390997287413284.post-4250424535262451932014-04-26T14:13:00.002-07:002014-04-26T14:13:55.947-07:00Grown Up Friends<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">A few weekends ago I went to Palm Springs for a bachelorette
party thrown in honor of a California girlfriend that I've known for a few
years now. We’re kindred spirits, like-minded in many ways, and I value our friendship so much that I didn't think twice about attending her bachelorette
party as an outsider among her childhood and college friends. Distracted by
work quite a bit these days, the fact that I would be <i>the</i> stranger in the midst didn't even cross my mind until I was on
the way to the airport.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I was relieved to find the bride’s friends were all as
approachable, fun and quirky as she is. I also had the good fortune of seeing at
least a few familiar faces; and thankfully being social and building
relationships is not unnatural to me. Still I found myself feeling surprisingly
insecure throughout the weekend. Self-critical thoughts like “stop talking so
much” or “don’t talk about yourself” kept popping up. Even though I was having
a good time and enjoying everyone’s company, I kept self-correcting and judging
myself harshly. </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I’d crack a well received
joke and in the next breath think, “Ugh. You’re trying too hard to be funny.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">We arrived on Friday afternoon and by Saturday evening, the
self-critical inner monologue was unsettling enough to me to break out the
champagne and “college Liz.” I don’t drink much anymore and “college Liz” has
been long dead and buried, but being the “new girl” among old friends stirred
up a kind of insecurity that is relatively new to me. Sure I’m accustomed to
hypercritical self-awareness when it comes to my performance at work or to my
personal appearance, but I’m not used to it in the social space. Being engaging,
funny, charming and conversational with new people-that’s supposed to be my
sweet spot.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Making new friends as an adult makes me feel vulnerable in a
way I don’t remember ever feeling before. After college, we’re deprived of the
disarming experiences (like sharing dorm bathrooms or 8 years of math class)
that serve as catalysts for lasting bonds. As grown-ups we’re faced with making
new friends in stifling professional environments or places like bars and buses
that are anything but conducive to making authentic personal connections. If
you’re a transplant like I am, then you know that infiltrating a group of
lifelong friends is a whole other complicated gauntlet. Still, I used to feel
well equipped for these challenges. Why does it feel so much harder the older I
get?</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">My childhood and college girlfriends have always
been a great source of strength for me; I always had this feeling that if I
could see myself the way they saw me I would be much better off. Those
friendships have always made me feel loved, needed, wise, funny, smart –
everything a good friendship should make you feel. But those friendships and
those women are all very far away. The women I met over my first few years in
San Francisco made me feel embraced, accepted and appreciated. Now that most of
them have had children and/or left the city, I ’m facing my fourth </span><span style="line-height: 115%;">cycle
of making new friends. In the absence of all the women with whom I’ve built uplifting
relationships over the years, an unfamiliar social self-consciousness fills the
void left by the positive reinforcement of their laughter and energy. The quiet
though, as uncomfortable as it is at times, has revealed a pressing need. I have
to learn to love myself in the silence and the noise. I have to learn to draw
my sense of self worth from within.</span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392390997287413284.post-57087558808093708172014-04-13T16:25:00.001-07:002014-04-13T16:25:29.262-07:00Indian Wedding<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">On my walk home from Pilates yesterday afternoon, as I
ascended the Mason Street hill from Union Square, I heard the unmistakable
twang of sitar filling Huntington Square a block above me. The music was
celebratory, punctuated by the thud of hand drums bouncing off the Pac Union
Club’s ancient brownstone walls, and infused with cheers and laughter. The positive
energy was palpable. Even before I hit the crest of the hill where the crowd
was visible, I had a smile on my face.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The block in front of the Fairmont Hotel had been barricaded
to accommodate an Indian wedding celebration that spilled out of the front
doors and into the streets before passing neighbors and tourists. The wedding guests
kept pouring out of the hotel as I approached. They danced in a serpentine line
that weaved in and out of the grey-flecked white marble columns and blurred
into the edges of a crowd surrounding the groom. Gold headdress atop his head, he
cheered and bounced on the back of a tall white horse spotted with tan. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Silk saris saturated with the colors of the rainbow looked
like splashes of paint against the facade of the old white hotel. Miles of silk
adorned with gold coins and thick with embroidery hung across the slight frames
of silver-haired, WASPy retirees and flowed down the backs of beautiful young Indian
bridesmaids. The traditional dress looked strikingly natural on both sets of
women. They all appeared equally as proud to lose themselves in Indian tradition
and in devotion to the bride and groom. Men held their children on their
shoulders and hopped up and down on the pavement, a common lack of rhythm
united ancient looking uncles, awkward singles and youthful family men. There
were no straight faces in the group, only smiles as bright and bold as the
colors of dress.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">T</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">here’s something truly remarkable about weddings. I can't think of anything else that inspires us to put aside our own priorities, agendas,
baggage and judgments in favor of unadulterated joy. Weddings exist in this
wonderful, beautiful vacuum where we replace the things that taint the good in
life with everything that is good. They are full of the memories that that bind
us. They are overflowing with the kindness that feeds our souls. They are a
source of hope that fuels our dreams for the future. Everywhere you turn on
that day, you see loyalty, love, support, history, optimism. It’s truly
remarkable. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I stood glued to that sidewalk for a few minutes. My feet
felt heavy even as my chest filled with longing and I felt sadness inflate my
ribs. Although only witness to it, I found it hard to walk away from that once
in a lifetime sensation of being surrounded by </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">everyone</i><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> that matters – protected, elevated, insulated by their
love and the sheer force of their combined support. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I moved only when the groom rode towards the
door and his future with his bride. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">As I
walked towards home and looked over the other side of Nob Hill to the ocean, I
thought about how I would get married once a year until I die if given the
chance (and a little extra $). I turned back for a last look before they were
out of sight, and I wondered if I will ever feel as invincible and complete as I did with my hand inside my husbands and our family and friends at our sides. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">When I arrived home wishing I had a sari in my
closet, I realized I’m still going through a little post-wedding withdrawal. I can’t help but wonder if I will be as
long as I chose to live the life I love here in California. Perhaps the price I
pay is always feeling a little bit like a sponge - full of tiny little holes left by family and friends so far away, waiting to be filled up,
filled in, made whole by the uplifting force of their combined presence in my
life. </span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392390997287413284.post-26001986764021188172014-02-05T18:11:00.003-08:002014-02-05T18:12:19.766-08:00Venus Fly Trap<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">By January, everyone is ready for a reset button. Carrying
around a few extra pounds, staring back at ruddy skin, and feeling lethargic
get old after a while. Most people are anxious to return to pre-holiday form,
as am I of course, but because weight management is a slippery slope for me, I
have to be particularly mindful of the pressure I put on myself come the New
Year. After years of torturing myself in January as punishment for a blissfully
indulgent December, I finally learned that remedying one form of unhealthy with
another, (extreme measures,) results in frustration at best and binging at
worst. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;">In the past few years, I’ve tried to ease myself back into a
nourishing, clean diet by slowly decreasing artificial sugar intake and rich
foods and simultaneously increasing simply prepared whole meals and snacks. We return
to cooking at home more; inventive salads, fresh grilled fish and chicken and
pureed vegetable soups fill the menu. When cravings strike, I do my best to remember
the end game: clean diet = clean body=clear mind=strong and happy Liz. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I slip up, I try like hell to avoid punishing
myself with extra workouts or skimping on meals. I even write post-it notes on
the inside of my bathroom mirror with messages like “be kind to yourself” or “health
is fragile. Be gentile.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The theme is positive
reinforcement. The goal is that within a couple of weeks, my brain recognizes
and feels the remarkable difference between a nourishing, clean diet and an
overindulgent one. If I can be patient and focus on health above all, I start
to truly <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">feel</i> why I’m mindful of
nourishing my body first, and indulging second. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It all sounds quite simple and sensible, doesn’t it?
Unfortunately, the reality is that after years of trying, I still can’t wrap the
sins of the holidays up in a neat and tidy January package. It’s as if while my
conscious self is focusing on the healthy path, there’s still that little voice
deep inside me saying “don’t let that scale keep going in the wrong direction!”
The fear of losing control slowly, quietly builds - it’s a seed that starts small
and flourishes despite my refusal to water it. Even if I turn my back on it
with intentions and healthy habits, it still grows into a Venus fly trap by the
end of January. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I walk right into the
trap and hit the release valve with a regretful night out or weekend of
overindulgence, effectively burying a month of “right” with a mindless dose of “wrong.”
</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">I</span></span><span style="color: black;"> stood in the shower Sunday morning, the scalding hot water
bathing me in déjà vu. After a moment of searching my memory I realized that this
was the 3</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><sup>rd</sup> or 4<sup>th</sup> January in a row when I’ve buckled under
the same old self-imposed pressures right as the calendar turns to February.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I looked down at my toes and watched the
water rush around them, feeling heavy and rooted to the porcelain tub like a
statue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In that moment, I wondered if the
strength and wisdom and self worth I’ve worked so hard to arm myself with will
always be as fluid as the water rushing at my feet – and if that ashamed chubby
girl inside of me will remain as immovable as the feet beneath it. Will I ever
be able to drown her out for good?</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392390997287413284.post-62118680483206317382013-12-20T14:54:00.000-08:002013-12-20T15:20:21.116-08:00Irish Elf
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I don’t like anything getting in the way of my holiday cheer.
I’m a bit of a Christmas professional; I look at the month of December as
something to prepare for, both mentally and physically. Each year, I aim to be
rested, energized and in full holiday spirit by Thanksgiving. For a girl who
works her butt off and lives thousands of miles from most of her family and
childhood friends, I crave, love and enjoy the days between Thanksgiving and
New Year’s like the proverbial fat kid does cake. I take pains to lighten my
workload so I can maximize every opportunity to connect with much-missed loved
ones, celebrate a year of hard work and soak up every ounce of goodwill and
human kindness as fuel for the coming year. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are a few things that threaten the sanctity
of Christmastime though; regardless of how we plan for and enjoy the holidays,
they still can be a source of stress and tension. If there’s one thing this
Irish elf has learned, it’s that you’ve got to strike the right balance of
precautionary measures and damage control to have a fulfilling season every
year. Below are some tips and tricks that have proved increasingly valuable to
me as I get older. Although some are almost ridiculously simple and, at first
glance, intuitive, if you’re a woman, it’s highly likely you need to be
reminded often of the importance of caring for yourself FIRST.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">1.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sleep. It’s supremely important. Lack of sleep
affects our mood stability, cognitive ability, metabolism and in my experience,
ability to maintain perspective. If you’re exhausted, find a way to get the
rest you need. Ask for help, ship the kids off to the mall, and sedate your
husband with wine if you have to. Just get your head on that pillow so you don’t
feel like you’re wearing muddy glasses all month long instead of rose-colored
ones. If you’re reaction to this recommendation is “Who has time for sleep?!” you
probably need it more than anyone. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">2.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Eat. Nourish yourself. If you’re bouncing from
daycare drop-off to work to the mall to the dry-cleaner to daycare to the
grocery store before the sun sets, you need sufficient energy to power your
body through the run-around and nourishment to keep you sane. Lots of healthy
fats and proteins help do both. No need to make a gourmet meal, try making a
smoothie the night before and grab it on your way out in the morning. (See
below for a yummy Gingerbread Smoothie recipe I created this week!) Keep your
purse, car, office stocked with raw unsalted nuts, fresh seasonal fruit, raw
veggies and hummus, hard-boiled eggs, and other simple, whole, healthy snacks. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">3.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Listen. Slow down long enough to respond to
indications that you need a break or a moment for yourself. If you’re freaking
out over lost scissors and Scotch tape, put the wrapping paper down and take a
walk or draw a bath, but don’t wait until you’re past boiling point and freak
out on the next caroler that rings your bell. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">4.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Indulge mindfully. No one wants to deprive
themselves during the holidays, but over-indulging will do as much damage as
under-nourishing. Unless you want to put your mood and energy in a tailspin, go
easy on the sugar and alcohol especially. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’re far more likely to respond to stressful
triggers if you eat every heavy appetizer put under your nose and wash them all
down with chocolate martinis. Sugar cravings, binge-induced self-loathing and
killer hangovers lead to holiday bulge, not holiday cheer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Moderation is always more difficult for me this
time of year, but when I can manage to be selective with my Christmas Party indulgences
and balance them out with healthy, nourishing meals at home, I inevitably feel
more energetic, stable and a little proud of myself too. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">5.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Be kind. And gentle. If and when you’ve overdone
it, don’t punish yourself by skipping meals or hammering a double cheeseburger.
Your body needs the right amount, and right kind, of energy to flush out toxins
after a night of eggnog and peppermint fudge. If you went to town on the greasy
apps and drinks yesterday, be gentle on your system today. Skip coffee and aim
for low – no added sugar. Start with a smoothie that has protein, healthy fats,
fiber and greens in it in the morning. Try drinking green juices between small,
simple meals like sautéed greens with grilled chicken breast or pureed vegetable
soup with a small side salad. The more nutrient dense liquids you can consume
the better – your taxed system will be able to absorb and replenish nutrients
without having to work overtime.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In a (chest)nutshell, taking good care of yourself and being
kind to your body (at least on most days) makes a difference in the way we experience
life, and it can make a remarkable difference in the way we experience the
holidays. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’ll be far better equipped
to handle the in-law landmine navigation, familial expectations and packed
calendar if you put yourself in a position to enjoy the things that make all
the hustle and bustle worth every cent and lost hour of sleep. No other time of
year affords us as many opportunities to enjoy the life, family and friends
with which we’ve been blessed. Why not ensure you can make the best of it? </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong><u>Lizzie O’s Gingerbread Smoothie</u></strong></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">1 Cup unsweetened plain almond milk</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">¼ Cup raw pecans</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">1 Scoop Plant Fusion plain protein (or other plain
plant-based protein powder)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">1 Cup baby kale or spinach</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">½ Tablespoon chia seeds</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">1 Teaspoon alcohol free vanilla extract (I love Frontier
Naturals) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">1 Tablespoon unsulfured black strap molasses</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">1 Teaspoon ground ginger</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">½ Teaspoon cinnamon</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Pinch ground cloves</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Pinch allspice</span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Combine all ingredients in a high speed blender (always
start with wet ingredients at the bottom for easier blending.) Blend until
spinach or kale is completely pulverized. Enjoy!</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392390997287413284.post-48122304338946357872013-12-15T00:49:00.000-08:002013-12-20T15:19:13.537-08:00In Living Color
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">B is the most authentic, real, alive person I have ever met.
He is sensitive and passionate, his emotions lie just under the surface; they
bubble over multiple times a day in intense waves of happiness, frustration,
joy, displeasure, satisfaction, sadness, anger. Always intense and always
fleeting, his emotions are part of the astonishingly broad spectrum of bold,
bright, beautifully vivid colors that come together to form his character. He
is at times raw and unfiltered, loud and unrestrained. He thinks big, smiles
big, feels big. He allows himself to be vulnerable in every way. He fearlessly <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">feels</i> his way through life and as a
result, his life experience is nothing short of grand. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I, unfortunately, am equally emotional, but not quite as
brave as my husband. 9 times out of 10, I’ll take a detour around an authentic
emotional response and head straight for a more scientific approach. I’ll
filter, analyze, audit and reason my way through a shit storm for 6 months
sometimes before I get the guts to really feel something, let it out and move
on. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The idea of becoming unhinged is so disconcerting that I cling
to restraint like warm, fuzzy security blankets. This is obviously a byproduct of
growing up with a mother who was basically Vincent Van Gogh crossed with
Scarlet O’Hara. There was fire and darkness and intense light inside of her, a
kind of lyrical chaos that sometimes yielded warmth, tenderness and pure sunshine.
Other times, uncontrollable storms of complex, confusing emotions consumed our
household and sucked the breath out of each and every one of us. My father, on
the other hand, is to this day unwavering, stoic, steady and strong. In our
youth, he was the calm to her storm. He was truth. He was safety. He was peace.
He was our lifeboat. And so, I cling to the kind of discipline and order with
which he kept us all afloat.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I may always find unbridled emotion unsettling. I may always
default to restraint and control. But I’m starting to realize that the things
that comfort us, the old habits or versions of ourselves that are easy and proverbial,
are often the ones holding us back. B has taught me that letting go enough to
lead a bold and colorful life isn’t a recipe for disaster. And when I watch the
way he laughs and loves and smiles and fills every room with energy, I know that
to never realize a life as vivid as the one he challenges me to live would be far
more devastating than any momentary loss of control. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392390997287413284.post-3655530061525027622013-11-25T17:41:00.003-08:002013-12-20T15:15:35.788-08:00Boob Tube
<br />
18 months later, I’m still a little surprised by how much back surgery
altered my path. Major surgery shifts your focus, reshapes your train of
thought, and causes you to look at every moment within each day differently.
Ironically, eye-opening revelations and recovery progress seem to be balanced
out with equal parts reversion and regression. You’re in many ways stripped of
the habits that make you feel strong and normal, and as a result you
unwittingly revert back to familiar, comfortable ones.<br />
<br />
For the first six months, I had to spend A LOT of time prone. I went back to
work almost immediately, which was too soon, and as a result had to come home
and counter the sitting and standing in meetings and at my desk with solid
“rest” hours in the evening. I wasn’t pleased with having to “rest” before I
went to bed each night, so I attempted to keep those hours productive. There
are only so many productive things you can do while lying down. I worked, read,
scribbled in a journal, wrote blogs, meditated and occasionally researched
random things on the internet. About 50% of the time, however, I was too pissed
at my inability to move like a normal person and I sought comfort in an old
friend. TV. I knew it wasn’t going to help anything, but it felt so
right. It soothed my anger and quieted my mind. The New York Times or
obnoxiously sunny wedding blogs did neither.<br />
<br />
Before I knew it my “productive” prone time dwindled to 30 minutes or an
hour at most and I was watching HOURS of TV every night. After a few weeks of
indulging in the deliciously dirty habit of watching shows intended for 15 year
old girls and terribly bored housewives, I noticed I was starting to feel more
lethargic and more discouraged about my recovery. Sure the TV comforted me at
first, but I developed a sneaking suspicion that watching so much of it was
making me more depressed. I decided to do a little experiment. <br />
<br />
I went entirely TV-free three days/week (except for my husband’s sports on
in the background while I read.) I allowed myself 30 minutes of TV two days a
week, but only AFTER I had done at least two things from my “productive” list.
The remaining two days of the week I could do as I pleased. <br />
<br />
After one week, it was painfully obvious that I felt optimistic about
recovery, clear-headed, energetic and good about myself on the days when I
watched one hour or less of television. I felt lethargic, “meh” at best and
pessimistic at worst on days when I watched the most TV. Days with about 30
minutes to an hour of TV time were just fine, but not quite as happy as days
when I watched none. Overall, I ate more and later and snacked mindlessly into
the night when I watched more than an hour of TV. Damn you “Pretty Little
Liars!” Damn you! <br />
<br />
The “AHA!” moment around TV was one of the many silver-lining lessons I
learned during recovery. We know so many things to be true, but until we
experience them for ourselves, it never really sticks or becomes a practice. Sure
I knew that TV “rots your brain,” slows your resting metabolic rate, and is
linked to depression and obesity. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did I
think about restricting TV time when I just wanted a little “Beverly Hills
90210” sunshine in my day? Nope! Did I care about the links to depression and
obesity while I was snickering at Victoria’s contorted facial expressions on
“Revenge?” Absolutely not. But after my little experiment, I couldn’t ignore
that watching too much TV was making me feel worse about myself and about
recovery. I realized the negative effects of too much TV are as real as a
hangover after a night out with my 24-year old little sister. <br />
<br />
TV is like that promiscuous party-girl friend you had growing up. She’s
easy, pretty, exciting, fascinating to watch and you always kind of feel like
you’re doing something wrong when you spend too much time with her. She doesn’t
expect much more than your time and in return you get pure entertainment. Like
your friendship with said slutty friend, watching TV does absolutely nothing
for you. It prevents you from spending time nurturing more mutually beneficial
relationships (with my husband in my case) and replaces healthier and more
fulfilling activities. As with any delicious form of escape, TV is best
consumed in moderation. Take it from me, excessive consumption truly has the
potential to turn you into a dim-witted chub. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
P.S. I will go to Pilates after I post this blog. When I get home, I will have some dinner, take a shower and chat with my husband about our days at work. And then, I fully intend to dive head first into my cozy bed and switch on the latest episode of Scandal. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392390997287413284.post-89269318446409180292013-10-30T20:42:00.005-07:002013-12-20T15:14:53.826-08:00Belize It<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">B and I were married on a little island off the coast of
Belize on May 25, 2013. When we first returned to San Francisco, I
had this idea that I would give myself a little time to process before
memorializing our wedding week with some fabulous multi-installment blog. It’s
been over 5 months.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvjOupLuYe_F0pYDEo47m9LXJ-qOwJspyxwkbgzURQLwYpfhX8xUgpXwVzDOlW3K-5v7j8480HPa1hcjiFp-fmTA9jedhJki-zqZLRQ2j_ZOz4k31GbN-bKiMRdZzlDpsx_e_s6VMuyWmV/s1600/00111+edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvjOupLuYe_F0pYDEo47m9LXJ-qOwJspyxwkbgzURQLwYpfhX8xUgpXwVzDOlW3K-5v7j8480HPa1hcjiFp-fmTA9jedhJki-zqZLRQ2j_ZOz4k31GbN-bKiMRdZzlDpsx_e_s6VMuyWmV/s1600/00111+edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvjOupLuYe_F0pYDEo47m9LXJ-qOwJspyxwkbgzURQLwYpfhX8xUgpXwVzDOlW3K-5v7j8480HPa1hcjiFp-fmTA9jedhJki-zqZLRQ2j_ZOz4k31GbN-bKiMRdZzlDpsx_e_s6VMuyWmV/s320/00111+edit.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
</div>
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve never liked endings or goodbyes - I prefer to move, and think, ahead. I still hate closing the back cover on a book I love; I wish I could work the characters off the page and into my life. I used to cry every single time we left cousins, aunts, uncles, old family friends. Even the ones I didn’t like that much. I guess coming home and writing about my wedding immediately after would have forced a kind of closure I've never been very good at. I didn’t want to acknowledge it was over. Much like during childhood, I didn’t want to feel the dissonance between a week bright with familiar faces and laughter and a reality absent of family and friends' company.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Talk about a come-down far worse than the post-Christmas blues. So, instead of writing about Belize, I eased back into San Francisco and floated through a few weeks with my new husband, high on all that positive post-nuptial energy. And when scrolling through new images uploaded to our group album while waiting in the salad line started to bring that familiar ache for friends and family, I moved on. I focused on the next big thing. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">I grew up very far from our extended family. I moved away from home when I was 18. I left Boston after college and have lived in San Francisco, far from my sisters and parents, for 8 years now. I’ve moved on a lot. But I carry the people that raised me, shaped me, loved me, taught me in my heart everywhere I go. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The past few years have been hard. My family, health, support system and future life with my husband now resemble nothing close to what I envisioned 3 years ago. With each new piece of bad news, I closed my eyes and wished I had my sisters to hold me up or the Boston girls to make me forget or my Farmington girls to remind me how to be tough. When my parents ended their marriage, I wanted to eat cupcakes with Beth. I remember waking up in the hospital after surgery and thinking that I just wanted to have tea with my Dad. When they told me I can’t have kids, I just wanted my own mom to baby me a little. Every time I felt broken or lost, I just I wanted my people. But I knew that wasn't an option, so I just kept moving on. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And then I got off a
little puddle jumper in Belize and took a boat to our hotel and tiny Emmie ran
up the dock beaming and waving her camera in one hand, clutching the hat that
was about to fly off her head in the other. From that moment on, all the people
I longed for over the past 3 years- the people who make me strong, make me
laugh, make me who I am- arrived one by one on that tiny caye off the coast of
that beautiful country. It was as if they each carried a piece of me with them;
and together with my sweet, gentle soul of a husband, they put me back
together again. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Belize will always be paradise, but for that week, with my heart
as full as it will ever be, it was <em>my</em> paradise. I’ve never felt happier,
luckier, more at ease, more loved, more in love. I have never felt whole in the
way that I did when we were there. No wonder it’s taken me 5 months to even
begin to admit it’s over. </span><br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392390997287413284.post-49196412928019060822013-10-09T19:01:00.000-07:002013-10-17T17:19:20.640-07:00Contrary To Popular BeliefYou're not alone. You know the stuff that you keep to yourself? The complicated emotions you haven't quite worked through, the deplorable actions you're sure you'd be judged for? You know the thoughts you occasionally have about your kids or your husband that you're sure deem you unfit or undeserving so you don't ever vocalize them? Guess what? You're not alone. Far from it. I know plenty of mothers who daydream on occasion about what a kid-free life would have been like. I've met more wives than I can count that question their life choices more than they care to admit at a dinner party. And career women who've grown tired of selling their soul and dream about throwing in the towel? Dime a dozen. Next time you chastise yourself for thinking what you consider the "unthinkable," remember that no one and no life perfect. Just because your friends aren't chatting about their near nervous breakdowns over lattes, doesn't mean they aren't having them. At any given moment, someone you know is freaking out on her kids, giving up on her miserable job, exploding on her husband or just plain wishing she could disappear. Let's be honest. We're all screaming a little inside at one point or another. Hopefully you're fortunate enough to find friends that let a squeak of honesty out here and there. It's important to remember you're not alone. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392390997287413284.post-76656637956219951512013-10-01T21:00:00.001-07:002013-10-09T19:01:23.547-07:00"Comfort" Smoothie and Product RecommendationsI am without a doubt an emotional eater. Always have been. Given the fact that I have a vagina, there's a good chance I always will be. With increased awareness around my tendency to bury emotions I can't handle in a pint of ice cream I can't digest, I've spent some time seeking out healthier "comfort foods." <br />
<br />
Once in a while I create something that seems to yield an equal amount of instant gratification/comfort/release to Peanut M&Ms or <a href="https://www.susiecakes.com/menu" target="_blank">Suzie Cake's</a> Celebration Cake. I perfected this smoothie recipe over a particularly stressful 2 weeks this past summer, and the result was without a doubt, comfort on the tip of my tongue. (It also happens to have vegan protein, fiber, healthy fats and a super food!)<br />
<br />
4 Oz Coconut water* <br />
4 Oz Unsweetened plain almond milk*<br />
1/2 Very ripe banana <em>(peeled - I let a few bananas get really ripe then peel, half, individually wrap and freeze to make smoothie making as fast as possible!)</em><br />
1Tbsp <a href="http://livesuperfoods.com/jem-cinnamon-red-maca-almond-butter.html" target="_blank">Jem Maca Almond Butter</a> * (This stuff is like crack. It's worth finding or ordering online.)<br />
1 Tbsp Frontier Naturals Alcohol Free Vanilla*<br />
Dash Cinnamon<br />
1 Tbsp Hemp protein*<br />
1 Tbsp Pea protein*<br />
1 Tbsp Chia seeds<br />
Optional: 4 Drops alcohol free stevia* (this makes it pretty sweet)<br />
Optional: Toss in a handful or 2 of spinach. You can't really taste spinach in smoothies, so why not!?<br />
<br />
Put all ingredients in a blender and blend until smooth and creamy. Add more vanilla or stevia to taste, although you shouldn't need either if your banana is nice and ripe.<br />
<br />
<br />
<em>*PRODUCT RECOMMENDATIONS: Through a great deal of trial and error, sticker shock and nutrition label lament, I've found the healthiest, cleanest versions of the below ingredients. Keep in mind, home made or "whole" is always best, but let's be honest, we've got to do the best we can with the time we have!</em><br />
<ul>
<li><strong>Where to Source</strong>: I've become obsessed with <a href="http://vitacost.com/">Vitacost.com</a>. They ALWAYS undercut Whole Foods (not that hard,) Real Foods (San Francisco chain, so not that hard either) and often Amazon (I find that impressive!) on dried herbs and spices, prepared foods, supplements, extracts, teas and pretty much all non-perishable crunchy specialty goods. </li>
<li><strong>Almond Milk:</strong> I highly recommend finding a no-sugar-added almond milk with as short an ingredient list as possible. <a href="http://www.wholefoodsmarket.com/products/engine-2-almondmilk-unsweetened-original" target="_blank">Engine 2</a> is my favorite brand, and <a href="http://www.wholefoodsmarket.com/products/organic-almondmilk-unsweetened" target="_blank">365 Organics</a> is a close second. There's a terrifying amount of added sugar and funky fillers in a lot of the other brands out there so read your labels to avoid excess sugar and additives.</li>
<li><strong>Vanilla Extract</strong>: Laugh if you will, but I believe a good vanilla extract makes or breaks a lot of smoothies. Without high temperatures to cook off alcohol, using a regular extract can make your smoothies taste bitter, or worse, boozey. Go for an alcohol-free version for raw foods and smoothies, in my opinion <a href="http://www.vitacost.com/frontier-natural-products-vanilla-flavor-16-fl-oz-1" target="_blank">Frontier Naturals</a> is by far the best. Snag the 16 Oz. size on Vitacost.com - trust me, you'll need all 16 ounces once you discover how yummy it is. </li>
<li><strong>Stevia:</strong> There are a lot of stevia products on the market now and they are not all created equal. You want to be sure you purchase pure stevia root extract that isn't cut with other sweeteners. Again, I prefer alcohol free in raw foods and smoothies to avoid the bitter/boozey taste of the alcohol-based extracts. <a href="http://www.vitacost.com/nunaturals-pure-liquid-stevia-alcohol-free-2-fl-oz-3" target="_blank">NuNaturals</a> is my favorite brand for stevia. </li>
<li><strong>Vegan</strong> <strong>Proteins (when you aren't cleansing):</strong> My favorite "pure protein" powders are <a href="http://www.vitacost.com/navitas-naturals-organic-raw-hemp-protein-powder-12-oz" target="_blank">Navitas Naturals Hemp Protein</a> (I find this is the least "chalky" of the plant based proteins out there) and <a href="http://www.vitacost.com/source-naturals-pea-protein-power-16-oz" target="_blank">Pea Protein</a> (a little chalky, but relatively mild). They are both very low calorie and have few/no additives. </li>
<li><strong>Vegan Proteins:</strong> (with added supplements for <strong>cleansing periods</strong> or to use in <strong>meal replacement</strong> shakes): <a href="http://www.vitacost.com/plantfusion-the-original-plantfusion" target="_blank">Plant Fusion (Original)</a> or <a href="http://www.vitacost.com/vega-sport-performance-protein-chocolate" target="_blank">Vega Chocolate Sport</a> (I don't like Vega Vanilla - too artificial tasting)</li>
<li><strong>Coconut Water: </strong>This really is based on personal preference,<strong> (</strong>I prefer <a href="http://zico.com/" target="_blank">Zico</a>,) but whatever you select, make sure there's no sugar or other fruit juice added)</li>
<li><strong>Almond Butter:</strong> For most of my smoothies, I love <a href="http://www.vitacost.com/once-again-crunchy-no-salt-almond-butter-16-oz-3" target="_blank">Once Again Crunchy</a> or I'll settle for 365 Brand as a back-up. For "comfort smoothies" or sometimes as a treat on brown rice bread, I go for the <a href="http://livesuperfoods.com/jem-cinnamon-red-maca-almond-butter.html" target="_blank">Jem Maca Almond Butter</a>. I can't begin to tell you how amazing this stuff is, you've got to try it yourself. Try to ignore the price in anticipation of raw food bliss. Even if its just one time ;)</li>
</ul>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392390997287413284.post-86024810833133183062013-09-29T18:59:00.003-07:002013-10-09T19:01:23.548-07:00Happiness
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I woke up this morning feeling happy, healthy and
clear-minded - as if a big fat dose of perspective had invaded my body
overnight, infusing each and every cell with a blissful state of
awareness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I feel this way, when my
first thought of the day emerges with a smile and a sense of gratitude, my
second thought is often “why can’t I feel and think this way all the time?”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The reflexive answer, simply put, is that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">life</i> gets in the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Illness, loss, family, jobs, stress, hormones
-get in the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But that’s not the real
reason I don’t feel and think this way all the time. Sure, the aforementioned
can muddy the waters of true, deep happiness – but more often than not it isn’t
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">life</i> that gets in the way, it’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">me</i>. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Bottom line: I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">could</i>
feel and think this way more often if I could just learn to leave myself alone.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead, within a month of settling into
a positive, healthy state of mind, my tireless need for self-improvement usually
sneaks up on me and reminds me not to rest on my laurels. An enticing career or
personal challenge proves a little too attractive and in the blink of an eye,
the perfectionist in me is empowered by success or fueled by the threat of
failure. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Just be” is replaced with
“just do” and potentially unhealthy expectations. Before I know it, I’m pushing
myself harder than I should without conscious awareness. The kicker? I inevitably
start to do the same to those around me.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I watch many of the women I know do a regrettably effective
job of encumbering clarity and content with similar cyclical behavior all the
time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Think about it. You know how good
you feel when you take care of yourself; break free from habits that weigh your
physical and mental health down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet you
might meditate every day for 3 weeks before you’re back to reading your email
with one sleepy eye as soon as the alarm goes off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe you made it 2 months in a wellness routine
full of weekly workouts and healthy home cooked meals before you went back to takeout
3 times a week and frequenting your favorite restaurants in lieu of the gym. It’s
beyond discouraging to feel doomed to repeat your mistakes at the expense of
your own happiness. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So what to do? How do you stop getting in the way of your
own happiness? If I knew the end-all be-all answer, I would be meditating on a
beach somewhere naked instead of writing this, but I can tell you a few things
that have helped me tremendously over the past few years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<ol>
<li><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Remind yourself that you deserve to be happy. Every day. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A sense of self-worth is a HUGE brick in the foundation of happiness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It doesn’t matter if you have to put it on a post-it note on the fridge or tattoo it on the back of your hand – just find a way to reinforce that you deserve to be happy as often as possible. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Take a few minutes each day to think through things that you're thankful for. Consider keeping a little gratitude journal and jot down just 1 or 2 things each day that make you smile. A little positive reinforcement goes a long way when life gets overwhelming - no matter how bad things get, there's always <em>something</em> to be happy about. </span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Identify at least one activity - that is yours and yours alone - that makes you feel peaceful and content. Find time to do it on</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">ce a week. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Calibri;">If you’ve identified things that stand in the way of feeling positive about your life, share them with someone. Sometimes saying something aloud is enough to loosen its grip on you. Example: “When I’m at home all day with the kids by myself, I feel really lonely and sometimes sad.” (Stay away from the blame game; try to objectively identify things that encumber your life experience without pointing fingers.) </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Calibri;">If you want to take things a step further, engage someone you trust in helping you be accountable for working against yourself. Maybe even ask your partner to help identify proactive measures. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Example: <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told B that I know I take healthy eating to extremes sometimes and stress myself out about avoiding allergens 100% of the time. I asked him to help me create awareness around that tendency and to keep an eye out for obsessive behavior. I don’t always want to hear it when he catches me stressing and voices concern, but there’s nothing more effective than seeing yourself through a loved one’s eyes. </span></li>
<li><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Practice self compassion. Don’t beat yourself up when you fall off track. Punishing yourself for lack of discipline, focus or awareness is a terrible waste of time that will only perpetuate unhealthy cycles. Instead take the time to think through why you got black out drunk when you only meant to have one cocktail. Challenge yourself to learn from your moments of weakness.</span></li>
<li><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Ask yourself as often as you can, if what you’re doing makes you happy. Life is too short to waste time with things that lack short or long term gratification. Of course it’s unrealistic to assume that every moment of ever day will be spent frolicking through meadows and playing with puppies. But it is certainly ok to demand some form of fulfillment, joy or satisfaction from our jobs, relationships, personal time and every moment in between. You do deserve to be happy after all. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></li>
</ol>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392390997287413284.post-21043671484141147542013-09-15T17:49:00.002-07:002013-09-24T21:13:19.382-07:005 Reasons to Binge-Watch "Orange is the New Black" ASAP<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It somehow manages to be socially relevant, culturally
provocative <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">and</i> a guilty pleasure. I
can’t remember the last time a TV drama inspired binge-watching the same way
this Netflix series did. I also don’t think I’ve ever reflected on both our</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> inability to overcome tribal instincts in favor of
humanitarianism <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">and</i> the profoundly
corrupt American correctional system all in the span of 1 week. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Piper isn’t entirely unlike SJP’s Carrie on Sex & the
City. She’s likable enough to identify with her at least on occasion, and when
you can’t identify with her you still feel sympathy for her struggle. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’s a modern-day “everywoman” just like
Carrie. She’s also shallow, narcissistic and selfish enough that you can keep a
safe, slightly judgmental distance from her in her darkest hours. Her character
flaws are not your own, right? Or are they? </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The characters are so cleverly developed that you begin to
forget they don’t actually exist. I lived for the well-timed insight into each
character’s true nature and clung to clues of what landed them in prison.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was anxious to “get to know” each one
better. Their stories unfold artfully, and before you know it you start to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">feel</i> things for them. Anger, sadness,
pity, disgust - as if these women are real and have affected your life somehow. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Watching Piper devolve and evolve at the same time forces
you to consider what kind of person you might be if you too were stripped of your
perceived identity, security blankets and everything that makes you feel happy
and whole. If you were thrown into a pit with a mix of sheep in wolves
clothing, wolves in uniform and plain old crazy-ass tigers, would you start to
act like an animal too?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your answer will be different after you watch the whole series. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">On that note. You end up more creeped out by your own self
realizations than Piper’s. The writers do a phenomenal job of challenging
viewers to acknowledge how easily one of the many stupid mistakes we’ve made in
our lives could have landed us in prison. We are all at the mercy of fate, law
enforcement, timing, privilege - and there is potential injustice in all of aforementioned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392390997287413284.post-57774956816175803892013-09-08T20:35:00.001-07:002013-09-24T21:13:04.493-07:00Learning to WalkEating a clean, healthy diet rich in nutrients and full of well-balanced meals every single day is not easy. Anyone that tells you it's effortless is lying or wealthy enough to afford a personal shopper and chef. But I will promise you this, it's well worth it and it does get <em>easier</em>. It's kind of like learning to walk. At first, you're a mess. You fall all over the place, you can't stop getting in your own way, you trip over your own feet. Similar to finding your balance as a child and learning to walk, eating healthy is eventually both liberating and rewarding. You just have to get past the part where you feel like a drunk who's stumbled out of his bar stool and been thrust out onto Wall Street at lunch time.<br />
<br />
Constantly exploring new recipes and cuisines has really helped me "learn to walk." Expanding my repertoire makes it far easier to "stay on the wagon" for longer periods of time. I believe variety and a little adventure ensure modified diets don't feel like deprivation. You have to have fun, love what you're eating and feel truly satisfied after ever meal.<br />
<br />
There has been a lot of trial and error (and many an epic failure) involved in building my personal book of crave-worthy recipes. replacing bad habits with good and developing new eating habits is difficult enough. Allow me to spare you the traumatizing moments with nutritional yeast by sharing some of my successes. This one is crave, drool and certainly leftover worthy!<br />
<br />
<img alt="garliccrustchicken10" class="attachment-post-thumbnail wp-post-image" height="425" src="http://blog.cleanprogram.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/02/garliccrustchicken10-e1360674384799.jpg" width="640" /><br />
<br />
<em>Clean Program-Inspired Almond Crusted Chicken</em> <div>
1 egg plus 2 tablespoons almond milk (unsweetened)</div>
<div>
1 cup almond meal (pulse whole, dry-roasted, unsalted almonds in a food processer until you achieve texture in photo above)</div>
<div>
1 teaspoon sea salt</div>
<div>
1 teaspoon garlic powder</div>
few dashes of paprika<div>
1 large or 2 small boneless chicken breasts (1/2 - 3/4 pound)</div>
<div>
Olive Oil</div>
<br />
<ol>
<li>Preheat your oven to 425 and cover a baking sheet with foil. Spray the surface with olive oil mister (or other cooking spray)</li>
<li>Filet the chicken breasts </li>
<li>Beat egg with a fork in a medium bowl; add almond milk (use a bowl large enough to dip chicken filets in)</li>
<li>Combine the almond meal, sea salt and garlic powder in a large bowl </li>
<li>Dip chicken in the egg/milk mixture and then in the almond mixture, until well coated</li>
<li>Place the filets on the baking sheet and drizzle lightly with olive oil</li>
<li>Bake for 6 minutes, rotate tray and bake for 6 more minutes</li>
<li>Cut into one of the filets to ensure it's fully cooked, (the thick almond coating can make it difficult to feel for doneness.) </li>
<li>Serve over a salad of mixed greens + 1/4 avocado with oil and vinegar or with sautéed swiss chard!</li>
</ol>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392390997287413284.post-12643581849033710682013-07-31T20:28:00.000-07:002013-09-24T21:12:50.672-07:00Chocolate Cherry Crack Shake<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I want to prove exactly how delicious, satisfying, energizing and crave-worthy my healthy shakes can be, this is what I whip up to turn even the harshest critic (B) into a believer. I feel like Superwoman when I start my morning with the perfectly balanced combination of protein, healthy fats, fiber and greens. Nourishing your body and mind sets the tone for the day in a way simply nothing else can. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">B had one sip of this and said "Jesus. There's spinach in that? And that goofy hippy protein powder too?" I chose not to mention the other "goofy hippy stuff" at that moment, but even now that he knows what's in there, he still asks for it at least once a week. Now that is a good shake.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><u>Liz's Triple C Shake</u></strong></span><br />
<strong><u><span style="font-family: Arial;"></span></u></strong><br />
<div class="ecxMsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 Cup unsweetened almond milk (I like 365 Brand or Engine 2 is the best)</span></span></div>
<div class="ecxMsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 Cup frozen dark sweet cherries</span></span></div>
<div class="ecxMsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1-2 Tablespoons plain unsweetened almond butter (Also like 365 Brand) </span></span></div>
<div class="ecxMsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 Teaspoon ground cinnamon</span></span></div>
<div class="ecxMsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 Teaspoon vanilla extract (I prefer alcohol free)</span></span></div>
<div class="ecxMsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1-2 Tablespoons raw cacao (Navitas Naturals is a great brand if you can't find cacao in your health food store bulk bins. Note: If you add Vega Chocolate protein powder per below, start with 1 tablespoon raw cacao)</span></span></div>
<div class="ecxMsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 Scoop Vega chocolate protein powder (or Plant Fusion unflavored protein powder is my 2nd go-to)</span></span></div>
<div class="ecxMsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1-2 Cups fresh spinach </span></span></div>
<div class="ecxMsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 Tablespoon chia seeds</span> </span></div>
<div class="ecxMsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Optional: 1 Teaspoon Spirulina. Skip this the first time you make it though, SP can "dirty" up the gorgeous flavor of this shake</span></div>
<div class="ecxMsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"></span> </div>
<div class="ecxMsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Throw everything in a blender in the order listed above (or in any order if you have a Vitamix, lucky dog) and blend until smooth. Enjoy!</span></div>
<br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392390997287413284.post-83907467144450800532013-07-21T19:53:00.000-07:002013-07-21T19:53:16.374-07:00Crack Whore Patty<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Crack Whore Patty was my alter ego in college. For the sake
of not repeating the word “whore” over and over again, let’s call her “CWP.”
CWP was born a little seedling in high school, when I discovered alcohol and my
love of partying. The unencumbered joy, the laughter and dancing, the
excitement was all addictive – as it is for most teenagers. But I didn’t love
drinking for the same reason most teenagers love it. I’m pretty darn sure I
loved it for the same reason most 70-year-old salty sailors with innumerable
illegitimate children love it – because it was a ticket to freedom from
self-imposed pressures that otherwise felt inescapable. After a few drinks, I
felt as close to weightless and worry-free as it was going to get for me. I
didn’t worry about school or making my dad proud or letting people down. I
didn’t worry about boys liking me or question if I was funny enough or pretty
enough. I just let myself be. It was like a long awaited exhale every time. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The escape offered by cheap rum drinks and warm beer proved
too alluring by freshman year of college, when the CWP seedling had blossomed
into one of those carnivorous Venus-fly trap plants. I started to push the
limits for what was “normal” drinking and partying and was hungry for that
freedom all the time. I’m sure there are old classmates that would tell you
they questioned if I was an alcoholic in training. I’ll be the first to admit I
had already left one of the training wheels back in the summer between high
school and college. My best friend spent most of college gluing the second
training wheel back on, gently asking in the morning if I remembered her
dragging me home from the curb I insisted upon “resting” on for a few minutes
outside the bar. I never remembered. I only drank when everyone else was
drinking and partying though– never mind that was 3-4 nights a week and
sometimes on Sunday Fun-days – so I never had any motivation to question if
there was something <i>different</i> about my drinking. And of course who wants
to question that when you’re in college. No one. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I couldn’t get bombed fast enough in those days – it was
like running 100 mph at a brick wall. Drunk hit me hard and fast, but the wall
was a <i>break</i> from that side of myself that grew increasingly exhausting
–the side that worried about the future and supporting myself and making
everyone around me happy. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tore into
cocktails (of any kind) or beer (of the cheapest kind) and within no time I shattered
the microscope I always put myself under. That’s when CWP would emerge. She had
the time of her life and made sure everyone else was having the time of their lives
too. She was wild and you never knew what she’d do next, but you could bet it
would be funny and often a spectacle. She had a blast and she never worried
about tomorrow. Never. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sometimes CWP would black out her teeth and rat her hair and
sing songs in her underwear on a stool in the living room, cigarette dangling
from her hand, one eye crossed (I can still do that), southern whiskey drawl
spot-on. Other times she would get mouthy defending the honor of a friend
against a Boston bridge-and-tunnel chick who could have nailed her to the wall.
Thank god that scrappy alter-ego was a fast “flight” responder to fear. She
would have hysterical conversations with serial killer cab drivers in French, walk
home barefoot through the Back Bay alone, spend money she didn’t have bouncing from
bars to parties to bars again with people she barely knew. No matter what the
night entailed, she was certainly the “life of the party,” at least until she
had to be carried home. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">CWP insulated herself with the fiercest of friends and
endless wild nights but there was an obvious price. She didn’t date anyone
seriously all through college because she was “having too much fun,” (when she
wasn’t too steeped in PAD and slept <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>through class) but she was really just afraid
of getting hurt or rejected. She knew she couldn’t expect the level of respect
and kind of love she deserved as long as she partied the way she did – she was
at least smart enough to know that. But she felt powerful and free and on top
of the world when she drank. She hated feeling vulnerable so she chose partying
over companionship. Ironically, that felt safer to her. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">CWP dissolved by morning and I woke up depressed and lonely.
I was sad a lot of the time but even in daylight I knew I was supposed to be
the tough one, the fun one. I never wanted to be a downer so I hid how affected
I was by the drinking as much as I could. (My roommates might find that
laughable when they recall all the times they found me sleeping by the door
with a blanket, pillow and bottle of orange soda. Not much hiding there.) <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">CWP made it difficult to decipher if I drank until I lost
control because I didn’t feel good about myself or if I didn’t feel good about
myself because I drank until I lost control. It was a “chicken or the egg”
thing. Either way you look at it – I simply didn’t feel good about myself most
days back then. I was lost. I was stuck. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Drinking had introduced me to the cycle of sin
now and atone later. I thought if I balanced out the “party” with enough “punish”
then I wouldn’t do too much damage- to my grades or my body or my reputation. What
I didn’t understand was that the damage was already done – if only through the
inception of that loop of self-destruction. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It took me a long time to understand that I wasn’t ever
going to move forward towards success, happiness, or a fulfilling relationship
if I didn’t leave CWP and her unhealthy cycle of sinning and atonement behind.
I might have gone a bit too far in the control-freak direction, but it’s better
than the self-loathing that was de rigeuer in those days. I’m not ashamed of what
I went through, it’s an important part of who I am, but the untapped potential
and damage I did in those years is nothing to be proud of either. I never loved
that lifestyle and it sure didn’t love me back. Self-control, discipline, and a
strong will to be kind to myself and my body have given me a life that I love
and lots of things (and people) that love me back the way I deserve to be loved.
There just isn’t room for CWP in my life anymore. She might be entertaining and
the life of the party, but she’s the high-priced hooker of alter-egos – she
charges a price you’re not willing to pay.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392390997287413284.post-75714515470606954172013-07-19T17:45:00.000-07:002013-07-19T17:49:49.725-07:00Option C<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">I put a lot of pressure on
myself. Some would say my level of discipline and self-control borders on
intense. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tend to push push push myself
until hitting a release valve is necessary. Decompression usually comes in one
of 3 forms. If I'm being self-aware enough to recognize the need, I'll give
myself a “me” day which ideally includes </span>Pilates, a green juice, a walk
to the Golden Gate Bridge, an enormous fresh salad , a chick flick and bed by
11 pm. One day like that and the world is new again. If I fail to be so preemptive,
my brain does me the service of automatically downshifting into “safe mode” whether
I like it or not. I walk around like a zombie on auto-pilot for a week or two
operating at ½ the speed I normally do, incapable of even the most rudimentary
forms of multi-tasking. I forget my keys; I can’t remember if I unplugged the
curling iron or closed the apartment door behind me; I don’t even consider carefully
planning meals, workouts and social engagements around a highly productive work
week. <span style="color: black; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">If my workload and social schedule
don’t allow the luxuries of option A or B, and I’ve gone too long in “high
functioning mode” option C just <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">happens</i>.
And by “happens” I mean “creeps up behind me, shoves me in a burlap sack and
takes me for a ride.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Option C sneaks up at least
once a year and starts with a cocktail and the idea that maybe I can be like
most 30-something adults who find repose in a happy hour drink or two.
Somewhere in the middle of a bottle of champagne with the girls or my sisters, option
C becomes the best idea ever. Uproarious laughter and gossip ensue, dancing in
the kitchen while </span>butchering the words to our favorite songs is often
involved and next thing I know I’m sucking down a nasty cigarette (sober, I
balk at anyone smoking in public poisoning me with their black tar). Unfortunately,
those nights are usually punctuated with mindless eating (always things I’m
allergic to) and regressive, slightly trashy behavior. I always end them standing
in the kitchen in my underwear hacking at a pint of ice cream with a spoon
thinking “I dessssserb dissss. So. Gud. 95% of time. Must shit relessse valb 5%
time. Nom nom nom.” </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Option C is favored by most
of my friends, the stuff of lore for my colleagues and likely a breath of fresh
air for B – although he would never admit to that. </span>People get a kick out
of seeing the perennially controlled girl lose control a little. Most everyone I’ve
gotten close to after college wonders (often aloud) why I don’t do it more
often. “Who cares if you go wild 5% of the time, especially when you’re so
disciplined 95% of the time?” they ask. “It’s good to decompress! Why don’t you
do it more often?” </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s not just the painful stomach cramps from eating like a
fat kid or 3 days spent clawing my way out of the PAD (post-alcohol-depression)
abyss. It isn’t the wasted day of crying over that damn Sarah McLaughlin SPCA
commercial with a bag of peanut M&M’s in my hand. It isn’t even the frustrating
3 pounds that appear in an instant and take 2 weeks to counteract. (It used to
be only 4-5 days damn it.) <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s how they
come together to form a reminder of a weaker, sadder, lonelier side of myself
that I’ve spent the last 10 years fighting to leave behind. My inner strength,
my confidence, my self-awareness, my <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">happiness</i>
are all interdependent with the level of discipline I now employ. I’ve fought
and overcome a lot of family, emotional and physical battles in my life
already, and self-control is the glue that keeps me together, it’s what keeps
me moving forward. These things are the keys that have unlocked doors to a
healthier, more balanced version of me - one that is happier than I ever
thought I could be. Without them I would still be Crack Whore Patty, spinning
around in the same drunk circles of dysfunction. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I suppose to truly understand why, one must get to know
Crack Whore Patty. I will introduce her shortly. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392390997287413284.post-28380788550692532162013-06-16T17:07:00.001-07:002013-07-19T17:50:59.688-07:00Screw Hunger! (More on the Clean Program)<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I can’t starve myself.
No matter how pretty the book jacket, handsome the doctor or cute the
packaging, if deprivation is at the core of a regimen or lifestyle, it’s not
going to work long-term for me or anyone else with a beating heart. Unless
you’ve got a little crack stash in your purse, you won’t fare well with hunger.
Take it from someone who tried it first in the 6th grade, and then again in
high school, and probably a few times in college – hunger equals failure. Trust
me, I was 30 pounds heavier (sometimes a little more) when I screwed around
with deprivation. It messes with your mind and your metabolism. And it makes
you a little sad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or permanently pissed
off. Either way, not worth it. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The Clean Program
isn’t exactly a piece of cake, but it’s a hell of a lot easier than being
hungry or frustrated with unexplained physiological changes. You have to wrap
your head around a few temporary habits (most notably, the absence of chewing
in the morning and at night) and hopefully adjust to some that will become new
lifestyle choices. The “holy shit” moments when you discover what has been
causing heart burn or constipation or mood swings for 15 years make the
uncomfortable moments well worth it. You might get a few headaches or be
inconsolable every morning when you first ditch the coffee, but in return for
your sacrifice you get a front row seat to the most engrossing science
experiment you can imagine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was
fascinating to watch what was happening to my body as I removed all the gunk
that was clouding my self-awareness during recovery and in some cases, for
years before. In the end I enjoyed an unprecedented level of clarity around the
interdependent relationship between food, alcohol, sleep, stress, exercise and
elimination that I pray I don’t lose as time wears on.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">You begin with an
elimination period, during which you remove common allergens and toxic triggers
including gluten, dairy, nightshades, corn, soy, peanuts, red meat, processed
meats, alcohol, sugar and more. (I know you’re thinking “what the hell can I
eat?!” Put down the Cheetos and read the book before freaking out. ) Your next
step is to transition to liquid meals in the morning and evening. You’ll be
surprised by how fulfilling these high protein, high (good) fat, high fiber,
extremely nutrient dense smoothies and soups are. You can have fresh juices in
between “meals” and snacks like apples with almond butter or raw veggies and
hummus if you need more. Your solid meal (at lunch) might be grilled chicken
with mango and wild rice (a favorite of mine) or lamb skewers with apple and
onion (another favorite.) </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The first few days
will range from a little tough to terribly miserable, depending on how many
toxins are in your pre-existing diet. I have an uncommon amount of allergies
and because I don’t love acne, rashes and weeks of constipation, I avoid dairy,
gluten and processed foods as much as I can stand to. The first 3 days for me
mostly included sugar cravings, random sneezing fits and a desperate need for
naps I obviously didn’t have the time to take. I also missed chewing a lot in
days 2-3. Beyond that, the “withdrawal period” was kind of like PMS –
inconvenient and irritating, but not life-altering. If you are used to 3 cups
of coffee every morning, 2 glasses of wine every night, pizza or burger lunches
followed by afternoon fro-yo, a cigarette or two after dinner and ice cream in
front of the TV before bed, you might have black-outs and seizures in the
withdrawal period. That may or may not be an exaggeration, but if that’s your
jumping off point, the first few days will be more difficult for you than they
are for people that have healthier, cleaner habits to begin with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just sayin. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">While you’re eating
amazing whole foods like fresh fruits and veggies, seeds, nuts, quinoa, wild
game, fish and more and drinking unexpectedly satisfying smoothies and soups,
you take some supplements and drink beverages like lemon water or “Natural
calm” to help the process along. You’re also to ensure you get enough sleep,
hydrate well, exercise more moderately, poop every day, and always leave a 12
hour window between your last meal of the previous day and your first meal of
the day. You’re also encouraged to do some optional activities that help your
body cleanse, restore and rejuvenate its systems. Meditation, massages,
laughter, wellness education, journaling, and more massages were my favorite
additions. In essence, you take amazing care of yourself for about a month.
It’s a total labor of love - just for you. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Along the way you’ll
likely experience peculiar side-effects that are less bothersome and more
encouraging. They underscore the effects of what we consume on our bodies and
almost restore your faith in the theories as you move forward. I was like a
poster child for the mild side-effects and I freakishly enjoyed that. It
validated what I was doing and made me feel increasingly excited for what came
next. If the book was so right about the wild vivid dreams, headaches, and
sleep patterns, those stories about the glowing skin, energy surges, clockwork
regularity, mood stabilization and clarity must be true too! And they were. </span></span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">By the end of the Clean
Program, I felt healthier, stronger, more in control of my body and more
comfortable in my own skin than I ever have. Yes, I’ve done a lot of prep work
over the past 10 years, but I believe the program pushed me over the threshold
to a new level of feeling in tune with my physical and emotional needs. It gave
me the nudge I needed to return to being kind to myself, inside and out. The lymphatic
swelling I’ve had in my right leg for over 2 years dissipated to almost
nothing. Miraculously, the spinal and peripheral nerve pain I’ve grown
accustomed to was reduced to a quiet hum at worst. My digestion has finally become
as predictable as my morning alarm. I left the house one morning and turned to
B and said “my skin hasn’t looked this good since I was a baby.” I was very
serious. He agreed. My hair and nails felt stronger, my skin tighter. The
puffiness under my eyes went away, as did the lingering water retention and bloat
I experience from cheating with dairy and wheat. I could go on and on. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Trust the “tried
everything once former fat kid.” There are no quick fixes with weight loss or
whatever it is that ails you. There are band-aids, yes, but the most logical,
intuitive approaches to wellness are the ones that will work long term. Whether
or not you decide to try the Clean Program, start with small changes and build
upon them at a pace that is comfortable for you. Do the best that you can with
the body you were born with, the resources you have access to and the means at
your disposal. Set realistic but ambitious goals so you aren’t setting yourself
up to fail but you feel triumphant and proud of yourself when you reach
milestones or start to feel the benefits of your healthier choices. Whatever
you do, make a commitment to yourself. Ultimately, that’s what it’s all about.
Commitment. If you can manage to honor a commitment to your mental and physical
well-being at least most of the time, the rest will follow. It really will. </span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392390997287413284.post-62284354318658166642013-06-09T14:31:00.004-07:002013-07-19T17:50:59.691-07:00Clean Program Part 2<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I ordered “Clean” by
Dr. Alejandro Junger on Amazon and began reading it within a few days. By the
time I picked up that book, it had been 8 months since surgery, my wedding was 3
months away, I was still in pain every day and my body simply did not feel like
my own. I wanted to dance at my wedding without fearing the price I might pay
for a twist or dip into my fiancé's arms. I wanted to feel like myself again and
eliminate the temptation of old familiar habits and comforting myself with
food. I was sick of feeling weak and vulnerable. I had a lot of healing to do. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember reading the book’s subtitle, “The
Revolutionary Program to Restore the Body’s Natural Ability to Heal Itself” and
thinking, “yes please.”</span></span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"></span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"></span><span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The book opens with powerful
stories of healing and dramatic health changes that were surprising enough to
me to inspire nothing but skepticism at first. But I kept reading (I was really
in that “I’ll try anything” place,) and eventually I got to a point where I
kept nodding my head at the book like a weirdo (by myself on the bus,) or
widening my eyes with childlike excitement (which B found rather entertaining.)
Once I got through enough of the anecdotal evidence, read about Dr. Junger’s personal
experiences with stress, diet and lifestyle, and skimmed over the familiar basics
on toxicity, I thought “Jesus. This makes a lot of sense.” <em>(Full disclosure:
you’re not going to politically or philosophically agree with everything the
guys says. And in my opinion, you don’t have to. That would just be bizarre. But
try to keep an open mind and entertain the idea that he is on to something.)</em> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></span><span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In summary, Dr
Junger’s theory is that we create a war zone in our bodies by consuming
processed, inflammatory, acidic<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>- or in
a nutshell, harmful – food and beverages. Then we slather synthetic, funky
stuff on top of our bodies, in our hair, on our faces. Throw in toxic substances
in our homes (cleaning products, etc,) coming out of our cars and in the air we
breathe. Our bodies spend so much energy fighting all these internal, external
and environmental battles, that we are ill-equipped to face disease, illness,
stress or even silly things like food poisoning. We’re a bunch of sad sacks
with overwhelmed bodies and overwhelmed minds. </span></span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"></span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Clean” challenges you to remove as many of
the above barriers to overall health and well-being over a 21-30 day process
that requires mindfulness, discipline and focus. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wipe your slate clean so you can have a clear,
unadulterated understanding of what your body and mind need to operate as the
well-oiled machine it is intended to be. Help the machine "remove, restore and rejuvenate" through a series of pretty simple behavior modifications. Sacrifice a bunch of crap your body
doesn’t need anyway; instead nourish it with bold, bright, beautiful fruits and vegetables
and wonderful things like wild game and ancient grains. Go easy on yourself
while your body is doing the hard work of purging years of Twinkie plaque and
ice cream mucus. Help the process along with long walks, steams, meditation,
massages, plenty of sleep and rest. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Emerge feeling like a superhero. Yes, a superhero. That is the only way to describe how I started to feel by day 6. </span></span><span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">There is no other word that could communicate the combination of energy, clarity, happiness
and empowerment that this process yielded for me. </span></span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But, as is the case with anything worth <em>anything</em>
in life, it isn’t easy. Or cheap. Or comfortable. Or fast. But boy does it work. </span></span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"></span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"></span><span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>Next up: The Dirty Details
and Why They’re Worth Dealing With</strong><em> (You didn’t think I’d be all “sunshine and
roses” about it did you?)<o:p></o:p></em></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392390997287413284.post-1846537257748906702013-06-04T21:03:00.001-07:002013-07-19T17:50:59.687-07:00The Clean Program: Part 1
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Most of us are completely out of touch with our bodies. We’ve
been drowning out the signals sent by our digestive and nervous systems for so
long that it’s become difficult to isolate what ails us, and almost impossible
to define solutions. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every day, a
million different factors stand between us and our optimal state of well-being.
Work, stress, lack of sleep, familial and social demands, personal issues, poor
diets and more prevent us from feeling strong, healthy and clear minded. We
seem to save money and make time for everything and anything except what’s most
important – proactively caring for ourselves. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">To some people, recovery from spinal surgery might feel like
a game of Chutes and Ladders crossed with a painfully slow round of Monopoly. To
me, a physically and socially active, hard-working, always multi-tasking woman,
it was more like water boarding. About 8 months after having back surgery, I
was frustrated not only with the unexpected duration but with my inability to
stay on track with my usual healthy diet and exercise routine throughout
recovery. I tried like hell to keep my chin up and to keep perspective, but at
times recovery felt like an endless stretch of undulating pain and frustration
marked with milestones too small and far between to bear. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just when I started to feel like myself again,
I would have some setback or surge in nerve pain that sent me right to the
Peanut M&M’s or if it was bad enough, Suzie cakes. I could have taken pain
killers and zoned out in front of the TV, but that simply wasn’t an option for
me. Instead I engaged in a tug-of-war with my pain and recovery – refusing to
let it take anything away from me and demanding cupcakes as consolation. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I tried to ride it out with a smile on my face. God did I
try. But the inconsistent results of my consistent focus and determination left
me in uncharted territory. I felt completely and utterly powerless and that is
not a position I do well in. I did my best to avoid old habits every time the pain
crept back up or kept me awake at night, but as work intensified through the
winter and my wedding countdown began, it became increasingly difficult to
resist comforting myself with food (and then punishing myself with exercise or restricted
eating.) I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that I couldn’t fix myself and
move on. For the first time in years, there were days when I was dangerously
close to crossing the line between that weakened, vulnerable state and self-destructive.
At a time in my life when I needed to be more in tune with my bodies needs than ever, I simply couldn't afford to wrap myself in the ironically suffocating
comfort of old familiar habits. I knew I needed to do something dramatically different to pull
myself out before I got in any deeper. I had come too far to sink back into
those muddied waters. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I voiced my need to get back on track for good to a close girlfriend of mine after a weekend of debauchery in LA. She immediately suggested I look into the Clean Program. I entered the name into my phone's note pad and strolled out of the airport. Little did I know her recommendation would not only get me back on track with my diet and well-being, it would reduce my pain to almost non-existent, remedy some other minor nagging issues I had previously dealt with and most importantly, give me a sense of clarity and perspective I have never experienced before. </span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392390997287413284.post-42417406660780452392013-05-30T21:19:00.002-07:002013-07-19T17:50:59.690-07:00Take THIS Gwyneth Paltrow!<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Anyone that’s ever read my blog knows that I’ve struggled a
great deal throughout my life with body image and food issues. I was a chubby
little girl, a fat kid, an overweight adolescent and a “curvy” young adult. I’ve
shared some funny stories and made many a joke about my “fat kid days” now that
I have created distance between that person and the one that is writing this,
but the self loathing that tainted much of my youth and young adulthood was far
from funny. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have a great deal of empathy and compassion for any woman
who struggles with loving her body or being kind to herself. I know how
crippling and consuming it can be when you’re your own worst enemy. I know how
much time, energy and education it takes to break the seemingly unending cycle
with weight struggles. I understand that it takes a commitment to yourself and
loved ones to get to a place where you can manage to treat yourself well as
life propels you forward through each day as a student, career woman, wife,
caretaker, sister, friend and everything in between. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">When I moved to California I met a man who saw me the way I
wanted to see myself. I also found myself in a place that made it tremendously
easy to discover new ways to feel healthy and strong. That man and this place
helped me realize that I could view myself and the world through a different lens.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They helped me see that I deserved to be
happy. Somewhere around that time, I finally decided to be kinder to myself
inside and out. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now don’t get me wrong, I made that decision, but that doesn’t
mean that I’m always successful. I’m still totally an emotional eater – you’ll
find me on any airplane ride away from my sisters or best friends with a big
bag of peanut M&M’s and usually some Swedish fish too. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still have moments when I freak out over gaining
a few pounds, even though I know by now that everything evens out eventually.
Oh and I have to talk myself off a ledge when my pants get too tight. I don’t wake
up hugging myself and smiling at my tummy rolls every day. But regardless of
the peaks and valleys, one thing has remained a constant on this long and
winding road to self love and acceptance. I ALWAYS continue to educate myself.
I figure that if I can take one lesson away from every battle, if I can collect
scalps of those bastard demons along the way, then I will be stronger and
tougher and better to myself with each passing day. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(As disgusting as the mention of scalps is, it
is an appropriate reference given how ugly things can get when you go to war
with yourself.)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">20 years of different diets and exercise regimes , 2 nutritionists,
a naturopath, an acupuncturist, a Chinese herbalist, 3 douche bag therapists, a
mean pediatrician, a dermatologist, a kid who moo’d at me in math class, endless
books, blogs, magazines, diet gurus, yoga teachers, a few months in an
outpatient program, some more books and the unconditional love of one man and
one city morphed me into an open, honest, compassionate, very real, very well
informed “health foodie.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m like Gwyneth
Paltrow with a sense of humor, saddle bags, a fat kid past and a little
humility. I may not have her money, private chef, dedicated Pilates instructor
and kids with “creative” names, but I do have a rock star husband. He just can’t
sing like Chris Martin. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Although there’s no Gwyneth-style book in the works, I am
going to start sharing more of the information, resources and lessons I’ve
learned on my “try not to hate yourself for loving peanut M&M’s” journey. My
girlfriends love hearing the tips and tricks that make eating and living healthy
a little more manageable for your average Gwyn, and I love sharing. I just can’t
fight it anymore; this kind of thing is simply my wheelhouse. </span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392390997287413284.post-54933129953159028622013-03-09T19:20:00.000-08:002013-07-19T17:55:06.520-07:00shoulda coulda wouldaI moved out to California with my best friend. Less than a month later, I met the man I'm going to marry this May. Had the tables been turned, I would have wanted to hang myself. We were new to an unfamiliar city full of unfamiliar faces. It was her first time living more than a few hours away from her close-knit family and our close-knit group of friends. She grew up in the folds of a big Italian clan; they moved her in about 5 doors down the hall from me in the freshman dorms. We spent the next 5 years eating, sleeping, shopping, breathing together. We had each other and 4 other forces of life - all sources of strength, laughter and comfort. We left all that behind and moved out here with nothing but our friendship, just enough naivete to throw caution to the wind, 2 ratty blankets and one pillow. And then I met B.<br />
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B always loved her and still does. Everyone loves her. He also understood how important she was (and is) to me and he knew that to make me happy he had to try to make her happy too. He enjoyed her company and was content to get to know her while he got to know me. He cooked for us and brought us on weekend drives around the Bay Area to discover our new home. I wonder how many of those drives she spent wanting to go back to her old home.<br />
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I'd imagine she felt a sense of loss when I met him, but I can't say for sure what she felt because she's never spoken of the unfortunate timing. She's never uttered a word about how lonely she was. She never cried in front of me about it; she was chipper at best and quiet at worst. Sometimes she was really quiet for days on end and her face would get a little stiff like she wanted to slap me. I should have given her the chance to cry, to tell me it sucked. I failed her in those moments, I know that now. I was blinded by a childish need for her to be happy for me - I remember thinking that I had spent "forever" watching everyone else fall in love. So dramatic. I was 23. I hadn't spent forever doing anything. I remember thinking it was finally my turn to fall head over heels and have the world rejoice in my good fortune. I was young and self absorbed enough to believe I was entitled to support even if that translated to a lack of compassion for what she was experiencing. It's amazing how easy it is to justify being selfish when we're young. <br />
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She met someone in the 2nd year we were here. He was nice to her and offered companionship, but he was never the one. Her heart was too kind to see that, but her head never quite trusted him or her future with him and that made her anxious at times. He wasn't social and she is and that made me anxious for her. I started missing her soon after they met but I didn't think I had any place to complain about that. She supported me in the most unfortunate circumstances when I met my salty, wild, thirty-something stranger, I thought the least I could do was support her choice to be with this guy. I still wonder if I should have pushed more for them to come out to dinner with our friends or join us at happy hour. Maybe I spent too much time trying to learn to accept her choices and not enough time fighting for my friend. <br />
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I was relieved when she left him. I know that sounds terrible, but it's the truth. Everyone around her knows she deserves the world and he wasn't giving it to her. He didn't make her eyes sparkle. I was so scared she was going to marry him and never realize exactly how happy she deserved to be. He should have given her whatever she wanted and did whatever was needed to make her happy. She's that special. He wasn't smart enough to see he had hit the jackpot, but at least he was smart enough to realize he wasn't right for her. <br />
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When it ended with him, she didn't feel as if she had much to stay for. She started planning her exit almost immediately. I was hurt by how easy it was for her to pick up and go, but I understood why she was doing it - I'm a bit of a runner myself. I'll always wonder if I should have made it harder to leave, if I <em>could</em> have made it harder to leave with different choices along the way. I wasn't compassionate enough to what she must have been going through when I met B. I didn't fight for her when I saw her folding into her relationship with that jerkoff who wouldn't even give her a puppy. I didn't tell her how badly I wanted her to stay when she told me she was moving back to Boston. <br />
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She'll always be my best friend, even with all the should haves, could haves and would haves. I just hope she knows how much we both love her. Since she left, B and I both look back and wish we could have done something to make her stay. He sees how much I still miss her almost every day. I think he feels as if he took me from her. Maybe he did, in a way. Afterall, she was the first one to "give me away." My Dad will do so in May, but she was the first. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392390997287413284.post-87153767100768980322013-02-07T21:01:00.000-08:002013-07-19T17:54:46.037-07:00Dear Ladies (And Bubby and Kurt)This past weekend, you were kind enough to throw me a bridal shower. At the age of 30, when everyone a few years younger and a few years older is going through some sort of transition or major life change, I don't get many afternoons with 15 of my favorite people in one room. We've spent our time since high school and college falling in love and getting married, committing more time to building a life with lovers and partners. We've moved across the country to find ourselves or to return home again. We've taken jobs that have swallowed us whole for weeks at a time and trips to distant corners of the world. Some of you have had children and have bought homes in the suburbs. Some of the stories we've written together have been broken into chapters, the print faded on worn pages torn at the corners. And now we write new chapters only in the breaths between "life," but rarely are all the characters present. <br />
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This weekend, you gave me the gift of time with some loved ones that have helped me write epic chapters. I was reminded of how full my life is because of you. To my sisters, childhood and college friends and people that have made California home - you lift me up and make me feel young and strong and smart and funny. You make me proud of who I am. Your honesty and authenticity make me feel normal and loved and most of all, lucky. I draw my strength and wisdom from you. <br />
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Promise me we'll find enough space between getting old and taking life too seriously to keep writing chapters together. Please. <br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0