Hello all and the like!

A very cool friend of a friend of mine has a very cool blog called The Travel Empire.  After reading my recent love letter to Paris post, Meg, the creator of the blog and travel maven asked me to shoot her some posts when I have them.  I’ll be taking a little domestic travel this weekend that I cannot wait to write about.  In the meantime, please visit her site and check out the post I just wrote about a Black Taxi Tour I took in Belfast

This is definitely a memory piece because I took this trip a good 10 years ago.  The amazing thing about travel is that you get to have experiences that may physically/literally only last for one hour, but stay in your mind forever.  This cab ride has always stayed with me because of…well…read the damn post!* 🙂

*And be sure to “like” The Travel Empire on Facebook to catch up on the travels of Megan and her contributors (holy shitballs, that’s me!!!) that take them all over the world.

Peace and travels,



It is appropriate that I am a little tipsy on red wine while typing this…

…I miss Paris.  I miss it so much that my heart is bubbling with the tenderness of a rolled “R”.  When I go to Paris I feel full.  Sure, I may have just eaten half of my weight in cheese and filled the other half with muscles from Leon’s.  But that is not the kind of full that I mean.

There is a different oxegyn in Paris.  Anywhere else you will breath because your body tells you to.  In Paris breath exists so that we may enjoy life.  My breath in Paris pulls me forward…up the Champs Elyses and into a seat at Les Deux Magots.   Each corner bookstore is a new inhalation and there is sweet air.  Perhaps the air is sweet because of each patisserie on each street.  On my last trip to Paris each time I walked onto the Rue Cler in search of the freshest baguette this side of the Seine I was invegorated.  I don’t need the museums or the places you must go.  I just need Paris.  The streets are where you want to be and where you want to live because it’s where you can find the most Parisian air.  The streets walk themselves up and down and the curves of the Marais are as beautiful as a woman.  Imagine being a woman walking on those heavenly feminine curves.  Delicious!

Each time you step outside in Paris falling in love doesn’t even come close to how you feel.  Love is fleeting and flightly.  Paris stands as it is and will love you unconditionally as it becomes what you want it to be.


Where did you go?

Why did you forget about me, leaving me to wax the all alone poetic in the darkness of loneliness which forbids friendship?  Give a shit about me?  You didn’t even try.  I’ll say it’s your fault and I don’t care if I’m right because eventually I’ll get up before my ass splits from putting sitting in two chairs at once.

I’m sitting on a white sofa with a sore knee that I refuse to fix.  My birth control alarm is going off…won’t stop or even try to stop ringing and I know I should take my pill and I know I will because things always happen.  I just don’t feel like getting up right now.  Because I don’t feel like doing much of anything these days except for thinking about how I would have done things differently.  Scoff, laugh, and judge…stop, drop, and roll…all you want. 

Not living up to ones potential is incredibly time consuming, especially when I’m fully aware of what I should be doing.  When you do what you would rather be doing it’s effortless and time moves softly, like sheets and cotton and baby feet.  When you stop; resist; it’s like pushing through a room of honey walls.  I am exhausted from working through the mental torment of stopping when I should be running and thrusting backwards when I should be leaping forward.

Sitting sipping scotch never feels as good as pouring beer over your head, inhaling up each drop like it’s the last you’ll ever taste.

…the blog is back, bitches……………………..

Today I spent a few minutes walking without my glasses on (operation gets contacts in eyes still a no go…hoping for success this weekend).  I was sitting on a bench during my lunch break reading a new book I bought yesterday.  I’m amazed at what doesn’t bother me when it comes to my glasses.  Maybe it’s because I’ve been wearing them for 13 years, or maybe whoever it is who makes the decision of who has shitty vision and must wear glasses and who can see clearly (now, the rain is gone…sorry) makes these decisions based on personality.  I know some folks who could not deal with having spotty vision thanks to some blown up dust.  Take a breath, wipe it off, move on.

While I was reading I noticed a few of these dust spots so I took the spectacles off to give them a little brush.  It’s a beautiful day today, which brought out loads of men, women, etc.  I decided to just watch for a minute without the help of glasses.  Things were blurry but not entirely indistinguishable.  Sitting and watching without glasses, I found, made me feel very introverted and secretive.  Kind of like, “you don’t know this but you look like a smeared pencil mark”.  Is it wierd to think like this?  Oh well, even if it is, the mischevious little brat in me enjoyed the game.

As the clock struck “time to get back to work” I decided to do a mini experiment.  Again, something just for me that thrilled the hell out of me and only me.  I walked the short walk from the bench to my office without my glasses on, and here were a few things I noticed:

  • New thoughts such as “Oh shit, steps” and “Where does that end???” kept coming up.
  • Hesitence, hesitence, hesitence.
  • Smelled something burning but didn’t look around to see what it was…had to remain focused (see second bullet).
  • Felt cross-eyed most of the walk…hope that was just in my head.


Anyone else ever played around with vision?  Walked with your eyes closed?  Totally different feeling, isn’t it?

The bathroom is a sacred space, agreed?  We all know what goes on in there but we don’t talk about it.  It’s like a brothel, and like the goings on of a brothel, if what goes on is discussed in public we all get a little antsy in our pantsy.  Apparently many out there don’t share my feelings because I’m constantly getting roped into conversation as I step into the stall.  This is MY space and MY time.  My “how are you” question was hypothetical and drawn from politeness.

I know you dudes do some of your beeswax out in the open, but I was under the impression that once the fly goes down the invisible door goes up.

Also, please don’t stroll into the stall next to me and heave out a sigh of relief, exhaustion, frustration, or giddyness.  If any of those emotions have to do with what you’re doing right now, I don’t want to know about it…and I won’t ask!

Am I the only one who feels this way?  Am I the prude because I think that talking and whatever happens behind a bathroom stall door just don’t mix?

seriously considering wearing this whenever i use the facilities at work

Today is a good day.  I know I shouldn’t be shocked when days are good, but with all of the “who knows what’s gonna happen” stuff in my life right now it’s hard to have a day when I’m not letting in all of that “what if” mumbo jumbo.

Today is a good day because of the following:

  • Apartment Lead.  After Saturdays major let down (see a couple posts back) I’m nervous/maybe a little too hopeful.  Send good vibes, please.
  • Small World iced chai avec plus cinnamon.  Just…yea.
  • Pending arrival of Fall clothes from American Eagle signify a pending arrival of Fall!
  • Posts from The Fitnessista, a completely inspirational/entertaining blog that I have recently delved into.  Her posts have helped me become more confident with eating and more thoughtful about fitness.  MAKE THE BREAKFAST COOKIE!!!
  • The PhD application spreadsheet has been created!  Finally feel like I’m moving forward and seeing the info in its Excel glory really helps with that (until I look at the application fee column).
  • Yoga with Elise at In Balance Center tonight.  In the last class I had with Elise I did my first full bind EVER.  Excited to see what is to come tonight (though must remember–if the bind doesn’t come, it’s not meant to come right now).

Sorry for the lack of sarcasm if that’s what you were hoping for.  Trust me…there have been a few rolled eyes and giggles of the under the breath variety mixed in with the above.  Snark+Happiness+Cinnamon=The way to be. 😉

Today I bought a chocolate bar.  It’s not halloween, nor am I having a party this weekend.  I bought the bar because I have an addiction and I’ve learned that supressing a chocolate addiction can only lead to a double intake of chocolate, and a really shitty attitude.  As an “I don’t like my body” girl from the get go, I tend to view chocolate as something bad that should only be had during holidays and low self esteem days or weeks.  Recently, however, I started to realize that in order to be healthy and potentially slim down I need to eat the right kind of food and not live like a nutritional nun.

This weekend was filled with parties, pasta, and beer (sorry, but there was no Petrone).  I did a moderate yoga practice on Saturday morning using one of the videos on the Kripalu website, but other than that and some white girl dancing to gangsta rap dancing, there was pretty much no exercise.  Whenever I have a non-exersice weekend it makes me think of the things I want to change about my eating and physical activity…is that bad?

Anywho, on the drive home this afternoon I decided to stop off at Wegmans for some salad ingredients.  I get bored with the familiar  homemade ceaser salads and Panera strawberry/kiwi/lambs blood ones.  I picked up romaine hearts and organic Feta cheese.  In the cabinet at home (cupboard for any of you Canadian readers…there are SO many of you ;)), I had quinoa, carrots, cucumbers, an apple, and balsamic vinagrette.  Combine with a little mom’s homemade chai latte, and it was FANTABULOUS!  Perfectly satisfying and I can’t wait to experiment with other salad recipes!

my attempt at a thumbs up after my first bite

But wait…isn’t the word chocolate in the title of this post?  Am I playing a joke on you?  Am I using buzz words in a cheap attempt to get readers? Oh, foodie reader, how could you think that I would do that??  During my Wegmans trip I was in the organic/health food section and found myself standing right in front of an aisle of chocolate (aka Mecca).  Recently I heard a radio host talk about how she buys the really good chocolate and by doing that she can have just a couple pieces at a time and feel incredibly satisfied.  She said she also feels better because she buys the good chocolate that isn’t filled with massive amounts of sugar and ingredients that the worlds best linguist couldn’t pronounce.  With this in mind I bought a bar of 70% Divine Fair Trade dark chocolate.  I am SO looking forward to not just the eating, but the choco-goodness indulging.

For ONCE, I’m looking forward to the experience rather than just the food.

Any foods that you used to have a fear of but eventually learned to love, for whatever reason??