When my loved ones are in the air, I always track their flights. Flightaware.com. I always feel like I’m going to die when I’m on a plane, and always half feel like my loved ones are going to die when they’re on a plane. Tracking them makes me feel safer. (Obviously, this picture was taken before the events of last week, wherein I realized tracking my boyfriend’s flight over Ohio was absurd in the light of the rest of the world)
I don’t have any pets and my apartment is just not conducive to having them any time soon. So, I borrow them from my friends and neighbors. Steve’s roommate has Molly (strawberry blonde) and is fostering Rocket (adorable black haired, so named because he can jump like twice his height).
Gah, see how Rocket points a little bit with his right foot?! Precious!
Watching them go for walks together is also a hoot. Quite the odd couple. Oren straps their leashes to his belt in a nerdy look that deeply reminds me of my grandpa.
Yesterday Steve and I were going out to dinner and somehow it resulted in first deciding we were stopping at the library before dinner, then deciding we were taking the dog with us (hint: this was my decision. Steve’s roommate is out of town and poor little doglet is spending a fair amount of time in the crate between visits from doggie sitters. So his literal puppy eyes inspired me to take him out on the town). Then we decided (“we”) that we’d take Rocket for a walk after stopping at my place for my overdue library books. Then we decided (“we”. I’ll stop now. Assume it’s always me making dog-related demnads) that since we were walking by my friend’s apartment building, we should see if he was there with his dogs for a playdate. Then we all played together. Then we went to the dog park. Then I decided I wanted to be a dog. Then after the return from the dog park I fed Steve some emergency pizza slices to fortify him on the way to dinner. I love you Steve. Thanks for indulging in my animal neediness.
Went to a birthday dinner for Steve’s roommate. Not just to see the dogs… but they were there!
Grilled veggies and burgers. Chips and guac. All eaten al fresco.
Lots of begging ensued.
Can you even with Rocket’s little beard?!
Tasty tasty! I love overcooked cauliflower!
Then there was extremely decadent strawberry shortcake. I volunteered to help when I arrived at the boys’ place for the evening, and was put in charge of this. The cake has a cup and a half of heavy cream in it… just in the cake… not including the whipped stuff. Then the whipped stuff happened.
Some things about stuff.
I received an organic matcha powder sample from Kiss Me Organics (they sent me the sample for free but didn’t compensate me for a post).
It arrived and I admired its vibrancy while, I admit, being a little taken aback at the package’s size versus its price.
However, then I looked at its perfect ingredient list:
And then I gaped at the multitude of recipes contained in the complimentary cookbook that’s sent to your email when you make a purchase (I didn’t get this as a reviewer; it was sent automatically through Amazon when I made the purchase.)
Pan fried matcha chicken, anyone? Tuna burger with matcha ginger sauce? Green tea tiramisu? Quite exciting!
I ended up going with a boring but delicious choice. Vaguely inspired by this recipe, but altered based on my ingredients at home.
Let the record state: when you combine spinach, soy milk, frozen mango, and matcha green tea powder in a blender; after drinking it you will feel as though you can conquer the world. Perfect pick me up! The match flavor is pure, not harsh and tannin-y at all. It’s grassy in the most delicious possible way.
As for price point, it’s a lot. However, a teaspoon sized serving is more than enough to flavor an entire smoothie, so I’ve been using the stuff for months without making much of a dent in it. Plus, you’re getting organic, super-antioxidant-charged, concentrated doses of awesomeness. If you think of it as more of a supplement than a food, the price suddenly comes into perspective (seriously, can we think of any other organic supplements out there that don’t cost a gazillion dollars? Actually, if we can, tell me!)
The one thing I’d change is the packaging- every time you open the envelope, a little puff of the precious powder dissipates into the air! I don’t know the exact right solution to this problem, since the airtight seal is nice. But I’d encourage the Kiss Me Organics folks to get R+D on it :)
Speaking of crunchy purchases, I have become infatuated with many many Trader Joe’s cleaning and beauty products.
It started with the conditioner (right), which made my hair as smooth and silky as the stuff at the salon. And, it’s cheaper.
Then I bought the tea tree oil shampoo, since I am dandruff prone (yuck) and heard from my coworkers that tea tree oil shampoo deters lice (!!! I haven’t had lice since about second grade, just to firmly state that, but I do work with kids enough a little extra reassurance doesn’t hurt). It does indeed make my scalp tingle.
The jury’s still a little out on this stuff. I probably wouldn’t have bought it if I hadn’t opted to do my only grocery shopping for the week at Trader Joe’s when I was out of toothpaste. I’m crunchy, but I’m also a fan of fluoride. I like the fennel in it, but it’s also weird not to end a toothbrushing session with that minty fresh feeling.
Additional recommended crunchy products:
I just bought the detergent (left) today, and used it to wash my delicate underthings on the gentle cycle. It smells like lavender HEAVEN.
I bought the deodorant (center) on the recommendation of my coworker, when I told her I liked apricot Toms of Maine (my old standby) but that I didn’t feel as confident about my level of pit moisture as I’d like. I picked the “Ocean” scent because it reminds me of Steve’s deodorant, the smell of which I looooooooooove (it’s just musk Speed Stick :D) So far so good!
And the all purpose cleaner I’ve used for a month or two. It does a nice job scrubbing through kitchen grime but isn’t quite hardcore enough for the bathroom. The scent is STRONG- I don’t mind it but it reminds me a bit of Vaporub. I don’t mind that scent in the slightest, but others may.
Now that I’ve given Trader Joe’s some love, I will candidly admit that I HATED this:
I bought it because they were out of guacamole hummus, which I learned upon my return trip they had discontinued. This is because Trader Joe’s discontinues everything I like. I personally. It’s hurtful.
Anyway, it tastes like rancid grossness. Do not buy. In Trader Joe’s’ defense, I brought it back and they gave me an immediate refund, and the lady behind the counter not only assured me that she didn’t like it either, she also offered me a palate cleansing taste of her Avocado’s Number guacamole. Customer service!
Work has been nuts lately and I’m finally done with camp (whoo!) but instrumental in getting me through camp has been this amazingness:
I binge watched seasons 1 and 2 last summer and I’m going at season 3 in a serious way this one. Much like last summer, I’m finding myself deeply distrustful of humanity after watching a lot of episodes of this show, and sort of convinced that people might be out to kill me. I think the B-613 stuff has gotten a little stupid and excessive this season but (SPOILER ALERT) down in my heart I cried like a little baby when James died.
Finally, a picture that Steve took of me last summer that I’ve had sitting around for awhile trying to figure out if it was worth writing a blog post about.
My first thought (this is brutal honesty here) when I saw it was, “Oh my gosh! You’re not fat!”
So this led to a few thoughts, in no particular order.
1. Every picture that I ever see of myself I immediately label “You look fat” or “Oh my gosh, you don’t look fat!” It is terrible that this is my immediate, self-required assessment. It means that basically the only pictures of myself that I can enjoy looking at without making an obsessive value judgment are when I’m under the age of, say, 11.
2. As I’m sure many women can relate to, in any given day I feel as if my body can go through hundreds of incarnations. There are times I get so caught up in how awful I think I look on a given day (based, of course, mostly on how confident I feel in my job, my friendships, my relationship, etc. and not at all on how I actually look), that then when I actually find myself in front of a mirror I feel a little stunned and go, “Huh. You’re not horrifying looking. People are probably not obsessing over you as much as you think they are.” And of course they’re not. And I’m in a much better mental state than I once was. But still, I sometimes have to reassure myself that “I have the same build as x, so if people seem to be nice and not judging her they probably aren’t judging me either.” Yuck!
3. I feel guilt when I look at how I look in that picture. I go, “Seriously? How do you spend so much time feeling inadequate?! You have a healthy BMI and that picture clearly demonstrates that you have a nicely proportioned body. No cankles [a mean word only used about women but I’m baring my shallowest pieces of my soul here], no weirdly large thighs, no wimpy shoulders [thanks mom!]” Not only that, I’m extraordinarily lucky enough to be in basically perfect health. I’m not a Boston Marathon victim who has lost limbs. I get enough to eat, and have access to healthy food. How can I waste my time thinking about body stuff?!
4. I feel like I immediately have to take myself down a peg when I see that picture. “Yeah, but that was last summer, and you’ve totally gained weight over the past year. You haven’t been consistent about exercise at all. You’re such a sugar crackhead.”
5. Finally, I feel really sad that I can’t just look at the picture and think about a beautiful day by a beautiful waterfall with the person I love. I promise I’ve made progress, I promise my psyche is a prettier place than it’s been before. But, photos are clearly still fraught objects for me. Maybe someday?