I know that posting a recipe is considered a "cheater post", and I realize that chances are pretty slim that anyone besides myself ever makes the recipes that I post. Ask me if I care.
I'm posting a soup recipe today.
I made "Fresh Garden Chowder" and "Two Potato Chowder". I'm sure it will come as no surprise that my favorite of the two was the "Fresh Garden Chowder" (made with green vegetables) and Steve's favorite was the "Two Potato Chowder" which incidentally has bacon in it. (Yes, I had to bring bacon into my home again - but don't worry the unused bacon is sealed in a bag and hidden deep in my freezer.)
I probably wouldn't make the Potato soup again, simply because I am a selfish bitch and it didn't do as much for me as the Garden soup did. The Garden soup was awesome - and so I'm only posting the recipe for that.
FRESH GARDEN CHOWDER
1 1/2 tbsp cooking oil (WHAT???? I don't "do" that much cooking oil - instead I used a couple of sprays of Pam)
1 1/2 cups chopped zucchini (with peel)
1 cup chopped onion
1/2 cup chopped celery
2 tbsp All-purpose flour
3 cups chicken stock (low sodium chicken broth)
2 cups chopped, peeled potato
2 cups fresh spinach leaves, lightly packed, chopped
1 cup milk (skim of course!)
1 tbsp chopped fresh dill (or 3/4 tsp dill weed)
1/4 tsp salt
1/8 tsp pepper
1/4 cup crumbled feta cheese
Heat cooking oil (Pam) l in large saucepan on medium. Add next 3 ingredients. Cook for about 10 minutes, stirring often, until onion is softened.
Sprinkle with flour. Heat and stir for 1 minute.
Slowly add 1 cup stock. heat and stir until boiling and thickened. Add potato and remaining stock. Stir. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low. Simmer, partially covered, for 15-20 minutes, stirring occasionally, until potato is tender.
Add next 5 incredients. Stir. Cook for about 2 minutes until spinach is wilted. Carefully transfer 3 cups of soup to blender. Process until smooth. Return to saucepan. H eat and stir until heated through.
Sprinkle feta cheese on individual servings. (Sooooo gooooood)
Makes about 6 1/2 cups.
WW Points per ONE CUP serving: 3
Except that over the past 6 months I've been working on getting healthy and fit and losing weight and so the inside of my fridge has not seen bacon for a very long time. This also means that Steve has not had access to bacon for a very long time.
Steve really likes bacon. He has been asking lately for me to make some of my famous and most requested appetizers - bacon wrapped salmon chunks.
And then Saturday I was at the grocery store and guess what was on sale? Right. Bacon. So I spent a good fifteen minutes searching through the bacon, (as I always do) trying to find the leanest pound of bacon possible. I brought the bacon home and used all of six strips to make the salmon appies. Steve was so excited about it he may have peed a little.
So the next morning as I'm trying to get ready for the gym, Steve is asking about the rest of the bacon, which is in the fridge. What are we going to do with it?? Can we eat it for lunch?? Can we have it for dinner???
The difference between Steve and I? I can have a peice of bacon and then walk away. Steve needs to have the bacon until the bacon is gone, and then he wants more bacon. He is calling the butcher in the middle of the night looking for more bacon. He is at the pawn shop late at night trying to sell his wedding ring, so he will have more money for bacon.
I managed to deflect the bacon obsessing for the day. And I meant to put it in smaller packages and put it in the deep freeze for another time. Out of sight, out of mind. But I forgot.
The next day I went to work and Steve stayed home on his day off. Unsupervised.
Guess what he ate? Bacon and french fries. And then guess what he wanted me to make for dinner? Bacon. Bacon anything. I refused.
Fast forward to 5am the next morning. Mere seconds after the alarm went off, Steve leaped out of bed and headed downstairs. He never does that. I just figured that maybe he'd found a good porn site on the internet and wanted to check it out before I caught him. So I hit snooze a few times and then hopped in the shower.
And what did I smell the minute I stepped out of the shower??
I came downstairs to find him in front of the stove with spatula in hand and a big grin on his face - bacon fat spattering all over the stove. He just couldn't wait to get into the kitchen and cook up the last of his precious bacon. I'm surprised that he could even slept through the night with that bacon in the fridge.
I was afraid that when I got to the office they'd smell the bacon on me and... they'd know.
So now the bacon is gone. Gone for a long, long time. Clearly he has a "problem" and so it's not fair that I bring it into the house. He simply cannot control himself, and I cannot stand to see my husband go through such a crazed addiction again anytime soon. It breaks my heart.
I'm looking into putting him in a program.
Of course you all know that I am talking about my latest book purchase, The Heroin Diaries: A year in the life of a shattered rock star by Nikki Six. I've been contemplating buying this book for some time now but admittedly, stubbornly, I have put it off because everyone was making such a big deal about it. And I hate that. I am not much of a follower and generally don't like to do things that everyone else is doing. But while at the local bookstore yesterday there were stacks and stacks and stacks of the book and so I picked one up and flipped through it.
It is unlike any book I've ever read or even seen before. It is both beautiful and ugly at the same time. The pages are thick and almost metalic (??) feeling with bold illustrations. I read a couple of excerpts while standing in the store and soon found myself marching to the till eager and willing to pay the ridiculous "canadian" price.
And so last night I started reading and I couldn't stop. I love/hate it when this happens. If only I were a kept woman and didn't have to worry about getting up for work the next day - I would have read all night long.
Alas, I struggled to wake this morning after a late night of binge drinking, snorting coke to stay awake and repeatedly shooting heroin with Nikki.
I *highly* reccomend this book - although it's not for the faint of heart.
Footnote: Observant readers will have noticed that I have added a new feature, "What I'm Reading" to the right hand side of my blog.
Jesus, what was I to do??? I wanted to have some sort of contact with him so that he would know what a totally cool person I am.... but I couldn't think of anything that I could do or say that wouldn't make me look like a giant idiot. (Even though that has never stopped me before.) Not to worry though, as my sweet precious Quincy broke the ice. W.illie's dog came over to Quincy to sniff her and say hello and be friendly. Quincy was friendly back - for all of 5 seconds before she lunged and snapped at him.
I said, "Oh no Quincy! Bad girl! That's not very nice!"
But W.M. just laughed it off and said TO ME, "Oh ha ha... that's quite all right. She's just letting him know she's had enough of him."
So then I just lurked around the store and pretended to be looking at really expensive doggie stuff but all the while was trying to think of something clever to say. I managed to get myself close to W.M. again only to have Quincy snap and snarl at his pup again. Before I had a chance to say anything, W.M. laughed again and said TO ME, "No, don't worry about it. That's good for him. He needs to realize that not all dogs appreciate his over friendliness."
I am pretty sure that I responded to this, however I can't remember what I said. Whatever it was, I'm sure it was something witty and funny and charming.
Let it also be known that I did not say to Willie, "The boys sure needed you last night" or "How's the back??" nor did I whip out my camera (which was burning a hole in my purse) and beg for a picture of he and I and our dogs, nor did I take out my camera phone and pretend to be dialing a number while really snapping a picture of him (although all of these things ran through my mind). Because those things might have made me look like a complete loser. Instead I only looked like a semi-loser, following W.M. around the store while my dog tried to attack his.
But I needed to write something here because I was getting tired of looking at my pathetic crying face everytime I opened my blog. And I need it to take up enough space so that my crying face is pushed further down the page.
There, that should do it.
Why, you might ask?
You might ask if I was trying out for a sequal to The Crow?
No, I was not.You might wonder if I have decided to change my look to goth?
No, I have not.
You might wonder if I was testing out my Marilyn Manson makeup for next Halloween?
Not that either.
What I was doing was trying to fight off a really bad mood, and a headache, and maybe a bit of an anxiety attack too. I had decided not to let the bad mood take over and I fought back with Tylenol, bottled water and an hour and a half hike/jog. And however better that may have made me feel, I felt worse than ever when I went to my jeep and found this:
I literally said this: *gasp* Somebody tried to break into my jeep!!!
And then I saw this:
That gaping hole in my dash that the wires are puking out of??? That's where my stereo used to be. Also, all the contents of my glove box were strewn about the interior of my vehicle. They also ripped out my ashtray and stole my box of matches, and they stole my emergency kit.
It was at this point that I collapsed on the curb and bawled my eyes out uncontrollably. Head in hands. Sobbed. Uncontrollably. Poor Steve didn't know what to do with me. What a terrible, terrible feeling.
Also missing were the following CD's:
My beloved White Stripes collection
And about 0.78 cents worth of change. ICBC says they won't cover the CD's, the 0.78 cents, the box of matches or the emergency kit.
A half a block up the street, I noticed this on the side of the road:
Ok so I got back two of my White Strips CD's, Pride Tiger, Kid Rock and James Blunt. For some reason I would have thought they'd have kept the Kid Rock??? But apparently the CDs they couldn't do without were Amy Winehouse and the Dixie Chicks. Go figure.
I also found a CD holder thingy that was not mine, which tells me that I was probably not the only person who's vehicle was broken into.
And before the lectures start - YES I know you're not supposed to leave ANYTHING in your vehicle. I know that!!! And NO, I was not parked in my parking garage, but YES I will start doing that again - even though it is a pain in the ass. (Not as big of a pain in the ass as having your vehicle broken into and robbed.) And if you still feel the need to give me some advice on what I could have done to prevent this... you might want to really think about it first. I mean really think hard. I am not feeling overly "receptive" to advice right now.
And so for the rest of the day, I will just succumb to the bad mood. I am miserable. I am about to get in my pyjamas and go lay on the couch under a blanket for the balance of the day. It's really unfortunate that my doctor's appointment for more anxiety medicine isn't until tomorrow. I am fresh out. I may have to find an "alternative" until then.
Dinner tonight will be a latte and a donut. I'm fucking done.
So I was faced with making a decision. Should I throw on the workout gear and force myself to go for a jog? Or should I just lay on the couch and take it easy. Remember, I am trying to be nicer to myself this year so I wanted to make sure I did what would make me feel better. Of course right away we think that obviously laying on the couch would make me feel better - but exercise makes me feel good too. And I couldn't decide if maybe a blast of fresh air and some physical exertion might be just what the doctor ordered.
While I was deciding on what I should do, I lay down on the couch. And time started ticking and I did not get up off the couch. And then it was too late to go out for a jog anyways - so my decision ended up being to relax on the couch.
So then I started thinking about it. Did I do the right thing? Should I have gone for a jog? Probably, I probably should have gone for a jog. I'm such an ass for not going for a jog. How lazy of me! I didn't get out for exercise yesterday either. That's two days in a row. I need to smarten up and start making some better choices.
And then I realized something. I was doing it again. Beating myself up. Being mean to me.
After more thought I realized this: being nice to myself is not about whether I decide to go for a jog or lay on the couch when I'm not feeling well. It's about making a decision to do one or the other and then BEING OK with that decision, and letting it go. I chose to relax on the couch because that is what felt best for me at the time. I made the decision to rest. End of story. End of thinking about it. End of re-thinking about it.
End of being mean to me.
Today it happened. I've been kind of waiting for this and to be quite honest I had thought and hoped that it would have happened before now, but it didn't and I'm all the more grateful it happened today.
Somebody noticed my weight loss and commented on it. Yes, others have noticed and commented on it before today - but only people who already knew that I was doing *something*, or who already knew how much I've lost (because I told them). The person who commented today is not someone who knows anything about what I've been doing.
"Have you lost weight?" are words I have been longing to hear for quite some time. (I've almost lost 30lbs!)
No, I'm not skinny but my latte is! Starbucks has changed the way I order my latte. Instead of asking for a "tall, sugar-free caramel, non-fat latte" (say it out loud, it's a mouthful) I now just have to ask for a "*tall, skinny caramel latte". The actual beverage hasn't changed but it is easier to order. This is particularly important when sending a certain husband to Starbucks to get you your latte and it's just too complicated for him to get it right. Now its easier!
Also, they've now added "Mocha" to their growing line of sugar-free syrup flavors:
~ Cinnamon Dolce
I myself tried the *tall, skinny mocha latte this morning and I'm excited to report that it was delicious!!!
* Only 90 calories / 2 WW points
I step on something foreign. Not hard enough to be a rock, but not soft enough to be a dust bunny. I know I just swept the floors last night so I can't imagine what I could have stepped on.
Tell me it's not dog poop.
Tell me it's not dog poop.
Tell me it's not dog poop.
Please don't let it be dog poop.
Ohhhh.... it's dog poop. A little doggy turd.
Socks off and into garbage. Paper towel to pick up dog turd. Gagging. Notice that the dog turd has a friend laying a few feet away. Pick up second turd. Gagging. Hiss and give laser eyes to the source of turd who is quietly watching the events unfold. Wash foot in bucket of bleach even though turd never actually touched skin. Have a mini bonfire on back porch and burn garbage bag containing paper towel, turd and socks that touched turd.
Fuck the popcorn. Fuck the jog. Fuck the dinner. Go to bed. Crawl under covers and hide in dark bedroom where there are no turds. Hopefully.
I LOST WEIGHT OVER THE HOLIDAYS!
Yay for me. And since my resolution was to start being nicer to myself, I'm starting here with a pat on my own back.
Sure it's wasn't a HUGE amount that I lost, only 1.2lbs - oh... wait... that was 2007 Tarable talking. Let me try again... I lost a whole 1.2 lbs over Christmas and New Years!. Do you know what I had to contend with??? Actually, probably the same or similar things as every one else - but not everyone else lost weight. So I feel pretty good about myself.
Yeah. Good for me.
Don't worry, I promise not to sicken you all with a bunch of posts about how 'wonderful' I am in an effort to convince my own self. Just today. So you can all tell me to go eff off now if you want. Really, I'm really not very good at this self promotion thing and I'll admit that this post even made me a little nauseous.
I am my biggest critic. I am my own biggest enemy. I beat myself up. I say mean things to myself. I hold myself to ridiculously high standards that no human could live up to. When I fail or make mistakes, I remind myself of those failures and mistakes over and over again - playing them in my mind repeatedly, torturously. I am never good enough, for me. I don't allow myself to ask for help when I need it, instead I force myself to struggle on my own. I tell myself that I don't deserve it when good things happen to me. I make myself feel guilty inside about everything.
If a parent treated a child this way, it would be child abuse. If a husband treated his wife this way, it would be spousal abuse. But because I do it to myself, it is ok.
But it's not ok anymore. I'm tired of it. I would never allow anyone else treat me like this, nor would I ever treat another human in this manner.
My resolution for 2008 is to take better care of my mental health. I'm going to be nicer to myself. I'm going to give myself a break. I'm going to treat myself better. I'm going to be less cruel to me. In fact I resolve to actually start being NICE... to me.