happy someday father's day

Last night I had dinner with my parents and my Ames to celebrate my dad, and then we came home at 9:30 and watched Big Bang Theory after I read a chapter of Writing Down the Bones recommended by friend Julie, and then I fell asleep on Ames's shoulder around 10:14 because he is the snuggliest.

And then I woke up a few hours later at 12:08AM with an awful, awful headache and running to the mailbox to check for something that I needed for work, and I found a worrisome text on my phone when I got back to my bed, and I tried to respond to the text but didn't know what to say at all, so I woke up my Ames and it was almost 12:30AM by then.

I asked him what I should say in this text, and I felt so badly because it was 12:30AM but also it was about work, and I feel like all I ever do is talk and be depressed about work lately which also makes me feel like the worst wife in the world. So I asked him what to say, and he didn't really know because it was such a kind of unbelievable situation, but he was definitely upset on my behalf. And then I started crying about it because it was 12:30AM and I had a headache and somewhere between Big Bang Theory and 12:30AM I had already had nightmares-- literal nightmares-- about work and it just didn't feel fair all of a sudden.

So it's 12:30AM, but really more like 12:40AM by this point, and I'm crying and upset, and Ames has been awakened by (more) of my work problems, and all he does is just put that long brown arm around me and let me be a mess for a while-- all he does is validate me and let me be sad and snuggle me as he falls back to sleep and so do I with a cold pack on my neck to make the headache go away.

plugging my work

I saw Funny Girl and then wrote a review about it.

If you didn't get my first tweet, you can go ahead and click this link instead.

Oh, and ps-- even though I didn't so much as fall of the proverbial weight loss wagon this week as I did completely (and willingly) belly flop off the wagon, I managed to lose 2 oz this week. Goal.

hitting 20K

WE DID IT, EVERYBODY!
20,000 ticker clicks

Thanks to your dedicated reading, pribbles & prabbles (formally Emily's Alpine Path) has received 20,000+ hits, and I almost didn't even notice because I was so busy focusing on the dozens of children running rampant (not really-- they're supervised) around my department.

How will we celebrate?

I should probably do some kind of sentimental recap about the progress and journey of this blog. 20,000 ticks isn't so much a very large feat when you consider it has existed for the better part of three years... Is that embarrassing to admit? I'm not a "cool blog" like the others I read with 20,000 hits in like a week. It's okay. I feel we're close, my readers and I. I like being close to you (but not in a gross creepy way).

In the meantime, my celebration plans for tonight involve attending a local performance of Funny Girl, which I will review and post tomorrow. Those plans will also potentially include a pizza from Costco because I have 14 WW points left today. Also performances at the SCERA Shell must always include Costco pizza, or at very least a churro. What the what.

I'll also probably throw down a little Miley, because that song is actually super catchy. And even though this is only a party in the USA in the largest sense (in that, this blog and I are in the USA), Miley Cyrus definitely was in town last Independence Day to do a concert down the street for Stadium of Fire and she probably sang that song (or would have, if it were released at the time, which I'm not positive it was), which warrants me movin my hips like yeah.

PS. Saw Prince of Persia last night. I enjoyed all the white people with convincing suntans and wigs, especially Alfred Molina, who might be my favorite actor right now/ever (who is, to his credit, at least Spanish/Italian). My only real issue with the film is that I really wanted Jake Gyllenhaal to bust out some Aladdin tunes as he was jumping around all those rooftops. He really was just one jump ahead of the lawmen all those times, guys.

phasing

I hit a milestone today. I've made it out of the 160's.

WOO WOO WOO!

Oddly enough, it comes after a week of emotional eating and little exercising. The summer camp at work started yesterday, and I've discovered that I am not one of those girls who loses weight when I'm under stress. Stress is interpreted by my body as impending apocalypse and therefore flips into starvation mode, clinging with vigor to ever calorie for who knows how long it will be till I will eat again!

That said, now that I'm no longer under (as much) stress, there has been a sudden release in metabolism, and in spite of the tacos and homestyle chicken go-wraps and overwhelming urge to graze between the hours of 6PM-9PM, it kind of just melted off since Friday. Weird. I'm not complaining. Let it melt. I mean, it's hot enough outside (but for real).

In other news, the puppy I (desperately) wanted, which Ames and I were going to somehow figure out how to adopt, which we were going to visit this very afternoon, was adopted TODAY. I feel the worst for myself, but I'm very happy he's got a family now. I hope they are good to him.

eat it, julie/julia

Okay, so I admit it. I've always been one of those people who can cook, I just don't always choose to. During college, I very rarely ventured beyond basic pasta dishes and occasionally a just-toss-in casserole for consumption throughout the week. It's hard to cook for one, and since my schedule was usually such that I didn't care so much to cook for roommates or join a dinner group. Those exist. I have no interest. So I mean-- lots of macaroni and cheese, Hamburger Helper, and bagel chips and/or Cheez-Its dipped in flavored cream cheese.

To my credit, I can make that macaroni and cheese without measuring any of the ingredients, so yeah-- I'm a pretty good cook.

I've gotten a little better about trying to cook since Mr. Ames and I got married. I've made some meatloaf and lasagna and various casseroles that are slightly more challenging and include more ingredients. Let's be real though, we're still living a "student" lifestyle, so mac&cheese is pretty much a staple.

Note: after months of deliberation, we have determined Kroger brand m&c to be superior, as far as low-priced m&c goes. Specifically Three Cheese Shells kind. Typically $0.49-$0.53.

But now that I've become super awesome health conscious (which I promise I am, in spite of the meals I've eaten this weekend, which would make it seem like I've fallen off the proverbial wagon, and perhaps I did, though I weighed myself this morning and was the lowest I've been all month so go figure), I'm learning to actually want to cook things.

I know, right?

Turns out if you cook things-- like, get a whole bunch of ingredients together and combine them according to a recipe-- it's way good for you and low in calories/WW points, if that's your bag.

Now I know I've been told for years and years that buying food from the grocery store is cheaper than going out to eat, and I will dispute that until you tell me to stop vocally disputing that. Exhibit A: I just bought a head of cauliflower, some cream cheese, and chives to the tune of $7.53, which is approximately $0.56 less than what we spent at Taco Bell for both of us to eat lunch this afternoon for Memorial Day Tacos.

That said, it's starting to feel much more rewarding to cook up something interesting and tasty and limited-caloric-intake friendly. And blah blah blah, yeah I know about budgeting and coupons etc. etc. etc.

My point, is that I got home from reading in the park and was overcome by the desire for cauliflower cheese soup. Found a recipe on ww.com for such a thing at the tune of 1 ww point per serving and hopped right back on my bike to get a few missing ingredients at Smith's.

Another Note: tooling around town on my bike is the best and I feel so darling, economical and heart-healthy about it.

It's currently simmering on the stove, not yet pureed and who knows if it'll live anything up to the Zupas kind I love so much (and is probably dreadfully fattening (which is why it's so tasty)). Also, I'm going to use the hand-held mixer we got as a wedding gift last August for the third time ever (don't judge me).

Aren't I domestic?

A delightful cooking tip: Will & Grace is best for listening to while you cook. Realistically, it's possible it is the greatest sitcom ever written no contest this is my blog you can't argue with me.


UPDATE: two hours, six dishes, two chopping boards, four spoons, a hand mixer, a vegetable chopper, a blender, 6 oz of cream cheese, 1 cup of mozzarella, 1 tbsp of garlic, a drop of not-butter, and a few shakes of parsley later, we've got soup.

How does it taste? Garlicky. Bland.

First attempt at soup: not really a success. Also, no longer 1 point. At least I'm getting like all my vegetable servings for the day.

Eh. Good try, self.


SECOND UPDATE: Ames just came home and without letting him taste it, I said I just wanted to get rid of it. Let's be real, I'm not going to take another sip of that stuff. And just how the half-pureed mixture that was chunky and such a lovely color might have (did) remind one (me) of some gross bodily excrement, so did it sound as Ames dumped it down the toilet.

bike tales

You know when you're trucking down the street and you see a random shoe on the side of the road? Like, just one shoe. On the side of the road. Busy road, not busy road-- just a shoe. On the road. And you're like, How the devil did that get there?
Are people just walking down the side of the road and a shoe comes off and they don't even notice?

Did some kids get in an argument in the backseat of a van and in a fit of fury one kid tears a shoe off the other kid and chucks it out the window and then their mom gets mad but the shoe is long gone? Or maybe she didn't even notice because this is only one of three arguments happening in her van with six kids and the silly flip-flop/cartoon/turtle/Jesus fish/Mac apple decals on the rear window?

Did someone's foot just get too hot or itchy?

WTF?

Well, I had an experience the other day that will explain why one little and adorable black flat with a little bow ended up on the side of the road. Just one little and adorable black flat with a bow. On the side of the road.
There I was, biking down the street as I headed home from work. I've become pretty good at biking that 2.8 miles each way, deftly avoiding gravel and illicit stones, an earphone in my right ear and my iPod tucked away safely (which makes me unable to hear people on my right who say things to me, particularly 8th graders, which is a different story entirely), and my wicker basket filled with purse, cardigan, and tupperware. I even made it to work this morning in 15 minutes.

But there I was, biking down the street. I passed the Wendy's and Target and Taco Bell and Burger King, and exercised tremendous self-control by avoiding the urge to stop at all of them (and the Scary Clown Station for Haribo Raspberries omg best evarrrrrrrrrr). I got to the intersection at Center and State, and I was waiting for the White Man Go, listening to my tunes and checking my text messages. [Note: I do not text and bike at the same time. That would be the most stupid.]

Now I need you to know exactly how embarrassing the next few minutes were for me. It is taking a great deal of proverbial pill swallowing for me to tell you this, because when it happened I was, for whatever reason, near the point of tears about it. TEARS, guys.

So the crosswalk gave me the White Man Go sign, and I push off to go across the street when suddenly my left shoe came off. Just off. Right there in the road, with a thousand rush-hour drivers sitting there watching me. With all the right lane turners waiting for me, I couldn't just stop and turn around right there-- couldn't get off the bike, throw down the kickstand and run after my shoe. This intersection is not kidding around in size, you guys. I had to go all the way across without a choice. I was filled with admittedly needless humiliation because even though, sure, it's embarrassing, it also happens to the best of us (well, the best of us who wear little and adorable black flats with little bows). I got across the street, actually pulled into the parking lot of the Sprint store there on the corner, and turned around to access the situation.

On the one hand, I felt silly enough that I thought, Goodbye shoe! I miss you already but no way in hell am I going to cross this intersection three times in front of all these people!

On the other hand, I thought, Hello, these are my favorite little/adorable/black/bowed flats that are a work-clothes staple. Go get your freakin shoe, self. Of course, all the while filled with mild panic and rising embarrassment-- me, in a Sprint parking lot, with a wicker basketed bike, and one shoe.

I stared at that shoe across the road, trying to decide what to do, when, in veritable slow motion, a car turned into that right lane, ran over my shoe, and swept it away down the street.

That's the part when I almost started crying. I mean, even though those shoes were only about $20 from Forever Young and I think they even still have them there so I could replace them, that's $20 I didn't want to spend on a pair of shoes I already have/had. I don't mind spending $20 on shoes I don't have. But if I've got to spend $20 to replace old shoe, and still want a pair of new shoes, that's $40 on shoes instead of $20 on shoes-- not to mention the $20 I already spent on the pair of now pairless shoes. Also, I was now having to face biking the rest of the way home, part of it on very busy State Street, with one right shoe-- or no shoes at all-- thereby looking like a hillbilly.

Sniffing and worried about scraping my toes, I removed my remaining shoe and hid it under my cardigan in the basket (because duh, people can see into the basket from the road (no they can't)), and played the hillbilly card, hoping that anyone who saw me would just think, How cute is that little barefoot biker, letting those toes wiggle on such a nice warm day! I know that's not what they were thinking, but let me just feel better about myself, okay?

The next few minutes are a blur in my memory as I busted my chops to get home quick, or at least into my neighborhood where barefoot bike riding wouldn't be quite so questionable or dangerous. I got to my house, stuck the mail in my bike basket, and said some choice words when I carried my bike down the dirty stairs to our apartment and then all the mail fell out and I couldn't put the bike down or else I'd slip so I had to walk all over the mail and then recollect it. That's when I texted Ames about how annoyed and bummed I was and let go of my stress with a 40-minute Pilates session because I'm a Pilates queen and I earned like 13 activity points in one day.

And that is how at least one of those random shoes on the side of the road made it there.



I still haven't figured out what to do about the question of replacing them. They really are such cute shoes. Shoe. It is a cute shoe.