trapped in a closet...er, dressing room

may is national shopping month. no? it's not? well regardless, i'm observing it. this past weekend, i was shopping in georgetown and at one of my favorite spots...jcrew. yes, yes, yes, i realize that the last few posts have been about this place so are you really that surprised? exactly. so anyway, i'm at the store in search of another bikini to take on my cabo trip (this weekend! actually in 2 days! i'm going to cabo!!!hooray!)....

...let me digress for one brief moment. why is that that months leading up to this trip, i'm parked at the gym, working out, sweating away. and then, in the weeks leading to the trip, my body decides that it does not want to work out AND instead it wants to consume endless amounts of food. seriously, i've never been so hungry in my life. it's borderline disgusting. basically, i'm going to look amazing in my bikinis. amazingly full.

...ok so back to jcrew. we'd made our rounds at some other stores around town and i decided to drop in to see if i could pick up one last bikini. i grab two and a sales associate asks if i want to start a fitting room. usually, my answer is no because i like to walk around with my items and mix and match with other stuff. so i'm editing along the way and don't want to give it up. but occasionally, like that day, i agree. a little while later, i make my way to the dressing rooms. only the line is insane. why do they only have 4 dressing rooms for women? does that seem very well thought out? so i see the sales associate and i say, "i think you started a room for me." and he responds, "yes,  just wait in line." ok, so what exactly is the point of starting a fitting room that isn't actually started for you? i debated waiting and finally decided against it and let him know...only to change my mind 30 seconds later and get back in line. the sales associate sees me and kindly says, "i'll pull you over to the other dressing rooms." OTHER DRESSING ROOMS? why are these people waiting in line then? oh well, see you suckers!

we head to the men's dressing rooms which are completely empty because men hate trying clothes on. while i'm in there, i hear someone knock and i say that i'm in the room and i hear a click and they move on. with one new bikini successfully found, i get dressed and ready to head to the register....and the next few minutes went something like this:

i pull on the handle and the door won't budge. i try locking and unlocking it again and pull on the handle. nothing. i think, "ok, don't panic. you're stuck in jcrew. this would normally sound awesome. just grab the cell and call your cousin. she's right outside." dial dial dial...ring...CALL FAIL. no signal. seriously? next i tried pounding on the door, which sounds pretty ridiculous, right? i mean it's not like i'm going to be screaming "LET ME OUT" yeah, see, very dumb. but no one responds. i say a little prayer and pull on the handle again. that doesn't work at all. that was a stupid idea. why would i think that would work. i sit on the bench and then i hear footsteps. someone is nearby! i yell, "I'M LOCKED IN" (yes, i actually yelled that. there i am inside the dressing room, yelling for someone to save me). the guy unlocks the door and i go running out. and, i'm totally embarrassed. and irritated (which moron locked me inside the dressing room?)

i head to the register and pay for my bikini. traumatized. scared. but ready for cabo.

maybe next time, i should just wait in line.

i've made it in life!

so this past friday, i had the day off and decided i was due for a shopping spree. yes, a shopping spree...at my same 3 stores: jcrew, anthropologie, and ann taylor. the entire time, i justified my purchases by thinking, i work really hard and if i can't have my dream job, i should at least have a dream wardrobe. granted, a dream
wardrobe would include louboutins and designer clothes but i have to start somewhere, right? and in any case, i love jcrew so who am i kidding? i'd always shop there.

while i was at jcrew, i decided that i'd sign up for a card. (it's hard to believe i don't already have one, right? well actually i did but apparently if you don't use it for 8 years, they close the account.) so when you sign up, you get a gift card for every $500 you spend. i think the gift card is only like $25 but listen, if jcrew wants to give me money, i'll take it. however, when i explained why i signed up for a card to my husband, i decided to explain the gift card as a cost savings. listen, it's math.

anyway, while i was checking out, i started chatting it up with the sales associate and somehow the conversation got into a personal shopper. next thing i know, i have a personal shopper! i know. omg, i have a personal shopper. i've finally made it in life! in that moment, i decided, if i don't have a dream job, then i should at least make the most of being able to afford shopping and having a personal shopper!(note: the personal shopper is totally free so really, i haven't made it that far in life.)

(total sidenote: i was really disappointed that i didn't win the $226m megamillions lottery last week. i really thought that i had a shot. i mean who needs that $226m more than me? oh well. sigh.)

anyway, i met my personal shopper (anthony...yeah, it's a boy) the first thing he said to me was, "oh, i recognize you." hmmm, maybe i'm there too often? i can't wait for him to email me and put clothes aside for me.  i also can't wait to be totally broke (except of course, for all that "cost savings" from my jcrew gift cards).

i will keep you posted on the treasures he finds for me (hopefully they'll be on sale!)...

wanted: dream job

do you ever have the feeling that the universe is trying to tell you something? well, the past two weeks, i've been inundated with stories of dream jobs. it all started when i was working from home. there i was sitting on my couch in my pjs, vigoursly typing away. in the background, i had the tv on mute (yes, i need the tv on mute in order to write, it's bizarre, i know). well the tv was set to a documentary on autism and this mother's quest to communicate with her child. i decided to take a break and watch part of the documentary. the story featured a woman based out of austin, who had created a therapy method that enabled communication with these kids who never spoke. to anyone. ever.  it was amazing, here is this woman, not trained at all in psychology who had created an entire method! so that got me thinking about what i'm passionate about.
so on the one hand, i love academia. i dream of being a professor. i love learning. and, after watching this documentary, i thought, i need to work in my field (psychology). i need to study autism and give back. basically, i need to find a cure for autism.

the following week, while at the gym, i picked up a magazine and one of the feature articles was about women who pursued their dream job. sigh. why didn't i do that? oh yeah, because i didn't want to be poor..not even if it's just for a year. so that article got me thinking. what would my dream job be.....

then last week, oprah was all about dream jobs! (ok, universe. i get it. dream job, dream job, dream job.) so on that episode was the executive creative director at jcrew. there she was in her cute striped boatneck top and glam sequin pants, and overpriced jcrew heels. sigh. maybe that's my dream job. because, while on the one hand, my brain is convinced i belong in academia, the other half of my brain is deeply rooted in...well, pretty things. i love finding them, buying them, wearing them. love love love. so maybe that's my dream job! next thing i knew, i was looking up personal shopper positions at bloomingdales and anthropologie (anyone want to be a client?!). and immediately following that, i went to jcrew to buy that striped bateau top and some slouch pants (even i am not glam enough for sequin pants). basically, i'm convinced that if i can't be the executive creative director of jcrew, i should definitely dress like her. and, if by some beautiful coincidence you're reading this, jenna, please hire me...and pay me a six-figure salary. pretty please?

truthfully, i don't know what my dream job is...because yes, i do want to do something meaningful and relevant but i also want to do something fun and playful. i want to wake up in the mornings and be excited to go to the office. i want the hours to fly by because i love what i do. oh and i'd like to get paid well for it. really well. as in bags and bags of money. that's perfectly reasonable right? so if you happen to come across such a position, let me know. i've always wanted to be the executive director of all things awesome.

deathplow

so a few weeks ago, i went on my first family vacation. well, first in-law vacation. a ski trip to park city, utah.

let me preface this story by saying that i did not begin skiing until i dated my husband. he grew up skiing and next to him, i look like a newborn deer learning to stand for the first time. i've taken lessons and been skiing a few times over the past 4 years, so i'm what you would call an intermediate beginner...clearly i've come a long way from my beginner beginner days (when i used to pitch my poles and pinwheel down the mountain..ok, so i still do that on occasion). i grew up "protected" from sports. my mom was worried i'd get hurt, or worse, scar my legs! instead, i grew up to wear high heels that resulted in foot surgery, which left me with a hideous scar on my toe (just goes to show you that one cannot escape destiny). before i left for the trip, my mother gave me a little advice, "honey, don't try to show off out there." right, mom, show off. that was my initial plan. but you're right, i'll decide against it.

as i mentioned, my husband grew up skiing and so did his entire family. upon arriving in salt lake, our first stop was to the ski shop...to buy me a helmet. at first, i thought, i'm not really flying down advanced runs so why is a helmet necessary? it would be like me wearing a helmet to walk around downtown. but then my sister-in-law lovingly pointed out how natasha richardson took a light tumble on a green run and DIED. soooooooooo, i bought a helmet. a children's helmet (yes, my head is that small). i was torn between the dora the explorer and ninja designs but in the end opted for my brown helmet with a ninja on the back.

ok, to the mountain.

day 1 - we start the day with the bunny hill so my body can remember what it has to do. i like to call that my french fry/pizza run (and this is why i'm only an intermediate beginner. i still use the french fry/pizza technique to describe skiing).  i warmed up and got to the greens. by the end of the day, i did one or two blues and called it a success.

day 2 - i like to refer to this day as "the day i escaped death". feeling confident, i was ready to go. i skied some greens and blues before lunch, met up with the fam for a bite to eat, and then it was time to hit the mountain. my in-laws suggested we all take a blue together. at this point, i apparently thought i was olympic material so i was like, "great idea, let's do it!" we take the lift up and i ski off the lift and then the run curves. when i go around the curve, i see that my husband and mother-in-law are stopped....AT THE EDGE OF A CLIFF. this is a blue run?! after a few minutes, the rest of the fam continued the run but there i was. staring down the mountain, certain that this run would either kill me or break every bone in my body. my husband tried to encourage me and said, "don't get scared. you can always just pizza down." ok, pizza down. ok yes, i can do that. i moved my skis ready to pizza slice them across the mountain. but in the process, they french-fried and i went flying until i managed to go into ragdoll mode and pinwheel down a few feet. that's when i went into full panic attack mode and was hyperventilating (for the record, a panic attack on a mountain is not ideal. also, i really question my fight/flight response if in the face of death, i'm going to just hyperventilate. good to know in case of a major emergency). anyway, my husband convinced me to take my skis off and try to walk down the steep portion. so i did. and that is the last time i listen to my husband. what i learned is that when you're on a steep run and you take off your skis, you go deathplowing (yes, DEATHPLOWING) down a mountain and your boots only help you gain more speed. so as i'm plowing down, i'm basically scraping along, trying to dig my fingers into the snow to slow me down or better yet stop me. i finally stopped at which point i put my skis back on and pizza'ed my way to the flatter part of the run. it took me about an 45 minutes to finish that run. i ended the day with 4 big bruises along the inside of my leg and a lifetime worth of trauma.

day 3 - it is really a surprise that i even put skis on. it was almost like i was tempting fate. but day 3 was good. i skied blues all day with a couple falls sprinkled a long the way just so god could remind me why my mother "protected" me from sports all those years. near the end of the day, i skied a blue run with my husband, sister-in-law, brother-in-law, and his gf. there i am, skiing down a blue! i can't believe it. i've done great that day! as i'm reciting "left foot, right foot" over and over again (that's my alternative to french fry/pizza), i suddenly see a snowboard to my right, a few inches from my face. luckily, it misses my face but clips my wrist. in the midst of all this, i somehow managed to just calmly turn left and come to a stop. meanwhile, everyone i was skiing with just saw an out of control snowboarder pummel into me, barely missing my head (i'm still not sure how it is humanly possible to get your snowboard 5 feet off the ground). my husband comes over to see if i'm ok and i just tell him that my wrist hurts and it'll prob just bruise (oh you know, just another bruise to add to the collection i'm putting together on this trip). my brother-in-law decides to chase the snowboarder down the mountain. did i mention the snowboarder was 12?

day 4 - who will try to kill me today? as it turns out, no one. i skied greens and blues. i did a few mini moguls when i decided to follow my husband down a path between a few trees. (note to self, do not ski on paths between trees) but all in all, it was uneventful. i didn't fall. there was no hyperventilating. and no snowboarder tried to crush my skull. success!

i made it home, a little tattered and a lot bruised but able to say i skied my first blues! oh and, i'd like to thank my sister-in-law for encouraging me to buy a helmet.  best advice ever...aside obviously from my mother's wise words to not show off.

march (cooking) madness! UPDATE

just wanted to fill you all in on the outcome of the spinach and mushroom lasagna. first, it was delicious. would i make some changes? perhaps. ok, yes. so here's what i would recommend doing differently:

1. add a little more sauce. you don't necessarily need it on every layer but i would have put more on the top layer.
2. i'd add some more spice. it was yummy but i like my food with a little kick so i'd have put some cayenne in there to turn up the heat.
3. i would, as i mentioned in the post, increase the mushroom mixture and perhaps just mix it in with the ricotta/spinach mixture and layer it in all at once. i think that might make the mixture more cohesive.

ok, those are my lessons learned. i will definitely be making this again. i also think this would be a yummy mix for stuffed shells or homemade ravioli!

march (cooking) madness!

so, the last few weeks i've been trying to live up to my new years resolution to try new recipes and cook more....that's right, no more $10 whole foods salads! with the exception of ordering sushi once a week, i am doing pretty well. god, i love sushi. but now since march madness has offically begun in my household, i decided it's time to get serious and really start cooking (don't get me wrong, i LOVE watching basketball on full blast on our tv and on our computers...oh yeah, and by love, i mean tolerate).

i recently found the show and book 'cook yourself thin' which takes traditional recipes and cuts down the calories by substituting different ingredients (e.g., cakes with no butter or oil that taste amazing and are 200 calories for a a lovely, not paper thin slice). i've made the apple spice cake and shockingly, it was good. too good. i practically ate the whole thing on my own. oops...how's that for portion size? but i realize that most of the world likes butter and oil. so you may not be quite ready for that recipe.

but who doesn't love lasagna?! here's my stab at the spinach and mushroom lasagna. i took some liberties with the recipe so we'll see how that works out (we're eating it tonight! surprise, honey, i made dinner!)

 the stars of the show - mushrooms! (i used cremini and baby bella) and spinach!

my addition: sun-dried tomatoes (not in oil version...hence looking like gross worms)

before and after...i know, based on the before, i wasn't too optimistic either but the after looks pretty good, right?

the aftermath...maybe my husband will do the dishes tonight

so here's the recipe. like i said, i didn't follow it to a tee. i added onions and sun-dried tomatoes to the mushroom mixture. oh and yes, i didn't read the directions and didn't alternate the layers with tomato sauce. yeah, we'll see how it tastes but i can tell you my house smells amazing from just the prep work (which took about 30 min.)

enjoy!

spinach and mushroom veggie lasagna

makes 12 servings (we'll see about that)

337 calories per serving

2 tablespoons of olive oil (i used 1)

1.5 pounds of cremini and/or shitake mushrooms (i recommend more!)

1 teaspoon dried thyme

pinch of kosher salt

1 15oz part skim ricotta (i eyeballed this)

3/4 cup skim milk

2 eggs (i used 1)

3 cups of shredded mozzarella (i used about 1.5 - 1 in the mixture and 0.5 on top)

3/4 cup grated parmesean

1 10 oz frozen spinach  (i used fresh spinach, about 3/4 of a package)

1/3 cup of fresh basil

1 teaspoon of dried oregano

pinch of ground pepper

5 cups of tomato sauce (i used about 1 - 0.5 for the bottom of the pan and 0.5 on the top layer...oops)

12 sheets of no-cook lasagna noodles

non-stick cooking spray

directions

1. preheat oven to 375
2. heat olive oil in skillet over medium heat. add mushrooms and thyme and season with salt (and pepper). cook until softened (about 10-12 minutes)
3. in medium bowl, combine ricotta, milk, eggs and stir. add 1 c of the mozzarella, the parm, spinach, basil, and oregano. season with salt/pepper.
4. spread 1 cup of tomato sauce on bottom of 9x13x2 pan. layer 4 sheets of lasagna, slightly overlapping. spread half the ricotta mixture on the noodles and cover with half the mushroom. mix. top with 1.5 c of tomato sauce. repeat with 4 layers. cover top layer with tomato sauce and remaining mozzarella.
5. lightly coat sheet of foil with cooking spray and cover uncooked lasagna. 
6. bake at 375 for 45 min
7. remove foil and increase oven temp to 475. cook until cheese browns (approx 12 min).
8. 8. let stand for 15 min before cutting. serve warm and garnish with basil.

hmmm...so after typing that, i realize that i probably should have actually read the directions myself prior to starting this. my layers don't have tomato sauce...just the top and bottom layers. i used less cheese, only 1 egg, and i didn't see the stray noodle in the box so my top layer only has 3 noodles. ahh, the joys of cooking...ok, enjoy!!

and this little piggy is feeling blue...

last week was painful. physically. no i wasn't overworked or overstressed. no no, none of that. you see, my little pinky toe was in physical pain. in fact, it was blue...and purple....and swollen. it was gross. to understand how i got here, we have to travel back to earlier this month when i went to ann taylor.

while at ann taylor, foolishly convincing myself that i needed more things to jam into my already stuffed sausage of a closet, i encountered these beauties:

va va va voom.

little did i know that these shoes were cursed (yes, CURSED!)...BUT gosh, they really are pretty, right?

at first, it was all love and rainbows with these shoes. they made my legs look miles long, they went with everything, and they're patent leather. i mean, who doesn't love a good patent heel? one day, while at work, i was returning from a meeting. it was late afternoon and most sane people had already left for the day. so i get to my floor and as i round the corner for my office, my heel catches in the forsaken carpet and splat! i fall literally on my face and my stack of papers goes flying. i mean, FLYING...EVERYWHERE. quickly, i scan the hall. no one saw (other than the security guard i'm sure. i wonder where they hide their cameras anyway). so next, i assess the damage -- one of my shoes is about 5 feet behind me (it flew off like it was trying to escape the crime scene), my tights are still intact (thank goodness for these small blessings) but my palms are red and slightly scraped and it feels like i broke both my kneecaps (but i can walk so clearly, nothing is broken). i gather my papers and my rogue shoe and scurry to my office. i get home, remove the tights only to find two enormous red-but-on-the-verge-of-purple bruises on each knee (how symmetrical). overnight, they transform to purple/black bruises. i temporarily retired the shoes.

but like any addict, i couldn't stay away long. a few weeks later, i was back in them...and walking very slowly. so i wore them a few days in a row..despite the throbbing that was now coming from my poor pinky toe. the little guy was screaming for mercy and, being cold and heartless, i ignored its pleas...until one day when i couldn't ignore it anymore. i took a look and found that my cute, scarred (i had surgery on the toe 7 years ago due to a pointy toe shoe incident) little baby toe had about tripled in size and was purple. immediately, i iced it, threw my patent shoes to the darkest corner of my closet, and prayed to the sweet lord above that the toe wouldn't fall off.

 i love you...i hate you...

i made an appt with the doctor and wore uggs everyday until then as penance (yes, even to work!)

ok quick sidenote since i mentioned it. now i'm pretty together when i go to work. and for this one week i wore black uggs with my outfits bc these pillow like, bear claw boots were the only ones that could comfortably accomodate the throbbing, swollen, angry monster that my pinky toe had become. one morning, as i was headed towards my office, i ran into my coworker who clearly gave me a complete once over followed by a look of disgust. yes, horror of horrors, i wore uggs to the office. BUT BUT BUT, i think when you yourself are wearing pants that are too short for you and white socks with black shoes (and you're a woman!!!), you shouldn't cast any stones (you know, given that you live in your glass and, clearly, fashionably challenged, house). ok, but i digress.

the doctor, who oddly reminds me of kirsten johnston (from 3rd rock from the sun fame), doesn't scold me for wearing high heels or try to convince me to wear orthopedics and care for my body. no no, instead she sings about how i have a big fat toe (i love her already) and we decide to shoot it up with some cortisone (YESSSSS! STEROIDS! LOVE IT!)  we decide that we're going to skip the anesthesia and just try to inject the toe with cortisone (i omitted some other gross details because,well, you would stop reading). so the nurse comes in and says, i think you might need to hold my hand. i'm like oh haha, that's sweet...meanwhile i'm clasping her hand and squeezing it for dear life.....all before the needle is even in my toe. ok, so needle in toe...skip ahead to cortisone injection and as the doctor switches the vial that is attached to the needle, the needle itself digs further into the toe at which point i SCREAM holy s! did i mention that this office is internal med + PEDIATRICS. i just imagine a little kid hearing me scream from the other side of the door. traumatic much? you're welcome for life, kiddo.

pre-coritisone shot

post-cortisone stabbing...i mean injection.

we wrap the toe and i'm back at the work. the past week, i've been elevating the toe, applying a heating pad, and wrapping it in its little cottonball/medical tape outfit. it's sad. my toe is still bruised but not longer swollen. no it just looks (and feels) defeated. and all for a pair of killer patent leather heels. hmmmmm, that reminds me...i wonder when i can wear them again???

...i love you...i miss you. this cautionary tale was lost on me.