So that happened...

A month ago I turned 30.
It's a weird thing.
It feels awkward to say or even own. 
My body feels 30 I suppose.
I think the warranty ran out.

We spent the day on a beach in Mexico eating insane amounts of chips/guacamole/salsa and drinking fruity drinks.

It was lovely. I can think of no better way to turn 30. There was no e-mail/phone calls/facebook, just a day swimming with my best friend.

Here's to hoping the next 30 are just as interesting.

Important issues

The other night Husband and I were busy outlining our fall viewing schedule. It's important work you see...

It was a little touch and go for a while but we finally came to an agreement and this is the finished product. You see, for us our television habits are sacred. We have our shows and they are as important to us as date night is to other couples. (don't get me wrong, we have a standing Wednesday night date but that's beside the point...) Husband and I have a very strong bond when it comes to our shared love of pop culture. We can spend hours debating various aspects of our favorite shows and have been known to collapse into a heap of laughter over an obscure reference. For better or worse, pop culture is the thing that bind us... and I'm ok with that.
So let me break it down...

Oldies but Goodies:
1. How I Met You Mother
Probably one of our all time favorite shows. The depth of this show has no equal. Any show that has the ability to make me laugh and cry within the same 30 minute episode has no peers, in my opinion.
2. The Big Bang Theory
This show was a dark horse for me. Initially I hated it and thought it was cliche and just trying too hard, Husband insisted it was funny. Then they realized the Sheldon factor and it has since become my favorite show to quote incessantly. It makes me live for Thursday nights...
3. Community
Hands down the most underrated show on TV. Why more people don't love this show baffles me.
4. Criminal Minds
My nerd love for Spencer Reid is something Husband will never understand. However, he loves the show in that uncomplicated way guys love any cop drama.
5. The Simpsons/Family Guy/American Dad
I have loved The Simpsons for a staggering number of years now. Plus you physically cannot be in a bad mood while watching Family Guy/American Dad, they are far too inappropriate... 

Winners from last year:
1. Grimm
 This show is weird. I'll give you that, but it's also fascinating...
2. Once Upon a Time
 Don't ask, I have no answers. I just know that it's addictive...
3. 2 Broke Girls
This is Husband's show. I can't stand the way Max smacks her gum but it has its moments though.
4. Don't Trust the B in Apt 23
A find from Hulu. It is raunchy and inappropriate and completely hilarious.

On the bubble:
-Bones
I've always had a love/hate relationship with this show... it just seems like the writer's have given up now that the 2 main characters have hooked up and their chemistry is just gone...

Summer Loves:
1. Supernatural
I love this show so much... We spent the vast majority of summer obsessing over this smart and clever CW show. Thank you Netflix.
2. Castle
Oh Nathan Fillion, I adore you. I love everything about this show, although I'm not sure I've been this frustrated waiting for 2 characters to hook up since Chuck.

Newbies: (Most of these are Husband's picks...)

1. Revolution
2. Ben & Kate
3. Go On
4. New Normal
5. Animal Practice
This is the only show I really wanted to add to our viewing. I work in a vet hospital and I adore Justin Kirk so it was destined for me to watch this...
6. Arrow
7. Guys with Kids
8. Chicago Fire
9. Elementary

It should be an interesting fall and I couldn't be more excited.

My fertility struggle...

I sent my "secret" to a friend a few months ago.

I was feeling frustrated and sad.

I wasn't feeling honest at the time.

He wrote back with kind words but if he did see past the surface he never said.

I mean why would he see what I really meant?

It's not like I've been honest about what has been happening in my life with too many people.

Only a very small group knew the truth.

So what's the truth?

The truth is I'm 30, Husband and I have been married for 8 years and we've been trying to have kids for over 3 years now.

There I said it.

Now all I want to do is delete this draft and pretend it never happened.

To return to my snarky persona and act like having kids is the worst thing imaginable.

I can't though.

It's killing me inside.

I'm not writing this blog because I want people to feel sorry for me. Or even that I'm looking for advice. I'm writing this because not being honest and open is killing me. People don't understand why I bristle so much when the subject of kids come up. The truth is, the topic is so painful and raw that sarcasm is the only way for me to hold it together. I get angry and defensive when asked because it hurts so bad.

Let me back up.

Before I met Husband I never wanted kids. I still didn't want kids even after we met. Even getting married didn't really change that. To be fair I was young. I had just turned 20 when we met, we married shortly because I turned 22 and in all fairness I wasn't ready to be a mother. I still really enjoyed my freedom and being irresponsible.

It wasn't until one of my dearest friends started trying to get pregnant that I felt that faint twinge of longing, I was 26. A few months because I turned 27 we threw caution to the wind and stop using birth control. We were convinced it would be easy. I mean after all, we were young. Every month I would start to panic... terrified of both being and not being pregnant. When my period would show I would temporarily be relieved before the sorrow would settle in.

Then the months started to drag on and the further we got from using birth control the sicker I got. I would be sidelined with cramps that left me draped around a toilet for a day. Convinced something was wrong I went to the doctor. I confessed that I was off birth control and concerned that the pain was a symptom of infertility. The doctor informed me that until I was willing to be serious about getting pregnant (i.e. using ovulation kits) then I should just go back on birth control since it kept the cramps under control. If not I would just have to take an insane amount of ibuprofen to try and keep myself functional. Despite my asking for tests and wanting more knowledge on the subject I was brushed aside. If only I had been more educated at the time.

So we continued down the path for another year or so. Eventually I started charting my fertility via temperature. Frustrated I went to another doctor with the express problem of infertility. I was tired of hiding and being timid about my desire for kids. Sitting in the room and being drilled about every detail of my sex life was uncomfortable. The woman made me feel awful when she insisted that we just weren't being intimate enough. Still this time my dear friend had armed me with some knowledge so I pressed for labwork to be done. I figured that should be easy, I mean if I was low on a certain hormone that should be easy enough to fix. The labwork came back normal despite my very abnormal temperature charting. The nurse called days later to say they would just script me out Clomid. I was not ok with that and asked how that would help me if my tubes happened to be blocked. (knowledge is power) I finally forced their hand into ordering me a dye test. The test came and went and surprisingly one of my tubes was blocked. A week or more after the test her nurse called and said they would just refer me to the fertility clinic.

During the course of me struggling to get answers Husband had some testing done as well. He was perfectly normal.

Sitting in the office for the fertility clinic last year I felt overwhelmed and anxious. After a brief chat with the doctor she said it sounded like I suffered from endometriosis and we should do a vaginal ultrasound. By the end of the visit we had scheduled surgery to fix the blocked tube and laser off any endometriosis. The surgery came and went, they fixed the tube that was blocked and lasered off the offending tissue. On our follow up visit she suggested A.I. if I still wasn't pregnant in a few months. Husband was leaving for Iraq the following month for a short deployment and that's when they suggested I do a few months of chemically induced menopause to prevent the endometriosis from returning while he was gone. That's when I hit my wall. I wasn't comfortable with the consequences of menopause nor would we be able to pay for A.I. since it isn't covered by insurance.

And that's where we left it. A year has come and gone and I still haven't been able to get pregnant. Apathy has set back in. As the months have passed the cramps have returned and now I'm terrified to go back. Afraid to be told I'm out of options that I'm comfortable with.

Meanwhile I watch those around me get pregnant and I try to be happy for them. The truth is though that their joy makes me bitter and realizing my bitterness only makes it worse. I find myself wondering what makes them so special. What I'm doing wrong. I try to feel thankful that I have a loving/amazing Husband. Try to feel thankful that I have options and the freedom to do things. It just doesn't seem like enough. It feels like something is missing. No matter how much I complain when my dear friend's son acts out and see how tired she is at the end of the day. It's what I want.

We took a cruise for my 30th birthday. We had dinner with strangers. One was a newlywed couple eager to make babies. Then there was the other couple. On the last night the woman revealed that they had been trying to conceive for 3 years with no luck and they took the cruise to get away from the frustration. I nearly burst into tears. I wanted to reach out and hold the woman's hand, tell her I understand exactly what she meant. But I couldn't. Instead I looked at Husband with tears in my eyes and lowered my head hoping nobody noticed. I evaded the baby questions from the newlyweds. That's when I realized I had to stop hiding because I missed a chance to connect.

Fertility is a sensitive subject. People think that my uterus is fair game. They think it's their right to ask about its status and pry and tell me I'm not getting any younger. I've even had people go so far as to assume there's something wrong with my marriage and that's why we don't have kids. I don't think people who've never experienced this time of pain can understand why their comments can be so cutting.

In the meantime I try to not feel so broken. So worthless. So defective. The truth is though... I feel bitter & broken. I try to reshape my dreams into ones that don't involve kids but it feels so hollow.

So there you have it. My wounds are exposed. Maybe now they can heal.

Concert-going...

Last week the Husband and I went concert going.

It's one of our favorite things to do.
Our first official date was a concert.
(August 2002, Vanessa Carlton, Third Eye Blind & Goo Goo Dolls)

(We look so young and innocent)
(I mean it was only almost 10 years ago)
Our love affair with music is one of our most sacred bonds.
(In my opinion)
(Outside of Doctor Who)
(Which reminds me, he wants to put a Tardis decal on my car... because I don't get enough grief already)

When it comes to music I'd say we are 99% compatible. It probably has to do something with him being extremely easy going and me being very persistent. (Although we were together for something like 5 years before I realized he doesn't like The Beatles) (I'm not sure how we survived that revelation)

However, this past concert was a reminder that I'm starting to get old.

I mean the earplugs say it all really...
(On the bright side I could sleep that night because my ears didn't feel like they were going to bleed so there's that...)
(My feet on the other hand? That's a completely different story)

The lineup this time was, in our opinion, one of epic-ness.
My Darkest Days (Eh...), Seether (Yay!), Bush (I nearly fainted) & Nickelback (Yay!)

Side note: I get it. Nickelback is a polarizing band. You either hate them or you love them. Not many people are ambivalent. That being said I think some people on the negative end of the spectrum can be real assholes. For what it's worth we like them. Plus they put on a damn good show. I never fail to feel like I get my moneys worth. I can't say that for all bands. Pearl Jam/NIN I'm looking at you.... That being said if you don't like then please don't leave commentary telling me what terrible music taste I have. I respect your right to listen to music I find deplorable and I will gladly keep my mouth shut.

Needless to say, the night was epic.
I rocked my butt off to Seether...

I swooned when Bush took the stage...

I yelled at the top of my lungs when Nickelback played.

It was awesome.
At the end of the night when we stumbled in the door, achy and tired, we were still grinning like idiots.
There's something to be said for that.

I'm not ashamed.

I have an obsession.

And what's more I'm not ashamed.

I love Doctor Who.

Plain and simple.

And I'm not the only one

Before this silly British sci-fi show came into my life I didn't even like the genre of sci-fi.

I was leery.

I had a friend that insisted I would love it.

Then it showed up on Netflix.

I said what the hell.
After all, Netflix said I'd like it.

Thus began my decent into complete geekdom.

The show is so smart, witty, and about more then monsters and time travel.

One of my favorite quotes: "The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don't always soften the bad things, but vice-versa, the
bad things don't necessarily spoil the good things and make them
unimportant." - Vincent & the Doctor

I believe in the interconnectedness of the universe. I believe that we stumbled across this show when we absolutely needed. (The reality is my friend had been bugging me for months to watch it)
Sometimes you just need a break from reality.

This show has been so important to me over the last year that words fail me when I try to explain it. Husband gets it. He may roll his eyes when he sees charges from ebay on our bank statement but he gets it.
Maybe one day the words won't fail me.
Until then I'll just smile when people shake their heads at my devotion.

I like squash. A lot.

I'm currently obsessed with squash and zucchini. 

I'm sure it has something to do with the fact that they can be found in abundance at the local farmer's markets. 

Or that they are just delicious. 

The fact remains that I love them. 

It's almost unnatural.

It's not like I go outside, stomp around our veggie garden yelling "grow dammit" at my plants.

Because that would be weird.

And I'm totally normal.

Right.

This is a something I made a few weeks ago. 

I went to the Farmer's market without a clue...

Then I saw the huge baskets of squash/zucchini and the lovely $3 price tag...

Everything after that was a blur.

Husband came home and asked the dangerous question, "What's for dinner?"

I simply shrugged and said, "An experiment."

I dubbed it "Farmer's Market Mish-Mash".

Husband ate two large helpings and promptly burped. 

He claims it was the highest compliment possible.

The "recipe" is as follows...
-Find white rice that you impulsively bought at the bulk bins at Whole Food, Google how to cook it (yes I realize I'm almost 30 and don't know how to cook rice)... set aside.
-Dice up some white onion and cook for a few minutes in olive oil until good and stinky (fragrant, whatever)
-Add squash, zucchini & tomato... season with black pepper (or something else if you are not lazy like me)... let simmer for however long you have the patience for... I think I did 10 minutes because I was engrossed in a Big Bang rerun...
-Put rice in bowl and pour the veggies with juices on top.
-Eat.

(Everything but the rice was bought locally and trust me, it just tastes better)

This was tonight's experiment.

I was daydreaming while at lunch with my bestie.

Naturally my thoughts turned to squash and zucchini because I'm a huge dork.

(Seriously I don't know how I lived to be almost 30 without eating more of these delicious plants)

(Life before this discovery seems very dark...)

Anyway while perusing the isles for food my friend asks what I'm getting for dinner.

I'm sure you can guess that I shrugged and said "an experiment".

It was good.

(Never mind the fact that I forgot to get Husband mushrooms)

((I mean, seriously? They are gross))

((They are a fungus after all) )

(Or that I had to cook with canola oil instead of olive oil because I'm a huge spaz when I grocery shop)

(And maybe a touch forgetful)

So yea, here's this version...

-It's basically the same directions as before...

-Only I added red bell pepper in with the onion

-And I added a can of rinsed (this is very important) black beans at the end. 

-And I added a lot more pepper. Because I like pepper. And I'm too lazy to figure out other spices. 

It's an interesting experiment we have going on in our house.
Life is far more simple without dairy.
Now if only my garden would hurry up and grow, dammit grow.

From the Marriage Chronicles...

2 weeks ago Husband and I celebrated 8 years of legal togetherness. 

It's funny how time flies. 

It seems like only yesterday we looked like this...

 Now we look like this...

Well actually we look more like this...

We're mature. Really mature. 

(At least I didn't post the picture of me using the camera to see if there was anything in my teeth...)

---------------

Sunday night we attended a wedding for one of my dear co-workers.
The reverend is giving the couple some advice and says, "Most importantly never go to bed mad."
Husband and I look at each other and roll our eyes.
Sometimes you need to go to bed to get some perspective.
And avoid murder charges.

--------------

Last night we were driving around when Husband saw a church billboard that said something along the lines of respecting the one who drives out the demons. The following conversation happens...

Him: "Do they mean Sam & Dean? or Constantine?"

Me: "Or do they mean on occasion Doctor Who?"

We both collapse into a pile of (very mature) laughter...

------------

Me: "Guess what? I made it 5 whole days without getting any Starbucks before work.."

Him: "That's great dear... let's go get some Starbucks."

Me: "Ok!"

-----------

It's the little things in life...

Inked.

Last night I got another tattoo.

I like tattoos.

Not everyone does. I get that. Heck I married that guy. However, he sits by patiently while I get my tattoos done and even manages to say nice things about them afterward.  I kinda like him.

I have 3 tattoos. 

I got my first one when I was 20.

 

This is it in all of its tiny glory.

In retrospect I wish someone would have told me how much tattooing your ankle sucks.

Talk about pain.

I got it in a small tribute to a band that helped me through some rough times and helped me to embrace my inner freak.

No I won't tell you what band. 

Let's just say that no matter how lame they became... the music they made during this time was and always will be extremely important to me.

 I got this tattoo when I was 26 and on vacation in San Jose California.

I love frogs. 

I mean I have an unhealthy obsession with them.

My house is overflowing with frog things.

It all started when I was 14.

In particular I love poison dart frogs. 

So it seemed only natural to me that I declared my love in tattoo.

After my first tattoo I decided I didn't really like color. 

Mostly because, frog tattoos in particular, can look very cheesy in color.

I love this tattoo. 

I get compliments on it all the time.

 This one I got last night.

(For the record, I'm 29)

Yes, I got a tattoo on Friday the 13th.

I get how ominous that is.

This tattoo, as you can see, is of one of my dogs actual paw prints. 

This dog is my soul mate.

There are no words for the love I have for this dog. 

It may seem silly.

It may seem like a waste of money.

It doesn't matter though because when I decide to mark my body forever with something I don't make the decision lightly.

Sleep stories

Last night Husband and I are settling into bed when the following conversations takes place.
Him: "Can I spoon you?"
Me: "As long as you don't try to choke me out again."
He laughs.
(I will esplain in a minute)
Me: "For someone who was falling asleep on the couch 5 minutes ago I sure am wide awake now"
Him: "Me too"
5 minutes later...
He's snoring like a chainsaw while I debate the various merits of the new Starbucks remodel.
(I love insomnia)


2 nights ago....
Husband is spooning me and I'm just starting to finally drift off...
The next thing I know I'm jerked awake because Husband has just twitched violently in his sleep and has his arm wrapped around my neck.
(Apparently this phenomenon is called a myoclonic twitch, who knew)
I attempt to roll over but his grip isn't loosening...
Him: "I'm sorry"
Me: "Get off me"
Him: "I'm sorry"
Me: "Just get off me"
He finally rolls away
Him: "I'm sorry"
A few seconds of silence while I rearrange...
Him: "I'm sorry"

He, naturally, remembers nothing about this.
However, he was apparently very sorry about the whole thing.

Sleeping can be very perilous sometimes.

A classic from a few years ago...
Laying in bed trying to fall asleep (do you see a pattern here?)
Out of the blue Husband hums a tune in his sleep.
I swear.
I try not to wake him up but because I'm shaking so violently from trying to not laugh at him the whole bed is shaking and the following conversation takes place:
Him: "What's so funny?"
Me: *snort* "You were humming in your sleep!" *snort*
Him: "Stop being so weird."

As you can imagine he didn't remember a thing the next morning...

I love marriage.

A foray into DIY

I made reusable dryer sheets.

I think I'm officially a hippie.

(and yes, the fabric has frogs, hearts and the word peace on there several times) 

(as if that surprises you) 

Idea taken from here 

I procured my baby wipes container from a friend.

The flannel I found on sale and it cost me a staggering $1.50

I grabbed a bottle of Ecover fabric softener. (because again, I'm a hippie)

Goggled the amounts needed (because even basic math is puzzling to me) and then fudged the numbers anyway. 

I'm happy to report that it has been deemed a success. 

It was a very exciting day. 

Especially because now a bottle of fabric softener will last me until the end of time. 

Hooray!

Joy

Pure joy is gathering up veggies from your garden for juicing...


I'm just saying...

Looking back

Yes, the one screaming her head off is yours truly.

11 long years have passed since that photo was snapped and I got the hell out of dodge.

(I may have been a little excited about the prospect.)

This past weekend Husband and I went back to my hometown for my mom's birthday. 

I like to joke that it's our annual pilgrimage to the place that spawned me. 

(He really should pay his respects to the town that shaped me into the bundle of crazy he fell in love with, I mean really.)

During our visit I pulled out my senior yearbook because I wanted to locate someone who claimed to have known me in high school. (That is a very long and awkward story) (Because I seem to forget people) (Apparently) After completing my tasks (and easing my guilt over not knowing someone who was a freshmen when I graduated) I started reading back over the things people wrote to me in the aforementioned yearbook.

That's when things got weird. 

I had no clue who most of the people were. These people who wrote long paragraphs about how wonderful I was and how much they'd miss me. The people who had scribbled their phone numbers and begged me to keep in touch.

"Growing up is hard on a friendship. There's no revelation in that." - Ann Brashares (Sisterhood Everlasting)

Until Facebook was invented I had absolutely no idea what my long lost former best friends were up to. (Well apart from what my mom would tell me when she ran into their mothers) (small towns are stifling like that) I'm not one of those people who looks back wistfully on their teen years so it never occurred to me that I should miss these people. I didn't attend my 10 year reunion because I had no desire. (Husband on the other hand was pissed that his class didn't have a reunion) Time is funny like that. The people who meant the world to me and I couldn't imagine not being in my life have faded into vague memories. Or have faded completely.

It's weird. This thing they call growing up.

Take it or leave it.

A few days ago one of my nearest and dearest friends and I were talking about the arrival of my birthday present.

I was gifted a set of mala beads from Two Golden Frogs on Etsy by this particular friend.
My whole fascination/interest was sparked by this blog.

The whole scenario lead to an interesting conversation about our individual personalities.

My friend has an "all or nothing" personality type which I admire because her devotion to a subject or interest is so intense that she becomes an expert. Her example, "I couldn't just be a christian, no, I had to be a missionary!"
Me? I'm the complete opposite. I think, for better or worse, my interest or devotion to a subject is limited to what I find useful or interesting and I tend to leave the rest. Some may call it flighty, I call it realistic. This is probably why I never did well with church. I use to feel bad about it but in recent years there's been a shift in my thinking.

Ever since I stumbled across Kris Carr I've started adapting my way of thinking about life, religion, health, & wellness. Her "take what works and leave the rest" approach has had me on friendlier terms with myself then ever.  Sometimes I think you just have to have someone else validate what you've known works for you all along.

For the time being I like to think of my birthday present as more of worry beads then prayer beads because that's what works for me, right now. It gives me a place to put my anxiety/fear/frustration and let go. Ideally I'd like to incorporate them into a regular meditation practice but first they have a greater purpose.

Or as I told my friend, "Rules smules... things only have what value you place in them. And besides they are pretty necklaces if nothing else."

Fail!

It started innocently enough...
I had finally gotten my cooking mojo back.
I had planned a veggie-licious black bean & mango quesadilla.
The instructions said to use the broiler.
I had to call Husband at work to ask if we even had a broiler and more importantly how to use it.
That should have been a sign.
The next thing I know I have flaming quesadillas.
Literally.

Thank god for old quesadilla makers.
Thank god for Husband who slammed the broiler back shut... while I just stood there shouting that dinner was on fire. 

This is why I should not be allowed in the kitchen. 

It's not always easy...

Being someone who worships at the temple of all things veggie isn't always easy. Especially when almost everyone around you still thinks meat is the only real source of protein available. Over the years I've learned to deal with the snide remarks and funny looks. I've learned to adapt most restaurant menus to my needs and work around social situations that aren't veggie friendly. Sometimes though things happen that leave me at a loss for words or worse in tears.
So what's a girl to do when my armor is pierced and all that hard work is shattered?
I haven't got a clue.
The thing is, I'm an extremely timid person who has learned to fake being out-going and charismatic. I avoid confrontation and I'm always trying to make nice.
However, I don't know what would heal this particular incident. I feel like I've tried to be as adaptable as is possible and the whole thing is being viewed as me being difficult.

For the record, I'm not a vegetarian because I enjoy being difficult. I'm a vegetarian because I don't like the taste of meat and because I'm horrified by factory farms. I'm a vegetarian because it's what feels right in my soul.

I don't judge the people around me for eating meat. I respect their decisions. I don't beat them over the head with my beliefs or expect them to live their life like I do. I just wish they could afford me the same respect.

Mish Mash...

Last week Husband took some vacation time so that we could properly celebrate our anniversary.
(I'm sure it had nothing to do with the fact that he needed to burn some vacation time since his deployment to Korea was cancelled... Right?)
It was fantastic. We never even left town. Let's review the highlights shall we?

On our actual anniversary we ate nachos, took a nap, had take-out pizza & worked on a puzzle of the Taj Mahal. Who knew it was possible to feel competitive about puzzles? In my case... it's very possible.

On Monday we visited the zoo and I got sunburned. We go approximately every 2 years and I always get sunburned. You'd think I'd learn my lesson but no, I never do. I was annoyed that the poison dart frogs were M.I.A., again. The one thing I really look forward to and they are always off breeding or something. Oh well.

Tuesday was the long-anticipated Foo Fighters concert.

Best. Night. Ever!

It was 2.5 hours of pure awesomeness. The acoustic section of the encore was so amazing. I will forever be a devoted fan. (and for the record I have loved them ever since Big Me premiered on MTV a million years ago)

(In my opinion a concert can really make or break my love for a band and in this case I will be forever devoted) 

I really tried to grab Dave Grohl's sweaty outstretched hand on the few occasions that I was less then 5 feet from him but alas it wasn't meant to be. And as a side note, I'm not sure why I always tend to be a magnet for spilled beer at concerts but I am. This tends to make me very sad and sticky. 

And because my mom asked me what a Foo Fighter was I thought I'd include a video for my favorite song on their new album:

Needless to say Wednesday was not my best day. I felt like I had a really bad hang-over. I guess it must have been from all that beer my skin soaked up during the concert. 

Thursday we visited the aquarium. It was far better then the last time I went... something like 4 years ago, I think? We actually spent more time there then we had at the zoo. They have the cutest otter there. I seriously could have watched him all day. 

Saturday & for a few hours on Sunday we visited Mayfest. It was supreme fun. I'm now completely in love with Lisa Loudermilk's art. Too bad I don't have the cash flow to actually purchase any art...

Unless you consider this funky little frog to be art (which I do). I named him Maynard. I've also discovered that his toes are very sharp and can be used as a weapon if needed. Don't ask.

It was a fun week. 

To sum it up: When my grandma asked if we had yet to have any serious blowups my reply was "nothing that going to bed couldn't solve"... Husband's reply? "or me ignoring you until you got over it." He's so sweet.

The return!

Husband is taking the next week off work.
Therefore it's the perfect opportunity to restart juicing. (I can't possibly be bothered to get out of bed at 5:45 to juice)
Oh the glory that is green juice.
I think Husband missed it.
After he chugged his glass he looked over at mine longingly. Naturally I threatened bodily harm if he tried any funny business.
Then I lamented not buying more produce because I could have had another 7 glasses myself...
Good thing the farmers market is tomorrow.
This particular incarnation is romaine lettuce, kale, apples & lemon.
Tomorrow I'm feeling spinach, apples & possibly lemon. I'll keep you posted.




This is from the other night. It was over-flowing with yum. Black beans, sweet potato (from our garden), local spinach, cilantro lime rice, pico, avocado, & cheese.
Husband had shredded chicken on his... Nobody's perfect. ;)

In other news we'll be celebrating 7 years of wedded bliss(ish) on Sunday.
We've come a very long way...

The real evil genius?

Setting: 6am, me still snuggled under the covers, Husband getting ready for work.
He re-enters the bedroom and the following conversation takes place:

Him: Why'd you turn on the iRobot.
Me: *mummble*grumble* I didn't.
Him: Then why is it on?
Me: *gumble*mummble* I don't know.
Him: I wonder if the cat turned it on.
Me: *snuggles down farther under the covers* Go away.

Eventually I hear Husband corner it and turn it off.

The case against the cat is as follows:
Yesterday he started screaming at 5am. When that didn't get him his way (canned food and attention) he decided to up the anty today by turning on the vacuum.

See? Maybe he's the real evil genius of our household.

Buddha would be proud.

Tonight was round 2 of vegan goodness in our household. Husband was thrilled as you can imagine.




The veggies: red onion, broccoli, carrot, sugar snap peas, and garlic.




Then I added chickpeas & brown rice.




Lastly I added some avocado, salt, cayenne pepper, ground flaxseed, & olive oil.

The most important aspect was when husband didn't want the soy ginger sauce because it was already flavorful enough.
That's the best compliment.

(recipe is from Crazy Sexy Diet by Kris Carr)

That evil genius!

I posted the following on Facebook earlier:

"Husband has agreed to eat as much veggie/vegan food as I'm willing to cook. Now I have to cook... the plan has backfired. He is an evil genius."

So here I sit.

A pile of cookbooks stacked next to me on the couch.

A wet cutting board in the kitchen.

Dishes drying.

Hands reeking of cilantro, again.

And I am tired.

Tonight we're going to feast on my first & only successful vegan recipe because I bought more cilantro & green onions at the farmer's market on Saturday. I have no idea why. I just did. Turns out this is a good thing though since Husband has been bugging me to make the dish again anyway. 

Tomorrow I plan to attempt something called the "Buddha Bowl" (Crazy Sexy Diet by Kris Carr) only with sugar snap peas instead of black olives because I still don't like black olives and the snap peas were another bizarre decision I made on Saturday. 

I now have several old salsa jars overflowing with items from the bulk bins and a bowl of chickpeas soaking in the fridge. It's a whole different universe from my Taco Bueno days. Hopefully in a good way.

In the meantime though it would nice to find recipes that don't have a thousand ingredients and more importantly that it contains ingredients that I can pronounce. Also did you know that scallions are the same thing as green onions? I didn't until I googled it. I've been googling a lot lately.