new: cinnaberry Asian

not quite a ginger but I'll settle for anime-worthy.

conversation:

mom: ok, stick your head under here.

[I place my hair under the faucet until all is wet.]

mom: why is it dripping?

me: because it's wet.

[mom rubs my hair with towel and then runs her fingers through my matted mess.]

mom: it's not very wet.

me: umm probably because YOU JUST DRIED IT.

mom: no, you didn't get it wet enough. let me do it.

and process repeats.






giving a plastic bag its fifteen minutes of fame.






red tint on my hair's infinite blackness. I smell like cinnamon.

new: bible study

tonight, I went to a bible study at Calvary Chapel. the fellow studiers were singles around 25-30 years old, including my friend Amy. I have not been to church or a bible study in years--for many reasons, mostly personal-- so this new experience prompts much reflection and many questions.

the focus of tonight's study was on the definition of man/sin in order to establish the importance of a foundation in Gos. we looked at 1 Thessalonians 5 and the first few chapters of Genesis. the bible states that man was fashioned after God and was given a task to tend the garden of Eden-- until, as we all know, the serpent tricked Eve and the fall of mankind ensued. we, therefore, are cursed with physical pain and separation from God because of sin. man is three parts: spirit, soul, and body. all three parts suffer because of original sin, but the spirit is important because it is a metaphorical umbilical cord to God. as the bible study leader said, we cannot know God without our spirit and we will be denied entrance into the kingdom of heaven.

cool. I believe all of that. I do not doubt that Eve was tempted by Satan with the false promise that everything would be ok, that through her rebellion she would learn about good and evil, and that sharing her knowledge would lead to greater enlightenment. so mankind is weak; but God made him so. and I believe that Christians are terrified by the thought of eternal separation from God and therefore spending their life away from earth in hell with the devil (any episode of "South Park" would confirm that). but what if the thought of living FOREVER makes me feel so tired and hopeless that I wish for nonexistence beyond my temporal life? like, really, I go through life here and there's still more to it? please.

how do spirit, soul, and body work together? who do I really address when I say things like, "oh my god" and "I swear..."? why don't I pray? (tonight, I prayed out loud for the first time in a prayer circle.) what keeps me from acceptance-- if belief is there, why won't I receive?

we all answer to a higher power. it's figuring out what/who that really is.

new: hour of power

golds gym style.

-15 min treadmill
-15 min bike
-15 min combo stair stepper/elliptical
-15 min elliptical

(actually i spent almost 17 minutes on the bike... I got wrapped up in "the mentalist." that Simon Baker.)

-508 calories burned
-7.1 miles accomplished

and my cranberry-pomegranate juice with vanilla whey powder is the most delicious dessert I've had in a while.

i feel really good about my workouts since re-joining a gym. it's not hard work-- I can watch tv and socialize and burn off my daytime food sins (like the southwest-style chicken and dumplings soup at subway today... frickin awesome). today's new workout challenge is one I will likely repeat. 15 minutes per machine goes by so much faster than 30-45 on a single machine.

now for some edamame and antiques roadshow.

new: CPht

well, i finally took the plunge: i received my pharmacy technician certification.  the testing location was boise state's technology building, so i rode my bike on the greenbelt this morning to get there; today was truly a perfect, sunny yet crisp day in boise and the fresh air woke me up more than my morning java-- i don't think i could have picked a more beautiful day to ride towards an exam.  i can only speculate as to the real reason for my silly procrastination... my national certification means i will get a raise and can now brag about my awesome job title on my ever-waning CV.

because, you know this piece of paper with a number on it saying i passed has nothing to do with my ability to calculate days supply, or figure out how much blah i will need to make 20% of blah with blah-blah, or recite the formula for young's, fried's, and clarks rule for calculating childrens' dosing, or recognizing the difference between a proton pump inhibitor and an h-2 blocker.

i mean, you know that this certification really entitles me to go to work each and every day with a smile and freshly washed white smock-- where i can pander to narcotics addicts, and pretend like i care that the diapers being purchased are for a 17-year-old tabby cat with incontinence issues, and completely screw over yet another grandma who pays hundreds of dollars a month so she can breathe and build up her decaying femurs, and gradually despise every.single.welfare.recipient who reaches inside her coach purse with her manicured nails reeking of menthols in her juicy couture track suit, and answer the incessantly ringing phone with a genuine greeting and desire to help out my fellow human sickies.

congratulations to me.

new: Asian helper

I am all about easy cooking. tonight, I let Betty Crocker lend me a hand with Asian Helper's chicken fried rice. you too can find this little kitchen friend in your local grocery store. in Albertsons, it is located in the boxed dinners (do not search for it next to the soy sauce and seaweed, as logical and tempting as it is).







I am no stranger to hamburger and chicken helper. I love the cheesy enchilada helper, and I am surprised that ol Betty hasn't launched a line of Mexican-- oh, excuse me, Latino-- Helper to stack next to Italian Helper (you mean the lasagna helper is trying to pass as american food?! gasp!) and Lazy Ass at-least-this-isnt-mcdonalds Helper. I am sure glad that the chicken fried rice box that I bought tonight for $1 was labeled Asian though-- I wouldn't want consumers mistakenly buying something so obviously ethnic and thinking it was just a version of middle-class, white American 3 cheese macaroni.

I mixed up some of my own ingredients:





and 30 minutes later, I had chicken fried rice! I was sooo helped by the Asian!





my tastebuds approve! although, I'm pretty sure ultra-authentic panda express still takes the prize for best fried rice.

then I noticed my meal was missing something. oh no! I forgot the egg!





then it was even better.





try it out. maybe next time I'll live on the edge and get Mongolian-style beef-- not to be confused with the real Mongolian beef... it's just the style...





I AM ASIAN HELPER!!!
and so can you.

new: pool shark

since joining golds gym, I've spent countless hours exercising. I'll admit: boredom seeps in. and you'd think I would know better than dousing my epidermis in a non-chlorinated body of water, but I challenged myself to swim the saline waters at golds today. after months of excuses (I don't have the right swimsuit, I need goggles, what if I contract syphilis from microscopic chunks of floating flesh), I dove right in.

not exactly.

I walked in on an adult water aerobics class. so I sat in the hottub, avoiding the eyes of a rather dimply (and not just in the facial region) old man and a younger couple having a very serious conversation with their eyes. when the class ended, I shuffled over to the pool and dipped a toe in. the water was surprisingly warm-- but not TOO warm, because pool water that is body temperature reminds me of unknowingly swimming into my brother's pee patches in our backyard pool when I was younger. I always had an in-ground pool growing up in California, but my aquatic activities were limited to pretending I was a mermaid and diving for rings aka sunken treasure.

once I hopped into the golds pool, I kind of stood there. I stretched and pretended like I totally knew how to pull a Michael Phelps. except, laps made my shoulders hurt after one very crooked line to the other end. then I tried running in the water; seriously, it was much harder than I thought. feeling lost, I decided to float on my back and listen to the water sounds.

and then I decided to kick and swim backward. this worked out quite well--my shoulders didn't ache and my legs got a workout. in hindsight, I imagine I looked something like a giant silly sea otter but eh.

I'm still pruny and rather cold (I don't think hot showers could ever stop feeling amazing), but I would swim again if I could figure out how to exercise and not look confused. am I too old for swimming lessons?

new: tanzanite and beets

when I graduated from high school, my parents bought me a beautiful tanzanite and diamond ring. time dulled the white gold and thickened my finger; I wore it less and less. I decided to resize my ring up half a size and wear it on my right hand ring finger (instead of my left hand where I wore it before). the ring is newly plated and cleaned-- so shiny!











since I was heading to the mall to pick up my ring, I decided to dine at the Cheesecake Factory. I have been craving their endive salad and determined that eating at a real restaurant alone was something new. I've eaten lunch alone countless times but never at a restaurant where I leave a tip and such.

I approached the hostess and immediately became self-conscious.

"how many?" she asked.

"one," I replied.

"oh! how's your day going?"

"good. yours?"

she smiled and said, "oh you know!"

I really didn't know, but at this point she began conferring with another man who was pouring over the table chart.

"she's alone," the hostess reminded him. "here?" she asked him as she pointed to something on the map.

"no, 35," he said, "so she won't be alone."

perhaps eating out alone on a Sunday night is sadder than I thought. really, my intentions were to enjoy a good meal without relying on a friend to accompany me. I grow increasingly annoyed with feeling held back because of other people.

so table 35 was a table for 2 right next to a table for 6. its occupants turned out to be a fairly prominent Boise surgeon and his wife and kids; they also happen to fill at my pharmacy. after the somewhat awkward smiles of acknowledgement, I looke over the small bites appetizer section. in addition to the endive salad, I ordered beets with apples and gorgonzola cheese.






i had never eaten beets before. they taste nothing like they look; I was expecting somethig sweet but was pleasantly surprised by their earthy flavor (kind of mirroring the musky flavor of the cheese). I like my new vegetable friend.

my server asked me three times how I was doing. not "how's the food?" but "are you ok? how are you? things ok? you doing all right?" and what if they weren't? would she have listened? I suppose her questions were asked with good intentions, which brings me to believe people are not as cold and selfish as I sometimes think.

three girls ate dessert at the table across from me. they appeared to be looking for someone, and I heard one of the girls say, "we could ask her? she's alone." but then my server walked by their table, and one girl asked her to take their photo.

i don't really know what I expected from my solo dining experience other than good food. I did not enjoy the anonymity I would have appreciated; however, I ate faster (the lack of conversing with a table partner probably contributed to this) and felt more aware of my surroundings-- like noticing the mural on the ceiling of the CF and being able to study the details of the tile pattern on the floor.

not a bad way to spend a Sunday night.

new: B2B

in junior high, I hated two things: menstruating and "running the mile" in PE. I think a good mile time for me was something like 14 or 15 minutes. maybe even 20. sweating was just so, like, not kewl and skinny was, like, so gr8.

well, I still think sweating is yucky. however, so is feeling like a blobby chunk of cottage cheese with flesh. the scale says I've lost 21 lbs since June, and with newfound confidence comes a sense of athleticism and duty to display these solid beastly thighs. and ta-da, today I ran my first 5k race: barber to Boise, although the 5k actually looped through just Boise.

my pre-race self-portrait.






the race was quick. I started out frustrated, weaving through strollers and children in tutus. (now, I think a tutu would have been fabulous. then, I thought, "MOVE YOUR FLUFFY TAFFETA OR LOSE IT!") I made it past the 1 mile mark, still at a solid jog, and I heard a girl say, "1.33!" (miles), checked my watch and saw it had been about 12 minutes and I immediately thought, Frick, i'm going to burn out.

I walked five times between the halfway point and the finish line, was beaten by an 11-year-old in a grass skirt (the shame), but finished with a time of 31:44. I think my thought process during the final lap around Bronco Stadium was, "sweatpancakessweatpainpancakesowwwwPANCAKES..."

then I ate my victory food with a 50ish-yrs old friendly couple who finished in under 20 minutes. good for them, I hope I am still as fit and in love when I'm 50.





then I remembered why I should have ridden my bike today after reaching my car. stupid hybrid piece of crap, I hope you rot in a junkyard next to toasters and curling irons.

nap time.

a star is born

I have decided on a new venture.

I will break out of my box, get out of my rut, and all those other cliche phrases.

new.

change.

aiming for some perspective on the old.

challenge.

I will try something new everyday for 1 month. starting October 16 aka race day. be ready. set.

next

lately, my blog functions as a challenge board for me. first, a post a day. then, pictures of summer. each blog post is like a little gold star. hoooray, I did what I told myself to do! and really, I benefit from writing (and photographing, I suppose) more than you do.

so why stop the ego trip?

I wonder what I should do now. I'm thinking, I'm thinking...