What day is it again?

I'm here.

The weeks have just been flying by, and I can't believe it's almost March.

February month re-cap = WORK, a trip to St. Louis to see my wiggly nephew (he can DANCE), an anniversary weekend trip to Galena, an epic cold, dropping out of Insanity, giving myself food hugs regularly. Oh, and another, shorter haircut. 

March (from what I'm expecting so far) = dinner with out-of-town friends (yeah!), a work trip that will take me to New York City and Philadelphia, more work busy-ness, an impromptu Chicago weekend? And Tim's annual officer ball/dinner in Des Moines. I'll just go ahead and write here that I hope I get back on the fitness bandwagon in the next month. Gosh, I LOVE starting over -- bring on the soreness! YEAH! (I'm faking that.)

I woke up this morning actually relieved that it was Friday. Relieved. I'm not really sure sure where that feeling comes from, other than it's been really busy around here lately. I look forward to some Saturday morning PBS in my robe, house cleaning, hockey outing with my crew (feels like forever since I've seen friends!), and church with my mom on Sunday. Oh, and kicking back with some good food to watch the Oscars. And hey, I felt so good about it being the weekend this morning, that I thought I might try working out tomorrow. Maybe.

I still have the remnants of a plague that's working it's way around my office. Which brings me to last weekend -- our winter wonderland getaway. I'll post pictures -- but the cottage and the surrounding property we stayed in was absolutely beautiful. Stunning. Picturesque. It was .... perfect.

Except, I was COMICALLY sick. I feel like we could make a movie about the last weekend that stars Chevy Chase. I was constantly attending to my nose, couldn't sleep or taste anything, and looked like a mucus monster (I felt like one, anway). Tim and I would get up and go eat these gourmet breakfasts and dinner in a room the size of your living room -- surrounded by other happy bed-and-breakfast-goers -- and I would have to interrupt everyone's romance on the hour, every hour, with an orchestra coming from my nose.

That wouldn't be so bad if not for the nosebleeds. Yes. I have an affliction shared by nerds and coke addicts where, if it's dry or I have a cold, I get nosebleeds. Picture Tim and I walking dreamily between artsy little shops in downtown Galena.... and me with a Kleenex crammed in my face. Awwwwwesome.

I told Tim that this can't be an annual thing for us -- I got comically sunburnt on our romantic Mexican honeymoon last year. I have to break the tradition of being an achy, whiny mess on our trips together! I want a do-over. On both counts.

Seriously, Tim and I think it would be great if we could round up a few friends and head back to Isla Mujeres for a little spring break -- anyone else in for March 2013? Sun, beaches, cheap flights and plentiful booze... and we could share a vacation rental.

Let's go.

I'm running away

For the weekend, anyway. It's time to get out of dodge and clear my head! I'm headed to St. Louis to get some good quality family time with my mom, sister/brother-in-law, and ADORABLE nephew. It'll be the refresh/recharge that I need after the past few, difficult weeks.

But to do that, I have to confront an irrational fear I have: I hate driving, by myself, and especially for long distances. Actually, I don't even like riding long distances.

I'm really not sure where this fear started, but I think it's getting worse the older I get and the more I avoid it (I'm sure my people notice).

A few years back, I got into two, rear-end accidents (one in 2007, one in 2008) that were my fault. But both happened really quickly -- in the time it takes to look at your radio. Since then, I've slowly started to get leerier about following another car too closely, not using a turn signal, or other cars getting up in my biz. Or really any form of irregular driving sends a shot of nor epinephrine up my spine.

The only way I could see my sister this weekend was driving myself there. I need to do it. I won't die on the road. It'll be fine.

hgfhgfhsghs

Here's to confronting fear head on!!!

Can I tell you a secret?

I would love to turn this blog into an even bigger hobby. I think, if I could decide what my angle was, that it would be really fun and make me happy. I love what I do for a living, but outside of my salaried job, this is sort of my medium. My creative instant gratification.

Some ideas:

1.) Focus the blog around food + life, incorporate photography and kill two hobbies with one stone (maybe this is an overdone concept?)
2). Get some collaborators and talk about food, life, and style in our local area. Have a few voices in the blog and dig into the community and arts 'round here (they do exist -- any takers?)
3). Take away any hobby angle and just leave the focus up to life, but likely only from a later-20s, woman point of view (unless I do a he said/she said concept with another, male collaborator).

Any of these concepts would require a new design and some additional organization (read: NOT so much that it becomes part of the stress).

Which way to turn?

Whatever gets you through the day

I'm all.... in my head lately. Like, living in there. Where I am never just focused on one thing. Working + all in my head. Working out, half-heartedly.... because I'm all in my head. Taking a weekend to bake, bake, bake -- because I can do that and also be in my head. Driving + in my head (I KNOW). Trying to have meaningful conversations with people + in my head.

It's exhausting.

I think my driven, competitive sides might actually kill me here. Don't let my copious amounts of TV watching and resistance into responsibility over dogs or children fool you. I'm always thinking. I approach everything like a project. And lately, I have real projects with work that are taking up space.... thus the living in my head.

Here is a simplified version of what my head looks like lately:

"Wow, work has been challenging and I want to make the most out of this weekend. It has to be the best, most relaxing weekend. I better prioritize what that means ahead of time so I don't waste it. Better include some quality time with the husband so we can stay on a trajectory to have a marriage that is better than everyone else's. Wonder if we can fake quality time while we are also recycling cans. The cans are starting to bother me. They are in the kitchen, basement, and garage and we are being swallowed by cans. But can't stress about that because I need the weekend to clear my head. Reading over coffee in the morning would be great, but I better decide if I should keep reading my entertaining books, or read something that might help me get through my work challenges, or in general, read something that will improve me as a person. You're not supposed to stress about what you read on the weekend over coffee. Oh, that's right. Did I pay the cable bill? I think I did, but I better check. The next time I am online, I will check. Remember the work challenges? Let's get back to those......."

And there goes another hour. Please don't think I'm a crazy person. I'm probably just a normal adult trying to juggle things. I'm really bad at meditation though, if you can't guess.

I think it's time for a cleanse. I need to try to give up some of the things that I stress/obsess over so I can better enjoy everything else.

..... and where to start.

Amen, sister

Here is a recent post from another blogger I follow, New Girl on Post. She mostly writes about travel and living abroad, but her post Tuesday was poignant, and something I think we all struggle with.

So, a few disclaimers. I believe in health, moderation (truly, even with my random stash eating and baking blowouts), and enjoying the good things in life. I try and balance exercise when I can, meals with nutrients I need, and indulgences that keep me happy.

But I agree with New Girl's post -- we (I say this as a society, and as a woman) have to stop focusing well-being around size and scale numbers.

My jean size and weight do not signify how I love or am loved. They don't represent how well I do my job or keep the promises I make. Those numbers don't make me beautiful. The numbers don't make a difference in the world. (Sorry for getting a little carried away there, but seriously).

They don't represent my cholesterol levels, blood pressure, or energy during the day, although those are much better metrics for my well-being.

Every woman (and probably a lot of men) knows this scene. We turn around and complain to our cube mate at work that we had a handful of M&M's yesterday and didn't make it to the gym. We worry to our friends that we gained 5 pounds, or we celebrate when we have lost 5 pounds by eating yogurt for lunch. We tell ourselves that we feel fat/look fat/have to start dieting. We obsess over the numbers and put ourselves down. We idolize models whose Photoshopped-figures are truly unattainable.

It's a hard cycle to break. I do it without realizing. Even this week, when we did our weigh in and 2-week fit test for our Insanity challenge, I was discouraged somewhat because my weight stayed the same. Why did I care? Would I really have gone back in time and denied myself the treats I had? Probably not. What I really should have been thinking first was that I had worked out more consecutive days in a row than ever, I was getting stronger, and I had more energy than before. I was recovering faster after working out, and that means my cardiovascular health was improving.

My health was improving.

This is sort of a serious/rambling post, but it means a lot to me. I think we need to start changing the conversation. Certainly I understand how weight/image and health are connected, but why don't we talk more about the risks of weight/image being the first and only priority? What about how happiness is connected to all of it?

I'm a happier person when I'm keeping the balance mentioned above (I want my chocolate, people!). And I want the important people in my life to be healthy and balanced, too. I don't care what size they are. I think they are beautiful. I only care about getting as many healthy years with them as I can.

This post is not important

But ladies and well-dressed gentlemen, I need your help.

Remember how I said in my last post that I get more excited to food shop than clothes/shoe shop? Well, I have a practical need now in the shoe department that requires attention.

So, I hardly ever spend money on shoes. I'll pick up a really cheap pair here and there, but then wear the crap out of it until it needs replacing. And usually, all my shoes need replacing at once, and it's a really overwhelming task (for WHATEVER reason). I can never decide what to get! I overthink how often I will wear them, if they will make me too tall, etc. etc.

Here is the primary need. It snowed in Iowa. A lot. It's slushy and cold, and I can't get by a) wearing dress shoes and socks or b) wearing my now-beat up pairs of knee high boots and skinny jeans every day.

My requirements:

1) Flat or a low heel
2) Can be worn with jeans or dress slacks
3) Preferably not suede or faux suede
4) Don't make me look twice my age (for whatever reason, I think this shoe type with my requirements is primarily marketed to middle-aged women.)

I've been wandering around shoe sections of stores and looking online. Between all the boot, bootie, and now... wait for it... shootie styles out there, I can't make up my mind. How do you guys get by with stylish footwear in the winter?

I think in past years, I've really not cared this much. But I have a few more days this winter/spring that require me to dress nicely, and I'd like something that I can wear to/from the car because I won't have the opportunity to wear snow boots and carry normal shoes in a bag.

Suggestions?

Oh no, she didn't

I decided that I would try and cut out the sweets during the week, a la my-favorite-blogger-I-would-want-to-be-besties-with Iowa Girl Eats. I'm only 24 hours into that decision, and I've ALREADY decided what I want to bake this weekend.

I really haven't spent much time baking since my Christmas cookie whirlwind. I've said it before, but cooking and baking is the only science I can really get excited about, and this weekend, I'm going to try two new things -- chocolate and tarts.

Thank you Martha Stewart.

I'm technically breaking my rule, because 2 of the three recipes will go to work with me for a birthday Friday (which is not the weekend). Sorry, friends. But if I'm successful, these could make appearances at your next gathering. Invite me. I might be chatty and slightly narcissistic (hello, I have a blog), but I show up with the goods.

Recipe No.1 = Chocolate Peanut Butter Shortbread Squares.

These seem to combine more than a few favorites into one treat. Chocolate? Check. Peanut Butter? Check. A cookie made primarily of butter? Ch-ch-check. I think the square part is really just a suggestion, only if you like your treats all cute and bite-sized. I prefer mine by the sliver every time I walk into the kitchen, until half the pan is gone. Mine aren't going to look that pretty because I can't be bothered to buy a basket-weave chocolate mold.

Recipe No. 2 = Chocolate Ganache Tart

The motivation behind this one was fairly simple. Try a ganache, try an almond tart crust, and finally use the sweet little tart pans I got in my stocking this Christmas. The tarts and the shortbread are headed to work with me. 

Recipe No. 3 = Flourless Chocolate Cake

Oh, yes. Because this one doesn't lend itself well to single servings or travel, this one is staying home. I've had this dessert at countless restaurants, and this recipe is surprisingly easy (looking). All three of these recipes are, actually, otherwise I probably wouldn't have stacked so many into a single kitchen-lab experiment.

The science part of all of these is similar -- melt chocolate and add ingredients to it, and not make it seize up in the pan/bowl. I got really excited about finding the right chocolate to use and finally buying parchment paper. More excited than I get about buying clothes/shoes. Sad?