STAY HAPPY.

My emotions tend to lie on the surface of the pendulum scale. Swinging like a little girl on an outdoor tire swing. It’s the stress I take on day to day where the questions become “when do I endure it and how?” Every now and then it takes a subtle sigh or time out to realize how fortunate I really am….and every now and then, when the odds are stacked and you’re sitting in the bleachers staring at these odds from a panorama view, it takes somebody like Dakota Wint to relieve you almost entirely. To remind you through his words, the strength and amount you’re worth. In between the ocean and holes, the charcoal and coals, the thrust and the pulls, and in between the crevice and trees, the leaves through the breeze, the flood and the freeze, will always lie the strength within me.

 

POST, PINE, PONDER…

When the day comes where I will finally learn to ride a bike—I hope to look like this.

Rural, Rustic, Rigid, Raw. All not synonymous; all synonymous.

Something about this picture makes me sing “I love macarons, I love macarons” in the tune of Tim Burton’s “This is Halloween” song sung throughout Nightmare Before Christmas.

“Guard well your spare moments. They are like uncut diamonds. Discard them and their value will never be known. Improve them and they will become the brightest gems in a useful life.”- Ralph Waldo Emerson

“If love was a beam, you’d be blind in both eyes.
Put your sunglasses on ’cause you’re a deer in the headlights.”- Owl City.

Oy vey. Those are the only words I could muster up about the way this day is looking. Let’s start from the beginning, shall we? Today started out as a normal day; I woke up at eight, went to the dentist and back (by which I mean, I used my Phillips Sonicare Toothbrush that really delivers that oral bliss they advertise—or rather, that I advertise for them), then I went to class , now I’m waiting for the professor to come in, I’m still sore from last night’s yoga and to spare you the rest of my oh-so complex day, here I am. And in a couple of hours I will be teaching my first grade class. And in a couple of hours from that I will be tutoring in Hebrew. And in a couple of hours from that I will be going to Yoga To The People downtown by St. Marks. But didn’t I already say “enough about my day?” It just seems like these days are speeding by, with my same old, same old routines.  As Conor Oberst would sing “Sunrise, Sunset, swiftly goes the days…”
But despite my daily routines. There always manages something to alter the day. It may have been at 9:14, maybe even 9:15. For a pedantic like myself, I am also surprised I didn’t take extensive notice. But around that time I have hit the internet jackpot. This seems superficial, I know it seemed like I was headed in this I-have-seen-the-light-and-it-was-wonderful type of post. Maybe that will be my next post. Or post after that, or post after that.
To add a meaningful aspect to redeem the above sentences: I used to work at an art gallery on 60th and Central Park West. In which I was given a photography book to study. My views on photography and how special it is was transformed the minute I opened the book. I have found the true meaning of what it meant to be speechless over a picture. Before that, a picture was just worth a thousand words. But a thousand is mere chump words when you find out the beauty of being speechless.The author (of whose name I cannot recall) described the beauty of the picture to be the fact that it will stay eternal in the frame. Even if it was demolished by the hands of human beings or wrecked by natural causes, the story remains forever within the frame.
There were way too many pictures to post, pine, and ponder over. I picked the ones that made me jump around like a jack in the box. Find your own via: capecodcollegiate

EZEKIAL EXCELLENCE.

This just may be both the simplest and easiest lunch I have yet to make. And it’s damn good. The wrap is an 80 calorie Ezekial wrap filled with Olives of all sort, Lettuce, Spinach, Tuna/no mayo I substituted a teaspoon of dill sauce dip instead, Feta cheese (you know I love my cheese), red onions, and finishing it off with a spread of olive sauce. To say it was divine would be a heavenly understatement. Next to it is my basic saintly salad with just a dash of lemon instead of Balsamic Vinegar. In my special birthday mug, basic hot water and lemon. Trust me when I say, I could live off this meal for quite some time. And who said “lettuce is cow food”—oh that’s right, my dad’s motto. We’re currently working on that.

THE SAINTLY SALAD.


It’s good being back on my own turf. Being back in New York started off to a success. Those who are uninterested in discussing details may passingly say “so far, so good.” But I can’t resist— I love details. No pun intended, but I eat them up–devouring every juicy meaning hidden beneath each succulent word. See what I did there? Every adjective used was exactly how I described this saintly salad– tossed with spinach, lettuce, pumpkin seeds, almonds, strawberries, feta, scallions and craisins. Sprinkled with a little Balsamic and a dash of lemon. With a simple recipe like that, who wouldn’t beg for the details?

SHINING SUKKAH.

This chandelier was made by a dear friend out of a hula hoop wrapped around in icicle lights. If this is what he does for the Jewish holiday of Sukkot, I can’t wait to see what he will come up with for the festival of lights. All credit to Lionel Ash.

CRUSTED.

Picture of Falafel-Crusted Chicken With Hummus Slaw Recipe

This recipe got me at “crusted.” After stumbling upon this goldmine on the interweb, I came to the realization that everything with the word “crusted” is bound to taste good. From crusted Mac and Cheese (with Quinoa noodles, delicious.) to crusted pistachio salmon, I dare you to find one bad food that has that word in it. I can’t wait to try this!

Via: nomnomnow.

TRIO.

My sister subtly dropped this gem in my inbox as a bridesmaid dress suggestion for her wedding last November. I find this dress similar to that jesting one liner “If I had a British accent I would never shut up.” Similarly, If I had this dress I would never take it off. So in retrospect, tis a good thing I didn’t get this made. I would wear it all day. Every day. Although I am quite happy with the dress I ended up making, I don’t love it to the extent that it’s glued to my body…but maybe that’s just my peers lucking out.

GERIATRIC STARLET.

Throughout these blogs entries I showed you the following: the clothing I pine for, the goal weight I plan to achieve, and the healthier alternative menu I wish to make. However, I shed no light on who I am as an individual and what I really love. For all anyone knows, I could be taking part in the Liberia Genocide whilst blogging about my life style change in my safe zone hut back in Monrovia. Luckily, only the last half of that is semi-true. Which prompts me to leave another fact (but this time fully true): Thou shan’t be fooled, I am really  a ninety year old stuck in a twenty one year old’s body. How so? Two weeks ago I met a girl curious enough to ask the same question. So here goes: for starters, my Saturday nights usually involve some sort of Bette Davis and/or Rita Hayworth picture. Which in my ninety year old vernacular is code for “movie,”my Pandora station is almost always on the Doo-Wop station (because nothing gets my endorphins flowing at the gym like The Coasters, The Marvelettes, and some good ole’ Gene Chandler.) Lastly, I love visiting nursing homes. For a place packed with compliments, wisdom, and grace, I don’t know why anyone would stray far away when given the choice. Now, I am not that severed from my time; I know when some walk in they tend to tremble, cinch their nose up from the smell of Linesol, and even have a Danny Elfman playist going on in the back-burner of their mind. Yet, that is certainly not my case; I love it. No Elfman music, no cinched up nose, no reapplying the anti-perspirant. Just filled with pure admiration and love.The wisdom one can obtain at a trip to a nearby nursing home wouldn’t be half of the information one would get from a lunch-in with Yoda. After all, wasn’t it 85 year old Otto from Hungary who told me I look like Nigella Lawson from the Food Network? Smart and wise. But I ramble.
So seeing ninety year old Iris Apfel as the face for MAC back in January seriously left me with (so it appears) an everlasting grin. Many comments called this woman “fierce” and I couldn’t agree more. Fierce and fun. It’s no surprise this woman’s name is Iris— she is seriously eye-opening. Not to mention her last name “Apfel” means “apple” in German which is pretty much the main color palette she was working with.


Via: GeriatricStarlet”