a taste of boulder.

a taste of thanksgiving.

a few thanksgiving musings.

thanksgiving in boulder, two years ago

it's 6:30 am and i'm up.

my little green mug of a coffee cup next to me. i like this green mug. it looks something like a plant-potter. it makes getting up easier.

i'm not a good traveler. have i mentioned this? i think have.

i'm one of those people that likes to leave hours and hours in advance so i can just sit at the gate. better safe than sorry, i say. so you can imagine how these new security screenings have me all aflutter.

here's the plan. subway to midtown. huge suitcase in tow (because for whatever reason i never managed to get a medium size one to my manhattan apartment). exercise class (perhaps physique will calm me before the travel?). and then to the airport. this is all plausible, doable.

i've even picked out a special outfit to wear on the plan. because i still believe in that--getting slightly dressed-up for such things. i'm not a sweatpants traveler, no sirree.

did you know thanksgiving is my favorite holiday? i've said this before. i think because it feels like a three-four-day-event more than any other holiday. i however, am not a fan of thanksgiving food, never have been. i've never enjoyed turkey (unless ground) and i'm not a stuffing person. i do however make a mean ice cream pie which basically consist of a a pre-made pie crust, three different flavors (often of the chocolate and toffee family) and crushed heath bars. let me tell you, it takes a real artisan to make this pie. and an artisan i am. we all have our own thanksgiving traditions. the ice cream pie? well, that's mine.

my family drinks champagne on the actual day. i am looking forward to this.

and for whatever reason there's nothing i want so much during my five-day-adventure than a fresh-out-of-the-oven-cinnamon-bun.

i'm even (wait for it) looking forward to the traditional family hike. and i. am. not. a hiker. but there you have it. the dogs come. we all pile in the cars. and if there's any snow or ice on the ground i tend to take a tumble at one or two different points.


and you know what i keep thinking about? thanksgiving two years ago. and this post. and not being able to bring a pair of jeans. and how this time i can. and how it's simultaneously so exciting. and so not a big deal.

i'm trying to leave my worries here in new york. my concerns about my day-jobs and my future. those nasty, little nagging feelings of disbelief and fear. because i get to escape for five days and i sure as hell don't want them catching a ride in my black suitcase. it's big. just not that big.

the circus

on thursday night i headed to lincoln center to meet a friend and go to the circus.

yes, lincoln center. the great arts mecca of new york city (or one of them, at least).

and there nestled between the metropolitan opera house and alice tully hall and avery fisher and juilliard--right amidst all the towering white building made of granite or some such is the temporary white canvas of the big apple circus.

when kathy and i arrived and the show began we both quickly decided that perhaps we should have gotten a drink first. there was something a bit depressing about it all. the empty seats--the sense that the entire production was a bit worn around the edges. the feeling that the art form itself was struggling to find a foothold--to adapt to these modern times.

and yet given enough time and enough stragglers the tent began to fill with not only warm bodies, but the squeals of children. and if the squeals of children can't totally undo you, well then, i'm not sure what to tell you.

kathy and i ended up squealing a bit ourselves, or at least laughing deeply for a good two hours. there was nothing i loved so much as the dogs and horses and goats, i would go each night for that alone.

oh, to see a goat ride a horse--if you've not seen this at least once in your life: amend, amend at once!!

all that being said, i suppose there's something to learn from the circus. and so my goal for this week is to laugh deeply.

to laugh deeply, and love deeply, and live outwards in all directions at once. (that's not too overwhelming a goal for this thanksgiving week, is it?). nah, didn't think so.

happy monday (a very gray monday in new york) to you!

FED: a few thoughts from this week

i have come to realize that how i feel about my body is in large part related to the quality of food i consume.**

meaning the better the food, the better i think i look...oh, the vanity!

i've not been making great choices lately. and it's not that i've been choosing terrible foods, it's more that i haven't been choosing good foods.

good is a tricky word. what i mean by it is food that provides my body with nutrients, vitamins, energy, the promise of a long-life (or some such).

for me healthy-eating is not the default setting. it has to be a constant, front-of-the-foot motion. the weighing of all options and the active choice (again and again and again) to eat well.

and when i allow ease and convenience to supersede other needs, well,  then processed foods tend to win out and it's a slow, downward spiral that leaves me feeling just-a-little-bit-off.

i forget sometimes that food isn't just for pleasure. sometimes i have to eat something even if i don't love it.

yesterday morning i pulled the cottage cheese from the back of my fridge. it had yet to be opened. sigh. i checked the expiration date to make sure it was still in the realm of won't-make-me-too-sick and then proceeded to pile it on a slice of whole wheat toast. let's be honest. i really love my trader joe's tuscan white bread. and i really love it with butter. and cottage cheese on whole wheat--not. my. favorite. but it's good for me. really good for me. (ps: cottage cheese is unbelievably high in protein so for anyone who doesn't eat meat it is a cheap, effective way to keep the body going).

so i had my cottage cheese on whole wheat bread. and immediately i felt better. it was as though space arose within me. does that make any sense? not to me either, but that was the sensation--and one that i could spend the rest of my life chasing because it was just that good.

and i spent the rest of my day attempting to make good choices. a peanut butter and banana smoothie from GNC. a faux chicken patty for lunch. followed by yogurt. and a mediterranean wrap from a new health bar on 72nd (so not tasty, but at least i got some veggies in, right?). pop chips and almonds.

the danger in feeling like i haven't been eating well is that it makes me nervous. yes, i get nervous. in fact, i have a tendency to panic. and inevitably i try to autocorrect--that's my impulse, always. but as anyone who has an iphone knows, autocorrect gets it wrong more often than not.

i was walking down broadway thinking about my food choices and i longed for some confirmation that i had been good enough. good enough? what does that even mean? it's such a dangerous thought, such an unhealthy phrase. but it made clear why diets are so seductive: diets take all the guesswork out. they make the picture black and white. either you've been good enough. or you haven't. there's no uncertainty. but life is not black and white. there is uncertainty. period.

diets don't work because a person can't chart their life in black and white forever.

and the thing is, if you can't do it forever. it just won't work. fin. end of story.

**the important thing to remember (for me, just as much as anyone else) is that the food i put in my body is only a fraction of the story. how i think i look depends on so many different things--most of which i can't control. but what it really comes down to is happiness--or at least the pursuit of it. so a weekly bouquet of flowers, a morning coffee, dressers over-flowing with freshly-laundered shirts, and clean bedroom (a bed made each morning, included)--these daily niceties determine my view of myself just as much as whether i choose to reach for that second cupcake or not.**

and an interesting note: our body weight fluctuates by six pounds each day. meaning at any given moment we might be up six or down six and it has nothing to do with what we've eaten or whether or not the bed made was made in the morning. weight, is in fact... wait for it... random. feed on that.