And I'm Not Ashamed to Admit It.

Not only do I use Dryel at home for all my dry cleaning...

... I also cut the sheets in half so they last twice as long.

Namaste-Away

I recently started going to yoga. I wish I could say regularly, but 4 times in 2011 probably doesn't count. I wish I could say that I'm motivated to go every time, but it's actually because of a friend of mine dragging me that I've gone as much. As an exercise, I actually really do like yoga. I love its similarity to dance, all the stretching, and {let's face it} any exercise that requires me to lay on a mat is scoring major points with me!

The unfortunate thing about yoga, is that there are other people in the class doing yoga. At first I thought it would be a great opportunity to meet friends {because post-college is tough} but after a few classes, I don't think I have much in common with the die-hards. I also find a room full of people very distracting. The teachers stress the importance of being present and experiencing what's going on with your body instead of letting your mind chatter away. However when the guy behind you is panting, the girl in front of you keep nearly kicking your face, and there's a guy in the corner who just smells, it's hard to tune into yourself.

I took a different type of class yesterday, one which I had been really excited about trying. The class was clearly more serious and advanced about yoga than I am. I can keep up easily from all my dance training, I just don't have all the pose names memorized. There was a lot of ego in the class, which is annoying because that's generally the opposite of what yoga is supposed to be. And there was one incredibly distracting woman in the class who with every breath let out a moan.

Not a groan, a moan.

Don't get me wrong, yoga feels great. But it doesn't feel THAT good. And if you're seriously that close to orgasm with each new pose, you need desperately to get laid.

A Rant of Sorts

Dear Starbucks,

I love you, I mean how could I not? You meet all my needs – cappuccino for when I'm feeling {like impersonating a} European, decaf for when I'm feeling anxious, white mocha for when I need warming, iced caramel macchiato for my milky-sweet cravings, and peppermint mocha for my winter insulation {aka 5 pounds I gain every Christmas while this beverage is in season.}

Sure, I love South End type cafes and bakeries, but you're closer by and you do still have a community vibe that I dig. I tend to be “that guy” whose drink goes missing, but it's generally quickly & easily remedied. I do have one extreme pet peeve though, about your shop. And it's this:

When I ask for coffee cake, I want coffee cake. Do not ask me which kind of coffee cake I want. If I wanted blueberry coffee cake, I'd ask for blueberry. If I wanted reduced fat, I'd ask for reduced fat. If I ask for coffee cake period, give me classic coffee cake.

It's simple really, but I've had more altercations with a barista over this than I care to mention. It generally escalates into a shouting match until a “Classic” coffee cake is thrown carelessly into a ripped bag which is then slid across the counter along with a passive-agressive “have a nice day.” Then I leave feeling like an asshole, and I hate that because, I'm not.

So let's resolve this difference. From the way the question is usually stated, I have a feeling that I'm not the one who experiences this problem. It's not that I'm not willing to bend, I just don't think I have to. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, because let's face it – we know my kitchen cabinets hold little more than wine glasses.

xxoo

Amy

A Sweet Story

There's a cute old man who works at a parking lot that I always walk by on my way to work. He's usually the first person I talk to every morning, which may sound strange, but I think it's kind of neat. I don't even know his name.

I haven't seen him in a few days, but this morning when I was passing by, he quickly made his way over to me. He then gave a big smile and said, "I missed you Monday" and handed me a heart-shaped lollipop.

{The best part was that the wrapper was kind of tattered, as though he had been carrying it around in his pocket until he saw me again.}

What he doesn't realize, is that this piece of candy means so much more to me than a Valentine's Day treat. It's a measure of kindness a stranger can extend, and a reminder of the impact one seemingly unrelated life can have on another. Use it wisely, use it kindly.

Eat Your Veggies {Untraditionally Of Course!}

Despite the decade plus one of my life that I went vegetarian {my mom eventually guilted me into the whole "you're not getting enough protein" bit and I agreed to start eating chicken again. Breaded chicken...} I don't feel like I eat enough veggies. It's not that I don't like them - in fact, there are only very few I dislike, I just feel like I don't buy many, and the ones I do buy go bad quickly. And let's face it - it's way easier to just boil water for pasta.

With that in mind, I went for a pasta & veggie combo, but not the type you'd expect. I first tasted butternut squash sauce with gnocchi at a fundraising event with my mom. I can't even remember which restaurant brought it, I just remember going back for seconds. and thirds. and maybe even fourths. Later while cruising around online for recipes {I only pretend like I'm a master in the kitchen} I found this one for the sauce! I'm not exaggerating when I say it's so easy I can do it. I left out the salt {which I do with every recipe because I find I don't need it} but followed the rest of the recipe as instructed.

{Bonus Fact: all the ingredients are from my beloved Trader Joes}

{Getting steamy!}

{I admit - this part was a little weird}

{Gnocchi are done! Perfect timing!}

{Enjoy! Wine is not optional :) }

xAmy

Inspiration on Wheels

While I'm embarrassed that my own city can't boast this, I'm also very inspired..

As someone who has just recently given up having a car, this video really resonates with me. My reason for doing so wasn't largely environmental - it was more that I hardly used my car, it was expensive to keep, and to say parking in Boston is a drag would be the understatement of the century. I am delighted, though, with the environmental impact it has had, and the amount of exercise I'm now getting just by walking.

During the warmer months, I had a 3 mile roundtrip walking commute to work, which took me through the beautiful public garden and commons. Now with the dark nights and the cold, I've finally given in to taking the T, but I still feel good about my decision.

It has proven difficult to see friends, almost all of whom live outside the city. A few live near enough to the train that I can still commute, but for many, visiting them at home is almost impossible. I have grocery stores within walking distance, but to purchase furniture or other heavy items, I need to make arrangements beforehand.

Having a bicycle wouldn't completely eliminate these problems, but it would certainly make getting around easier and less time-consuming. However, I feel that riding a bike around Boston with the awful drivers {I can talk - I was one of them} honestly isn't safe. I've seen the attitude that motorists give to cyclists, and instead of respecting their decision, there is -as the video says- a feeling of two different species. There have been some changes around the city recently, with a bike lane painted onto Commonwealth Ave, but I still don't think my skills/senses are acute enough to get around safely.

I would love to see a movement towards Copenhagen's view on bicycling, for the environmental benefits, the health benefits, and a general respect and kindness towards others.

video borrowed from The City Mouse

Ex-Communication

My generation is living during a very unique time. Growing up, I played outside. I had Barbie, Lite Bright, and Legos. My toys required creativity and interaction on my part, and I only spent time on the couch when I was home sick from school. The greatest “technology” of my youth was found in toys like Teddy Ruxbin, Alfie, and the Easy Bake Oven.

I used to have to carry change around for Payphones, and on more than one occasion, I had call my mom Collect. When being dropped off at the movie theatre, I had to run inside and ask what time the movie was getting out, and then actually LOOK for my parents' car. When shopping at the mall, we had to FIND each other if we split up in the same store. It seems like the dark ages, but it was really just a decade ago.

Text messaging happened in high school, and I've sadly never looked back. Now it's possible to have an entire meal {with special instructions, no less} delivered to my apartment without speaking on the phone. Despite my job as an executive assistant, I hate answering the phone. To me, it's a little like being caught off-guard. A text message or email you can answer while multi-tasking, answer later, or ignore entirely. A phone call crashes in on your day and demands your full attention.

Facebook has seemingly eliminated even the need for interaction at all. I see about 10% of my friends list on a regular basis, and many people I'd turn down a dark alley at night to avoid talking to – but still track their life through photos. This situation happened a few weeks ago: I was walking back to work from a coffee break, and realized I was walking behind a girl I had danced with for years. I mean literally, I saw this girl in a leotard and tights 5 hours a day, 5 days a week for 8 years. Evolutionarily speaking, shouldn't my first instinct be to run up to her and say hi? To greet her with a big smile and ask how she has been and what she's up to? Thanks to technology, I know not only where she lives and works, but also what she had for breakfast this morning. Instead of approaching her, I walked about 10 feet behind her {it figures she was walking in the EXACT same direction of my building} all the while praying she didn't turn around and see me. It was such a strange feeling, then. What was I avoiding? An awkward exchange? Nothing to say to each other? Old fashioned human contact?

For a social network, it sure has changed the way we communicate, though it doesn't seem for the better. I envy foreign cultures for their close-knit families, and their ability to invite friends over without any special occasion, but upon close inspection, there's nothing really stopping me from following suit. Not physically, at least.