Lovely Splendid

Year of the Tiger in review

2010-12-31T15:52:00.000-07:00

I am so excited for 2011. I know there are internet servers groaning around the world because they have to support yet another blog post about how excited a blogger is looking forward to a New Year and a new start. Yet, I don't care. Because if there are servers out there that are annoyed, aka feeling feelings, then that's just bad news. At that point, we need to completely forget about my blog and do something about computers having emotions. Am I right? We are five sentences into this post and I am already off track, let's just blame it on the half and half in my coffee.

I have been referring to 2011 as "The Year of the Rabbit" because I want to cook rabbit for the first time this year and I think I'm so funny all the time. Wouldn't you know, this year is the actual Chinese Year of the Rabbit. Awesome.

Rather than share with you a list of resolutions that I will either complete within the week or abandon by late April for my "birthday resolutions" (which I absolutely do. I love resolutions.) I am going to look back at 2010 and share a few best of moments. Taking time to look through a new viewpoint is one of my favorite things to do when thinking about the last year. I'm kind of an old fashioned girl, I like history, I love nostalgia, I love remembering things, even if they just happened. Here is a little who, what, when, where and why about my perspective of 2010:

Who: I am tenacious. I learned that this year. I used to call that trait by a number a different names: obnoxious, stubborn, willful, uncompromising. One day, I looked at it from a different angle and called it tenacity, and suddenly the trait found a new purpose. There is a line and I occasionally cross it, but if I was afraid of the other edge of tenacity, there are a few things I would have completely missed out on this year. Things I love, like my job and learning to cook new foods, and that would be so sad. Is it good to recognize faults in ourselves? Sure. It is better, however, to look again and see how a fault can be crafted into a talent or a grace. Turn your attention and effort towards honing those skills, and the original fault will start to resemble the unpolished version of your newly discovered virtue-- that's all it ever was in the first place.

What: I like to think I have a pretty good memory, but in all honesty, I'm finding I need to write down more than I used to. Here are a few things I discovered in 2010 and most want to remember.

Nothing slows me down like watching sets of waves roll in. Nothing.
I like to show people I love them by cooking for them. I guess I think the way to everyone's heart is through their stomach.
I love hot air balloons, so much so that I woke up at 6 am every morning to watch them this summer. I love them. I'm like a kid. I'm not embarrassed.
SUFJAN STEVENS.

When: One evening I sat on the steps that led to the beach while on vacation at the Oregon Coast. I just sat and watched the waves until it was too dark to see the ocean (and too dark to see the raccoon lurking in the bushes-but that is another story). There was no beautiful sunset, there wasn't even much conversation. There was, however, a misty grey fog hanging over a steel blue ocean, and the air was salty and damp. I sat there while my aunts and uncles talked about heart health, my cousins made up jokes and talked about vacations when we were younger, and my dad laughed just a little too loud. I still don't totally know what I felt at that moment, I can't really name it one thing or another. Even though I don't know the emotion I was feeling, I could see, smell, hear, touch and taste the moment. I could completely drink it all in.

Where: Traveling undeniably changes one's perspective. I think I have always assumed that the change in geography was enough to do that. Now, I think that you don't necessarily need to change location to have a totally new experience. Tyler and I started the year out with a weekend in Portland visiting friends and attending the Dogs in School art show. This weekend was so random because while Tyler and I went to the same city and the same art show, we were on totally different vacations. I stayed with my friend, Sarah, while he stayed with his brother. Sarah and I went to a show at the Doug Fir, the boys went to the Kennedy school. Sarah and I went to an office party in an old macaroni factory, and the boys caught up with old roommates and friends around the kitchen table. It was the perfect example of why travel is so exciting. You truly can visit the same place 1000 different ways. We returned to Portland later in the year with my whole family for our annual reunion and vacation (as you read above). We stayed out at the coast for about a week in a lovely beach house and then spent four days back in the city. That vacation was completely different from our "two vacations" earlier that year. Portland was a many faceted jewel for me in 2010.

Why: The year of the Rabbit (!) has some 20/20 vision on 2010. Here are 11 things that 2011 is definitely going to be filled with if I have anything to do about it:

New travels.
New foods.
Waves.
Hot air balloons.
Concerts.
A little style (with a lot of help from Common Couture).
Writing.
Baking (fingers crossed!).
Good books.
Dinner parties. Lots and lots of dinner parties.
My wonderful family and friends who always offer new perspective.

A choice courtship

2010-11-21T22:38:00.003-07:00

If you've read more than a couple of posts on this blog, you may have noticed I love to cook. But the real deep-seated love belongs to food. I love food. I know what you're thinking, who doesn't love food? I promise, I won't toss out the F word- foodie. But, to be cliche and honest, I'm bananas about food. I have the great fortune of working a job that allows me to spend all day long thinking, researching, reading, writing, tasting and steeping in all things food. Isn't it great that as humans we have the opportunity to enjoy the something that fuels our bodies several times a day? It's brilliant.

Unfortunately, it is clear that not everyone shares this same regard for food. Which is actually quite strange because it is such a basic element in daily life. A walk through the local grocery store features end cap displays of food-like substances (to borrow words from Michael Pollan), solving the "problem" of cooking. Scanning a magazine or newspaper highlights the newest diet trend that vilifies a single food group, and encourages people to avoid it at all costs. To which I say, boo. There is no bad or good food in its own right. There is however, a good or bad relationship to food.

A good relationship with food goes beyond simply liking the food on your fork. It is an appreciation of the role food plays in our lives and the grand scheme of life overall. Food tells of a place, a history, a farmer, an animal, an environment. The more disconnected we are from our food the more likely we are to forget the central role it plays in many areas of culture and in our world.

I am going to begin sharing the juicy details of my little love affair with food with each upcoming post. I get it, we're busy. This is America after all. However, I really do believe that a healthy connection to our food is needed now more than ever. It isn't too late too shift our paradigm from food-as-fuel to food-as-fancy and affect some broken systems for the better as we do so. Bon appetit!

**UPDATE
After publishing this post, I came across this article, "What Food Says About Class in America" by Lisa Miller at Newsweek.com and found the following paragraph exemplifies exactly what I mentioned in the post:

"Claude Fischler, a French sociologist, believes that Americans can fight both obesity and food insecurity by being more, well, like the French. Americans take an approach to food and eating that is unlike any other people in history. For one thing, we regard food primarily as (good or bad) nutrition. When asked “What is eating well?” Americans generally answer in the language of daily allowances: they talk about calories and carbs, fats, and sugars. They don’t see eating as a social activity, and they don’t see food—as it has been seen for millennia—as a shared resource, like a loaf of bread passed around the table. When asked “What is eating well?” the French inevitably answer in terms of “conviviality”: togetherness, intimacy, and good tastes unfolding in a predictable way."

This is a great read and illustrates the parallels of food in our culture. I definitely recommend taking a few minutes to read it, especially as we head into Thanksgiving week.

Savory Oatmeal

2010-11-14T11:07:00.000-07:00

The following recipe was inspired by a conversation with my boss about wether or not it's ok to have risotto for breakfast (the answer is of course, yes). It got me thinking about what breakfast risotto would be like, and bam, savory oatmeal was born!

On the stove:
1 garlic clove, minced
1/2 small onion or shallot, diced
1/2 small green pepper, coarsely chopped
1 cup quick cooking rolled oats
2 cups water
1 or 2 eggs
Shaved cheddar
salt and pepper to taste
1 Tbsp olive oil

Saute the garlic, onion, and green pepper in the olive oil in the bottom of a medium sauce pan, for about 5 minutes or until onion is translucent.
Add 2 cups of water to the pot and bring to a boil, add oats, reduce heat and cook 1-5 minutes. Stir occasionally to prevent from sticking. I like to wait until most of the excess water is cooked into the oats.
While the oats are cooking, cook one or two eggs however you like them and serve over the oatmeal.
Top with cheese and salt and pepper to taste.

Microwave:

Prepare instant plan oats according to package.
Mix in sauteed vegetables, top with eggs and season.

Voila! Breakfast "risotto."

Bright Idea: A Fall Dinner Party

2010-10-31T14:51:00.003-06:00

Like many current trends, I am heavily influenced by the AMC TV series Mad Men. It's not only one of the single best things on TV at the moment, it's causing this retrospective (zing!) transformation on pop-culture lately. From fashion to home design to etiquette, this show is reviving the 1960's- and I'm totally falling for it. Head over heels.

After watching Joan describe to her husband how Emily Post says to set a table ("You'll be at the head, and I am at the other end and it's boy-girl-boy-girl...I won't have your boss's wife thinking your wife doesn't know how to set a table.") I realized I desperately wanted to master the art of a dinner party. Hospitality is a synonym for love in my book.

However, dinner parties are relatively hard on the wallet and I don't have a kitchen large enough to accommodate the task of cooking for more than a few (read: 1.5) people at once. How would I host a gathering of my closest friends?

While discussing the dilemma of wanting to throw a celebration of food and friends without independent wealth and a chef's kitchen, my friend Sarah had a brilliant idea. Why not share the load and thus share the fun? Suddenly, despite budgets, we had something in the works. In the words of Betty Draper, "Only boring people are bored."

The plan:

Find a menu that featured the flavors of fall and a wine pairing guide.
Invite foodie friends to select their course and commit to two bottles of wine to compliment their meal.
Secure a location and a date for the party.

The Menu (adapted from The Girl and the Fig cookbook):

Goat cheese stuffed figs with Gin martinis.
Artisan cheese course.
Heirloom tomato salad.
Chicken breasts with tarragon mustard sauce and Haricots vert.
Rosemary creme brulee.

The Scene:

Cocktail dress attire.
Frank Sinatra on vinyl.
Candles, cloth napkins and harvest themed centerpieces.

The Outcome:

One of my favorite nights to date

This night was an amazing success. I knew my friends loved to celebrate, but I did not realize how much. The night began with cocktails on the patio under a brightly festooned tree. Prom-style photos inevitably took place. But when you have so many beautiful people buffed-up and camera ready in one place, you really have no choice but to document it.

We dined for hours, with each course presented by the couple who prepared it. We wined as well, no glass was left empty-- though the frequency of refills varied per person. We toasted to the things we wanted to celebrate in each other, and we roasted the things that were 'ripe for parody.'

The pocketbook does not need to be deep for one to live richly.

Get Well Sooner

2010-09-25T17:05:00.002-06:00

In Colorado, September kicked off with a few rough weeks. The Fourmile fire, that began in the hills just to the west of Boulder, ended up being the costliest and most destructive fire in the state's history. After a number of smaller-sized flare ups throughout the foothills and high temperatures keeping the landscape a dry tinderbox, the community was beyond ready for fall to come around and begin cooling things off.

This past week brought us the first official day of fall, a few days of cooler temperatures and a even a couple of desperately needed rain-showers. However, as changing seasons often do, it also brought along an irritating cold. Now, don't get me wrong, I enjoy any excuse to watch SNL marathons on VH1- and believe me, I really do. However, sinus headaches really throw a kink in the plans.

Cue: Tyler's chicken, jalapeno and lime soup.

Ingredients:

2 cloves garlic, ¼-inch dice

2 tbsps olive oil

1 medium yellow onion, chopped

4 jalapenos, chopped and seeded (leave seeds to taste, more seeds mean more spice)

1 qt. chicken broth

4oz chicken breast, cubed

1 tomato, seeded and julienned

1/4 cup lime juice

cilantro to garnish

2 avocados, cubed

Directions:

Sauté the garlic in about 2 tbsps olive oil (about two swirls around an 6-qt stock pot) until lightly browned and slightly softened.
Add chopped onions and jalapenos and continue sauté until softened.Add chicken, chicken broth, lime juice and the tomato. Bring soup to a boil, then reduce to medium-low heat and let simmer for 15 minutes.
A few minutes before serving, add chopped cilantro to the soup. Ladle soup into bowls and top with avocado. Salt and pepper, to taste.

The soup is supposed to be super spicy, but you can control the heat by seeding the jalapenos or topping the soup with sour cream. When one of us is feeling a cold come on this soup never lets us down.

We paired the soup with Mesta Temparanillo table wine from Spain. It is the the September red of the month at The Boulder Wine Merchant- which is always, always, always a great buy. I would love to say that the red wine did something scientific to benefit my cold, but the truth is, I just love this wine with spicy food because the bouquet of flavors stands up to spice really well. Thank you, Spain, for this wine win.

Finally, and this is not a typical addition to a meal for me, I enjoyed a pour of bourbon after dinner. I attribute this bit of homeopathic knowledge to my Great-Grandmother, who strongly believes the answer to a sore throat or a cough comes in the form of a hot toddy. I am coming around to this logic, as I much prefer a pour of a drinkable alcohol I know the name of to a cherry-flavored alcohol syrup goo that I can barely choke down (I'm looking at you, Vick's).

Not being a huge fan of whiskey (unlike my bourbon-collecting husband), I have to say that Dead Guy Whiskey, from Rogue Ales out of Newport, Oregon, is delicate enough to sip while powerful enough to, dare I say, give your immune system just the right amount of liquid-courage to knock out a cold.

"HONORING UNIQUE ROGUES WHOSE SPIRIT

LINGERS LONG PAST THEIR MORTAL EXISTENCE"

Eat, drink and be well!

Jazzy iced coffee

2010-09-11T16:35:00.002-06:00

I had a recent conversation with a friend, wherein she told me that hanging out with me had led to her drinking coffee in the afternoon. After making sure that wasn't a euphemism for me being boring, I told her "you're welcome." As far as I'm concerned, an increase in coffee consumption is a good thing, so long as you are savoring and enjoying this ancient beverage. Oh, I just love coffee.

More than loving coffee, I love really carefully crafted coffee. Artisan coffees have caught a bad rep over the years, in large part due to an unwieldy purveyor who has doused coffee in a slew of syrups and whipped cream and calling it gourmet. This is a bad rep that artisan coffee does not deserve. A well-crafted cup of coffee reflects the thirsty work of a farmer, a roaster, a buyer and a barista who all love to understand the complex nature of a simple bean. A good cup of coffee offers a sense of place, a story of cultivation and careful preparation and is a reliable friend on an early morning. Oh, I really love coffee.

It was at a Blue Bottle kiosk at the Ferry Building farmers market that I first tried a New Orleans iced coffee, and people, it was worth the absurdly long line I waited in. Cold brewed coffee with chicory, milk and simple syrup- safe to say it is a joie de vivre. I was already suspicious that the baristas at Blue Bottle were apron-clad undercover angels, and when I discovered a recipe card for the NOLA coffee on my way out the door, I my suspicions were confirmed. Prep some of the coffee concentrate and keep it in the fridge for up to 5 days to really enjoy these last warm days.

New Orleans Iced Coffee adapted from Blue Bottle Coffee Co.

(we have had the worst time finding chicory in Boulder, so we have opted for the Cafe Du Monde coffee and chicory blend, and it has been a great runner runner up to the Blue Bottle version)

Prepare concentrate in a large enameled cast-iron stock pot with a lid.

Add a full can of Cafe Du Monde Coffee and Chicory to the stock pot. Cover coffee with 2.5 quarts of cold water. Stir, cover, and let steep at room temp for about 8-12 hours (overnight is perfect).

Strain the concentrate through a fine-mesh strainer. You can line a strainer with a large coffee filter or cheese cloth to catch as much sediment as possible. This will look like used motor oil and should yield about 4-5 cups. Mmmm motor oil.

To make the simple syrup, combine 3 oz. sugar with 2/3 cup of water over low heat, stirring until dissolved. Agave is a good substitute for simple syrup, just use to taste since it's a little sweeter than sugar.

To serve, pour 3 oz. of coffee concentrate into a tall pint glass. Stir in a splash of simple syrup and top with low-fat milk. Add in one or two ice cubes. Put Louis Armstrong on the turntable and spend your coffee break in the French Quarter.

A Labor Day meal of epic proPORKtion

2010-09-05T11:49:00.004-06:00

It deeply saddens me to say goodbye to the summer, which I suppose is a testament to how great this summer was to me, but shush babe-I hate goodbyes. In order to soften the blow a little, I planned a special end-of-summer meal that we carted over to the park and grilled out on the picnic table. Everything's just a little bit more enjoyable over a good meal.

This meal in particular was a stretch for me because I made (pause for dramatic effect) pork chops. Yes, as in swine. I cooked it. I ate it. I even liked it. This is significant as I've had it out against pork since I was about 8 years old. I have a distinct memory, which I'll spare you the details of, where it ended in me declaring to the world: "I'll never eat pig again!" And I didn't. I ate Kosher. When I didn't eat Kosher I told people that I thought the animals were too cute to be food (lie). I had a bevy of reasons I wouldn't eat it, and for about 16 solid years I stuck to my guns. I saw no pork. I cooked no pork. I ate no pork.

Sadly, Mr. LovelySplendid totally digs on swine and has long bargained with me and requested I branch out. That I please give pork a chance. Happy Labor Day to him.

As I was planning out the meals for the week I came across this absolutely lovely farm stand on Valmont and 75th called Munson Farm. (Which you have to visit if you are local, because it's totally awesome.) They were selling local peaches the size of softballs and the freshest ears of corn I've ever seen in real life. Once I loaded up on my side, all I needed was a good meat to round out a delicious summer meal. Well, lucky Mister, pork chops were on sale and I was feeling courageous.

Pork Chops with blue cheese, grilled peaches and corn on the cob (recipe for 2)

This recipe was not only delicious but also easy to tote over to the park for a picnic. Add 5 bonus points.

You'll need:

2 pork chops; we opted for smaller sized chops for the budget and my deep-seated fear of hating this dinner.

Roughly 3 tbsps Stoneground or dijon mustard (you can eyeball this)

2 cups water

salt and pepper to taste

Blue cheese to taste; I liked the Salemville Amish cows milk version, which is sold by the wedge at Whole Foods Market.

2 ears of corn

1 giant peach (a la James)

1. Rinse the pork chops under cool water and set aside. In a large bag, combine the mustard, water, salt and pepper. Once you have your desired consistency and flavor for your brine*, place the pork chops in the bag and seal. Place in fridge for 2-4 hours to chill and allow the flavors to fully marry. Place the bag in a baking pan in case the zipper lock gives way- unless, of course, you like to live dangerously.

*Many people add an apple cider to their brine, but I wanted to keep it savory since we were going to be pairing the meat with peaches.

2. Heat up a greased grill to a medium heat. Place the pork chops on the grill and cook thoroughly, flipping as needed.

3. While pork chops are cooking, place ears of corn still in husks directly on the grill. Cook for about 20-30 minutes, or until corn is fully cooked but still crisp in texture. To eat, pull back husks and use them as a handle. (add 5 kitsch points)

4. If you have additional room on the grill, slice peaches in half and place flesh-down the the grill. Cook these to your desired consistency. I found a good indicator for me was the temperature of the skin. Once the skin began to feel warm to the touch and there were visible grill marks on the flesh of the peach I pulled them off the heat. You can experiment with this one, but probably want to stray away from over cooking since it makes the texture really stringy and saps much of the flavor.

5. About 5-10 minutes before pulling the pork chops off of the grill crumble the blue cheese over the meat so that it begins to soften and melt but is not runny or liquid in texture.

Arrange these items on your plate and pair with your favorite summer beer or wine. Follow it up with a great conversation with your friends or a Lady GaGa sunset dance party. Your choice.

Monday's redemption: Moules Frites at Mateo

2010-08-28T12:00:00.001-06:00

It goes without saying; Mondays are rough whether you're in kindergarten or a senior executive. Who likes leaving Sunday Funday behind to wake up early and dive right back into the workweek? No one does. Trust me, we all understand "Monday SUX!!"- No need to reiterate with a weekly status update. Now, what are we going to do about it?

I don't know what you're doing, but I'm going to Mateo. More specifically, I'm going to Mussels Monday at Mateo.

Mateo is a French Provençal restaurant in Boulder and deserves much more buzz and airplay than it currently gets. Or at least, more than I've heard. I always feel a little bit fancy (the perfect amount) and totally comfortable at this restaurant. They have struck a wonderful balance between a sumptuous dining experience and down-to-earth French country ambience.

Add to that list, the happy hour, or après, menu which reads like an anthology of French culinary classics. My personal favorites are the house rose, the artisan cheese plate, pommes frites and mussels (moules). I have a total food-crush on this restaurant, and it doesn't hurt that both times we've eaten there people were speaking in French at the table next to us. That's a twofer of lovely splendid-ness.

At this point, you are thinking, "What does this have to do with Mondays?" Well, dear friend, Mondays are Moules Frites night, which means a pot of mussels and a bag of their house frites with sea salt all for six tiny dollars. You can order two glasses of wine, a gourmet cheese plate, moules frites, make a date of it, and honor the beloved budget. That's checkmate, Monday.

Where I've Been...

2010-08-06T09:51:00.001-06:00

Oh, how I've missed this. I have been busy beyond belief between job-seeking, interning, moving, freelancing, vacationing, and budgeting. Before I realized it, nearly four months had passed since I signed in and blogged about something lovely or something splendid. Why is this so sad? Because so many lovely and splendid things have been happening and I haven't been sharing. I know I've said it before, but I'm back. Back to share, back to write, back to blogging, baby.

Now here is my visual post on things I fell in love with on vacation in Oregon.

FOOD FRIDAY: The One where I plug my favorite brands

2010-04-09T20:41:00.002-06:00

Hey there friends,

Back again for a Food Friday. I am working on a few other weekly posts outside of Friday posts that hopefully should crop up in the next few weeks as they are fine-tuned, but until then, I am going to post another favorite food experience and hope that you enjoy.

This week the Hub and I made it to the Boulder County Farmers' Market (the first of this year) and scored some great food finds. The most lovely of these finds, I must say, are the fresh eggs from Abbondanza Farms. They were a bit pricier than the eggs you find at the grocery store, but they were MUCH fresher and as such, they were tastier. I think my favorite thing about the fresh eggs was the fact that they were blue, brown and white - no need to add colors over this Easter weekend.

In addition to our delectable eggs, we discovered that Udi's makes a sourdough that echos the sourdoughs of San Francisco (my home and native land?) and some funky Tomato and Cracked Pepper pappardelle pasta from Denver's own Peppardelle's Pasta. These were the inspiration for this week's best meal.

Enter: Creamy Zucchini and Herb Pappardelle Pasta (a Lovely Splendid Original)

Ingredients:

2 medium zucchini, cut into thin half moons

2 cloves fresh garlic, minced

2-3 tbs olive oil

5 oz. goat cheese

1/2 lb Tomato and Cracked Pepper pappardelle

a couple sprigs of dill, basil, and parsley (fresh makes this dish a spring-y pasta)

salt and pepper to taste

To start, boil a large pot full of salted water. In a skillet, heat up the olive oil over medium heat. Add the zucchini and garlic to saute until the zucchini is tender, and garlic is fragrant. Cook by sight and smell, and just don't let the garlic burn. If the zucchini starts to brown, it is really tasty, but the pan might be too hot for the garlic. (If you have onion, or shallot, that would be a good addition to the veggie saute). When cooked, cover the zucchini and remove from heat.

Once the water is at a good rolling boil, add the pasta. We broke our pasta in half, so that it would cook more evenly, but you'll need to follow your heart on this one. The pasta cooked for about 6-7 minutes, but be sure to give it a taste test to make sure it is al dente (bite it, if it's too chewy, or still opaque in the middle, give it a few more minutes- don't burn your tongue, as you will need it to taste your creation). Drain all but 1 cup of the water from the pasta, and return the cooked pasta to the pot.

Slowly add the goat cheese (in chunks) to the pasta and reserved pasta water, stirring to make sure the cheese melts evenly over the pasta. When the cheese begins to look like a creamy alfredo-like sauce you can add the veggies. Mix in the chopped fresh herbs to the garlic and zucchini while still in the skillet. When that looks evenly incorporated, add the veggies to the cheese and pasta in the pot. Toss the veggies and the pasta until thoroughly coated, and serve with a crusty (SOURDOUGH!) bread.

This pasta was a great perk for our mid-week. Being in Colorado, the weather really toys with your emotions. It's sunny, but the wind is blowing 90 mph. It's 60, but it's snowing. The pasta was the perfect dinner to remind us that spring is coming up soon, and the fresh flavors were so different than our standby winter nosh. I don't mean to toot my own horn, but y'all, I Hank Aaron'd this dish right out of the park. My husband thinks I'm a culinary genius. I'm not, but I'll definitely wear that title around the house (like Crocs, or a bathrobe).

To complete the meal, I had a glass of Cupcake wine's Dry Riesling, which is really worth a shot. I'm generally a Sauv Blanc drinker, and Riesling is reserved for bridal showers or mid-July (due to the sweetness). However, the dryness of this wine really balanced the typical sweet flavor, and was a great pairing with the herbs and vegetables of this dish.

Finally, I know I mentioned the Udi's sourdough already, but it is worth another plug. My family hails from San Fran and the bay area, the motherland of sourdough bread (Boudin bread bowl anyone?) and I find I can be rather judgmental of any bread that tries to call itself sourdough. Though nothing can quite capture the pure joy of some sourdough, dry salami, and red wine while taking in the salty air of Chrissy Field, this loaf reminds me of how much I love it. Udi's. Write that down.

Happy eating friends!

*Remember, it's April, that means the farmers will be out there tomorrow. Will you?

FOOD FRIDAY: R.W. Knudsen Just Pomegranate

2010-04-03T00:11:00.008-06:00

This food friday is actually a beverage friday post, but there isn't a day that begins with "B" and we're working with what we have. The bev comes from a fruit, which is a food, so there ya go!

This week I was introduced to the R.W. Knudsen Just Juice line, and I'm currently exploring the many possibilities these juices have. The Just Juice is a stand out product among other juices as it is, you guessed it, just juice from the fruit labeled (meaning, no white grape or apple juice "filler"). I picked up the pomegranate juice, as I am so fond of those seedy little guys, and have been experimenting with various combos and creative uses for a 100% fruit, unsweetened, juice.

The quality of the juice that stands out most, is that it is very concentrated as far as flavor is concerned. It is essentially the Liberace to your Elton John, the Burgundy to your mauve, the Martha Stuart to your Susie Homemaker. This juice, my friends, is very serious. Therefore, my wimpy taste buds have requested I try a few pairings for this bold flavor.

My house mate added roughly a teaspoon to plain yogurt to liven it up. I think this was absolutely brilliant as many of the flavored yogurt cups pack a calorie load upwards of 200 kcals per serving. The juice adds natural sweetness and flavor with out the empty calories.

It needs to be said that the juice itself is really quite good on its own, but has a distinct tartness that is a taste to acquire. I would love to post more on the topic, but my mac book is suddenly not supporting the internet for more than 30 seconds at a time-which is not so awesome. Perhaps I'll be buying a PC in the near future. I digress.

Any Just Juice drinkers out there? How do you drink your Just Juice? I'd love your input.

Is this real life?

2010-03-25T15:39:00.001-06:00

Hey there friends. I have not forgotten you. I have nearly forgotten my own name, but not you. Never.

This past week and a half I have had all of the following happen:

ended time at my former job, and economy special
interviewed for an internship for my dream agency
offered internship (score!)
contacted for a freelance project for a company I really like
not one but 2 blizzards
started seeds for my first ever garden
talked to my dad who is in Dubai
and enjoying the gap in time between jobs.

Whew. I'm loving it! I am going to be back tomorrow with food friday, and that's a promise.

Have a Lovely Splendid Thursday friends.

Food Friday: beets, pasta, and the surprise goodness of the two

2010-03-12T13:37:00.000-07:00

For my first Food Friday post, I am sharing my newest recipe that I am kind of in a shock over loving as much as I do. In our efforts to eat sustainably, my husband and I joined a local food delivery service called Door to Door Organics. They are in partnership with a number of local farmers, and basically allow you to have the highlights of a CSA (fresh, local, organic, and safe food) without the drawbacks of only having it part of the year, or having too much food to know what to do. We have been having our produce delievered for the last month, and it is one of the best choices we've made food-wise in a very long time. We love it so much we have passed on the info to quite a few of our friends, and they are all on "OMG I <3 D2D" highs too. Seriously, if they are in your area, check them out.

One of the more unexpected benefits of signing up for this service, besides saving money on produce, is the fact that we are expanding our palates each week. There are a lot of veggies that I have not tried before simply because I would stand in the produce section at the grocery store and intimidate myself from even touching the veggies. I'd look an eggplant and tell it, "You're really beautiful, you are. That isn't the issue with us. I'm just afraid I'm going to commit to you and not treat you like you deserve. Someone, someday, is going to come along and know how to treat you right. It's not you, it's me."

However, since getting our produce delivered we have tried Eggplant Pizza with mint and feta (great success), Winter Squash (acorn and butternut) soup with carrots and figs (lovely), and Beet and Spinach pasta.

Last week, we opened our box of produce the day it was delivered and began to plan our meals for the week. As I noticed the beets I felt the corners of my mouth turn downward and I didn't even know what to tell these poor beets- they weren't even beautiful like the eggplant. How could I break up with them here, like this, after they had come so far? Where would they go? That's when I knew, we had no choice but to try them, the poor ugly roots, they needed us to come through. I bribed my husband with the promise of ordering pizza if this meal was in fact a complete disaster, and set out to find any beet recipe that didn't initiate a gag reflex.

Lovely people, meet my newest, and might I add prettiest, pasta recipe:
Penne with Beets, Spinach, and Goat Cheese (Adapted From Simply Organic**)

2 bunches med beets (we just used three beets)

1/4 cup olive oil

1 med onion thinly sliced

3 tbsps balsamic vinegar

2 tbsps oregano

2 tbsps chopped fresh rosemary

1 pound whole wheat penne

salt & pepper

6 oz soft goat cheese

3 oz parmesan

1 bunch spinach (we used this instead of the beet greens on the top of the beet)

Cut the greens off the beets and compost them. Trim the tops and bottoms of the beets and put the beets in a large pot and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Cook for 20 minutes to 1 hour or until the beets are cooked. I learned that beets, like potatoes, are done when they can be pierced with your fork with little resistance. When done, remove and run under cold water, using your hands to gently pull off the skins. Cut the beets into bite sized wedges and set aside.

While the beets are cooking, wash the spinach and chop coarsely - I like how a chiffonade looks, but any form of chopped spinach would work. Bring another pot of water to boil for the pasta.

In a large pan or skillet, over med heat, warm the olive oil (we only used a little in the pan, so I don't know if you need then whole 1/4 c.) and add the onion and garlic. Cook stirring occasionally, for 5 mins or until soft soft and a little carmelized.

Add the vinegar, oregano, and rosemary and cook for 1 min, stirring to break up any brown bits. Cook the penne and then add the spinach during the last 1 min or so of cooking. Drain the pasta and spinach, reserving 1/2 cup of the cooking water and return the pasta to the pot.

Add the beets to the onion mixture; season with salt and pepper to taste.
Mix in the cheese, reserved pasta water, pasta, and onion/beet mixture then sprinkle with some of the parm.

We went from two people who have scrunched our noses at beets since age 7 to two people who can't stop raving about them. "OMG, did you know beets are sooo tasty guys?!....Did I tell you about the beet pasta I made? I used BEETS! And LIKED IT!"

**This book is incredible, some of the very best recipes I have ever tried. It's such a great resource for eating seasonally and locally. One of my proudest purchases!

NEW BLOG FEATURE: Food Fridays!

2010-03-12T10:47:00.001-07:00

I have been doing as much research as I can about blogs that people actually enjoy reading and comparing it to what I really love to write about. FOOD made the list as highly enjoyable material to both read and write about. Win win....win.

As a big fan of FOOD, both the cooking and consumption of it, I am going to commit to doing a Food Friday post each week outlining a favorite food experience. It will either be a recipe that I am swooning over, a delicious meal out that made me want to sing, or a tidbit of info regarding my efforts to eat sustainable and affordable food (so that it can be sustainable and affordable for everyone).

(As you might have noticed, I am revving up the blog so stay tuned for upcoming blog fixtures like this one.)

Clouds, Lists and Catalysts ( as well as a question for where you want to read this blog)

2010-03-12T09:44:00.000-07:00

I have been exploring the Tumblr blogging platform this past week and have set up a lovelysplendid.tumblr.com. I love blogging, but I enjoy it doubly when I have comments from readers. I am curious about where you'd most want to read this blog. Here on blogspot or there on Tumblr? Let me know in the comments section, because I'm most interested in staying connected with you people. Pretty blogs can come and go, but it's the people who stick around and read it that make it worth it!

Here is a blog post from the tumblr site:

I am a dreamer for sure. I am not about to deny that. I'll also admit that sometimes my dreams are so wild and so out there that it isn't very likely that I can get started on them in a reasonable fashion. I am a head in the clouds kind of girl I guess.
I am also stubborn. Stubborn and usually in overdrive.
Contrasting with my daydream-y, ice cream, fluffy perspectives, I have found that writing something down increases my chances of doing it. Let's go ahead and use the term tenfold in regards to my chances of follow through when I write it out on the internet. Chalk it up to me caring what others think about me. Chalk it up to the incredible powers of the internet. Chalk it up with sidewalk chalk if you want. I don't know why this is true, but it is and it works, so I'm going with it.
If you check out the My CataLIST link on the top of this blog you'll see my list of things I must do. It's the catalyst to making my daydreams into memories and blog posts. I want to see lovely things, do lovely things, meet lovely people. I believe doing everything on that list will be a good use of my time and talents. Also, a splendid use of this blog space, don't you think?

This is a new direction (read:there is now an actual direction) for my blog, and consequently, for my free time. I am going to try to do as many things on my list as I can and then I'm going to bring it here and tell you all about it. I want to eat, cook, travel, and live my life the best ways possible. After all, I might have two blogs, but I only get one life. Ah yes, that was deep.
Here is where I need your help: I want my list to be a bit longer than it is now, and I'm having a loss for ideas. What should I do? What have you done that you have loved and will never forget? What crazy thing is just too crazy for you to do yourself, but you'd like to hear about someone else who's done it? Fill the comment section with your list ideas folks. Ready? Go!

A public rant on Birth Control, a "blogged it out to spare the masses" kind of post

2010-03-01T12:07:00.005-07:00

It sometimes amazes me the criticism I get when people hear what type of birth control method I use. It ranges anywhere from "oh, you're trying?" to "Ah, the cross-your-fingers method, I see." As if anyone has any place to ask, let alone comment on such a personal thing. However, that isn't even what bothers me the most. What gets to me is the lack of information out about women and fertility, and the pop-science that so many ascribe to. The reality is that women are still being severely judged for the type of contraception they use, and blamed for unexpected pregnancy. We have not come quite the long way we had thought, baby.

I use a natural method of birth control, where I monitor my body's symptoms on a daily basis and use barrier methods when fertile. I have done this for 2 years now (knock on wood) and with discipline and organization, I have been child-free this whole time. This wasn't my first method of choice, but now there is no way I will go back to any pill. You couldn't pay me.

The reason is three-fold: one, it isn't necessary; two, it may turn you into a freak of nature; three, it's not always a very safe option (read as: class action lawsuits).

It isn't necessary: Women ovulate one day a month, and that means they are fertile the day before, the day of, and the day after. Doing the math, 3 of 30, we are fertile 1/10 of the month. Men, on the other hand, are fertile everyday. Everyday. 30 of 30. 10/10. It is in fact the fertility of men that makes the window of conception a little longer. Since sperm can live up to 5 days in the right "environment," the fertile time period is extended to about 10days in total. About 5 days before ovulation and 5 days after. I love men, I love my husband, but the simple science here is that it is on you, guys. It's on you. Am I going to take a pill 365 days a year to cover for my 36 days of fertility? Nope. You go on ahead. Thankfully there are options that don't require over-medicating one of your partners.

It may turn you into a freak of nature: The side effects of the pill suck. My personal experience was that the pill made me the angriest, most weepy little flower on the block. I was getting mad at the laundry and thought my professor wanted to fail me because I hated horror films. My brain was undergoing massive horse hormone therapy treatments everyday so that I could assure everyone that "we're waiting" "I'm just too irresponsible to be a mother, so we're being responsible with the pill." I'm sorry, please tell me what is responsible about subjecting yourself to a list of side effects that reads like an obituary?

Please read and observe this side effect sheet for me: (Borrowed directly from the Yaz website) "OCs can be associated with an increased risk of several serious cardiovascular side effects, including blood clots, stroke, and heart attack...leukorrhea, diarrhea, vomiting, vaginitis, flu syndrome, moniliasis, allergic reaction, cystitis, tooth disorder, sore throat, infection, fever, surgery, back pain, migraine, dyspepsia, rhinitis, acne, gastroenteritis, bronchitis, pharyngitis, skin disorder, intermenstrual bleeding, decreased libido, pain, increased cough, dizziness, pain in extremity, and pelvic pain."

How liberating. What is better is the outright rejection of the male birth control pill. Most men prefer to use another form or even risk the pregnancy. I once read an article about this where a man basically said the following: “I would rather rely on a solution that doesn’t involving medicating myself and the problems women have had with hormone therapy doesn’t make me eager to want to sign on to taking a hormone-type therapy.” Lastly, I would be remiss if I don't mention that I suspected the pill worked purely by inducing celibacy. Just saying.

Recap: the round the clock fertile male prefers not to take a pill with lesser side effects. So the default responsibility falls on the woman, obviously, since she is fertile 10% of the time. Leukorrhea anyone?

Finally, it is still dangerous. Hormone therapy is still developing as a science, and carries a high risk with it. As a 23 year old woman with little to no health problems, aside from the occasional cold, I don't think I am willing to submit myself to hormone therapies likely to lead to more problems than I had ever dreamed of. However, a lot of women do submit to it, thinking it is their only option. When issues like the Yaz pill lawsuit arise it feels just a little too late. Women have DVT, pancreatic cancer, and I know a woman who had to have her gall bladder out, to take the pill. It just isn't always a great option.

In a time where we have established women as an equal players on so many levels, why is the pill the standard form of birth control? Why are women who opt out ridiculed? Why does the school nurse talk to teenage girls about the pill but not about the intricacies of her cycle? This is a major point of frustration for me.

All that said, I was conceived on the pill. So, "most effective form" that.

Soap Box Done. For now.

Creative Mindercising and Getting Arty

2010-02-26T09:29:00.004-07:00

Lately I have been hopped up on the ideas of art and creativity and the way that they advance culture. Now, some Boulderites are going to pull out their hair, stomp their feet, and possibly spit on the ground when they hear me say these next words: Boulder creativity is rather stale. I mean, broke in college, napping on the couch, see a Wheat Thin on the coffee table, bite it and chip your tooth. That stale.

Don't panic if you audibly hear something right now.That sound you are hearing is the collective gasp and a few shouts of "Heretic!" from the yuppie masses. You can hear them clearly because they are all out on the patios, listening to the ambient drone of String Cheese, Wide Spread Panic, or OAR. Drones of the jam band variety, occasionally peppered in with "Redemption Song." Oh Bob Marley, if only you had known your lyrics would be displayed on so many luxury SUVs.

I know there are creatives in this town who do art outside of political motivation; who play music that doesn't make me want to cry as middle aged men and woman ~~flail their arms and kick in spasms~~ dance on the Pearl St. bricks; who do not think that close up photography of columbines mixed with wild grasses are the highest form of art. While those things can be nice for a mountain town or hippie vibe, I think that there is much more to be explored. I think there are people who believe in art as a progress-or, and even occasionally the aggressor, when faced with ignorance or stagnant perspectives. I know that I do.

I'm going to start out on a creative mindercise regimen (because I'm not really a fitness writer, I tried, it ain't me babe). There are a number of exercises, creative espresso shots, and inspiration-based blogs and forums that I am going to draw from to spelunk the funk in my brain.I have invited a few others to do this with me on a Facebook group page at this link. We have completed our first project: Create a flier of a typical day and post it around your neighborhood (or post it in the photos section of the group). I have to say, for such a simple and potentially one-dimensional assignment, the creative approaches and streams of consciousness that my friends produced was inspiring. It solidified my theory that there can be a resuscitation of the arts in our community. I'm excited to see Boulder grow this into something, and then one day (oh please oh please!) Boulder can be known for something in addition to it's reputation as a liberal (add to that, mmj) mecca.

Check out some of the art postings from this week, and if you would like to join our group, welcome pal.

**I only put a couple up here, to see the rest, visit the Facebook Group page...it may become its own blog in the near future... stay tuned Lovely People, stay tuned.

No Regrets

2010-02-15T12:49:00.005-07:00

We've all been there. Standing in the parking lot, peering into our bag as if we expect something new to materialize. We ask ourselves "Do I need this? Do I really need this?" And for most of us we shake it off, close the bag, and walk the rest of the way to the car. Others of us allow the buyer's remorse to occur while standing in the produce section of the grocery store. We say to ourselves "I do love the butter lettuce, but dangit if that iceburg head isn't going to save me 39 cents. What will I tell my friends when they find out I buy fancy lettuce?!" I wish I was joking.

Walk across the parking lot from the grocery store to a Broomfield tattoo parlor, and you'll see what I did this Saturday. If I were able to title the event, it would be called "Valentines Day 2010: A Gift of Epic Awesomeness and General Badassery." It is the most literal title available for my day.

It began with an email from my friend that went a little something like this:
"So, I think I'm going to act on a impulse and get [name changed]'s initials with a heart tattooed on my butt for Valentines (no, I'm not joking). I'll probably do this tomorrow afternoon or Saturday.
This is not the kind of thing I want to do alone."

and a thread continued on to the tune of:

"Ohmyhahaha that is amazing. I will come hold you hand and laugh. At you."
"If it's less than 50....I could maybe be persuaded"
"I haven't quite convinced myself to actually go through with getting the tattoo. Listen, it's not because it's against my religion or anything I just think it might hurt my precious baby butt."
"guys I'm getting a real one. I'm getting an anchor because it looks like tyler's initials and more reasons. But i'm doing it because if I don't do it right now, I'll chicken out again. Sorry to go emo."

and finally:

"I am so excited about this I could not sleep last night. I am totally in to get the name on the ass. Should we make an appt. somewhere?"

Translation: 5 married women with either jobs or children or both tattooing names/initials in hearts, on cheeks, for a gift. Yes, David, this is real life.

After an eventful night of marriage curses, phone calls, and text messages from a ~~tattooist~~ man-child, we found our parlor, our price point, and our cover stories for our husbands for the afternoon. A decoy meet-up at Target, a little caffeine, some Michael (Jackson, if you have to ask) and we were ready to the dang thing.

Does this story get better? Oh yes, yes it does.

We get to the Big Easy (real name) and are greeted by Paul, who would be our artist for the day and would proceed to tattoo the initials of my friend's husbands on to my friend's individual tushers, as my younger brother calls it. One by one, each girl drew the heart and the initials (think of your high school notebook, but grown-up, very grown-up). Then we'd all giggle and coo around the chair our friend was laying in, effectively mooning each of us, and braid each others' hair to distract from the pain.There were a few comments of "At least it's not like a real tattoo," even though it most definitely was. It was the hipster version of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, or more like the Ya-ya Twisted Sister Hood. Holla Dee Snyder!

Once each of my friends were brandishing a hilariously wonderful Valentine's day gift on their ba-donks (it's amazing how many euphemisms I can think of for that body part), it was my turn. I brought over my little drawing, and rolled up my sleeve. Then, I braced for impact. I might have asked a few times "This isn't a boy's tattoo right? Because I don't want to look at a boy tattoo everyday." I learned, that even girls can be sailors. Frick.

The gift reveal was a success, and despite being 2 hours late for our fancy V-day party, everyone was really stoked on the day. It was one of the best Saturdays I've had. Even if I look at my arm when I'm 50, and say "what was I thinking?" I'll remember the day and lighten up, because I still can't believe how much fun it was. Also, if I don't think it's awesome when I'm fifty, someone needs to remind me that I used to be fun, and had really, and I mean really, great friends, and I need to relax.

About the buyer's remorse. Well, that was to be expected. And as you can see, it is on my wrist. My wrist that I see about 200 times a day. My wrist that I can get way too close to my face and stare at every imperfect pore, not to mention not so straight lines or asymmetrical anchors. I may go back and get it perfected, but I also may just leave it as is. A souvenir from a day I went out-with one day's notice- with friends to get a tattoo in honor of my hub, that will also always make me think of them.

Ahoy mateys!

A Winter Rant Turned Beauty Blog

2010-01-25T12:34:00.005-07:00

Hello lovlies and hi there splendids. I have to say sorry for my sporadic writing. I gave my blog a little kiss of death when I included it in a New Year's resolution. I mean, if you enjoy something giving it a deadline is kind of a fun-sucker. Fun-sucker aside, I have been kind of going through a bog of sorts lately. And I don't feel bogged down, oh no, I got to keep on moving. I just feel like the past week or two I have been slogging through some grimy mud, and my attitude is less snarky and more ~~bitchy~~ cynical. Bo-ring. However, thanks to a solid stretch of time with some truly fabulous women this weekend, I'm feeling fresher than The Situation.

As I have mentioned on my blog ( here, and here) this winter is really full of itself. This winter is embarrassing Al Gore. This winter makes me agree with Kenneth Parcell when he says "Global warming? Sorry, sir, that's just scientist talk." And yet, four months and 90 (gross) inches of snow later, we still have at least three months left of this windy, dry, dry, run. Everything is dry. Just look at this current picture of me, and you will get the idea. I am researching and compiling a list of necessary items to carry on.

Here is what I have found so far:

Hair Care- because it's too cold not to use a hair dryer.

It is hard to think about the tops of our heads when we think about moisturizing and skin care, but that's a whole lotta derm to ignore. Mix in hair styling products, blow dryers, and Colorado's climate, and whoo boy! If it were possible to use shea butter or jojoba oil directly in my hair, I would, but to my dismay (my utter delight) the emo look is finally going out. Luckily, I was recently told about Scalp Benefits shampoo from Aveda. It moisturizes and balances the pH of your scalp as well as the roots of your hair. In only a few uses, I can tell you this is my winter shampoo from here until I move to Hawaii -- which may very well be tomorrow. (I paired it with the Pure Abundance conditioner, so that I could still style my hair. Priorities friends.)
If your issue is hair damage due to the unfortunate fate that we face: going out in the cold with wet hair means you will be rocking a head of icy dreadlocks; then you should try a heat protecting product. Aveda Damage remedy has coconut oil and quinoa protein to restructure the straw-like strands that can appear this time of year (I used to love Therma-Silk, where for art thou?).

Skin Care - even alligator skin on shoes is heinous.

I have taken to a bi- or tri- weekly exfoliating routine, and it's really made a big difference. I have really sensitive skin, and so I am using a rice-based micro-foliant from Dermalogica, but I'm pretty sure that any exfoliation is good.
Moisturizers have me stumped. This is actually the inspiration for the entire blog post. I have consulted a few estheticians about what kind of facial moisturizers are needed for this weather and have been told that "intensive moisture" is best. Here are three I have read reviews on here, here, and here, but ultimately I am clueless. (Tell me your favorites in the comments section).

Other Remedies

I have finally committed to drinking more water, and when I can't do the water I'm drinking more tea. They say caffeine is a water usurper, and if they only knew how much coffee I drink they would probably give me a time out. Drink up.
I have a humidifier in our bedroom and it is a total gem. My eyes and skin love me when I remember to use it.
And if all else fails, blow your savings on a tropical vacation or join me in sending the National Weather Service emails asking them to turn the heat up.

P.S. I know global warming isn't a joke, but it doesn't mean I don't think it's funny to always reference it.

P.P.S. I use CFLs and ride the bus.

Life Lessons from 2009 (or just a bunch of words in one place)

2009-12-22T12:56:00.001-07:00

Things that I learned in 2009

1. Waste makes Haste

Yes, I know the saying is haste makes waste but that is not the lesson I learned. I learned that waste makes haste. The year of 09 was cluttered as could be. I was no longer a newlywed (I say we still are, but for the sake of this lesson-learned, I was not) and I was no longer fresh out of college. I was working 40 hour weeks, juggling bills, moving homes, making and maintaining relationships, volunteering, working for free, and doing an awful job. There was just to much "that" for one of me.

Simplifying my world was the answer. Everything from keepsakes to weekly obligations, bills to luxuries, it all is in a process of streamlining and simplification. I have a lot of work to do still, all the while working on not throwing the baby out with the bath water. But dang if that baby isn't a fatty.

2. Living with people is hard
2009 will henceforth be known as the year I lived in community. I started out the year with just my husband and I in a one bedroom apartment. Then we moved to a 5 Bedroom, 4 bath home with 2 4 5 other people for 5 months, until the house sold. The rotating number of roommates was chaotically fun. There was always something cooking (in the kitchen and otherwise) and never a lonely moment. We then moved to a 5 bedroom 2 (as in: 1, 2. 2) bathroom house, in which we currently are living.

I am amassing some major life lessons. Best not to get into them all right now. The best advice I had received before moving in to these places was "Learn the lessons that come up here, and learn them well. These are lessons you don't have to learn on your family." You are welcome, future Waneka babies, I am learning away so your barefoot selves will like me a little better.

I think the best thing I have gleaned from my living situations is that it is hard to live with people. No matter who you are, and no matter who they are. If it is easy you then it is probably hard for them. If it is hard for you, it is probably still hard for them. The simple act of placing yourself in the mix with 5 other (or 1, or 2, or 3) personalities brings out all kinds of surprises. Most of all from yourself.

3. Debt is the problem, not money.
As I'm sure I have mentioned 100 times before, this year started out with a couple of big challenges for me. Tyler and I were only about 6 months into our marriage and already going through the lows of a job loss, the stress of a major injury and surgery, and beginning to pay off the debts we earned in the fleeting early years of adulthood (aka STUPID COLLEGE BILLS).

About mid-way through the year we began meeting with a financial mentor. Our friend, Michael, is 40 years married, retired, and debt free. A great role model on so many levels. As we started to come clean about our bad habits, divulge the details of what we owe and who we owe, and own up to some of the dumber choices we made, one thing became clear to me: money doesn't suck. Debt does.

We had lived under the advisement that it was more important to live now, and worry about it later. But yo, so wrong. As Tyler and I have begun our aggressive attack on debt we have learned first hand that when you have debt, you are under someone's thumb. I want to be the boss of me, so we're chiseling away.

4. Trusting people to be your friends even if you don't get why is hard but makes you a better friend.
I have some wonderful long-term friendships, some have lasted longer than most marriages in the US. The thing about these friendships is that I began them when I was young. I was young and baggage free. Unfortunately, I have had some friendships that came and went quicker than a travel mug (because dammit, if those things don't just run away on their own). I have come away from those places a little bruised up and carrying these ideas that close friends in adulthood might not exist.

This year, a light has come on. They exist and they are wonderful. You just have to scale back your baggage to about the size of a carry-on. We all have had relationships that make it hard to be comfortable in new ones, but as long as you are walling everyone out you will be walling yourself in.

I have an obnoxious sense of humor, I sneeze really weird, and I sometimes ask really stupid questions. But to know me is to love me and some people want to do that. Who I am to stop them?

5. Love is better in action.
I think my biggest lesson of the year came in February. The same month that Tyler and I learned that surgery was going to cost us about a month's worth of income, not including physical therapy or incidentals. We began to discuss the idea of putting off the surgery until we had saved up enough to pay for it, or simply not doing it at all. Tyler was wrestling with the idea of never snowboarding again at 24. Kind of brutal.

One night, at one of our weekly dinners with our friends we told them about the idea of putting off the surgery and how that was the direction we were leaning. They had already been there for us, making dinner for us while Tyler was on crutches and watching the entire 10-hour series of Band of Brothers because we were pretty much locked in the house for a few days after the injury. They were taking care of us, and keeping our spirits up. After we finished telling them our plans for the next few month they handed us a card with a check in it, a check to cover the surgery.

Close to 20 people, some really close friends and others just barely knew us, pitched in what they could and raised a couple thousand dollars to cover our costs. It was incredible. I still don't know how to explain what it felt like to receive that check. They were already there for us and supporting us through a pretty stressful experience and didn't need to do anything more. What moved me the most was that they jumped in and footed the bill. They didn't hope for the best and then wait to see if we were going to sink or swim, they jumped in the water with us and made sure we made it.

This experience has totally changed my perspective on how you care for the people you love. It is always good to have good feelings, and warm wishes towards the people or the issues that you care about. But the way that you feel is really only about you; it's what you do to show them you care that matters. Excuse me for the drama but the St. Crispen's Day speech from Henry V says "We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother," so poetically sums up what it means to carry burdens with the people you love and how thankful I am for my friends who have done that.

And so...
I wanted to write about the things I learned and try to remember the changes that happened this year, more for me than for anyone else. But I have stumbled through my language, and don't know if I even said what I wanted to. Oh the fine line of blogging and that which resembles public drunkeness.

Well I had a good year, and I didn't know I was going to. Goodbye Aughties, I'm off to the tens, or the teens, or you know, the next ones.

Merry Christmas Internets!

Commuting, Construction, and Choose your own Adventure

2009-12-16T09:48:00.000-07:00

Let me tell you a little story about my daily commute to work, as I find myself facing a conundrum on a regular basis.

I am fortunate enough to live just 2 miles from where I work. More than that, I live exactly 2 miles down the same street from where I work. Because of this prime proximity it seems commuting should rarely take more than 20 minutes. It seems. I am unfortunate enough to live directly north of the massive reconstructive overhaul they are doing on Broadway, a job that is 10 months from completion.

Here are my daily commute options written as a choose your own adventure, naturally:

You wake up in the morning and go through your tried and true routine. Gym, shower, coffee, out the door by 7:40. You walk out the door, and pause for a second in front of your house and try to choose your mode of transportation this morning? You can walk, bus, or drive. What do you choose?

If You chose to walk: A good choice, since mornings are often mild and this allows you time enough to wake up before you begin a long day of work. You walk one block from your house and have to dodge a couple of tractors that are working on the new sidewalk, which you notice will eventually be constructed in your front yard. Nice!

Next, you see that there are tractors up a couple of blocks on this side of the road, and you really hate trying to judge their helter-skelter driving routes while dodging traffic. Do you continue on and try to play chicken with the bobcats or do you cross to the other side?

You decide to cross the other side of the street and lo-and-behold. More construction. Glorious tractors, orange cones, and loitering men abound. Now you have to frogger your way either through the construction, or cross to the other side of the street, where you can frogger your way through the construction. (On a related note, do you have to go to Junior High to be a city planner? Or is that kind of a walk-on type position?)

You decide to frogger your way through the construction and you fall into an un-covered manhole. The End.

If You chose to take the bus: Good choice! Lucky for you, you are right on the Skip route, the simplest and most frequently running bus in town. Since you left the house at 7:40 and managed to run through traffic on Broadway to get to the closest bus stop, the next bus should only be 3 minutes away! You will be able to get to Pearl with plenty of time to grab a coffee before work. Mental high-five.

Alas, it is now 7:53 . The first and second buses, as posted on the morning commute schedule on RTD, are yet to appear. At this point, you are guaranteed to be late, and forget about coffee. But what do you see coming over the hill? Why it is a fleet of Skip buses, four in a row! They are following no schedule posted anywhere, but by-golly, they are traveling in a glorious pack. The first bus is packed with high school students so you can ride standing up. Yes, the other buses are empty, why do you ask?

You get off the bus and show up to work. Unfortunately, while you were waiting for the bus, they took out an ad for, interviewed, hired, and trained your replacement. You are fired. The end.

If You Chose to Drive: You get into your car and wait between the awkwardly staggered traffic (another perk to both sides of the road being worked on) and finally peel out into traffic, in a school zone no less. 10 cool points are deducted from your ego. Ouch. You drive and park in the parking garage. As you get out of your car Al Gore comes out from the stairwell and hits you over the head with his Oscar because you just drove 2 miles to work. The End.

Wasn't that a good story?

Stay Warm and Prosper

2009-12-09T15:18:00.003-07:00

This morning, my Twitter was full of posts like this:

And this:

And these:

"It's -2 outside right now. Awesome!"

"So on my way to the gym this morning my car told me it was -10 degrees. That is butt freaking cold!!!!!!! I need it to warm up a little."

"No one should have to go outside when it's -6 degrees. I'm moving so much slower this morning."

"Alright who wants to bail on this -9 degree stuff w/ me and go spend the rest of the month in Florida?"

I do. I want to bail and I'm not sure I even like Florida. It's like I don't even know where I am anymore. In Colorado, we have snow but it is supposed to melt. We have sun, all the time. Sun. All the time. This sub-zero, cloudy, blizzard siege is kind of killing me softly. I have been desperately wracking my brain for ways to go and warm up and created a little mental list.

Then, I was inspired by Maggie (of MightyGirl.com) and her list of "7 Ways to keep Cozy in San Francisco" and decided to share how I plan to stay warm in Boulder during this ~~hellish freeze~~ winter.

1. Have a Cup of soup and homemade artisan Bread at Oliv You & Me at Pearl and Broadway.
This boutique specializes in olive oil and olive oil accessories. I absolutely love stepping into the shop on a chilly day. Patti Scott, the owner, has cultivated a shop that feels like a mini-vacation. She usually has a couple of soups on, and always has a variety of olive oils to sample.Olive it! (Get it guys?! Oh witty!)

2. Have a Latte and a Gingerbread Stout Cupcake at Tee and Cakes.

Tee and Cakes is one of my favorite places to head during my work week. The carefully selected music combined with the great art and creative baked goods is a refreshing break from all things corporate. Also, I kind of have a crush on their intern. Follow Tee and Cakes on Twitter and get VIP deals. Mmmmcupcake!

3. Slurp fancy noodles and inspired cocktails at Happy Noodle and the Bitter Bar.
Happy Noodle is one of Big Red F's newer Boulder spots. I love Big Red F and all the things they do. I mean that. Happy Noodle has a menu full of diverse and inventive dishes, complete with Ramen (The ultimate Happy Noodle, no?) and their specialty Hot and Happy Soup. The Bitter Bar is somewhat a force of it's own. It defines itself as the "marriage of a speakeasy and...lounge." Warm it up with a hot sake, Brandi or Denver's own Leopold Absinthe.

4. Duck into a reading nook at the Boulder Book Store upstairs.
Boulder's largest independent bookstore started with only 10 bookcases and 5 employees. Roughly 36 years later, it is a three story haven for book-loving locals. The picturesque "annex" or upstairs is my favorite place to hide out on my lunch breaks, especially when the weather is going ballistic and hanging out below zero. I mean..weather, it's zero- you really can't go below it. You're just being a showboat, and no one likes a showboat.

5. Frequent the West End Tavern for a Hot Toddy
The West End Tavern is arguably one of my favorite places in Boulder. Period. It could be the hot wings. It's really hard to say. What I do know for sure is there are not many places I want to go when the snow is coming down in buckets, but I'll always go for a hot toddy at the The W.E.T.

6. Lurk by the fire and listen to Live Jazz at The St. Julien
In my last year of college I took a class on the History of Jazz. The class was incredible, and now I can look extra cool when people ask me about jazz. You know, when that happens someday. This class required we attend a certain number of live jazz performances; I attended all of mine at the St. Julien. This started a love affair with the St. Julien lobby. You can walk in, sit in a a velour slipper chair, listen to jazz, sip a cocktail or a latte, feel fancy and do so next to one of the best fireplaces I know of.

7. Actually go to Hot Yoga
Few things undo the core freezing walk to the bus. I don't care if you get under your covers WITH the space heater and pour buckets of hot tea over your head; sometimes that bone chill is just going to linger right in to forever. Why? Because it's Colorado, and mountain living comes at a price my friend. Luckily, this is Boulder, and you are never too far from a heated studio pumping Thievery Corporation and the heat cranked to 105. Glorious.

8. Sherpas for garlic naan, Vindaloo, and Chai
I don't know how to explain Sherpas. They have incredible chai tea. You simply must go. The victorian house is a one-stop shop for Himalayan expeditions and cuisine, and authentic chai. Their website paints the best picture:

"As the name implies, there are genuine Sherpas from the Himalaya here to bring a little of Nepal & Tibet to Boulder. In addition to great food & atmosphere, we offer a truly unique "traveler's lounge" with plenty of books to help get you started planning your next (or better yet first) adventure. Keep an eye out for our list of guest speakers and slide shows. If experiencing the Himalayas (or Thailand, Africa, or South America for that matter) appeals to you - you're in the right place. Sherpa's is the place to re-live the glories of past adventures and plan new ones."

Have I mentioned their chai?

So if you are looking for me and I'm not cuddled on the floor with a space heater and every pair of socks I could find in the house (at this point I don't care if they are even mine), you might find me at one of these Boulder warm-ups.

I have girly-man triceps and Hamstrings of Inflexible Steel

2009-12-07T15:50:00.003-07:00

(It has been over a month since my last post. Let's just pretend like we don't notice.)

This Monday has been one of the more painful Mondays I have had in a while. It isn't entirely due to the excessive amount of needy callers who still do not understand that when I say I will transfer them to a voice mail and then do it, it is not a mistake. Seriously. Calling back will just yield the same results. Even if you call back twice. Leave a message Jethro.

Anyway, I'm a little extra pained because my muscles are sore due to the Bar Method class I took on Saturday. I think they're still kind of angry that I found them because they are the muscles that never get worked extensively, except for a day I spend snowboarding (aka using extreme acrobatic prowess to hoist myself back to my feet 30-40 times per run). Hello my wimpy triceps, I have found you and I shall torture and exhaust you.

The Bar Method is a relatively new workout regime as far as dedicated studios and DVDs go. It consists of three basics types of exercises that target your muscles, work them to exhaustion, and then stretch them while they are still warm. It is supposedly a really effective way to build lean muscle of the non-bulky variety.

I campaigned on Facebook and via text for a workout buddy to come try the basics class with me this weekend as it was both of the following: a. Free; b. Bound to reveal my severely inflexible hamstrings. You'd think that no escort would have discouraged me, but let us not forget how entirely shameless and slightly delusional I can be. Indeed, I showed up alone and was the only person do to so. Holla at a loner.

Despite my loner status, the Boulder location is really inviting. It is modern, light and airy feeling. As an added bonus, they offer each class attendee a locker free of charge (yoga studios should take note). The studio itself has floor-to-ceiling mirrors around the room, a ballet barre along the mirrors, and any of the equipment you would need for the workout. I showed up in some socks and I was set to go.

The class seemed to consist of four different phases: a warm-up; the upper body and arm workout; the barre work out (focusing mainly on legs and the glutes); and some serious core work. Each phase was followed by stretching the muscle groups that were just worked. The class is meant to work you "head-to-toe," and it certainly did. I felt about two inches taller and was definitely aware of my abs.

I loved the class overall. Certainly my amazingly inflexible hamstrings proved a challenge for the barre stretches (it has to be said that the forward stretch in middle school PE was always what made me hate the presidential fitness test), but, other than that, all of the moves were relatively easy to learn. They were fairly easy to do as well, however; doing the 90 reps (yes ma'am, 90) got the old heart rate right up there. I could definitely see this class yielding its promised results of lean and toned muscle groups.

The only real drawback of the bar method is the price range. At $18 per class it is difficult to wiggle into the budget. The upside to that is the DVDs, which feature the method's founder. This kind of knocks out the self-concious trial period and the high price tag problem in one fell swoop.

I will definitely try the Bar Method again since it was such a stellar workout. I felt like like I could freely indulge the cheddar cheese stored in the cheese drawer in my fridge. Ahh, cheese drawer.

Who formed you?

2009-11-05T15:36:00.001-07:00

Around six months ago, a friend of mine graduated from college. He was quite the hard working student, and it certainly seemed to pay off for him when he was able to graduate with honors and some kind of laude (I obviously didn't graduate as one, since I don't even know what to call it). Anyway, after walking in a cap and gown, eating cake, and a spirited celebration, he had found himself in the mood for a philosophic conversation. He posed the question, "Who formed you? I'm an individual."

I hope he reads this. Or hears about it.

While we tease him endlessly for said comment, it is something I have been considering lately for my life. Sometimes I ask myself, "Who do I think I am?" or "Is this who I want to be?"

Earlier today I wrote a blog post, and published it. Then I pinged my friend saying "read my awkward blog post"

"I can't wait, what is it about?"

"Facebook. Defriending. The norm."
"Oh poor guy."

Yeah, wait, what? My friend then asked me a series of questions that reminded me of who I try to be.

"Does it edify anyone/anything?"

"No, but I don't know that I've ever written anything that does that. It's funny if that's what you're asking."
"Well, ok, so does it help you to write about it?"

My conscience apparently wrapped up it's lunch date right about that time and chimed it, "Yeah Jules, how does this help?"

"Maybe I'll re-read my post."

Ultimately I opted to take down my post, because it wasn't really consistent with anything. Yeah, I thought the scenario was funny because it was so completely awkward, and centered on Facebook. Funny? Sure. Worth reading? Unsure.

Who formed you? I guess if we're really honest, not one of us is an "individual" because so many people play into the areas of our lives that form us. We don't just wake up and decide "Alas! I am this! This is how I live now!" To some extent we do, but not one of us approaches life without carrying in our particular brand of baggage. That person who accidentally insulted our macaroni drawing that was clearly supposed to be of an elephant and not a triangle, he may have played a part. The child screaming in the middle of the grocery store, while a young single mother hid her face and made you wonder why people ever have kids, she might have played a role. We are mold-able, we can become jaded, or at the very least, a vapid version of ourselves if we don't pay attention.

Recently I have been considering this aspect of my life. Considering the areas of my life where I have refused to let people in, because that part of me was going to be indie, dammit. Also, considering the places in my life I have shared with friends, and the ways they have changed. I prefer that my life remains a team sport, because I certainly don't like to do it all alone. One is the loneliest number after all.

Sometimes I need a filter. Sometimes my conscience is out to lunch. Sometimes I'm looking at myself with so much past in the corners of my eyes that I can't see where I am and where I am heading. I am so thankful to have people with beautiful hearts, perceptive minds, and caring voices working on seeing my potential and introducing me to it.

Why I ought to take boarding lessons this year: my epic fail

2009-10-31T15:39:00.003-06:00

I've been a little bit out of the action the past week. I contracted some sort of non-swine flu illness thing-a-ma-jig and was only interested in a block of cheddar, and 30 Rock. In addition, Colorado had a pretty unseasonable blizzard and shrouded itself in 27 inches or more of snow for two days. The urge to sing Christmas carols was unbearable. However, I was not about to let Colorado's disregard for the season peer pressure me into making the same mistake.

The mass amounts of snow reminded me of one of my best, and most embarrassing, ski stories ever. Since today is Halloween, a celebration of oddness and treats, this story seems to be the perfect morsel for you.

To set the tone, I have to tell you about my husband's bff. I could say friend but that wouldn't really do their relationship much justice. Before "bromance" and "man-dates" were a part of the common vernacular Tyler and Brady were years into, their term here, a heterosexual life-partnership. They have Guy Love. They don't live in the same city, they only see each other about once a year, and yet, they don't seem to miss a beat with each other. It's really quite incredible. Some might be wondering: "How is she not jealous of such a connection?" I am not jealous because this friend played a key role in reigniting the spark between Tyler and I (some even speculate that it might not have happened if Brady had not asked Tyler why we broke up). Also, I don't have to pretend to understand how Chauncy opened up the back court; he's got someone there for him to be excited with him. Win, win, WIN.

Anyway, Brady and his wife, Liz, came to visit and get some quality time in skiing up at Winter Park. We joined them for a few days and it was really great to see them. Tyler and Brady needed some QT with one another and the NCAA tournament so they sent the wives off for a day of skiing/boarding. (They might have come if Tyler had not just had knee surgery, but I'm inclined to think that they would have stayed in no matter what the circumstances).

It must be said that I am not a premium boarder. Over the last five years, I was in school during the week days and working on the weekend, equating to little or no time to hit the slopes. I did get pretty good in high school, and was decent enough to teach some friends how to board my first year of college. However, five years is a significant gap of time, and I am currently relearning how to get off the dang lift. This said gap in snowboarding practice was ever evident during this wives-only ski day.

Liz is a good skier. She can get on and off the lift with out a flailing tumble, and she stays on her feet down the entire run. I cannot say either thing is true about myself. Fortunately, she was totally awesome. She helped me get out of the way of the people dismounting the lift and dodging my ski gear, now strewn about the snow. She even pretended like it wasn't the most awkward and uncoordinated thing ever when I fell off the lift and skidded into a group of skiers looking at a map. This is all true people.

Finally, on my way down the hill, I come up with a solution to not fall. If only both of my feet were trapped into my board, then I could get off and sail down the mountain like Shawn White. I might even do a mogul or two! I meet up with Liz at the line to the express lift (which is exactly what it sounds like to all who have not done the downhill thing) and tell her my brilliant plan. She nods and offers me a ski pole to use to maneuver through the line. Liz is a skier and cannot be held accountable for my poor choice, however, the snowboarders in line can be. If you see me groping the line dividers on my way to get on the ski lift, for the love of humanity, HELP ME OUT BECAUSE I'M CLEARLY MAKING A POOR CHOICE HERE.

I toil my way to the front of the line with both feet firmly bound into my board. The attendant scanning the lift tickets motions to us to step up to the line to wait for the chair to come pick us up. Mid-sentence his eyes pop out of his head and he begins motioning to my legs and yelling "YOU CAN'T! YOU HAVE TO UNSTRAP, YOU HAVE TO UNSTRAP!" But the EXPRESS LIFT is already turning the corner of the pulley, and I think that to bend down and unstrap my foot would result in my demise and unfortunate loss of my head. Being rather fond of my head, I opt to "try" the chair lift despite his advice.

I now know what it is like to be underhand tossed into a mountain. I know this because the lift came at its express rate, lifted me, feet bound, and threw me face first into a few feet of snow. I imagine it looked like a cross between Clark Griswald being electrocuted by Christmas lights (as seen to the left), and an epic bellyflop. A face-first plummet, three or four feet through the air, into a mound of snow.

Reminder: I am getting on the ski lift. There are people in line, in prime position to witness my poor decision and subsequent drop. From the back of this line of people a woman's voice chimes "Lesson Learned!"

Indeed.

A letter I get in my dreams

2009-10-21T16:52:00.002-06:00

Dear Mrs. Waneka,

We, the CEO's of a major Bank in America, have stumbled upon your blog. We find your writing both lively and full of candor. Additionally, we find your gaggle of readers to be desirable and splendid individuals; they are the perfect profile of our most desired potential clientele. Finally, we have come across your life list of things to be getting to while the getting is good, and we have come to to a rather exciting conclusion. We will fund every last dime.

We would like to inspire people to hope for the most, and expect the best. We want to shake off the dust of that fussy little economic mess we created and remind people that crazy dreams are worth a second thought. We find you to be just crazy enough to check off these items on your list. And would you know, we're the perfect amount of profitable to support it.

Please pack your bags and assemble a team of cohorts and experts to begin checking items off your list. Be sure not to pack any shoes, as we would like to personally fulfill that wish of "the perfect shoe collection" right away.

Quit your job without delay, we will send a plane for you in the morning.

Signed,

Bank of Awesome

At least that is how the letter reads in my dream. How can I get someone to sign this dang thing?

Well. Item no. 6 is to deejay at a club for at least 1 hour. I want to learn how to rock a pair of enormous headphones and then show people my inner-booty-shaking-self via my fat beats I mix. Road trip?

Yogi Me

2009-10-16T16:07:00.005-06:00

Hey guys, sorry that I had gone missing for a few days with no word. I was just hiding in the attic. I mean the garage. I mean a box in the attic in the garage. I did this for a show. No I didn't.

Ok, I got it out of my system. I refuse to add one more you-know-what-boy link to the internet insanity (though I was totally sucked into it yesterday). All I want to say is this: there is not a single reason I do not live in Fort Collins; there are quite a few. Yesterday I added one more. Oh Ft. Collins, your crazies carry guns on campus to stave off school shootings, wear sunglasses on the backs of their heads indoors, and send up UFO balloons with kids in them, or not, please send a helicopter. As a town, you could probably use a little guidance. Boulder, on the other hand, knows exactly where it's going: Corepower Yoga, obvs.

Speaking of yoga, lately I have wondered what it would be like to go on a little yoga bender. I have been at my current job for 15 months, in a row, and I'm already getting that old person swagger. The one that comes from carrying way too much junk in your bag, so you don't get bored at your desk...err... on the bus. The one that comes from uncomfortable shoes, unforgiving wool pants, and an ergonomic desk chair that is just not the right height for your desk and so you slouch all day. I'm 23, but my hips are groaning and reminiscing of the days when Regan was in office (which I think is their way of saying I lean too far left for them. Zing!).

As some of you may know, I worked for the Yoga-store-to-remain-unnamed for about a year in college. That little venture landed me free yoga classes at most of the local studios, and that is a lot. Boulder must have the highest per capita yoga studios in a single town, someone google that. At any rate, I really only have been able to commit to 1 maybe 2 classes a week, because it is a little out of my price range (while you're googling, look up Boulder's median income- and have a bucket near by) and I just don't think I've ever seen what yoga really can do.

(This little photo was in the paper, as alerted to me by one of my college professors at the time. There I am, in the gray, lunging across a gym with two of my managers from the yoga store.

One of the reasons I do not work there anymore.)

I am on a quest to get a studio to let me attend classes for 30 days straight, in exchange for me writing about what happens over that time. Things such as: if I notice any increases in my sleep patterns; joint mobility; stronger muscles; improved posture; or a need to dreadlock my hair and henna an apocalyptic dragon on my face. Wouldn't you read that blog? I would.

So far, I have had contact with a few studios and they all seem to kind of furrow their brows at me and stare blankly as if I have already henna-ed an apocalyptic dragon on my face. I say "Guys, I'm awesome, you'll love me in your classes! You won't even know I'm here. Pretty please?" And they are like, "Lady, please get off of my mat, I'm teaching right now."

Maybe yoga will help me with social boundaries. Fingers Crossed!

Item number 3: Wine

2009-10-13T16:24:00.002-06:00

I am 50% Italian and 50% French. Those are not exactly the right genetic representations. There are other mixtures in there. I am certain I have a lot of Irish blood, per my penchant for swearing when other words might do just fine. According to my mom, we have some Spanish heritage. But take a quick look at that photo to the right, and you'll see that even in a black and white photo, I'm scary white. Spanish is going to be a hard one to sell. Anyway, back to my first statement: I'm 50% Italian and 50% French.

In college, I began studying Italian and my Italian-born professor was calling out the attendance sheet on the first day of class. She called out the first few names, Anderson, Adams, Banks, etc. When she saw my name, her eyes lit up. My maiden name (weird) is Baratta, and Baratta is the Smith of Italy. Add to that, my first name, Julia, is derivative of Giulia, the north eastern region of Italy. Her face went from excitement, "Giulia Baratta?" (r's rolled and t's said individually), to bewilderment as she squinted and tilted her head and I responded "Si, that means 'yes' right?" She immediately asked me to list all the Italian words I knew. High point: I knew a couple, Low point: all apparently inappropriate. Thanks Grandpa.

My Papa, or my great Grandfather, was Paul Walti and grew up in San Francisco speaking Frenglish. He was an Opera singer (typical), and every time we came to the city we dropped by the Basque cultural center to eat escargo or flit about in fashionable shoes or whatever French things we did there. All I can remember is that was the place where if I had the stomach flu, I needed a sip of red wine. A headache? A sip of red wine. I was grouchy? Have a nap, oh and maybe a sip of red wine. Red wine anyone?

Why am I writing all of this? Well, with half of me identifying Italian and the other half identifying French, I love me some wine. I am writing out my life list, or my bucket list - I'm not entirely sure what I'm going to call it just yet. Item #3: Build and establish a wine collection worthy of a cellar. I know a few varieties, and vineyards that I like, but in order to build a collection with diversity I'm going to need some suggestions.

Internets, do you like wine? Which ones?

Click here to here my Grandpa Singing the San Francisco Giant's Anthem (on the bottom of the page)

Frickin Freezing in Here

2009-10-12T17:04:00.001-06:00

As I mentioned a few days ago, Colorado was heading into it's colder times of the year. Little did I know Colorado was barreling head first into a giant wall of freezing snow and iciness. A wall of freezing snow and iciness on OCTOBER 8th, no less. I guess we'll have fall next year.

Ultimately, I spent the weekend huddled around a space heater, or cuddling my cast iron soup pot. I drank about 1.6 gallons of hot chocolate, and I'm still frozen. This is likely due to the fact that I work in a building that was built in 1836 (yes folks, that is an eight right there) and live in a house built about 40 years later. It is as if Old Man Winter has affixed himself to me, and has done so quite unseasonably early. I think him coming in October is equivocal to my grandma waking up at 4 am, "just to start her day, dear"

I am committed to completing at least one of these two cold weather projects at some point this week. This Lotta Jandsotter draft stopper seems to be a decent attempt at warming up room. At least we'll try, no?

But this Corn Pillow is a delightful bit of heaven. I had one of these last winter, and it was the single best thing I owned when it was cold. I have since gifted it to a friend of mine who, quote "Needed it, because he had to sleep alone, and if he didn't have one he could likely die." Deep down, I knew he was right, so I gave away my beloved pillow.

You can find the DIY tutorial at Wily Wilco Craft Vixen.

You will have to forgive me today, I'm desperately tired, and I cannot think of anything to write. Why hello Monday.

I Always Fall for the Bad Ones

2009-10-09T15:53:00.008-06:00

Act One: We enter in on a scene where Julia eyes a slice of cheese pizza in the break room.

Julia: Oh, you again.What did I say about coming to my office?
C. Pizza: You won't return my calls.
Julia: So you just lurk in our kitchen here? What're you trying to do here?
C.Pizza: I know we've had some not so great times. I'm not going to pretend that whole thing with your skinny jeans didn't happen. It did. And you loved those jeans. But back in high school, we hung out all the time and there were no problems. I miss that.
Julia: Yeah, but things have changed. I need to try to fit in my clothes.
C.Pizza: Just one more chance, please?
Julia: I don't think it's a good idea. I'm just not sure.
C.Pizza: I have basil. I know how much you love Basil. And red sauce, remember red sauce Jules?
Julia: You had me at cheesey.

Exercising after pizza always feels like (what I imagine) Catholic* confession does. Like, hi hello, oops. I did this thing...and I'm already sorry for it, but I just feel like this isn't quite going to cover me. And the preist is all "Yeah, you're right. Do you know what the Bible says about mozzarella? Forget Hail Mary's, you are going to have to ride your bike 10 miles, and follow that up with hot yoga- for 6 hours! Get a-toning." (ah see what I did there?)

(side note, I was baptized Catholic, and my favorite family members are Catholic, so I think I'm allowed to make these jokes- I'll check and get back to you).

Anyway, while we're heading to confession, why not have our Sunday best, no? I have used the Lululemon Align Ultra Mat for about 2 years. I love it. It isn't your top of the line when it comes to mats, I hear that the Manduka is the best, but alas, I don't have an extra $100 dollars ever. Especially since I'm buying all this pizza. The Align Mat is soft enough to cushion you, sturdy enough it won't stretch during a down dog, and it's kinda cute. But the lines, oh the lines! They have these lines on the mat to help you square up your posture. When the teacher says to make sure your feet are in alignment, you can. This is nice for the joints, but I especially love it because I'm not getting touched and adjusted every five minutes. I like when you fix my posture, but when you touch my lower back, my brain goes "Danger ZONE!" Sometimes, I just like to do it myself, Bikram, I hope you can understand.

And while we're buying awesome mats, why not carry them in Modern Union's cute, yet functional bag. If we have to ride our bikes to class, we might as well look awesome.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to file a restraining order against the pizza delivery guy. Pizza stalking me in my break room? That's just too far.

Here we go...

2009-10-08T10:54:00.004-06:00

It is officially cold season in Colorado. Not cold season as in "I hab a cold, but I'mb find," but rather the "Where did all my sweaters go? I need at least 7 to 10 sweaters on my body right now, wait no, nevermind, I'm feverishly hot, someone turn on the air please," cold season. The time in which the three seasons meld into one conglomerate season with multiple personalities. This is the time between October and May when any forecast could say it will be 70 degrees and sunny, or -2 degrees and snowy, and no one would be very surprised at either. This is when even young twenty somethings repeat senior citizen adages such as "If you don't like the weather in Colorado, wait five minutes," or "You need to learn how to layer if you're gonna make it in Colorado." Yes, we get it, and yes, it's hilarious. I'm just laughing on the inside.

Actually, cold season is fun here because in the grand scheme of things, we have a very livable winter. The drawbacks of snowy and icy roads are often quickly dealt with by mass quantities of sunshine. The hills look like someone took a flour sifter to them, and the air is crisp and refreshing with not even a hint of muggy nastiness.

However, this season really cramps my style when it comes to working out outside. I have had far to many morning runs ("far too many" reads as "a total of maybe two") cut short because my fingers have frozen solid and the wind has sand blasted my legs with tiny frozen pieces of dirt through my cotton sweats. Don't get me started on the fact that my toes were numb before I even put my shoes on.

This winter I'm determined to find an exercise plan that will be sustainable through the cold days. My goals are as follows:

Try out at least three new types of exercise for at least one to two weeks.
Dedicate at least 30 days to indoor exercise that does not have the words "machine" or "cardio theater" anywhere in the names
Dedicate at least 30 days to some form, or a few forms, of outdoor (I feel my nose hair freezing already) exercise.

I am notoriously cynical by nature (or nurture, discuss amongst yourselves), and certainly my woes will likely find their way onto this blog. However, I am most interested in finding things that work, that I enjoy, that are delightfully good and share my experience of them here. I think it's going to be a long winter, and so this is my project to distract me from the gray days and the Chinook madness.

Your thoughts?

Mad Muppets

2009-10-07T09:08:00.002-06:00

I didn't know I could love Sesame Street any more than I already did, and then they had Feist on the show to teach us how to count. Just when I thought my heart had reached its maximum capacity for Muppets and ensuing hilarity, they go ahead and bring us this little gem.

Now Don Draper is not just a womanizer, and a chain-smoker, and God love him- he's the best at both of those things; he is in touch with his feelings. His dreamy, dreamy, feelings.

Say goodbye to Velour, for everyone's best interests

2009-10-05T12:08:00.001-06:00

You're speeding back to school from the tanning salon in your Honda Prelude and listening to Britney's newest single: Toxic. And what is most offensive? You are wearing a velour track suit. Granted it is 2003, and thanks to J. Lo, 90% of females in the country were doing the same thing. However, in 2009 (2 months from 2010- hello time warp!) there is simply no justification for velour track suits outside of...nowhere. I tried to think of an appropriate place, but I just don't think there is such a thing.

Having worked at a yoga clothing shop that is to remain unnamed, I'm a sweats-junkie myself. After a few too many grocery store run-ins with potential employers and fairly important acquaintances, I have been revamping my casual wear outlook. Living in the most active city in the U.S. (fact check) I have seen my fair share of public grunge displayed as if it is appropriate to wear hiking shorts to a job interview, but I maintain that spandex is a privilege, not a right!

Here are some of my favorite casual wardrobe staples for every public situation that does not fall under the "I'm on my way home from the gym and need to pick up milk before tucking and rolling out of this place and back into my car" category.

In the words of Fashion Tribes:"AN ALTERNATIVE TO SWEATS Under no circumstances should you ever be seen publicly in a tracksuit or velour sweat suit (airplanes and gyms included). However, if you want a comfy walking-the-dog outfit, Gunn suggests leggings, a detailed tee, chic flats, and an interesting hoodie."

I substituted the hoodie with a luxurious looking wrap, and the flats with fold over boots (mostly because flats in winter in Colorado equal misery), but I think this outfit would be really fabulous with a pair of suede ankle boots.

Bye Bye J. Lo.