A Truly Sinful Evening

Last night, I cheated on my husband.

Yes. I did.

I cheated by spending the evening with a very charismatic Italian man, named "Jasper"...

...who slaved over a hot stove, while cooking some of the most amazing food ever...

Of course, there were about 24 other people in the culinary kitchen classroom...

...which made it rather crowded...

...and Chef Jasper was teaching us students all about Venetian cooking...



...which made it rather delightful.


We learned to prepare Tofeja, a succulent Italian Carnevale soup that tasted a lot like minestrone....



We then went on to a fabulous risotto, Risi e Bisi (which means, "rice and peas")...with a dab of some heavy cream and bits of bacon, this dish was heavenly....



For the meat dish, we prepared a recipe from the famous chef, Artusi...Piemonte Fricandu. This was an Italian stew that is served during Carnevale - and with a dash of red wine vinegar and a bit of red wine - it had a little "zing".



For dessert, we prepared Bugie, which are Carnevale fried ribbons of dough. Think pie dough - with a bit of Grand Marnier thrown in (okay, more than a bit...) - and then deep fried with a bit of powdered sugar; serve with gelato and caramel sauce.



To. Die. For.


So - since this was part of culinary school, I guess I wasn't really cheating.


But it sure felt sinful.


Peace.

D-Day: 16 Weeks and Counting

Holy macaroni, Batman...

...my body hurts.

But in a good way. I think.

Trying to train for a half-marathon 10K is either killing me or making me stronger...my body is at that confused state right now, so it hasn't really made up it's mind.

Last night, while watching the Super Bowl, I was at my home-away-from-home. My treadmill. The machine of torture.

Run...walk...run...walk...over and over and over again. Repeat next day.

That's been my story for the last couple of weeks...with 16 more weeks to go until D-Day - which stands for DEATH Day, if you haven't figured it out. The day of the race. The day that I will either finish the damn thing or die trying.

Last night, I pushed it a little harder...a little farther...a little faster. Because running while watching $3 million commercials makes it all better, right?

I have a little ritual now for my gym experiences...after crawling climbing off the treadmill after I've reached my goal for the night, I do a quick inventory of the body...making sure I still have all of my parts, and then evaluating each part for pain threshold.

(I'm 48 years old...there WILL be pain, believe me.)

Hamstrings? Check. Pain-free. Woot.

Knees? Hmmm...a little twinge in the left one, but probably fine. Better watch it a little closer tomorrow.

Shins? Still there...seem to be doing fine. Move on.

Ankles? Check.

Arches in the feet? Wait...was that a slight cramp in the left one? ACK! I hate cramps in my feet. They're the worst.

Then, we wash, rinse, repeat.

If there's a light at the end of the tunnel in all of this madness, it's that I stepped on the scale this morning and four pounds had disappeared. I'm hoping those pounds came from my butt and hips - but it's too soon to tell. And I hope those pounds don't come back. Ever.

In the meantime, I'll keep pounding the pavement...

...all of this to just mark #2 off of my Bucket List??!!

Gah.

The Cutest Two Hours on Television

Today is one of the days that I most look forward to all year...the day that I set aside all those little annoying things that get in the way of life...such as my children...just so I can focus my eyes and my attention on ONE THING.

The BIG DAY is finally here.

The Puppy Bowl.

Yes, the highly-anticipated annual Puppy Bowl is back for it's 7th season, and if you've never watched it...or even heard of it...then all I have to say is, "What rock have you been living under?!"

Because no matter what problems you may be dealing with - or what hurdles you are having to jump over in life - all will be forgotten for the few mindless hours of watching cute, adorable little furry puppies romp and play and chew and nap...along with an entertaining half-time show by cute, furry cuddly kittens.

New this year are the chicken cheerleaders.

CHICKEN CHEERLEADERS??!! How awesome is that??!!!

Classic television, I'm tellin' ya.

Heck, if we could get Osama Bin Laden out from his cave and put him in front of a TV with the Puppy Bowl playing, that would be the end of terrorism.

Let's put the Puppy Bowl on in Tahrir Square in Egypt, and the next thing we'll see, both sides of the protestors will be holding hands and singing Kum By Yah.

Last year, over 8 million people tuned into the Puppy Bowl, which is on the Animal Planet channel today, starting at 3:00 ET.

So, before the big kick-off for that OTHER game today - the Super Bowl - you'll know what I'll be watching.

Puppies. Kittens. And chickens.

Oh my.

Peace.

My Strange Addiction

I'm taking a big risk today in my blog...indeed, the subject that I'm choosing to write about will probably cost me a few readers...

...however, I feel that honesty is the best policy, and I don't feel like I've been honest with you.

So...(taking deep breaths)...

I have a confession.

.

.

I am addicted to "The Jersey Shore."

.

.

.

Do you all hate me now?

It's okay. I would totally understand if you do.

Admitting that I love "The Jersey Shore" is pretty much admitting that I love train wrecks...

...that I have no culture or class...(which I don't, I guess)...

...so if you hate me now, I totally get that.

Even my Hubby hates the fact that I love "The Jersey Shore."

To say he hates the show is an understatement. Really.

What can I say in my defense?

It was all oh-so-innocent to begin with...but isn't that how tawdry love affairs usually begin?

I started watching Snookie and friends just so I could see what all of the hype was about...

And before I knew it, I was SUCKED in to the Guido world of GTL (Gym, Tan, Laundry) and the Boardwalk and Karma and Juiceheads and Grenades and Teeeeeeeeeee-shirt time....

Gah.

It was innocent, I tell you!

Maybe watching the somewhat sad and pathetic lives of the Jersey Shore cast...

...makes me feel just that much better about my own life.

Hey...that sounds like a good excuse, so that's what I'm sticking to.

So...now you know.

Now that you know the sad, pathetic truth about me...I hope you come back to my blog.

Pretty Please?

Peace.

This, I Know...

Snow drifts up our stairs in our back yard...



Know this...

...that after getting deployed yesterday afternoon at 4:30 pm with the American Red Cross,

...that after driving 45 minutes through the raging, howling winds of a white-out blizzard,


No, my photo's not blurry...

...that after setting up a warming shelter in a local community center for stranded highway motorists,


(like for this truck driver, who jack-knived in front of us....)


...that after registering said motorists and quickly cooking some delicious, hot pizza so they could eat,

...that after getting a call from Red Cross RE-assigning me to a different shelter (at 8:30 pm),

...that after driving 45 minutes AGAIN through the raging, howling winds of a white-out blizzard to the NEW shelter,

...that after shoveling mounds of drifting, blowing snow in the mind-numbing, frost-biting temperatures in the darkness of night so we could open the doors of the shelter...without a hat (ouch, said my ears),

...that after getting the new shelter ready for any new, potentially-stranded highway motorists,

...that after spending a restless night on an uncomfortable cot with a thin blanket to ward off the chill, of which there was plenty,

...that after shutting down the shelter at 6:30 a.m. this morning and heading home,

...know THIS:

...that I am one pooped puppy.

Either getting old is not for the faint of heart...or blizzards can kick your butt.

This, I know.

But, I also know that, for all the chaos and misery they cause during their midst, blizzards most certainly leave beauty behind when the move out.



Peace.