Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Cheezy Bits of Addictive Goodness

See this box?

It is my nemesis. My Kryptonite.

These little bite-sized squares of cheesy goodness have been ruining my afternoons at work.

Because I can't stop eating them.

No matter what.

The baby or the Cheez-Its, guess which one I'd save?

I always know when it hits 4pm on a workday.

Because I start thinking about these Crack-bits.

And salivating.

My Pavlovian response.

And then it's game over between me and the vending machine.

It wins my money every time.

Oh, cheesy crack, why are you so good?

What are you really made of?

Is it weird that I just wrote a whole blog post about Cheez-Its?

Evidence of my love affair with this crack.

Does this happen to anyone else?

Friday, February 28, 2014

Posting Every Day is Not My Cup of Tea

It's the last day of February and I managed to post something every day.

Boy, was it hard.

Thinking up something to write about every day isn't easy. Mostly because my life isn't that interesting on a daily basis. Ha.

The quality of my posts also went down. I just can't think up of mind-blowing ideas to write about every single day. I'm not that clever.

It was a nice experiment to try to document every day but I'm glad this challenge is over.

Thursday, February 27, 2014


I was watching My Love From Another Star earlier this evening and the writing in episode 20 struck me with its honesty. The female protagonist says:
You just exist somewhere for me.
For me...
And don't die.
Exist somewhere for me.
So what I mean is...go.
Back to where you came from.
If you stay with me and die, then I'll die with you.
Do you know what I mean?
The fact that you're alive somewhere will help me live.
It's much easier to know that you are alive somewhere in this world.
And I couldn't help being moved by the truth in her words. Because I've felt this, I've thought these thoughts.

When one of my closest friends from college went missing, all I wanted was a sign that she was alive somewhere. Because I couldn't imagine a world without her existing in it. It was much easier to think of her as running away than missing. It didn't matter if I never saw her again, though I desperately wanted to, as long as she was alive somewhere. And that's the thought I clung to for a long long time. Even after her remains were found.

I don't think that anymore, it took years of grieving before I accepted that my friend was gone, but watching this drama today brought it all back. And, it made me think about the writing. How did the writer do that? How was she able to create something that felt so real to me?

It's magical when that happens.

Books, movies, dramas, TV shows, dance, music, art, they all have one thing in common for me. When they pull a emotional response out of me by revealing or connecting with a truth, when they reflect a reality that I've forgotten, back at me, that's when I love them the most, that's when they are at their best.

I want to learn how to do that.

Wednesday, February 26, 2014


As soon as I got home from work today, I headed to the fridge and pulled out ingredients for Buttermilk Coffee Cake. It's my go-to cake and it never fails to be a delicious piece of heaven in my mouth. I almost wrote "little piece of heaven" but who am I kidding? My servings are never little and if they were, I'd serve enough little pieces to my mouth to make a normal (gigantic) serving. It's the fat kid genes in me, man.

Here's me plastering my face to the door of my oven while I watch the cake bake. Because I'm impatient like that.

I like to pretend this cake is healthy.

Because it's made with whole wheat flour! (And lots of butter)
Yogurt! (And lots of sugar)
And oats! (Just kidding, there are no oats, I'm delusional)

People need to come over to my house so I can feed them this cake.

It'd inspire world peace.

There, I've solved the world's problems.

Someone give me a Nobel Peace Prize.

Earlier in the week, I'd made this cake too, and ate an entire row straight out of the pan. Then I got a sugar headache. Then I shared some with my bgirls after practice. They loved it and praised me until I blushed. And grew a big head. Then I didn't have anymore. Then I needed to rectify that situation. And it was good.

From my posts these past couple of weeks, you'd think all I do is eat. And think about food. And write about food. And eat more food.

You'd be right.

Maybe I should start a food blog.

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Primal Scream


Hear that? That's my primal scream.

How do people do this 9-5 thing?

7am: Wake up, wash up, make breakfast, whoosh it down.

8am: Get ready for the commute to work, run out of the house, get on a packed train, walk hurriedly to work with coffee in hand.

9am-6pm: Work, work, and more work.

7pm: Get home, prepare dinner.

8pm: Eat dinner, clean up.

9pm: Pay the bills, or do the laundry, or catch up on the news, basically do some sort of adult task.

10pm: Shower. Maybe catch a half hour of something entertaining. Prepare for bed.

11pm: Go to bed just to start the whole cycle again.

How does anyone survive this?

I spend 12 hours of my day either at work, preparing for work, or getting to and from work. So depressing.


This is why I don't really remember the past 2 years of my life.

I need more creativity in my life.

Monday, February 24, 2014

My B-girls

Every single one of my bgirls was able to make it to practice today.


It's been a long time that we've all been able to get together like this.


And, per usual, we went out to eat afterwards.


Crif Dogs: An After-Practice Monday Ritual.

Can't believe it's been 5 years that we've known each other.

It's mind-boggling.

My bgirls, these are the people I started dancing with from the very very beginning.

Can't wait for 5 more!