Posts Tagged ‘black olives’

Hello Gorgeous

March 10, 2014

I said to myself this morning as I looked in the mirror.

That is not my typical response, just so you know.

I felt and still do feel, really pretty today.

Perhaps it was the sleeping in.

I could not believe I slept in so long.  It wasn’t until nearly lunch time that I realized that I had not actually slept in.  It was Daylight Savings time.

Oops.

I still felt good.

Really good.

I went for a bike ride along the beach.  I got some grocery shopping in.

Actually, a lot of grocery shopping in.  I went to three different stores–SafeWay, Noriega Produce, and Other Avenues.  Each had something I needed to get and I really want to stay with this habit of prepping my food for the week.

It is so helpful.

I actually have opened up my fridge a few times and was tempted to take a photograph of all the goodness.

Homemade chili in Mason jars: grass-fed, organic ground sirloin, browned with organic onion and garlic, hot soaked red and white organic beans (navy and kidney) black olives (I know chili does not typically have black olives, but the version I like the best is my mom’s, shocker, and her’s does include black olives and celery), fire roasted tomatoes, cayenne, chili powder, sea salt, Spike, black pepper, organic beef broth.

I also made a pot of brown rice and then packed it all up, froze two batches of it and canned the rest.

Then there’s organic Japanese sweet potatoes, carrots, the rest of the celery, Earth Balance, Nancy’s Organic plain, non-fat yogurt, organic low-fat string cheese, bottled water, Stumptown coffee in a jar for iced coffees–it’s going to be warm this week–unsweetened vanilla almond milk, organic Omega 3 brown eggs, Veganaise, lemon humus, organic strawberries and black berries, and left over Tom Yum soup from Thai Cottage.

It’s a pretty looking fridge.

I remember once a friend coming over to my house in Madison and being shocked at the amount of food in my fridge, and I was living alone at the time.

My fridge then probably looked something like this: cheese, big block of medium or mild cheddar, gallon of milk, mayonnaise–Hellman’s, the big jar, not the small one, I mean why, sliced turkey sandwich meat, potato bread or maybe wheat bread, but probably potato I liked how soft it was, tomatoes, pickles, iceberg lettuce for the sandwiches, beer, couple of growlers from the Angelic–the Bitter and maybe the Nut-brown, but probably the Bitter, Framboise, eggs, white potatoes for baked potatoes, sour cream, bagels, cream cheese, white tortillas, butter, in the freezer, ice cream, ice, vodka, frozen fruit for making frozen margaritas, on top of the fridge, lots of booze, good stuff, you know, top shelf, I liked to entertain.

In the cupboards boxed cereal, Bisquick, flour, sugar, brown and white and powdered, baking chocolate, white chocolate, cherry preserves, fruit in heavy syrup, chocolate chips and nuts for baking, baking soda, baking powder, maybe oatmeal, but not for breakfast, for baking, table salt, molasses, heavy corn syrup, popcorn.

I was a Midwestern kind of gal.

Now.

Not so much, but there are shades of her still here, and I like that, I don’t need to change that, I can just recall fondly when I would make fried chicken and potato salad and corn on the cob with gobs of butter and salt and chocolate cake and drink a big cold glass of milk with it all.

Then.

A cigarette and a beer or a soda.

I liked Coke.

Not the powder.

That came later.

Part of being pretty is taking care of myself, I know that now, I can see it clearly and as my food continues to be clean I am feeling really good and that to me is noticeable.

Plus the warm weather today did not hurt in the least.

It was glorious to ride my bicycle outside, to run errands, to sit and eat the meal I prepped for the road, had a 6:30p.m. commitment at Church and Market, that I ate with a bottle of sparkling water outside the Church Street Cafe.

Used to be that when I was out exercising I would use that as an excuse to eat whatever I wanted.

I remember going with my ex-boyfriend to the gym, he did not need it he had the metabolism of an angry hummingbird, and then after going to the McDonald’s on East Washington and eating a double quarter-pounder with cheese meal and yes, please supersize the fries, with a coke, easy on the ice.

Blech.

So happy I don’t do that to myself anymore.

It’s Spring around here and I am feeling fit and sassy and sexy and gorgeous.

And it’s ok to say that.

I don’t often acknowledge myself as being attractive.

I could today and I am going to let myself have that feeling and take it with me to bed.

I don’t know what the morrow will bring, so revel in these moments while I can.

I have a tendency to see myself differently, I don’t know if it’s body dysmorphia, could be, I am not one to self-diagnose, but I do know that I don’t have a good perspective on what I look like.

I look like me.

I tend to think that I look like how I feel.

I felt good today, sweet, well rested (even if it was just a trick of Daylight Savings, it worked), and pretty.

Happy.

Serene.

I mean, not much happened, but that’s an ok thing too.

A long bike ride, a home-made meal, sunshine, the swell of the ocean waves as they crumbled over themselves.  I saw a dolphin leap through a wave as I was cycling to the grocery store.

How’s that for scenic?

The ride to the grocery store is along the ocean, I take 46th to Lincoln, hop over to la Playa, then ride along the bike path to the SafeWay.

It’s like when I lived in Paris and I got to see Sacre Couer every time I went to the post office or to hop on the Metro at Anvers.

I live a damn good life.

Maybe that’s it.

My life is gorgeous.

Either way.

I will take it.

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