Soul Thumping

The Hippest, Coolest, Drooliest, Grooviest Teacups I Can Find

Now that Poseidon has gotten his way, and I'm substituting one Diet Coke everyday with a cup of tea (don't be silly, I'm not giving up my diet sodas completely--just yet, but I am trying to cut down), I find I'm severely lacking in the "cool mug" department.  I can't earnestly continue drinking tea from a boring cup everyday.  If it is to become a new habit, I have to embrace it with every fiber of my being, and I simply cannot see myself doing so without being outfitted with a hot looking teacup, pronto.

I live on the edge, which means I drink my Diet Coke straight from the can, so I've never bothered myself with finding a hip beverage vessel.  It was a good run while it lasted. 

Taking the bull by the proverbial horns, last week I began my mission:  To find myself a tea mug that makes me want to run, not walk, to the hot water dispenser.  Now the tricky part of my objective...choosing.

 

Bunny Blossom via Click for Art - I'm sad because this teacup and saucer makes me smile, but it is currently sold out : (

 

 

 

This Tokidoki tea set is also sold out, and it was my 2nd fave...boo, hiss:

 

 

guzzini from redcandy.com - now this is a bit funky!

 

 

Now for something really different...the skase teacup, based on the idea of symbiosis:

 

 

This jumbo teacup and saucer from T2 looks a bit like something my grandmother had around when I was a kid:

 

Electric Flowers...this may be my favorite teacup, but it comes in a set of four cups.  I am accident prone, so 3 backup mugs may be a good idea?

 

 

 

 

 

Miam.miam Fall Retro Mug - I like the funky shape of this tea mug...this one goes on the strongly considering list:

 

 

 

 

Paperproducts Design Geodome tea mugs.  I heart the retro pattern and colors:

 

 

Awww, Cat Yixing Tea Mug:

Ugggghhhh.  Too many choices and I hate making such important decisions.

 

--Fortuitous Observer

 

 

 

 

The MOST Decadent Foods on Pinterest this Week

I knew deep down that I might be a scopophiliac, and Pinterest confirms it flatly.  I mean, holy canoli.  I am addicted to Pinterest, eyes glazing over as I peruse the "pins" of friends and perfect strangers.  Admitting it feels wonderful, yet I have no plans to join a 12-step program for my fixation.  Keep reading...here is what I found.

This week was about food for some reason, and I found the most incredible edibles, the kind that make ones head hurt from the sugar rush obtained merely by glancing at the pictures.

Any moment of any day this week, logging onto Pinterest yielded the most amazing display of beyond decadent desserts.  Every sense is on overload and I must have, make, stare at these sinful looking things.  I know I (more than likely) won't attempt to make any of these over-the-top recipes because Poseidon and I do not eat many sweets, but I cannot take my eyes off these obnoxiously delicious looking pins:

 

Strawberry cupcakes with almond butter cream (seriously!):

Source: aroundmyfamilytable.com via Desiree on Pinterest

 

 

 

Peanut Butter Cup Chocolate Cake Cheesecake (this should be illegal):

Source: sprinklebakes.com via Carly on Pinterest

 

 

 

 

Steamed Chocolate Pudding Cake (quite simply, yum):

Source: notsohumblepie.blogspot.com via Candice on Pinterest

 

 

 

 

Cupcake In a Jar (for the love of Pete!):

Source: mycakies.blogspot.com via Nicole on Pinterest

 

 

 

 

Pink Ombre Cake (this is, frankly, too pretty to eat...it should be a dress or something):

Source: yellowdoor.tumblr.com via Laura on Pinterest

 

 

 

 

Red Velvet Pancakes (yes, pancakes...Poseidon may find these on a plate on Sunday):

Source: thebreakfastcook.com via christineleigh on Pinterest

 

 

 

 

Dulce de Leche Filled Banana Cupcakes with Browned Butter Cream Cheese Frosting (OMG...there is nothing else to say):

Source: bigredkitchen.com via Karen on Pinterest

 

 

 

--Fortuitous Observer

 

 

 

 

 

Things I Found Aesthetically Pleasing Today - Day 15 Thanksgiving Cornucopia

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and I find this Thanksgiving cornucopia to be aesthetically pleasing today, especially the splash of purple from the eggplant!  Happy Thanksgiving everyone!  Blog at you next week.

 

Photo from Flickr, posted by Lawrence OP

 

--Fortuitous Observer

 

Things I Found Aesthetically Pleasing Today - Day 6 Oh Pretty Sushi

Sushi.  What can I say.  It's an acquired taste I acquired it many years ago and I haven't looked back.  I'm fond of sushi rolls (and of course, here in in the south, deep-fried sushi rolls can be found on most menus, and I have to tell you, they are quite delectable), mostly anything spicy, tuna or salmon, but I also love great fresh salmon nigiri!  Aesthetically speaking, sushi isn't just about the taste but the presentation and I came across this image after googling "pretty sushi" and it certainly is pretty.  I will of course give the original poster the credit (thank you to blogger snowlady).

 Yummy, yummy sushi.  You will be in my dreams tonight.

 

--Fortuitous Observer

Oatmeal and Peanut Butter Make for a Happy Breakfast

In 2009 I blogged about a spoonful of peanut butter for breakfast because that was my choice for the all-important first meal of the day, and I had nothing better to write about that morning than what I ate for breakfast.  I then added half a banana to the mix and breakfast became a spoonful of peanut butter and half of a banana.  I christened this my "Elvis Breakfast" for kicks.

Recently I read an online article, published by Redbook I believe, that discusses foods that can improve mood.  The witty title of the article is "Happy Meals" and I found it to be an enlightening piece, especially for those of us trying to get a handle on stress, lousy moods, or anxiety and depression.

Desiring another tool for my arsenal against my own anxiety, I decided to make a conscious effort to incorporate some of these foods into my diet.

But wait, peanut butter is not on the happy list!  "Okay," I thought, my breakfast plan is going to have to change.  Peanut butter, I will miss you, but as it turns out, the first peppy food on the list is oatmeal and I like oatmeal.  Another trick I've added to my repertoire of defensive against anxiety/depression is to cut out as many preservative-filled foods as possible.  I had purchased the Weight Watchers brand oatmeal, but it left a strange after taste in my mouth (I could be wrong, but it probably contains aspartame or another sugar substitute), so I nixed the WW brand and switched to Mom's Best Naturals Better Oats brand.  I stumbled upon this brand in the "Natural" section of my grocery store.

This oatmeal for breakfast routine was working very well, then I remembered another goodie on the good food list, walnuts, so I started tossing some walnuts in my oatmeal to liven up the party.

Even though I had embraced my new breakfast plan, I began missing my spoonful of peanut butter and my half of a banana in the mornings.  Last week I had a flash of brilliance (which does not happen often):  oatmeal and walnuts are good for the brain and the body, and peanut butter and bananas are good for the body (even if they failed to make the cut for the "happy list"), so why not marry them, creating a breakfast of ambrosial harmony?

So I did.  My oatmeal is now sprinkled with walnuts and bananas, and I have a teaspoonful of peanut butter every other day with my oatmeal.  Me, my oatmeal, my peanut butter, and my half of a banana are blissfully happy!

 

--Fortuitous Observer

 

Today, I'm Revisiting The Kingdom of Spaz

Growing up, I'd heard the word "spaz," most frequently it was because someone was calling another someone a "spaz" and I was never sure, really, what that term meant, but it didn't stop me from using it, calling my sister or a friend or my little brother a spaz when I felt like it.

I had not been called a spaz myself until my friend Betsy called me a spaz.  I was 21 I believe, and she was 25.  She was teaching English to pre-school children in Japan, and I was visiting her for a few days.  We took the train to Kyoto to visit the touristy Shogun house.  She bought her ticket, and while she waited at the side, I bought mine.  I fumbled for my Yen, and finally gave it to the cashier selling the tickets, and when she game me back my change, I was in such a hurry to get out of other people's way, that I fumbled around again to put the change away, dropped half of it on the ground, fumbled around on the ground to retrieve my coins, when Betsy said, "You are such a Spaz."  I knew what it meant then!  I WAS being a spaz.

I was not aware of this about myself until she said it, and I totally got it.  Spaziness is being so flustered, usually, at least in my case, because one is insecure about what they are doing, or trying not to look as if you don't know what your are doing, etc., that you make guffaws all over the place, dropping things, like a blundering idiot!  That was me!  I became more conscious of this, and forced myself to slow down, and that it doesn't matter if you don't always know what you are doing.  Who cares?  I was able to take that to heart and live life as a non-spaz.

Last weekend, Pat was doing something goofy, in too big of a  hurry, etc. and I told him, "You are a spaz.  I'm just telling you for your own good so that you know what you are doing, just like someone once told me."  I meant it to be helpful of course, but I suppose calling ones spouse a "spaz" to his face isn't going to be received as "helpful."  Nevertheless, I felt it was time he knew.

Today, I decided to bring my lunch outside, along with my laptop and do some writing in the fabulous late summer air.  It was a gorgeous day so I sat outside next to the man-made river that runs through my business campus.  I brought my antipasto salad and some water with me.  A gentle breeze blew, but not too much.  I spread out my salad, my fork, and my napkin.  As I was removing the lid to my salad, my napkin blew off of the table.  I put my fork down and went to chase it.  I began eating again, when I dropped an olive on my new dress.  Fortunately I was able to lift it from my dress so carefully, like I was performing surgery, that it left no spot on the dress!  Yeah.  I was busy congratulating myself, when I accidentally knocked my entire salad bowl off the table and into my lap.

Oh God, now what.  I was afraid to move, but I gently stood up and flicked the salad back into the bowl, and looking at my frock to inspect the damage, there was almost no remnants of olive, olive oil or lettuce!  It could have been so much worse.

Even though the outcome was tolerable, it doesn't change the fact that today, I reverted back to my own spaziness.  The spaz I thought I had left behind long ago still exists inside of me.  I'm unsure if I should laugh or cry, so I think I'll just say,"Hello old friend.  How have you been?"

 

--Fortuitous Observer

Creepy Cats Creeping

My title being an example of alliteration is purely by accident, but I was observing our two cats a few moments ago and it jumped squarely into my brain and would not budge, so I had to start writing.

When Poseidon and I come home from work in the evening, we split a can of wet cat food between our two cats.  Though I personally find the smell and texture of canned cat food nauseating, this is a fabulous feast for them.  They have a bowl of dry food that sits out all day, every day, which I'm sure is boring, so when that tin of wet food snaps open, those cats run at it like junkies who have just spotted a crack dealer on the corner.  Whether it's Poseidon or myself who arrives home first, as soon as the door opens, they circle like a pack of hungry wolves, wanting that sweet (I personally can't vouch for the taste, but they really like it, so I'll use "sweet" to describe the stuff) treat they know is coming any minute and they literally cry (ok, meow) until the food is placed in front of them.

On Saturday and Sunday, they are always a bit confused when chow time actually occurs, but they begin their assault around 2pm in the afternoon.  I suppose when you do nothing all day except sleep, eat, and poo, it is easy to develop a faulty sense of time, so whether its 2pm or 6pm, it doesn't really matter...to them, it is Fancy Feast o'clock.

I swear, they have a detailed map, with their battle stations plotted and well-armed.  They take turns slinking on the carpet, bellies to the rug, inching closer, and closer.  Each time I look up, they are a few inches closer to us than they were the minute before.  They stop, like statues.  I doubt they are even breathing.  They are simply waiting and watching, daring each other to get a little nearer.  If they have our attention, we will remember something very, very important.  What is it again?  Oh, yeah, FEED US!!! 

Kwinn lets Kat do the dirty work, and then he looks at her like, "See, I told you they weren't going to feed you yet."  Then minutes later he gives her the look, like, "Go try it again, go try it now."  Kat even goes so far as to jump up on the sofa next to us and start poking us with one paw (I'm not kidding) and meowing.  If we ignore her, she flits away, only to try again within minutes.

The last time this happened, I came up with a brilliant counter-attack.  When Kat jumped up on my lap and poked me, I poked her back.  She was stunned.  Completely mystified.  She looked at my finger, and her belly where I poked her, then looked at me again as if to ask, "What the hell was that?"  I stared at her, she stared at me a bit more, then she jumped down, walked over to Kwinn, rubbed up against him as if to say, "Tag, your it," then flopped down to take a nap.

For just a few blissful moments, I deluded myself into thinking Poseidon and I were actually in charge of this household, until hunger won out in the end, and Kat re-armed and hit her target:  my cheek with her sharp paw.  Resistance is futile.  Bon appétit kitties.

 

--Fortuitous Observer

Baskin Robbins Contributed to my Neurosis...Sort of

Dear mint chocolate chip ice cream.  I blame you for the start of my anxiety problems...

When I was 8 or 9, I discovered Baskin Robbins.  Baskin Robbins 81 Flavors of ice cream (OK, it was actually 31 flavors, but for a kid of that age, 31 flavors was more than my little mind could comprehend...if it was more than 5, it didn't matter if the number was 31 or 81).  It was one of the occasional treats that my parents could afford, so of course I cherished every precious minute I spent in one of those parlors.

Each time we went into the B&R store, I didn't even have to put my greasy little fingers on or breathe on those bewitching glass cases filled with rows of dazzling, creamy, sugary (we can't forget the sugar) vats of decadent delight (at that age, decadent wasn't a part of my vocabulary, but I'm telling this tale as a 40-something and that word describes the scene beautifully).  I knew exactly what I wanted:  mint chocolate chip.

We didn't go to Baskin Robbins often, but each trip started out the same:  I would sit in the car, already knowing I wanted mint chocolate chip, I would stare into space and beat myself up mentally for not trying any one of the the other 30 flavors.  I would try to talk myself into trying another flavor.  It seemed wrong to always choose the same when there were so many other flavors screaming out, "Try me, try me!"  I used to actually become anxious and nervous and upset with myself for not trying a new flavor.  I know, it is strange, but if you've read my blog before, you know all about my anxiety issues.

I sometimes convinced myself to try something else like the bubble gum or the rasperry, but 9 times out of 10, it was mint chocolate chip, and a ride home filled with self-loathing, and repudiation seemed natural.

Of course, I hadn't realized I did this to myself as a child until recently.  I don't eat ice cream so much now, but Poseidon and I were repainting our bedroom a mint green shade and it all came flooding back like a massive crack in the Hoover dam.

Last weekend, while running some errands, we walked by a Ben & Jerry's store.  As mentioned earlier, I don't really ever have a strong desire for ice cream, but I told Poseidon I wanted a milk shake.  I walked into the store, full of resolve.  I would end my childhood anxiety over ice cream once and for all.  I took a deep breath, and without looking into those charming, captivating cases, I responded to "Hey, how can I help you?" with "I'll have a mint chocolate chip milkshake please."

 

--Fortuitous Observer

 

 

A 'Slice of Life'...or at Least a Bagel

Poseidon and I were in line at one of our favorite deli/bagel joints in Chapel Hill, and the folks in front of us seemed a little slow on the ordering, but we were patient and as I browsed the deli menu above the squeaky clean counter I noticed Reuben on the menu!  A Reuben is one of my favorite sandwiches and I was so excited that I shouted out loud, "Ooh, look, Reuben!  I want a Reuben!"  Just as I finished my sentence, the guy in line ahead of us said, "I'll have a Reuben."  Wow, I'm a trendsetter now!

The gentleman behind the bagel counter asked the guy if he wanted a regular Reuben or a turkey Reuben.  He was quiet for a bit, then he said in his inside voice so as not to be heard (or so he thought), "I don't know, what does a Reuben usually have on it?"  Hmmm.  OK, this is the south, and a Reuben is more of a northern sandwich, so I wasn't going to write him off as a weirdo yet.  The employee explained to him what a Reuben is and the guy said he would have the "regular" kind instead of turkey.  The only person I will excuse for ordering a turkey Reuben when a regular Reuben is on the menu is Poseidon, and not because he is my husband but because he is a vegetarian.

Anyway, the couple then moved to the side as Poseidon and I ordered (I changed my mind...I had the tuna melt instead of the Reuben), as the couple quietly discussed the bagel case and all the many wondrous flavors and smells.  The woman (the other half of this couple) became excited and nearly screamed, "Look, they have that walnut spread..." only it came out like this..."Luk, thay haave thaat wollnut spray-ed."  Now folks, I'm not making fun of her accent, because I have a strange little accent myself.  I began to get a better picture of this couple.  I doubt (and again, I am NOT making fun of these people, I'm truly not) either one had gone further than the 6th grade in school.

The woman went back to the counter and told the poor kid taking orders that she would also like walnut spread.  He gave her a look and then asked what kind of bagel she wanted.  She was so confused she nearly had a meltdown and whispered to her husband/boyfriend/brother, I'm not sure what the relationship was between them (he called her Shirley).  He then spoke up and said, "I think she wants that cinnamon thing."  The guy asked if she wanted it toasted, and again, meltdown number two.  She didn't know how to answer.

She began asking questions which led me to believe they had never seen a bagel before.  After a lengthy explanation that you put the spread (a.k.a. cream cheese) on the bagel, they finally ordered a bagel with cream cheese to go with their Reuben (and apparently she had ordered an omelet before Poseidon and I arrived).  She then asked the guy behind the counter if she could write a post-dated check, which he promptly refused, so they dug up some money between them, extremely embarrassed.

Poseidon and I sat down with our tuna melts, in silence, as I contemplated the entire scene that had taken place here at the bagel shop.  These two were a real 'slice of life.'  I thought, how is it possible in this day and age that people are still so sheltered from the modern day rat race we call life?  That isn't a judgement on them, not at all.  It's almost envy.

Life must be extremely innocent and uncomplicated for them...I was happy (and I'll be honest, quite amused) to have witnessed this episode, and I'll never be able to order another Reuben (or bagel) as long as I live without feeling a little smile for these two stretching across my face.

 

--Fortuitous Observer

 

I Ate a Dog Biscuit

Yup, I truly  did.  I'm visiting my sister and her husband for the weekend, and their dog, Sasha, had a birthday recently and they bought her a large dog cookie to celebrate.  I looked at this thing, which was the size of my head, covered with frosting that looked so yummy I had no choice but to break a piece off and chow down.

This dog biscuit/cookie was awesome.  It tasted a bit like a ginger snap.  A little drier than I would have liked, and had the cold hard fact that it was a dog biscuit not hit me in the face, I would have grabbed a glass of milk, dunked the cookie in and finished the thing.  I'm serious.

--Fortuitous Observer