Soul Thumping

Diet Coke and I Shake Hands Goodbye

Partnerships dissolve everyday and for many reasons.  My reason for initiating the Diet Coke/Amphitrite dissolution?  It was simply time...oh, and:

1.  Panicky trips made to the store on Saturday mornings when I realize I have no Diet Coke in the house, and I just know the clerks at Kroger are shaking their heads in shame at my addiction, are no longer fun.

2.  Poseidon giving me that futile forlorn glance each time I open a can of "Devil Juice" (his pet name for Diet Coke), not to mention the eye-rolling, is no longer fun.

I've been mad at Diet Coke in the past, but never enough to kick it to the curb, completely (there was this one try, but it was half-hearted and I didn't really put in the effort).  Honestly, I've been perfectly happy chugging down little cans of chemicals for years without questioning why, but I just decided to stop.  Not cold turkey, hell no!  I began weaning off Diet Coke two weeks ago.  Last week I was down to 1 little baby Diet Coke per day.

Sunday, I had 3 baby Diet Cokes left in the fridge.  I drank them all that day, and that was that.  I didn't even waste time with a sentimental, "I'm going to miss you old friend" sob fest on can number 3.

Today is day 4, post-dissolution, and I'm not even missing my captor friend, D.C. so I fully trust I won't implode waiting for withdrawal symptoms to pass (I've had none), and I'll move on quickly with little to no scarring.  An added benefit:  I no longer have to endure emails from Poseidon, laced with links to fake articles about Diet Coke turning to formaldehyde in the body.

Again, partnerships dissolve for a variety of reasons.  Sometimes things just don't work out.  I lost interest.  Keep it real, D.C.

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I Learned a New Word, Just in Time for Thanksgiving

Tablescape.  I'm sure the word has been around for a while, but it's new to me.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day, and Poseidon and I are hosting dinner this year.  I'm not crafty, but I do want to spruce up the dining room table.  We haven't eaten at the dining room table in 3 years.  Now that we've removed 27 pounds of clutter from the table (that took an entire Saturday),  I'll go through 3 cans of Pledge tonight, just so the plates actually sit on the table, not floating on 3 inches of dust.

The cats are enjoying the clear table.  It's a new cool place for depositing fur and those clumps of cat litter stuck to their paws.  Dinner at 4!

Here's a tablescape to get you in the Thanksgiving mood...

 

Happy Thanksgiving,
Amphitrite

 

ETA:  My lazy version of tablescaping.  I just didn't have it in me!

 

 

 

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I Fell Off the Diet Coke Wagon

I should clarify.  By fell, I mean, jumped, with deliberate force, off the Diet Coke wagon. My plan for bashing my D.C. addiction, I thought, was a good one.  I would buy the small 7.5 oz. mini cans (or as I like to call them, "baby Diet Cokes") and trick my brain into thinking, by holding onto the cold aluminum can, that I was drinking the normal 12 oz can of garbage and, therefore, I would consume less.

That isn't exactly how this mess played out.  I just drank more baby Diet Cokes.  I actually drank more than before!  I did.  I can't help but wonder if the Coca-Cola Corporation anticipated this happening and kicked me off the wagon before I could travel out of my own driveway?  I feel better having confessed that my Diet Coke habit is still a habit.  I'm trying again, and right now, I'm waiting for the wagon to circle back around and pick me the hell up, but I'm adorably disappointed in myself.

And...because Poseidon refers to Diet Coke as "Devil Juice," and I asked him to add D.C. to the grocery list, this is what I found waiting for me in the kitchen yesterday evening:

Amphitrite

 

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The "Perfect" Sunday - Biking, Good Beer, and Football

Combining three of our favorite things:  Biking, football, and great beer.  We biked 9.5 miles from our driveway to Sadlacks Heros (before they shut their doors in December), had a couple of beers and watched football, then walked next door to Schoolkids Records, spent $60 in CDs, then biked back home.  What a gorgeous day!  What a gorgeous week.  The highlight of this week?  My newly active self (after neck surgery in January) is now at the weight I was in 1995 (this picture was taken last week at the Hopscotch Music Festival 2013):

 

Calling it Quits with Diet Coke...Eventually

I'm not the first person to write about soda addictions, and I won't be the last, but here begins my ridiculous, maudlin plea for sympathy:  I've had a love affair with sodas my entire life.  I want to gag just thinking about this, but I was practically raised on RC Cola.  My family used to drink so much of this stuff that we had stacks and stacks of empty glass returnable RC Cola bottles in our home.  Of course, we didn't call it RC Cola, we called it pop.

When I tried Coke (real Coca-Cola, that is), I never looked back.  It became my 'pop' of choice.  I drank Coke like water, in my teens and early 20s, never realizing how many empty calories I was consuming because I was still a skinny little twig with a kick-ass metabolism.  I needed not worry about such things as calories.  Until around the age of 28.

Even though I was putting on the pounds, I continued to drink Coke like it was a commodity not

Source: nataliedee.com

long for this world.  In 2003, I decided to get serious about losing weight, so I joined a gym.  At that point I was drinking at least 3 or 4 Cokes each day, which was keeping a cushiony 15 pounds on my body each year.  I decided to make the switch to Diet Coke with Lemon (it had just been introduced on the market at that time).  I hated it.  I wanted to throw up after every one.  Stupid me, I just kept drinking them until I grew used to the taste.  Then, I switched to plain old Diet Coke and I haven't stopped.  For the most part, it's been a beautiful relationship -- except that one time I got really mad at D.C. for nearly ruining my overpriced Anthropologie purse!

I am an addict.  I must have a Diet Coke first thing in the morning.  Every morning.  I want to stop.  I chose not to make this a New Year's resolution because I usually don't make resolutions because it's just too much pressure to perform.  I don't need that!

I know D.C. is bad for me.  I do.  Poseidon has emailed many articles to me about the theories of Diet Coke and the havoc it can wreak on one's system.  I've read articles about Diet Coke eventually turning into formaldehyde when inside the body.  I'm a slow learner I suppose because none of this had me scared.

This week, and I don't know why I chose this week, I have started writing my Dear John letter to Diet Coke.  I mean, I'm married, and Diet Coke has so many other hangers on, so this will be the best thing for us both.  I need to close the door permanently, leaving no room for misinterpretation.  Without sounding trite, I wish D.C. nothing but the best for the future.

--Amphritite

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Happy Thanksgiving - Don't Forget the Eggs

Hurray for Thanksgiving, y'all.  I decided earlier this week to make a pumpkin gingerbread trifle to bring to my mother-in-law's Thanksgiving party.  I planned well, or so I thought, and foraged for all the ingredients in the mad house of a grocery store yesterday.  I think pre-Thanksgiving shopping trips can make even the most zen-like being stabby.  Anyway, last night, as I was double-checking the ingredients, I realized I had forgotten eggs for the spice cakes!  I'm now wasting time on my laptop, trying to avoid muster the courage to jump out of my pajamas and into my jeans to go back to the store.  I don't want to.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone in the US, and for those outside the US, sorry you have to work today and tomorrow...we don't!

 

--Amphitrite

 

PS.  Here is the recipe I will attempt...I've never made a trifle before:

You can find the recipe at:  http://www.food.com/recipe/pumpkin-gingerbread-trifle-105081

ETA - I posted this on my Facebook status last night.  If you can make one down-and-out person a little happier today, please do so, even if it's only a smile you can offer:

"Gave money today to a man asking at an intersection. He was probably in his mid to late 60s, well dressed, well groomed, clean complexion, clean hair. I only had $1 (because I never carry cash), but I gave it to him. Because I haven't walked in this man's shoes, I know nil about him, and I won't judge. If my $1 helps him, great, if he is actually an alcoholic, maybe that will contribute to a beer. Everyone deserves to feel ok for a day."

 

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Why Whole Foods in Durham Brings Out the Worst in Me

Whole Foods is great.  I've been to some great Whole Food stores and I like the selection.  The Whole Foods in Durham?  Not so much.  In fact, I'm going to go so far as to say I hate going to the W.F in Durham.  Notice I said I hate going to the store.  The store itself is fine, although way too small compared to other Whole Foods store locations.  The employees at the Durham store are top notch.  Extremely helpful and polite.  I've never met an employee at Whole Foods in Durham who wasn't.

So why does a trip to the Whole Foods of Durham have me wanting to pop back a handful of Valium?  The self-absorbed, entitled, rude, surly, curt, barbarous, devoid of any social skills whatsoever clodpates who shop there.  Oh my God, I feel better already!

Yesterday Poseidon and I made what should have been a quick, uneventful stop at the Durham Whole Foods store to pick up items for his famous burritos.  We weren't in the market 2 minutes (I'm not exaggerating, it wasn't 2 minutes), when the Baroness of Horse Face Bitchville came right down the aisle with her cart and nearly ran me down.  I was stunned because she just kept going.  Admittedly, I'd had a long day and I was cranky so I said, in a voice full of snark, but without too much venom, "Excuse you," with no reply, so I continued on my way to catch up with Poseidon.

Maybe 15 minutes later, she came up to me and said, "Excuse me."  I said, "Thank you" and I meant it, but then she had to start being a bitch mutt.  Most of it to me was, "Blah, blah, blah" until she said, "I've never had such anger sent my way in all my life."  Seriously?  Wow, she should consider herself more fortunate that any soul on the planet if my "excuse you" was the most anger anyone has ever, ZOMG ever directed toward her.  Anyway, my reply, "Well, all you needed to do was be polite and say 'excuse me' when you nearly knocked me down."  She said something else back that only told me she wanted to keep this pointless banter going, but I ignored it and was already turning my attention back to Poseidon (poor Poseidon, the most laid back dude on the planet...and he married me).

So, will I go to the Whole Foods in Durham again?  Of course I will.  Will I run into ogress-mannered shrews?  Undoubtedly, but after this incident I will wash down my Valium with a full glass of water before entering those sliding glass doors on Broad Street.

--Fortuitous Observer

 

Previously published posts on a similar topic you might find interesting:

It's Senior Day at Kroger - Wear Your Chain Maille

The Bread Lady?

Supermarket Grazers and Serendepity

From Pinterest This Week: Prettiest Sushi in a Time Warp

I was an enthusiastic fan of Pinterest initially, but lately I find it to be a huge time suck.  I become visually overstimulated after oohing and ahhing without blinking for unknown blocks of time.  Seriously, like I'm experiencing "lost time" because I've been abducted by aliens.

Today I took a sneak peek back at the old Pinterest site, and I saw some pretty sushi.  That made me want to search for more pretty sushi, so I did.  What happened?  I once again found myself experiencing a Pinterest time slip (I'm singing "The Time Warp" from RHPS in my head right this minute).  Have some sushi:

 

Source: pinterestin.tumblr.com via Cheryl on Pinterest

 

 

 

 

Source: flickr.com via Cheryl on Pinterest

 

 

 

 

 

Source: tumblr.com via Tamara on Pinterest

 

 

 

 

Source: cravecatering.com via CRAVE on Pinterest

 

 

 

And, because that song is still playing in my head, I think I will share that as well...

 

 

--Fortuitous Observer

Do You, Um, Slurp When You Eat?

Last night Poseidon and I ordered Chinese food for dinner.  Poseidon hinted at a lack of energy to cook anything, and I, though not completely in the mood for Chinese, was less in the mood to forage through the pantry or refrigerator to whip up something magical out of freezer-burned frozen edamame and overly ripe olives in the style of Martha Stewart, so Hunan chicken and Poseidon's tofu, delivered to the front door, won out.

I always eat my Chinese food with chopsticks, even at home, because I tend to eat less and slower (slower because after 20+ years of using chopsticks, I still find it damn near impossible to get my food to go directly from chopstick to mouth...I usually take the scenic route:  chopstick to shirt, shirt to mouth), and last night I was starving by the time the food arrived, so I tore into.  I actually caught myself slurping and chewing with my mouth open.  I was a bit startled because I RARELY do this, and here is why:

My father did not like slurping.  I'll be blunt, he did not want to hear any sound coming from anyone while they ate.  Slurping, crunching, sucking, schlurping, chomping, chewing, grinding, gulping...these sounds drove him up the wall and down the other side.  Therefore, meals in my home growing up were the dreams of silent film makers.  "Eating" sounds like these made him leave a room in a fit of rage, like a spastic asylum resident.  On the rare occasion my mom made popcorn, he went all Biblical on us, and I don't mean preaching and quoting scripture, I mean storming mad and yelling like the Apocalypse was upon us.

Last night, when I first heard the slurping noise coming from my mouth, I nearly pissed my pants.  I took a deep breath and looked around.  Oddly enough, Poseidon had not even noticed my blunder.  I breathed a sigh of relief, and laughed inside, a really good laugh!  Why?  Because for a quick second (though my dad has been gone for several years), I imagined him hearing my schlurp, and I should either scurry under the couch or begin my search for earplugs immediately.  Ah, the things we learn in childhood.  Bon appétit.

--Fortuitous Observer

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Just Because We CAN, Doesn't Mean We HAVE to Red Velvet Everything, Especially Edgar Allan Poe

Having never tried red velvet cake, it seems odd that I would be writing on the subject, but today I'm compelled (more like propelled) to mention this curious cake because recipes are all over Pinterest, and because red velvet cake seems to be so boring now compared to red velvet cheesecake.  Red velvet cheesecake?  Ha, that is so 6 days ago!  Just wait til you see what you can "red velvet!"  I must be so far behind the sundial, but if one is craving a red velvet pancake, or onion rings...that ache can be satisfied, and yes, we can even red velvet Edgar Allan Poe.

 

OK, The normal red velvet cake...

Source: feelhungry.com via Dona (Chicken Giggles) on Pinterest

 

 

 

If that beet root/red food colored cake or cheesecake aren't enough, maybe some red velvet brownies?

Source: newlyweds-blog.com via Jenny Ka'ai'ohelo on Pinterest

 

 

 

Fair enough, the brownies aren't a wide stretch...breakfast anyone?  We've got a velvet for that!  Pancakes.

Source: hesthegaygourmet.blogspot.com via Jammie on Pinterest

 

 

 

Of course, if pancakes are in the spotlight, waffles must have their turn, and oh look, here they are...red velvet waffles:

Source: eatingwelllivingthin.wordpress.com via Joya on Pinterest

 

 

 

I don't even know what the hades a whoopie pie is, but you can have it "redded" if that is the way you play.

Source: sweetpeaskitchen.com via Kendra on Pinterest

 

 

 

Here we go, for the love of all things literary and creepy, it's a red velvet Edgar Allan Poe cake.

Source: sprinklebakes.com via Sally on Pinterest

 

 

 

Marie Antoinette would say we may as well have our cake and drink it too kiddos.  Yes, you've guess it:  red velvet cake martinis.

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Source: tablespoon.com via Kia on Pinterest

 

 

As you can see, I wasted spent a great deal of time on Pinterest researching this, and can we please stop the madness of it all?  OK, the above red velveted items aren't necessarily offensive, I mean Edgar Allan Poe would probably be morbidly intrigued by this, but do we have to turn everything into a red velvet nightmare?  I'll leave you with these last two culinary plates of vomit while I talk myself off the ledge of our conference table:

 

Red velvet cheese ball.  I don't know if this is a dessert or an abomination.

Source: tasteandtellblog.com via Brandon on Pinterest

 

 

 

This has slaughtered and jumped over the carcass of absurdity, and for those saying, "don't judge," too late ok, to each his/her own--red velvet onion rings.

Source: awesomelyluvvie.com

--Fortuitous Observer