I really hope everyone had a lovely weekend (bitter tone alert). It is so cold here that my hair froze into an Edward Scissorshandsian sculpture upon emerging from the gym this afternoon, where I had to Drag (with a capital D, yes) my tush through my workout. You'd think that my Saturday night Dinner of Champions - two glasses of red wine, a plate of steamed spinach with parm, some leftover bean soup and about a quarter of a small chocolate smileyface cake (thanks, Mom!) would have loaded my muscles up with glycogen but noooo - I felt sapped. I think it may have to do with the fact that I've been on this clean-eating, anti-inflammatory plan lately (lots of fruits and veggies, salmon, almonds, flax seed, yogurt and very little sugar) which has me feeling like Michael Pollan's long-lost niece...in a good way. Case in point: For a pre-breakfast meal, I've been making the following smoothie (give me the benefit of the doubt, here, OK? I do have taste buds and am a total freak):
1 cup frozen mango or frozen blueberry
1 frozen banana
2-3 cups raw spinach
water and ice
I actually busted out the blender Dan and I got for our wedding four-and-a-half years ago...but never used...and taught myself how to use it. I know what you're thinking: "Leslie is so smart to be drinking icy smoothies in the dead of winter!" Thank you. Timing could be better but you know, my injuries have stinky timing and the bulging disk and carpal tunnel came when they did so now I'm trying to tackle the sitch from all angles, A (anti-inflammatory foods) to Xi (acupuncture!) The above recipe is truly fruity and delish - if you can get over the fact that it looks like guac in a mug, it will serve you well.
In other (really, non-)news, tell me if this sounds a wee bit crazy to you: I was at brunch with my family Saturday morning and I ordered an omelet. I asked for it to be cooked in Pam. The waitress informed my they do not use Pam, but no worries, their oil is trans fat-free. And you know what? I didn't care. To me, unless it's olive oil and I want to taste the EVOO in some way, I'd rather not have fried eggs-disguised-as-omelet. Even if the cook (who, if my time as an IHOP waitress taught me anything, likely has a tattoo of a tear drop beneath his eyelid and considers two sausage links to be health food simply because they're not three) only used a few spoonfuls - and we all know that ain't the case, but to humor the Gods of Hypotheticality, even if - that would still be like adding a candy bar's worth of fat to my breakfast. And I'd really rather just have the candybar. But my husband peered over at me with a "C'mon, lay off the psycho ordering once" look and I felt my parents stiffen across the table so I just took it. Very un-me, I know.
Would you have settled? You know, to avoid being That Girl? Did I give up too easily or should this be viewed as a positive step towards my elaborate Stop Being a Nut Job About Eating Out project, est 1995?
In other news, I just read an inane story about Eva Longoria saying "Bye-bye" (not my words, clearly) to these 10 mythical pounds that have been landing her in the tabloids with headlines like "Desperate to be pregnant?" What spurred her along? (Besides, I mean, the fact that national magazines were making fun of her for weighing more than a large dog?) That would be the infamous Skinny Bitch book, which created a frenzy a few years back when Posh Spice was seen looking at it in some expensive store and the paparazzi took a pic. The thing is not a diet, even, but a diatribe filled with hardcore anti-meat rhetoric. Alas, fear not - Eva hasn't said adios to her chorizo...she's just stepped up her cardio to 3-4 days a week.
(BTW True story: A bum once asked me for change while I was living in Boystown, Chicago’s gay district. I said, “No, thanks,” because I was trying to be polite. And as I passed, he mumbled, “Skinny bitch.” I remember being both taken aback but also a bit confused. Was this an insult? Yes, I’m pretty sure. But, as my retro 50’s-style magnet reads with a wink, “You say I’m a bitch like it’s a bad thing.”)
ALSO - will the following commenters please email me at firstname.lastname@example.org? Good news for you ladies! If I don't hear from you by Thursday 12/25/08, you forfeit your excitement :-)
Any yes, I know hypotheticality is not a real word. It's called artistic license, people. Get used to it.