I dream of clear glowing skin and the desire to HAVE the desire for wheat germ.

So every now and then, I go through these weird cycles where I make a silent vow to myself that I will eat healthy, exercise and consume my 64 ounces of H2O. I was reading an article about a certain celebrity who is known for her gorgeous skin, sparkling eyes, glossy hair, and abs sharp enough to use as a carving knife. She talked about her diet of goat food(green leaves), combined with a diet of bird food (seeds and such), and lots of water. So, fueled with a burning optimism for an overnight lifestyle overhaul, I stop by at the local grocery store after work, and like a woman fueled by a mission, roll my cart military style, down aisle after aisle of grains and nuts and leaves. I even make a quick stop at 'Wild Oats' to stock up on Biotin, and raw organic oats...AND essential eucalyptus oil to sooth the soul. Because after all, a relaxed mind and meditation go hand in hand with good diet and exercise, right? As soon as I get home, I burn some eucalyptus oil, throw in a soft relaxing CD, and start making a salad. I then sigh, dreamy eyed as the soothing smell of eucalyptus starts to fill the kitchen, and the bowl of salad starts filling up with a bright colorful display of wholesome healthy goodness. 'Yes, lets throw in the walnuts...Omega 3, great! A handful of carrots...carotene, awesome! Spinach...a good source of iron, beautiful!'....and then...I am suddently reverted back to reality as my 2 year old comes into the kitchen shrieking, and making an assortment of demands which I try to meet, but all in vain. As I scoop him up and make my way to the bedroom, I notice a half eaten salad on the kitchen counter! 'There is always tomorrow', I say trying to console myself.

So dear friends...today was a start of a beautiful new day. I woke up early and during my morning commute to work, made a hasty stop at the nearest Starbucks for a Grandé Mocha, and a ginormous slice of chocolate hazelnut cake. That's what I call a healthy lifestyle overhaul, people!

Halloween

So it's getting close to that time of the year again- the time where I run around at the very last minute (like a chicken with the head cut off), looking for a halloween costume for my little munchkin AND buy candy for the cutsie wootsie other little munchkins that show up trick or treatin' at the door. Can there be ONE Halloween where I have the outfit and candy purchased on time....before the markup on the crazy costumes is so bizarre that you would rather spend that dough on a new tile job in the guest bathroom (so I stretch the truth sometimes, by just a little bit)???

headline news! old folder leads to shocking discovery. (not really)

I was cleaning out an old folder the other day and came across a tattered old notebook full of poems and sketches. I should mention that back in the day, I thought I was quite the the poet. I should also mention this, that we are talking about a time span when I was around 11 or so. Imagine, as an 11 year old, I was convinced that I would someday be a poet, or a writer....or an artist. Well I guess that dream of someday becoming a poet or a writer or an artist never materialized. As a 29 year old, I still do not know what I want to be when I grow up. Ha!

Back to the notebook full of poems. It amazes me how I even came up with half the stuff that I wrote about. Most of it does not make much sense to me now. Perhaps it made sense to an 11 year old at the time, who had high aspirations. Hmm.. to have aspirations, to believe in yourself to the point that you feel as though the sky is the limit, and you can be who you want to be, or do what you want to do. Unfortunately, I don't remember what that feels like!(I'm obviously talking about a world void of all corporate glass ceilings!). I really need to search for that 11 year old again... The magnitute of the faith that I once had in myself has been reduced to a mere flicker (as far as aspirations go).

So poetry of an 11 year old. Here is a poem that specifically caught my attention and somehow, got stuck in a certain folder, tucked away in that one corner of my brain (yes, that one!), that decides to save certain snippets of my life in files that tend to self refresh, periodically (I know, makes absolutely NO sense):

Darkness surrounds me
No light to be seen
Perched up on a large rock
My mood, is set to grim
Looking up at the sky
I see a star gleam
Just like a jeweled pendant
As if by fire lit
Staring at it now and then
Do I see it wink?
So bright is its shine
That no one can call it dim
Oh, I pray lord
What is it?

Hmm...rocks, stars, winking stars?? The mind of an 11 year old!

Fried eggs

I know I know....it is supposed to be a cardinal sin against the proprietaries of blogosphere to go through a list of your breakfast menu. If I knew any better, I really WOULD stay away from it. But you see, I'm sure I can create an exception here. The thing about Ramadan is...you have breakfast (at 5:00 am), but you wish you did not have to eat it. But if you actually didn't eat it, then everything and everyone starts to look dangerously delicious before the day reaches its half way mark- especially cute little pink toddler toes! So here I am, blogging away in the early hours of the am, when I should actually be asleep, because it IS Saturday morning afterall, and isn't that supposed to be the only holy of all holy days for lazy folks like me who love to sleep in till noon, until an exasperated husband or a toddler for that matter, pulls the sheets off of your curled up, limp form, AND turns the fan on in early winter/late fall and leave you cursing under your breath which forces you to fiiiinally roll off on to the floor with a thud. But, wait- I have a feeling that I've gone off on a tangent here. Back to Saturday mornings and the fact that I should be snuggled up in a warm bed, with a warm blanket, and against a nice warm someone... But hey, I already tried doing that. It really does not work too well to go to sleep right after having a paratha packed with butter and drizzled with still MORE butter- especially when your dinner from the night before is still hopping around in the tummy tum tum. I think I need a TUMS.

An awkward situation- EEK!

So what happens when lets assume for the sake of conversation (or a blog post), that you are divided into groups in a big conference hall(seating around 300 people) and supposedly involved in a discussion, and when the note taker in your group is asked to stand up and voice the group's so called opinions, he/she keeps sitting, crosses arms around waist, and refuses to get up, while everyone else stares back in awkward silence?
Do you:
A. Make a dash for the restroom and stay there and wait for the world to come to an end?
B. Slowly stand up and walk away and pretend you were never a part of the group?
C. Do nothing and wish you could have been the note taker instead?