Stiletto-phobia

Stiletto-phobia, n: The unhealthy, obsessive, anxiety ridden fear of not being able to sashay successfully in a shoe heeled 3 inches or more. The sudden reservation to cancel all plans due to feeling less than fancy huh. 

I'm not a diva I'm not I'm not a diva

Streamlined. Sexy. Arched. 5 inches. Ankled strapped. Sequined. Shiny. Platformed heeled. I want to love you. I really do. I want to channel Carrie on a New York street. I want my inner Kimora Lee to take over and strut her stuff. I want a mean shoe game or at least a slightly disgruntled one.

*Sigh*

I am a jeans and tee shirt girl to the marrow. I rock comfort all day son!

In my dreams

I'm waiting for my Fairy Drag Queen to sprinkle some diva dust on my arches. I need it badly because as much as I want to, my feet ain't made for walking in these things. 

True story. The hubby & I went away for our first Valentines Day weekend. I tried desperately to get all kinds of sexified for him for our dinner reservations at a Creole restaurant right near the hotel. My hair, flawless. My face, sparkling. My attire, hugging all the right curves. My shoes pointy toed black leather stiletto mules. In the store and standing for all of three minutes flossing in the try on mirror I was the shyt. Walking from our suite to the restaurant I was a wobbly mess. Ned the wino walked straighter than me.

I am not exaggerating when I tell you that my legs gave out, that my knees said, "where are our sneakers", and that I took several breaks holding on to my future hubby praying to Oprah that he would not laugh at me. The.  Most. Embarrassing. Night. Ever!

I am not exaggerating when I tell you that in the cold February air with remnants of snow still on the ground I took those shoes off and walked my panty-hosed feet to the restaurant entrance. I am not kidding when I tell you that after putting the shoes back on to walk from the hostess stand to our table that I held on to people eating their meals as I walked by and fell...FELL...into my seat. 

I am not exaggerating when I tell you that I nursed my glass of wine careful not to fill my bladder because God forbid I had to leave the table and put those awful shoes back on. 

Maybe? Nawl!

I have a closet full of shoes that I can only wear in my dreams. I swear on Beyonce's freakum dress I stay trying to pull off a pair of them. I do all kinds of squats and calf stretches to build up my leg muscles. It don't matter. My bestie says my feet aren't rough enough. She thinks I need a few callouses and bunions. How the hell am I supposed to do that? 

I'm doomed to a life of wedges and kitten heels. 

I'd like to take a moment to apologize to all the shoe fiends, Lanvins, Louboutins, and Choos of the world to the Chinese Laundry, Jessica Simpson, and Steve Maddens of the world. It's not you. It's me. 

I'm scurred and I quit.

Did I mention I wore sneakers up until 5 minutes before I said my wedding vows?

The Most Deeply Seeded Racist Fear Mongering Crap I've Ever Witnessed

Disclaimer: I make a point not to discuss certain facets of my life on this blog. Those facets include the following: Sex, Religion & Politics. I do this because 1) It's more personal that this personal blog could explain & 2) I want the tone of this blog to uplift & connect us. I want my readers to find the commonalities between us rather than the issues that divide us. I want them to have a moment reading my blog and say, "Hey that happened to me" or "OMG I remember when...." My #1 goal has always been to make each a bit lovelier than the one before and to smooth the rough patches when I can. 

That said I can no longer ignore the most recent & current attacks on our President. I will say that I am not a Republican, but close family members are. I have however voted for Republican candidates based on their take on issues I consider important to my state. I will say flat out my political leanings are more progressive than most but many of my views are moderately conservative. All of these things said I am hurt, disgusted, embarassed, and down right angry at the treatment of our President Barack Hussein Obama.

While I never subscribed to the belief of a post-racial America (it doesn't exist) I did subscribe to the idea of hope. I hoped that the people of this country would strive harder to realize that we all want the same for ourselves and our families. I hoped that we could work toward the issues that plague us; economy woes, health care concerns, lack of job growth, building our infrastructure, etc. I hoped that the mere sight of President Obama would inspire us all to dream a bigger dream for ourselves.

Sadly the political winds have shifted and blew in a sh*t storm. I have never in my life seen a President so disrespected simply for being the President and I voted and debated with others during President Clinton's second term in office. I witnessed his attempt and failure of a national health care plan. I had friends who were furloughed when his congress shut down. And of course most us remember his defiling of the Oval Office and subsequent impeachment proceedings.

I watched people get all right winged on the former President's ass. So I understand. I would love to think that the President it being treated just as the 43 others before him and that this is all politics as usual but it's not. In this so-called post-racial America the rhetoric spewing is some of the most deeply seeded racist fear mongering crap I've ever witnessed.

I have so much more to say but my rage won't allow me to articulate it. I clearly don't write well when I'm pissed. So I'll ask one question before I give Goldie the floor. 

Since we can agree that small grass root changes are effective (ask those in the Civil Rights Movement & the Tea Party) what small change(s) can you make to take a stand against blatant bigotry?

Boycotting certain TV shows, products, hotels, etc. may be a good start. I'm just sayin'.

Please watch!!! A piece from Goldie Taylor contributing editor, TheGrio.com via Rachel Maddow:

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

The Hubby's Ravens Man Cave Takeover

Once upon a time this was our family room. We watch movies. We play games. It automatically replaces the kitchen as the center of our home whenever we have parties & gatherings. It was a great family room. It was my idea to paint the walls chocolate to hug us as we cozied up on the sofa. It was my idea to make one wall sports themed, the TV wall movie themed, and the left wall music themed. However, over the last few years the hubby has gradually hijacked the space and turned it into a Ravens Man Cave.

I can't tell you what came first the Ravens picture or the Ravens frog. I only know that one day I went to watch a movie and was forced to walk over a Ravens door mat & turn on the light using the Ravens light switch plate. I don't know when these things arrived. I do know that the Ravens football was a gift for Dood. I don't think he's allowed to play with it. Dood also had a toy basket in there as well. It was removed. Poor Dood. And poor Fidge. I think she has to ask permission to have friends over now. 

I also used to wear the jersey that's now encased on the wall...I think...he has so many Ravens jerseys. Oh & signed helmets...we all swore on a stack of purple & black bibles that we would never ever touch them or look them in the eye. 

But all is not lost. I still have my own space in our home too. 

Nice corner right? LOL!!

I'm not sure what else he can add to this space. But I'm sure you all have a few ideas. Let'em rip in the comments below!!

5 Things That Men Need to Know...With Love

My girlfriends & I have had waaaaaaaay too many conversations about men. If I had a dollar for each one you would not be reading this post for I would most certainly be shore side watching the sunset on my private island. But even on that seven mile island in the Pacific I would still discuss a man in some way. I mean who else is going to mix my cocktails...and by mix my cocktails I do mean actual mixing of alcoholic beverages...I think.

Anyway, we adore you guys enough to discuss you ad nauseum. It's a gift really. We do it to feel normal because guess what? Regardless of how unique our problems may seem chances are 3 out of 5 women have been there done that. But I'm not here to male bash or rehash an age old men need to do this list. Nope, I will never do that. What I do have are a special set of skills, skills that I've acquired over a long period of dating, breaking up, relating, etc. Okay they're not really skills just observations about what I know to be true and helpful in this whole man/woman thing. So without further adieu here are a few things every man needs to know to make understanding women that much easier.


1. We know you're not mind readers:

We would just like you to pay attention to the things we've already said. Get that? If we haven't made our needs abundantly clear then we've already dropped the hint, talked extra loud to our girls within ear shot of you, and more than likely gave you a neon map with specific instructions written in ancient cave man directing you with flashy lights & arrows to the exact thing we need you to do. Chances are we're just repeating ourselves. We're not expecting you to just know but once you know then please respond accordingly.

2. We want you to lead:

Yes, independent needs aside we love you to be men. We want you to plan, make decisions, and be the head of our household. We also think it's incredibly sexy to be proactive. Imagine the night you'll have if we come home to an organized home, dinner ready, and peace in the universe. Happy times men...happy times!

3. We believe in you:

This goes without saying but probably isn't said enough. Our belief in you is the reason we were with you eating tuna and ramen noodles in that dungeon apartment. Women have an uncanny almost detrimental advantage at seeing potential. This belief in your potential and growth is a gift...and a curse.

4. We prefer quality time but will settle for quantity time:

We don't always have to be around you and know you're every move. Lawd knows we need our space and alone time too. We know how hectic life can be and so we make a point to share time with you. If a week away on an island immersed in our love for each other is out of the budget or schedule we'll gladly settle for a quick iced chai at a local coffee shop.

5. We want the truth...really:

This is the hardest one of all. No man worth his maniless wants to see a woman cry. Sometimes in life the truth hurts and a hurt woman may just shed a tear upon hearing it. Thus in order to avoid those tears or any tire slashing that may come with it a man will not be honest. However, this truth or lack thereof is the very thing that keeps us both from growing. We're committed to making a life with you and dishonesty will surely ruin that commitment.

So that's it fellas. Just a few observations and/or reminders about things I'm sure you already know. Ladies I'm sure I left off a few.

What do you think our lovely men need to know...with love?

The floor is open.

The Weekend We Became An Old Married Couple

Red Rock Canyon, Nevada

It happened overnight. The streets...we ran them. The nights...we stalked them. In fact my birthday weekend was just another stop on the grown express train.

The dress...Flintstones chic. The hair...ponytailed for the desert heat. The bracelets, the shoes, the bag all picked weeks in advance for this one night where the clock struck 12 and I would enter a new decade of awesome!

My most beloved accessory got us in Poetry Night Club's V.I.P where I planned to dance & party my new age away.

No such luck. The hubby -- after the preparations to get there, after the early afternoon scouting of the club in the middle of Caesar's Palace, after getting dressed, after the valuables were secured in the safe, after valeting the rental, after buying the $6 bottled waters -- looks at me (forehead shining from too many of my glossy kisses)  & says, "Let me know when you're ready."

I couldn't even respond.

But at least when history is written about the couple who shuts down their kitchen promptly at 8pm regardless of who's visiting, who thinks watching a movie late on a Saturday night is wild & crazy, and who took a break walking from a show to the car recently because their new shoes wouldn't let them be great it will have a definitive starting point -- that night in Vegas!

No, there was no debauchery. There were no friends lost or tigers roaming hotel suites. No one gambled away the kids non-existent college funds (we came back with money). No one drank themselves onto a karaoke stage singing "Baby Got Back" -- the chick who did was hi-lar-ious though! We were two well behaved tax paying adults taking in a Cirque Du Soleil show & driving out into the canyons. Yup that's my story & I'm sticking to it.

Poetry Nightclub

Caesar's Palace, Las Vegas

Thanks again to the lovely Charli of ManWifeandDog.com for inspiring this post with last week's love homework assignment -- Take a visual trip down memory lane.

Oh & the hubby wants everyone to know that he's not an old man. He just "hates crowds" and that's different.

 

Who Would Perform At Your Wedding

Anyone but this guy!

I admit I'm not the slightest concerned or excited for the royal wedding of Prince William to his bride to be Kate Middleton taking place less than a week away. Royal watches, news, and the general pomp and circumstance of it all just isn't my cup of tea. That said I am always excited to see who will perform at these lavish celebrations. While the young royals are said to be keeping it low key and traditional for the dignitaries during the Queen hosted reception at Buckingham Palace, rumor has it that everyone from James Blunt , Elton John, Snoop, and Beyonce & Jay-Z will perform at a later reception for their close friends.

Nice list if you can get them. But what if you could? What if you had an unlimited pick of artists to chose from? Who would you chose to perform at your wedding and what songs would you ask them to play?

Here are my picks:

Sade would totally get me down the aisle singing " I Couldn't Love You More". During the cocktail hour before the reception I would love for her to grace us with "Cherish The Day" and "Kiss of Life." Her gift to us would have to be "Smooth Operator." She's such an amazing performer and her band can really do no wrong.  She could simply walk on stage say "hello" and exit and I would be just as thrilled.

Musiq Souldchild is another amazing performer who seemingly bridges the gap between the new school and the old school. He would please Dood & Mama Lovely in a single song! I'd love to hear his new singles, "Anything" and "Yes" as well as old faithfuls "Just Friends", "Love" "143." I would also love to hear "Love Of My Life", "So Beautiful" and "Until." You know...just a few songs.

Then I think just to mess with everyone's sensibilities and because it ain't a party until someone backs it up in gowns in tuxs we'd have to get Wu Tang in the building. Wu Tang loves the kids y'all!






So let me hear it. Think hard. Be creative and above all else don't forget to have someone there reppin' for the kiddies!

The floor is open!

Blue Plate Specials 3

Sweet Potato Hash & Peppercorn Drumsticks

Lemon Garlic Linguine w/Asparagus & Cherry Tomatoes

Lemon Yogurt Cake
Recipe from Ina Garten recommended by Just One Donna

For recipes please leave a comment below with your email address. Or if you don't want to share your email address with everyone here you can email me at alovelydai@gmail.com. 

Please use subject: Blue Plate Special.

How To Teach A Dood To Lose?

Dood playing Kinect Sports

A few weeks ago I picked Dood up from Preschool and he was laying in the corner reading a book. Highly unusual for a Dood as rambunctious as he is. So unusual in fact that his teacher immediately walked up to me to advise that she asked him if he was okay or tired or not feeling well and he replied, "I'm chilling!" I was delighted. Miss Teacher had no idea why. When we got in the car I asked Dood what happened and he told me something about a train and his friend getting it first and said, "I was angry so I laid down". Again I was beyond thrilled.

You may recall that Dood has had some issues making good choices at school so I've been trying to help him come up with ways to keep his nice hands from turning into very bad bad hands. Seeing him lie down with a book "chilling" because he was angry was a monumental occasion. He was simply using the tools he was taught by giving himself a time out. *pats self on back*

Fast forward to last night at speech class. Mr. Speech Teach showed Dood some random pictures  for him to observe and discuss in complete sentences. Each full sentence earns him a peg used for tic tac toe which he played against yours truly. Well certainly you don't think I'm just going to let this kid win do you? Heck no. You think my father let me win?

My dad & I used to play smack hands. It's a game where Person A holds their hands out palms up & Person B hovers their hands palms down over person A. The objective is for Person B is to move their hands fast before Person A flips their hand over and a smacks them. My Dad was relentless and showed no mercy. My little six year old hands were obliterated by my Dad's swollen calloused carpenter hands.

So no I don't let my kids win. Which turned a simple game of tic tac toe into a war zone. Dood yelled at me, then he cried, then he cried for his Daddy, and then he packed the game up and refused to do anything. Thus on the scale from great to poor, he earned "fair" for the session and didn't receive a sticker. Another loss!!

Needless to say the entire evening was a loss for everyone. And this is just another of a dozen instances where this kid can not take a loss. I used to think he was a natural gamer and his competitive abilities were a plus (and maybe they are) but I'm starting to think that it is NOT a game. It's life son! This kid will not lose. He will not go down without a fight.

He turns everything into a sport. He races us at dinner to see who can eat their veggies first. He'll trample you on the steps if you're ahead of him. He turns getting jackets and shoes on into a contest. The other day this lady was walking with her baby singing a song about being the best & Dood ran up to her and said, "No, I'm the best!" I don't lie when I tell the truth!!!

The worst part of all was hearing Mr. Speech Teach say to my kid, "Joshua you can't win all the time. Sometimes you're going to lose." I mean what kind of mess is that? On one hand it's absolutely true. On the other hand who knows what's he's destined for. Maybe he is a born winner. Who are we to diminish that competitive, determined spirit in him? How on God's green earth can you, do you, teach a kid to lose?

My Dad smacking the crap out of my hands didn't teach me to lose. He taught me to focus and pay attention to his subtitles. I learned to watch his eyes for the slightest change to avoid the smack and eventually I became just as good as him...if not better (okay that's stretch).

The point? I don't really know. I have nothing in my bag of tricks for this sort of thing. I realize some of his behavior is normal and absolutely vital. A few weeks ago he bit his fathers game controller because he came in 2nd place. 2nd place was the first loser to him and he took it out on the game. Truthfully it's his feisty nature that I love most about him. But again I ask...how on God's green earth can you...do you....teach a kid to lose?

Catering To My Man...In Public

Not even the countdown clock could distract from the syrupy display behind me. The lovey dovey-ness exuding from these people I called my friends ate at the very core of me. The "babe can I make you a plate" and the "here hon rum & coke just like you like". The kisses to his forehead and hand pressed on his back sent me up the wall. Okay so you're married now. We get it. We were there!  We bought gifts. Lawd only knows what they'll do once the ball drops.

Dood, screaming bloody murder way past his bed time, gave us the perfect exit strategy. Countdown to the new year, do a quick toast, and make our way back home. Perfect plan because I couldn't take it anymore.

This was two New Years Eves ago. Several days later I was still trying to figure out why I was so bothered by my friend's affection and attentiveness to her husband. Was I hating on their matrimonial bliss? Of course not. I love love. I'm pro love. I have a shirt that reads Team Love. Well I don't exactly own a shirt like that but if I saw one I would totally buy it.

Do I not offer my husband the same care and consideration? Sure I do. But I would never fawn all over him like that. It's just not me.

For some reason my feminine sensibilities wouldn't allow me to cater to my man in that way that was so...public. I realized then that in the comforts of our home I played the doting wife very well. I cook for him, make his plate, serve his iced tea. I iron for him, shop for him, and baby him when he's ill. And yet in the outside world there was something in me that wouldn't let others see me as that woman.

To me that woman is weak and submissive and has no say in the relationship and probably doesn't even make her own money. That woman takes no for an answer and spends her days learning to prepare his favorite meals and sew his socks. I don't want to be that woman. Even Destiny's Child had independence before they starting catering to folks.

But who says being that woman is synonymous to being a doormat?

I love taking care of my hubby. I love being attentive to his needs. Being that woman didn't mean I had no backbone and no mind of my own. It simply meant that I love my hubby enough to want to do nice things for him and if that meant fixing him a plate of food in front of others I shouldn't squirm at that the idea.

Clair Huxtable certainly didn't squirm. I remember an episode of The Cosby Show when she offers Cliff and Alvin a cup of coffee & Alvin replies that he "didn't think she did that kind of thing" and by "thing" he meant serve. Clair being the attorney and mother of five she was LET HIM HAVE IT! The point? Their relationship was a balance of give & take, 50/50. Reciprocity. She offered him a cup of coffee just as had he brought her a cup of coffee earlier that day.


Skip to 4:40


I had to learn that fixing my man a drink whether at home or during a gathering did not set back the women's movement. I would not lose any sense of my own accomplishments or empowerment by picking up his dry cleaning. I also had to remind myself that he never complained or felt any less of man when he did the same for me...which is often...he spoils me...publicly.

Run Alovelydai Run

Run Forrest!!

The lovely Jasmine over at EatMoveWrite.com reminded me that I was supposed to become a runner this year. Yes, you read correctly. I, A lovely Dai planned to go from Sunday long Law & Order SVU marathons and bowls of cheese crackers to whole foods running on a trail somewhere...nearby...boobs sufficiently ducked taped down, bottle o' water handy getting my Forrest Gump on! She also reminded me that I sold my treadmill last year to a dear friend for $50.   

Dear friend, if you're reading this I hope my treadmill hasn't become the new dust collector in your home. Oh & perhaps I can buy it back from you. I too have dust that needs collecting. 

But first I need sneakers because I watched an episode of Rachel Ray recently & some expert said my sneakers are too old and won't properly support my spine or boobs or something like that. Oh & I need socks because trouser sucks aren't for running and those cute little one I have with stars and cherries on them aren't padded. And they don't collect sweat.

Then I'll need running gear. Maybe some cute breathable tanks (turquoise or fuchsia?) and those athletic shorts that athletic people who run wear. Do people still wear sweat bands? I find this may be helpful in my endeavors. I don't think I could endure the run without a handy dandy sweat band and a water bottle. BPA free of course. Not an aluminum one because I could run out of water mid-run and die a dehydrated death somewhere on the flat trails in my neck of the woods. The trails have to be flat because I'm hardly ready to run up or down anything.

This running thing is so overwhelming. Between my boobs, lack of proper footwear, coordinating gear, and BPA free clear water bottle I...I just don't think I'm ready for this. I haven't even learned to properly stretch yet.

So I'm asking all of you. What should I do to get on track? See what I did there. If you're a runner what tips would you give this beginner?  

Post It With Love Homework

"Can't wait for the next weekend! Love You"

It's no secret that my hubby is the hardest working person I know. He works weekends, evenings, and most holidays. It can get downright depressing at times. Our schedules are on opposite ends of the clock and it seems every weekend the clock strikes midnight and I become a single parent trying to manage the house, do a ton of chores all the while providing at least an ounce of fun for myself and the kids. It sucks!! Nonetheless, during this time of year his schedule slows down a bit resulting in a few weekends home sprinkled here and there.

This past weekend marked the first we've spent together as an entire family since...um....I don't know. It's been that long. I won't bore you with the details of breakfasts out eating Crab Benedict , shopping for spring clothes, and hanging at the farmers market indulging in fresh squeezed lemonade, smoked paprika and broccoli salad (it was all wonderful). I'll spare you the details of being spoiled rotten by the hubby and baking lemon yogurt cake on a stormy Saturday morning as a unit (it was magical). And I certainly won't divulge how much energy Dood drained out of his Daddy (let's just say he's glad to be back to work today).

So about my homework. Every Tuesday the lovely Charli aka the most awesome person I've never met in real life of ManWifeandDog.com assigns a fun exercise for the Wife troops to have fun with, bond over, and compare reactions. This week we were to share a little post it love. In short: write something syrupy sweet (or whatever works in your home) on a post it note, leave it where he's bound to notice, wait for the reaction, and share on our blogs. 

I left my little "can't wait for the next weekend" note on our bathroom mirror and went to work. He called soon after and said all the right things that I also won't bore you with. Most importantly, he said that although family fun weekend was great and necessary he wished that we could have spent more time together with just us two and I couldn't agree more. We're now planning our next weekend getaway alone and I can't wait!!


Thanks again Charli for this fun and easy homework assignment. Can't wait to see what tomorrow's task is!!

Thoughts & Notes On Beyonce's "Girls"

Fake Promo Shot

Editors Note: Full song included at bottom of post.

Last week the internets blew up momentarily over a snippet...I repeat a snippet...of what may or may not be Beyonce's upcoming single "Girls (Who Rule The World)". I say "maybe" because...

• It all feels very weird and hush hush. Perhaps Mrs. Carter is down with the Illuminati because I can't remember when a song was as highly secretive as this. Perhaps it's all a ploy to release a song that has zero to do with the 22 seconds below. Best misdirection ever? We'll see. 
• This woman must own the internets. Remember the Alicia Keys video for "Put It In A Love Song" that she was to co-star? Remember the pictures of them filming in Brazil? Remember the video? Nope. You don't because it never came out. Not one leak. 
• Which brings me to the snippet. What kind of confidentiality agreements does Beyonce use? Is the punishment death? How is it possible that the song in its entirety hasn't leaked? 
• I've read a lot of comments about this snippet from "this is nothing new" to "the queen is back to slay heaux". The buzz is spreading like wild fires and people are talking. Are snippets the new promo tool?
• Speaking of nothing new. The track is a sample of Major Lazer's "Pon De Floor". Swizz Beatz also recently used it for Diddy - Dirty Money's "Ass On The Floor". Not exactly the fresh music you'd expect of a highly anticipated return to dominance.
• Select pictures from the video surfaced three days straight of Beyonce somewhere in the desert looking absolutely fierce. The theme of the video is said to be global women empowerment and I have no doubt that it will take the song to at least 4 new levels. She's said to be using her core group of dancers and reports say that she requested 200 more dancers to round of some of the dance sequences. An anonymous poster said the choreography will be bigger and more viral than "Single Ladies". They say a lot don't they?

• Speaking of pictures. Someone even went as far as crafted a promo poster (shown above) for the video which a lot of sites including MTV.com picked up and featured before it was declared a fake. People are so hungry for anything new that they're making it up. 
• The title originally known as "Girl" singular is also pretty clever if you think about it. One search will lead you to a slew of other related Beyonce material. "Naughty Girl", "Broken Hearted Girl" as well as "Girl" from Destiny Fulfilled. Good luck searching for this new song even when it comes out.
• Whenever that happens. Some reports said it would premiere this past Friday (it did not) while other say end of April. Point is, the fact that there isn't even a confirmed release date is just beyond anything witnessed in this digital piracy era. 

If you haven't heard the clip yet here it is:

In all I'm excited about the return of Bey Season. It seems that this time around she really did lay low and live a little which has inspired her "own little gumbo of music".

So what do you think about the song so far? Any thoughts on the video's theme? What are you hoping to hear from Beyonce's new material?

The floor is open. 

Editor's Note: 
Listen to entire song here:

Blue Plate Specials 2

Turkey Meatballs Peppers & Onions over Jasmine Rice with Garlic Green Beans

Broccoli Cheddar Soup With Asiago Cheese Bread

For recipes please leave a comment below with your email address. Or if you don't want to share your email address with everyone here you can email me at alovelydai@gmail.com. 

Please use subject: Blue Plate Special.

How To Avoid Being The Old Man In The Club

"Please get this old guy off of me!"

A friend once told me that he married his wife because she's a good woman, he's not stupid, and he didn't want her to be with anyone else. Sounds lovely don't you agree? And yet there's an problem with this. I know this guy. I know this very well. I know that he's already lived a full life. He's well traveled. Well schooled. He's had many beautiful, gorgeous, (lovely), intelligent women. He's sewed his royal oats.

He watched his friends couple up and marry around him to the point that arriving to -- say a Christmas party solo --  became more chore than festivity. One might expect that for his age group. Yes, he was no longer a young pup. He had reached the age where people (& by people I mean the kind who wear bras) start to question what's wrong with him.

Is he a slore (slut/whore)?
Does he have commitment issues?
Did he just get out prison?
Did his Momma not hug him enough?
Does he have a few baby mommas?
Is he closeted?

And this just on the first date!!

There's an idea that men aren't scared of commitment, they're just scared to commit to the wrong person. There's also an idea that water is wet but who's keeping score. The point is that for every man who recognizes the greatness in their potential life partner long enough to put a ring on it, there's at least 9 more who are using their 2 months salary on some party and bull shyt instead of an engagement. To know this is to understand and appreciate that for these men the grass may just be greener on the other side of the club. Absorb it. Let it marinate. Then ball that idea up and throw it in the bottom of the ocean.

I've used my friend's why-did-I-get-married answer to devise this simple yet effective test that all men should take when staring their possible future in the face.

Here goes:

Is she a good woman? Decent? Capable of a loving, nuturing, reciprocating considerate relationship? Will she support you? Help you grow? Will she make you a sandwich? Will she lotion your back? Will she laugh at your dumb jokes and never forget to say, "baby it'll be okay"?

Once you've answered YES to that question move on to question #2.

Are you stupid? Are you capable of learning? Can you know a thing and comprehend it? Do you have the fortitude to reason? Have you been formally introduced to logic? Do any of these questions make sense to you?

If you've answered YES again then and only then may you ask yourself the last and final question.

Would you want to see your woman with someone else? Can you in all of your intelligence with complete  understanding that she is a good woman worthy of love and respect see her...and I mean really see her...with another man? Can you picture them at the movies hand in the popcorn? Can you picture this woman...your woman...getting her shoulders rubbed by this Idris Elba doppleganger of a man? Can you?

Because if she's a good woman and you have the smarts then clearly she shouldn't be with anyone other than you. My friend was wise enough to understand this. He found his love and made a life with her. I'm sure he also felt his shelf life expiring. But nonetheless, that my friends is how you avoid being the old man in the club. That's how you avoid creepy gazes from much younger women clearly not interested in you and your Stacy Adams. That's how you -- smelling like decades old Cool Water cologne -- avoid being that guy. And nobody and I mean nobody likes that guy. Even Hugh Hefner is getting married again and he's barely alive.

This, of course, is just my lovely logic. Perhaps I just haven't met the really happy older gentleman completely satisfied with bachelorhood. Perhaps I just haven't met a man content with a tube of lube and a few choice video clips. Maybe there are single happy old guys in the club.

Which makes me wonder...have you met one? Inquiring minds. What do you think about the 3 questions? What other questions would you add? Don't be shy...speak up!

The floor is open.

Writing With A Crappy Memory

My hubby has one skill that I would die to have. Well two. He's an effortless baker--he clearly has a knack for following directions and measuring, something I don't. And he has an awesome memory...about really unimportant things such as the first and last names of kids he went to elementary school with. He also pulls vague sports stats out his arse like it's...well...a sport. It's really impressive considering he has no idea what my social security number is. Seriously no clue.

I digress.

I, on the other hand, do not have total recall. My brain is perfectly equipped with a temporary delete option that dumps any and all useless information immediately after it's learned. Except for all of the words to Rebecca Black's Friday; that tragedy will be embedded forever. Uggghhhhhh!

My brain's temporary memory fails me at the most inopportune times. I can read a book, put it down, and completely forget 7/10th of what I just read. If I see a movie once it's lost by the time the credits roll. I can tell you if it was great or not but I can't give you any real details or premise. Crazy right?

It's a gift: The farther removed I am from an unpleasant experience the easier it is for me to have just a fleeting glimpse of it.

And a curse: I have no idea what my wedding vows were.

So how the heck do I write a blog where details and memory are required? Well my friends there lies the rub. Truth is it's extremely difficult. But it's also why I write.

Writing helps me focus on the what, where, why, and hows. It's the perfect brain exercise. It forces me to remember the smallest of details and when I can't I often rely on those closest to me. My bestie holds most of my thoughts, secrets, and memories with vault like precision. She knows the specifics of my life better than I do.

Pretty crazy right? But what if say I'm writing a review on...Marsha Ambrosius's live show? How do I prevent my review to reading like this?

Marsha sang a few of her old songs...y'all know her old songs right? Then the DJ played some fast stuff and then she sang some more...I'm pretty sure it was a cover from someone but I can't remember. Damn...what was the name of that song?


Extreme? Not really. This could very well have happened except for one thing. After the show I jotted down everything I could conjure and I use this tool for just about everything. I write to do lists, shopping lists, holiday gift buying lists, what to take to my mom's house lists, what to pack lists. what to take to Dood's school lists, and on & on.

I've also become quite the story teller. I spin everything from a TV show, my twitter timeline, or a conversation with my mom into an anecdote. Usually by the 3rd time I've retold the story it sticks and moves from temp files to my internal hard drive.

Sometimes I'm not so lucky. I can't tell you how many great ideas I've lost. Or how many memories I have no recollection of. But when it's all said, done, or forgotten at least I still have google.

But I do wonder. Am I the only person with this weird memory issue? Is it just a bad case of mommy brain? Should I start a reality show so I'll have it all on film?

What say you?

The floor is open.

What I Eat Shouldn't Make You Poop

After posting last weeks Blue Plate Specials I was asked this question on twitter:

"I thought you were on a diet. What's with all that food?"

The answer was a lot longer than anything that I could say in 140 characters so I figured I'd make my case here. So let's get a few things out of the way.


1. I don't believe in diets. THEY DON'T WORK. Diet = temporary restriction. The premise is by eating well for a period of time you will lose weight. But what happens when you stop? You guessed it! The pounds come back. This is why dieting doesn't work. This is also why people stay in the gym and never lose weight. Their "cheat" days won't let them be great. My decision to limit certain foods that I previously devoured are permanent! I repeat -- permanent!! I will never eat a a box of cheese crackers or oatmeal cream pies again. I now understand the addiction and downward spiral attached those kinds of foods. So I just say no. Not in moderation.  Not on any given Sunday. It will NEVER happen again

Why?

2. Because my rant was about processed foods!!! And let me clear about this because when I mentioned processed foods to my mother in law her brain immediately assumed deli or canned meats. These are also processed foods but I'm thinking much broader. Foods should rot!! Processed foods found mostly in the inner aisles of grocery stores (think cereals, soda, juices, cookies, cakes, rice mixes, canned macaroni & cheese, etc.) are made to last longer in order to preserve shelf life, cost less, and are made easier to prepare.
The thought is that humans want easy, cheap meals, that won't go bad. This makes sense in theory but since their invention (and I do mean invention) we've become a fatter, lazier society who heavily relies on these kinds of foods for basic necessity. Ever notice someone's groceries at the checkout lane and realize that they don't have one single fresh item in their ENTIRE cart? No, just me...okay carry on. So what's the problem you ask? Processed foods are stripped of the very nutrients that make them food. Take a simple sugar cookie. Ingredients should be flour, egg, butter, sugar, baking powder, vanilla, and salt. Yet it you ever read the ingredient list on a store boxed sugar cookie you would need a scientist to explain (and pronouce) them. The flour is replaced with bleached flour, sugar becomes corn solids and high fructose corn syrup, and butter (whew!) there are so many unpronounceable names that it's best to just leave it alone.  When we eat highly processed foods they hit our stomachs providing temporary relief but they never satiate us because there's no substance there. The fiber, vitamins, and all around goodness is somewhere on a factory floor. If you want a cookie. Eat a real cookie with real ingredients. You will be satisfied with 1 or 2 cookies and will not feel the urge to consume the entire bag. I promise. Oh and if you think those cereals are chuck full of vitamins and whole grains you would be right except they were sprinkled in after the fact. Another point: notice how whenever there's a new health claim cereal adapts to it? Now with IRON. Now with 1/3 less sugar!! 10% of your daily fiber needs!!! 14g of whole grains!!! Now with 5g of monkey balls!!

3. So back to "what's with all that food"? All that what? All of those fresh whole ingredients?? All of those fresh peppers, chopped peanuts, and whole wheat pastas?? Was it too much fresh herbs, chopped cucumbers, carrots & brocolli? Or was it the lean ground turkey, boneless chicken and turkey sausage? I know -- it was probably the cheese wasn't it? It's always the cheese but remember I'm also not on a low fat diet because...well see point #1. Remember the low fat movement gave way to the high sugar movement (The fat content in foods were reduced and replaced with more sugar to preserve taste. Think fat free, reduced fat, low fat. All of these items are definitely lower in fat but higher in sugar!!) and that hasn't worked well either. Also looks can be deceiving. The standard American dinner plate is 10" in diameter. My blue plates are 8". Smaller plates will always equal smaller portions.

I realize that my cleaner eating habits are confusing especially in a world where food is advertised as "beefy" and "cheesy" (note: it's not 100% beef & it's not cheese) and where we think yogurt and low fat yogurt are both yogurt (hint: low fat yogurt is NOT yogurt). What I eat shouldn't make you sh*t but it will definitely make me sh*t because it's real food with real fiber.

Which makes me wonder. What's the worse processed thing you've ever had? I'll go first. Canned turkey chili with beans. Gross!!!! It looked and tasted like dog food and abuse. As for my hubby, he loves Entenmann's Louisiana Crunch Cake & those cheap Lipton rice & pasta mixes where you add milk and voila it's Alfredo!! Your turn!

Marsha Marsha Marsha Live at BET Music Matters Tour

Once Marsha Ambrosius hit the Ram's Head Live stage in Baltimore, MD all seemed right with the world. The traveling on a work night, the standing in stilettos, and missed dinner opportunity to prep ones hair and get there early enough for prime positioning made sense. The crowd had its headliner and she was geared to turn down the house.

Stunning in a mini one shoulder teal jersey dress complete with jeweled belt Miss Marsha got right to work. The opener: a fusion of "The Art of Noise" and the title track from Late Night Early Mornings. Her voice: is sex-tacular a word?

Having successfully pleased the crowd she wasted no time delving into her bag of goodies. A little "Say Yes"...YES!!! A run through of some of her newest offerings including, "Your Hands" and "I Hope She Cheats On You"...don't mind if we do!

But what's a girl to do when the majority of her music is better listened to horizontally? Borrow Mary J Blige's "Real Love" and Baltimore staple Dru Hill's "Tell Me". Breaking out the requisite "Tell Me" dance from the video was another clever touch. And since Ms. Ambrosius clearly understood her base, why not allow the DJ a little fun working the crowd into a frenzy with some choice classic Bmore club music!

Marsha knew how to use the venue to connect with her fans even when their screams drowned her delicate British accent. Yet she wasn't the only one.

Melanie Fiona literally hit the stage running. She flawlessly sang & danced during a sped up version of  "Ay Yo"  accompanied by the only background singers of the evening (Marsha had none). She chatted and joked with the crowd between songs (specifically that her sophomore album was trapped in label politics and due out "summer-ish") and impressed everyone singing her biggest radio hit "It Kills Me" as well as Alanis Morissette's "Ironic".

Announced as The President's favorite singer (yes that President) Anthony David was right at home pulling songs such as "4Evermore" and  "Girlfriend" from his repertoire.

CJ Hilton also made the best of his duties opening the show in front of his finicky hometown. The gathering still buying drinks and not quite ready to be entertained by this newbie was eventually won over by the time Hilton closed out his performance with "We Can Get It In"  doing everything he could including playing the keys & drums.

For everyone in attendance it was evident that even in this manufactured you tube era music still matters. Although a few exited the club as Marsha briefly left the stage for a planned encore it was clear that the majority didn't mind losing a few more minutes of sleep to witness her close out the show with "Lose Myself" which she so graciously reciprocated with a final "Thank You For Being A Friend" ala Golden Girls.




Disclaimer: In my excitement I left my camera home so this is not my video. However, I'm sure some of those screams are mine. 

Blue Plate Specials

Turkey Sausage Pepper & Onions over Whole Wheat Penne Topped With Fresh Basil & Parmesan 

Peanut Chicken W/ Cucumber & Cilantro

Turkey Meatloaf W/Marinara, Mac & Cheese & Lemon Garlic Roasted Broccoli

For recipes please leave a comment below with your email address. Or if you don't want to share your email address with everyone here you can email me at alovelydai@gmail.com.

Please use subject: Blue Plate Special.

The One Good Day Theory

I drove home, iTouch shuffling, windows down, volume loud enough to hear, low enough not to disturb the little Mom & Pop shops along Lincoln Highway. Adele's voice is crooning through the Bose speakers but it doesn't soothe me. Her brilliant voice -- strong like earth -- is pissing me off.

She sings:

Some say I'll be better without you,
But they don't know you like I do,
Or at least the sides I thought I knew,
I can't bear this time,
It drags on as I lose my mind,
Reminded by things I find,
Like notes and clothes you've left behind,
Wake me up, wake me up when all is done,
I won't rise until this battle's won,
My dignity's become undone,

But I won't go,
I can't do it on my own,
If this ain't love, then what is?
I'm willing to take the risk,
I won't go,
I can't do it on my own,
If this ain't love, then what is?
I'm willing to take the risk,
I'm willing to take the risk,

~Adele "He Won't Go" 21

I wanted to strangle her. I wanted to ask her why she's waiting & suffering. I needed to know why she "can't do it on her own". I needed to know why she thinks that's love. And most importantly, what's the "risk"?

But it's really a moot point. We already know. I already know. We sing along remembering anyone that's ever made us understand those lyrics. We've been there at some point because unless you were blessed to still be healthy and happy with your first love chances are you've had a failed relationship. And chances are within that failed relationship you tried desperately to stay and make it work. And chances are if you tried desperately to stay and make it work you hang on with a fixed view of the good times just waiting for them to reappear. And chances are they won't.

Many moons ago I was in this same vicious cycle with my ex. I wouldn't go. He wouldn't go. If I think about it long enough I'd say it took us two years to break up. And if I think about it long enough we were both after the same thing. We both were battling it out in hopes of getting our relationship back to what it used to be. (Whatever that means...I mean c'mon. Relationships are about growth right? How can it stay constant?).

And so we fought the inevitable. Thursday through Tuesday we would ignore, berate, and demean each other and then by Wednesday we'd have this awesome day. Wednesday was a magic eraser to the rest of hell week. We'd laugh, remember our common bonds, and agree on everyday. It was a glimpse of how we used to be. So we stayed together waiting for that one good day to turn into a week and then a month and maybe 'til death parted us.

It aches me to my core when I hear people discuss their sour relationships by the day. "We had a good day yesterday." "Tuesday we didn't cuss each other out."

One good day doth not maketh a relationship. And truly when I think back to those sporadic really good days I was on eggs shells the whole 24 hours -- every word wrapped in fine silk.

At some point we -- I-- understood that as much as we wanted things to be better we were doomed to a life of misery with a few good days sprinkled here & there.

But I have to wonder. Why else do people linger in broken relationships? What do you think?

The floor is open.

Note: Adele's "He Won't Go" is a beautiful song. Her entire CD is beautiful. Sometimes I take lyrics a bit too personally. I guess it's why I can't listen to my hubby's gangsta music!

What's Worse Than A Blank Screen?

And so she made it easier for him and his body shook less

I wrote the above line in my college cafeteria waiting for my then boyfriend to finish a class. That was many moons ago.

I've imagined a woman reluctant to give her all to a man...a man who has been anxious to receive her "all". I've imagined that this is defining moment in their lives. I've only imagined it because I have never ever been able to get past this line. This sentence taunts me. I know there's something there but I could never get it on the page. The. Most. Frustrating. Line. Ever.

I once changed "shook" to "trembled" and made it a haiku. Yup!!

And so she made it

easier for him and his

body trembled less

To a writer the only thing more frustrating than a blank screen is an incomplete thought. It's a locked door without a key. A sledgehammer may be required.

So I propose 3 options:

1. Start elsewhere
I have some background information on my characters. I know where I want them to end up. The first sentence that I suggested is present day, but all of the "stuff" that will eventually lead my characters to that beginning narrative is also stuck in my head so why not start there? I'll use what I already know, get that on the screen, and eventually link back to the opening sequence.

2. Ditch the first sentence
A former writing teacher calls this the Coco Chanel rule. Coco Chanel famously said, "Before you leave the house, look in the mirror and remove one accessory. Less is always more." Perhaps my sentence is so overwrought with jingling flashy pressure that I should discard it all together. Hmmmm?

3. Let it be...something else
Maybe just maybe it really is a haiku. Or a poem. Or perhaps it's simply a decent line best suited for the 140 character micro blog world of twitter.


So what do you guys think? Should I start somewhere else in hopes that it will all make sense? Should I ditch it? Or should I let it be?

The floor is open.