Helena Handbasket: July 2009

Metaphorically Speaking: The Railroad Tracks

Yesterday, I struggled to keep my balance as I walked across some railroad tracks during a photo shoot. At first, I was getting frustrated because I felt so unstable and wobbly; I kept losing my footing and was stumbling left and right. My head was down, focusing hard on every move I made, scrutinizing every step I took. After a few minutes of awkwardness, I was toying with the idea of giving up the difficult path I had chosen. My patience was wearing thin and it would have been so much easier to walk on the level ground.

I kept moving forward and began to laugh at myself while I clumsily strode across the track. When I would fall off, I'd get right back on again and although my short journey over the metal rail wasn't smooth or easy, I was persistent and allowed myself to have fun. My confidence grew with every shaky step as did the ability to maintain my position and improve my balance. The last few steps weren't exactly graceful but I was smiling and had my head held up high.

Photo courtesy of AMO Photo & Design

Seven Deadly Secrets: #6 ~ I like to analyze my poop.

*Shoutouts to Nicole and Adrian for the inspiration of "Seven Deadly Secrets."

"I don't know why I even bother chewing corn anymore." I can't remember who first said that... Tina Fey maybe? Whoever it was had the smarts to peer into the toilet after getting rid of the grumpies.

After every *movement,* I study what I have just deposited into the latrine. It's gross but it's important, people! I'm obsessed with my health and am all about prevention so every time I drop a deuce, you can best believe I'm studying my gift to the Porcelain Gods.

Thanks to my good friend, Adrian, who gave me the must-read, "What's Your Poo Telling You?" last Christmas, I have a quick-reference guide to aid me in my never-ending quest for poop analysis. If you ever use my bathroom, pick up this classy piece of literature (it's on top of the commode) and take a look - I bet you will learn something new and fascinating about Numero Dos.

Key Lime Cupcakes

The key lime cupcakes turned out nicely! Next time, I'll omit the green food coloring in the batter.

Riley's Rumble Half-Marathon

This course photo doesn't quite capture the amount or difficulty of the hills I ran this morning but just to give you an idea:

13.1 (13.45 according to my Garmin!) miles through South Germantown's countryside. It rained on us a few times and the humidity was very high but at least the sun stayed away until after the race. Around Mile 2, I saw a deer buy the farm on a wet driveway. The pounding of our feet must have spooked the poor doe and she was frantically trying to leave the scene and slipped on the pavement. She went skidding across the driveway and struggled to gain her footing. After she was on all fours again, she ran towards the woods, stunned and disoriented. I felt so bad for her! She was the only animal we encountered (minus countless roadkill of frogs, mice, and turtles) which was a relief.

I completed the race in 2:12 (time has yet to be made official). The only downside was that my stomach paid the price for all of the sugary, chemical-ridden, artificially flavored concotions I consumed for energy during the race: Gatorade, cherry sport jelly beans, and Powerade energy gel. Lesson learned: do not mix different fuels on long runs. Post-race, I stuck to oranges and water. Had a blast, and really pushed myself with this race. What a way to start a Sunday!

Newseum

Here are a few pics from Saturday's visit to the Newseum. I was there from 12-5 and still didn't see all of the exhibits. It is an incredible and educational place - definitely worth visiting more than once.

MorningStar Hickory BBQ Riblets

I'm not a vegetarian and probably never will be but based on the recommendation of my pescatarian buddy, Nicole, I decided to give these a try. She claimed they were in the same league as a McDonald's McRib sandwich. Now, I've never had a McRib before because... EW ... it never appealed to me in the first place: processed rib meat shaped by a machine? No thanks... I'd rather have the processed "soy protein concentrate," thankyouverymuch.

So after about 30 minutes in the toaster oven, my riblet was done.

Smelled great but how did it taste? I decided to go the sandwich route and used a Pepperidge Farm sandwich thin. Doesn't look like much, does it?

I took a cautious bite and.... wow... not bad! The texture wasn't gritty or gristly and it tasted like how I would imagine a McRib would taste like. The BBQ sauce was a little sweet for my liking (I'm definitely a savory person) but it wasn't anything a little hot sauce couldn't fix.

Paired it with a garden salad and enjoyed my meatless dinner on the balcony.

My usual dinner date kept me company:

And so did a rainbow:

I'd definitely eat these again; they probably taste 10 times better on the grill. Giant has them on sale this week, FYI.

Seven Deadly Secrets: #5 ~ 162 m.p.h.

*Shoutouts to Nicole and Adrian for the inspiration of "Seven Deadly Secrets."

I did a lot of stupid shit when I was in my 20's. I remember riding my motorcycle one night to the tune of 162 m.p.h. on route 50 west. It was around 3:00 a.m. and there were no cars in sight. I was coming back from a long ride and wanted to get back to Germantown as quickly as possible.

Lots of things happen when you're doing those types of speed on a bike. You don't see things in detail - the world becomes a blur as you catapult yourself full speed ahead. The roar of the engine deafens you and gravity works overtime. The adrenaline rush is incomparable. I knew I was pushing the limit and glanced at my speedometer; I saw 162 and slowly eased off the throttle. My pulse was racing and my heart felt like it was about to leap out of my chest. It was an exciting moment but also terrifying.

When you hit triple digits on a bike, there is no use in analyzing the "what ifs" after your ride is over. You take the risks and if you survive and don't hurt anyone else in the process, thank God or a higher power and consider yourself lucky. I still ride but would never dream of flirting with death like that again.

Seven Deadly Secrets: #4 ~ I have no eyelid folds.

*Shoutouts to Nicole and Adrian for the inspiration of "Seven Deadly Secrets."

Many Asians are born with small eyelid folds or none at all. I am part of the none at all population. Most people don't even notice. I used to want folds so I could look more... American? Silly, I know, but there was a point in time where I despised my Korean eyes. During my trip to Seoul in 1996, I developed an entirely different outlook about my heritage - I began to embrace it and in turn, started loving most of the things I used to dislike about my physical appearance. There are many Asians who get double eyelid surgery and that's their prerogative; I'm happy with my fold-less eyes.

Comments are now Enabled

How about I didn't realize the comments were limited to followers only. Oops... totally unintentional. Comment away, my faithful one or two readers!

Seven Deadly Secrets: #3 ~ I rarely wear deodorant.

*Shoutouts to Nicole and Adrian for the inspiration of "Seven Deadly Secrets."

Occasionally, I use Tom's of Maine because I like how it smells, or a splash of perfume, but most of the time, I just go without deodorant. Here's why:

“Apocrine glands, which produce scents that we commonly refer to as
body odor, vary widely among the races. Asians have an extremely low distribution of apocrines (Koreans are among the least odor-producing people on Earth—50% of them have no apocrine glands at all). With regard to other races, blacks have a slightly higher distribution of apocrine glands than whites.”

Source: -THE ORIGIN OF "RACES"-
by: Bert Thompson, Ph.D.

My pits and other cavernous areas of my body have never known what B.O. is; I'll admit it - I'm not too upset about this. My feet on the other hand... As the expression goes, "Something's gotta give." I'll give you $100 if you don't pass out after smelling my feet at the end of the day (especially in the summer).

Experimenting with Henna

Nicole showed up at Rock the Bells with the cutest henna design on her hand. I've been wanting to play around with henna for years and have even considered getting my hands and feet done for my wedding day (if that day ever comes).

Did you know Michaels sells henna kits?

This is my version of a dragon and Pisces symbol. It aint perfect but I had fun doing it!

I'll wash the paint off tomorrow and the color will be much lighter but the design itself will last for about a week.

***

I used vegetable oil and a cotton ball to remove the henna. Here is the end result:

Fish Tacos

I found this recipe on Rebecca Scritchfield's site; she's a DC-based nutritionist who spoke to my running club about the importance of hydration and nutrition during marathons.

I haven't gone near seafood or fish (other than the occasional albacore tuna) for most of my 33 years on this planet but have been trying to keep an open mind lately. I realized that if I wanted to consume more lean protein, fish needed to be an option.

Pictured below are the many ingredients the recipe calls for. Between Trader Joe's and Shopper's, I found everything I needed. TJ sells pre-seasoned fresh tilapia which is awesome on it's own so I decided to use it in this recipe.

Prep time took at least 25 minutes; not difficult but involved. The finished product didn't quite look like the picture from the website but after all was said and done, the taco tasted great! Nice flavors and textures; I really enjoyed the red cabbage. I ate on my balcony despite the warm, muggy weather (feels so soupy out there). Would I make fish tacos again? Sure, why not... something different, healthy, and filling.

Seven Deadly Secrets: #2 ~ I am a hamster killer.

*Shoutouts to Nicole and Adrian for the inspiration of "Seven Deadly Secrets."

Circa 1982 I was a carefree kindergartner, donning two pig tails and a denim jumper dress. I was the sweetest little girl who adored her teacher and looked forward to milk and cookie time with her fellow classmates. I was the prime example of how a child should behave in class. I followed the rules, I was silent when quiet time was in session, I played nicely with the other kids... you get the idea. So how could a role model student become such a heartless slayer of life you say?

The class had two hamsters: A.M., named for the morning session, and P.M. for the afternoon session. Cute huh? A.M. and P.M. loved to be handled and we would take turns showering them with love and affection. Up until that fateful day, the hamsters were inseparable and were the pride and joy of the classroom.

It was my turn to hold A.M... or was it P.M.? As I wrapped my hands around its warm body, I could feel the quick movements and delicate bones as the tiny critter moved around, exploring and sniffing the air with it's tiny hamster nose. I remember picking up a cardboard toilet tissue roll - the hamsters loved to chew on these and I was anxious to watch A.M.... or was it P.M.... start nibbling away at the paper. I guess the hamster wasn't in the mood to snack on the roll but this did not matter because EYE wanted to witness the fascinating ritual so I squeezed the hamster juuuust a bit harder, shoving the cardboard into its mouth. Still no bite! After a few more aggressive squeezes, the hamster stopped moving.

Hmmmm, I thought to myself... this is not good. So I did what any murderer would have done in the heat of the moment - I tossed the lifeless creature back into his residence and pretended he was sleeping. By now, other students had gathered around me because they wanted a turn at holding the hamster. It didn't take long for them to realize I had just committed hamstercide.

"YOU KILLED HIM!!" someone exclaimed. A hush fell over the classroom and my teacher ran over to us and gasped. A look of horror swept across her face and she glared at me and started demanding to know what happened. "It was an accident," I stammered; but there was no sympathy in her eyes. She came over to me, wrapped her hands around my neck and squeezed, yelling "How would you like it if someone did this to you?!" I was speechless and was probably crying at that point.

I feel bad to this day about murdering that poor, defenseless creature. I mean the life expectancy of hamsters is a whopping two-three years; how dare I cut it short with my selfish and beguiling ways?! It was replaced a few weeks later and the A.M./P.M. dynamic duo was made whole again. I never went near the hamster station again - although I was probably banned for life after the massacre of A.M. Or was it P.M.?

http://www.juliahailes.com/images/GrnDeath-hamster.jpg

Seven Deadly Secrets: #1 ~ The Dollhouse

*Shoutouts to Nicole and Adrian for the inspiration of "Seven Deadly Secrets."

My mother exposed this secret last month when she met my boyfriend for the very first time. I froze when she started telling the story but let her finish because well... she's my mom and I could tell she was enjoying the nostalgia, reminiscing about her oldest daughter - one who had a seemingly mild case of OCD.

I had the most beautiful dollhouse when I was younger. It was handmade out of wood and each room had unique wallpaper, furniture, and other miniature details; for example, the dining room had a complete set of china made out of porcelain. There were even tiny pink roses painted in the middle of each plate! In the kitchen, there were mini pies, turkeys, and vegetables that would fit perfectly in the wooden refrigerator or stove. The house even came with a "family" - the mother had a bowl cut and bootcut jeans (just like me back then) and the father was a strapping young man with khakis and a white polo. They had two small children, complete with Osh Kosh B'Gosh jumpers. I remember tossing them into the Barbie box and eventually using them as Barbie's "little people" servants (but we'll save that story for another day).

By today's standards, that same dollhouse would probably cost several hundred dollars, if not closer to a grand. You would think a young child would take pleasure in using his/her imagination with such an elaborate toy... Apparently, I had other plans. According to my mother (and I remember this, too), I never actually played with the dollhouse (which is debatable - tomato/tomahto). Here is an example of how I spent time with the house:

Empty room one: lay miniatures out in front of the dollhouse and arrange by type, color, and size.
Empty room two: repeat
Empty room three: repeat
Empty room four: repeat
Empty room five: repeat
Empty room six: repeat
Empty room seven, the attic: repeat

Then, to make things even more interesting, here is what I did next:

Rearrange room one with the original contents.
Rearrange room two: repeat
Rearrange room three: repeat
Rearrange room four: repeat
Rearrange room five: repeat
Rearrange room six: repeat
Rearrange room seven, the attic: repeat

God forbid the mini rugs weren't centered correctly, or the tiny roses on each porcelain plate were not facing the same direction... I'd have to start all over... but I didn't care. I enjoyed the few years I had with that dollhouse. I regret losing track of it and it was probably thrown out when my parents divorced. I'd love to buy another one just like it one day - if I can find a craftsman talented enough to duplicate the awesomeness of it, that is. I found a picture via Google Image Search of a similar dollhouse; this pic does not do my dollhouse justice - mine was far more intricate.

http://www.germes-online.com/direct/dbimage/50293731/Dollhouse.jpg

Neglected Balcony, No More

We have been blessed with some beautiful weather this summer! The temps and humidity levels have been very comfortable, especially when the sun begins to set. Perhaps this is our reward for such a dreary, rainy spring.

Early this morning, I looked out at my lonely balcony and realized I haven't been taking advantage of this small extension of my apartment. Coincidentally, I had the same discussion with Sana via our daily e-mail exchange: "You know what you have, that’s cool? A balcony. I don’t feel like I can arbitrarily sit chairs at my front door and just chill out, but YOU can!" Some higher power was definitely trying to tell me something; so tonight, after a not-so-pleasant gym workout, I prepared a quick meal of albacore tuna, wheat crackers, a nectarine, and strawberries. Roach (a.k.a. McRib) kept me company as I enjoyed my dinner on the balcony.

The view from my place isn't much to look at but it's quiet and serene.

Happy 6th Birthday, McRib (it was actually yesterday)!

I plan on eating outside for the rest of the summer. Everything tastes better outdoors!

My love affair with peanut butter

I used to hate peanut butter. HATE!! My mother would hand me a spoonful and order me to eat the entire thing at once - no crackers, no celery, not even a slice of bread to accompany the glob of Skippy or Jiff. "You need the protein. Eat."

These days, I have to wear ear plugs if I'm at home because the jar of peanut butter in the kitchen constantly calls out to me. It taunts... it mocks... it teases. "Eat me... you know you want to, you peanut-butter-obsessed-maniac, you..." I can think of worse things to snack on besides peanut butter but the fact of the matter is, it is 100% FAT. And while it is a "good fat," I cannot, in good faith, allow myself to consume 1/2 a jar in one sitting (and trust me people, I could very well do this).

This is going to sound so snobby but it has to be said. I only eat natural peanut butter. If the jar does not say "Refrigerate after opening" I don't touch the stuff. As a nutritionist once pointed out to me: "regular" peanut butter has so many chemicals and preservatives in it, even mold won't touch it. BURRRRN conventional peanut butter... BURN!! Besides, natural peanut butter tastes so much better in my opinion; the texture and flavor is just so heavenly! Trader Joe's peanut butter is my go-to. It's naturally sweet!

http://www.thesweetroad.com/.a/6a010535967fc1970c01157036ee24970b-300wi

Did you know that peanut butter is now super-portable? I stumbled across Justin's Nut Butter last year and was delighted to find that they sold 100-calorie packs of peanutty goodness. These come in handy when I need a quick snack. Lately, I have been smothering a low-cal oatmeal raisin granola bar with one squeeze-pack - DELISH!

The irony of it all... I am beginning to eat the squeeze-pack only. I guess I'm going back to the days of "just peanut butter." Only this time, I'm not tearing up from the gagging - only tears of joy fall from my happy eyes as I consume one of man's greatest inventions since fire.

Ode to Peanut Butter

You comfort, you satiate, you nutty up my life
In ice cream, you balance the sweetness so right
On apples, you embrace the fiberous fruit
With bananas, a match made in heaven pursues
In oatmeal, you knock out my hunger till lunch
Your savory goodness packs a mighty mean punch
Oh peanut butter... sweet peanut butter
How much I love thee...
I'd rather walk the plank than develop a peanut allergy.

The End

Personal Reflections about MJ's Passing

Michael Jackson was my very first crush! I would buy those goofy teen magazines and tape his pictures to my bedroom wall. I would even go as far as kissing them before I went to bed at night. I was a hopeless case and my mother would roll her eyes at my silliness but I was smitten for many years. To me, Michael was Mr. Perfect - he was an angel and when I listened to his music or watched him on TV, I felt alive. My friends and I would carry a boom box around at recess, blasting his music; we would skip in unison and talk about how much we were in love with the King of Pop. We traded MJ stickers, wore MJ buttons on our jean jackets - we were obsessed and you couldn't tell us NOTHIN'.

When he passed away on June 25, I cried with the rest of the world. I wept for his family, his fans, and for his premature departure. We didn't just lose a performer - we lost an icon, an innovator, and a legend. Michael was about to make the comeback of the century and it breaks my heart that we never got to see him shine again.

I bumped heads with several people I know when they expressed an indifferent or negative reaction in the days following MJ's passing. The lack of compassion some people have disappoints me. I don't understand how callous some people can be - I wanted to ask them "Where is your heart?" I'll pray for them and hope that someday, they will be willing to dig a little deeper into their feelings and be more empathetic and sensitive to life.

I bid MJ farewell yesterday during his respectful tribute and celebration of his life. What a lonely life he must have led, despite being in the spotlight for all those years. Misunderstood, misjudged, and now, missed.

See you soon, MJ. Thank you for sharing your gifts with us and for bringing the world together for a few precious moments.

July

Deanna is visiting Jerry and his family until the end of the month. I miss her but I'm also enjoying the downtime. You never stop being a parent but you learn to appreciate the occasional breaks where you're not cleaning up after someone, worrying about cooking dinner every night, or just always being in "mom mode." My days are quieter - I come home to an empty house (with the exception of my dog Roach a.k.a. McRib) and I spend most of the evening watching a movie, reading, or writing. A few of my associates seem to think I'm itching to go out for nightly happy hours and to become a reckless party animal but that's not my style - it never has been.

My only goals for July are to continue spending time with my loved ones and taking care of me. This year has been a great one and I am surrounded by a diverse and delightful group of friends. I feel so fortunate!

Ugly Betty

There are some days when I feel ugly, inside and out. Today is one of them.

Tomorrow will be different and I'll laugh about how stupid today was but right now, all I want to do is disappear and forget about the rest of the world.

Helena Handbasket