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Showing posts from February, 2010

Richter Scale

borrowed from a beautiful ghost

The greatest show on Earth

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Aren't they cute!
I'd give anything to be at the Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympics this year; kicking myself for missing the chance to get a ticket. But with the Winter Olympics returning every four years--2014 in Sochi, Russia--and the Summer Olympics sitting comfortably in between, there is never any short supply of Olympic competition and an opportunity for future attendance.

I am so inspired when I see these young athletes following their dreams and doing what it is they love; what they work so hard for all year round, year after year. All of the hours of training, the miles, the structure, the dedication, the obedience (a cross-country/biathlon athlete trains 6,000 miles a year). The condition of their elite bodies is exceptional, and if that's not enough to make you want to stop eating potato chips and start hitting the slopes/ice/track, then I don't know what will. Rocketing down solid ice alpine mountains at 70mph, torpedoing down the luge track at 90mph, or soa…

Bon Appétit

December 9, 2009
I ate my first yogurt today in a year... a year, I tell you!
How miraculous is that?
Pretty dang miraculous for someone who now lives on sad and sorry tofu dogs, and pureed porridge.

This rare, but splendid pleasure was inspired after watching the film Julie & Julia. Crazy you must say, perhaps I should have been dipping my spoon into a vat of butter. Alas, no. After watching recipe after recipe be spread out with pound and pound of churned cream, it was a closing portion of one of Julie's blogs that inspired me to experiment. After explaining how great Julia Child is for never giving up, and for never letting her world endeavors interfere with her marriage, Julie exclaims she too must master these talents and learn to be a better wife to her 'Saint of a husband'. She simply surrenders the evening whilst lonely beef bourguignon sits cooling on the dinner table. Her husband has left after scolding her on her blogging self-centered ways. And in clos…

Time Machine

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After a 33 hour weekend... ah hell, who cares about the numbers anymore. It was worth it.

Guess it almost always was.

I'm going to miss those goons. See you soon.

Love.








p.s. Will someone please take care of the recyclables? Thanks...