How come I only like salad when it has things on it like cheese and that yummy full fat dressing from City Market?

I just can't win.


One for the quote board

A good friend told me tonight:

"You've been like a curator at the Identity Crisis Museum."




Day after I day, I get out of bed, wash my hair and take care of my body as if someone might love it. I layer it with lotions, slide into lacey panties and try to feel pretty. Then I jam twenty-five cent Little Debbie snacks into my mouth on the way home.

Life is painful, but don’t worry for me. I don’t feel any of it. I flit. I flit about, ignoring it, trying to make everyone happy and pleased with me. Or maybe I’m flattering myself. Maybe I don’t flit. Maybe I crash. I crash about, knocking into things, damaging things…people…myself.

And when the tears come, I still can’t sink in. I still can’t feel the pain. I pretend I’m in a movie, crying decadently for the camera. Why do I bother to fight the tears if they don’t matter anyway?



I cam across this tonight:


It's got some interesting news tidbits on the culture of Fat.


Curry Cashew Chicken

And for those of you who like to cook, here's a surprisingly easy recipe for Chicken Curry:

1/2 stick
(1/4 cup) unsalted butter
2 medium onions, finely chopped
(2 cups)2 large garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 tablespoon finely chopped peeled fresh ginger
3 tablespoons curry powder
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon cayenne
1 (3 1/2- to 4-lb) chicken, cut into 10 serving pieces (i used boneless chicken, sliced)
1 (14.5-oz) can diced tomatoes
1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro
3/4 cup cashews
(1/4 lb)3/4 cup plain whole-milk yogurt

Accompaniment: cooked basmati or jasmine rice
Garnish: chopped fresh cilantro

Heat butter in a 5- to 6-quart wide heavy pot over moderately low heat until foam subsides, then cook onions, garlic, and ginger, stirring, until softened, about 5 minutes. Add curry powder, salt, cumin, and cayenne and cook, stirring, 2 minutes. Add chicken and cook, stirring to coat, 3 minutes. Add tomatoes, including juice, and cilantro and bring to a simmer, then cover and simmer gently, stirring occasionally, until chicken is cooked through, about 40 minutes. (If making ahead, see cooks' note, below.)

Just before serving:Pulse cashews in a food processor or electric coffee/spice grinder until very finely ground (i smashed them in a Ziploc baggy), then add to curry along with yogurt and simmer gently, uncovered, stirring, until sauce is thickened, about 5 minutes.

Cooks' note:Curry, without yogurt and cashews, can be made 5 days ahead and cooled completely, uncovered, then chilled, covered. Reheat over low heat before stirring in yogurt and ground cashews.Makes 4 to 6 servings.

January 2005


Running From Ice Cream

So, here I am - blogging. I could never maintain a written journal, so I thought I'd try this. I really don't know who's going to read this or where it's going...but if you're reading my posts, welcome to my brain.

In all honesty, this is more of an experiment.

I'm currently taking a running class for women at a local gym. Today, while running on the indoor track, I heard one soccer-mom type encourage another soccer-mom type, "C'mon, you can do it! Just pretend you're running away from the ice cream!"

After rolling my eyes and making a pretend hurling motion, I thought, "If only that's the only thing I was running from."

You see, I seem to have a problem facing my emotions and letting them out. This problem has lead to a life-long addiction. Since I'm not hip enough to have an addiction to sex or drugs, my vice of choice is food.

It might seem like a clear-cut solution: face your day-to-day emotions, cry if you need to, laugh if you want to, get angry if it makes you feel better...but for some reason, I've been conditioned to force my feelings down. It's like they get caught in my throat and I can't breath unless I shove them down with food.

When I eat, I'm numb. When I eat, I don't have to feel anything - stress, anger, disappointment, joy, love, happiness. I just don't feel. And apparently I'm more comfortable that way.

But, alas, I'm a smart girl. I know this is no way to live a life. Herein lies my life's work. My Everest. I've been on a quest for the last two years to turn this thing around. To live life honestly and without this horrible, unhealthy dark skeleton in my closet.

So, why the blog? Sometimes it's easy not to practice the exercises I've learned to get better. Sometime it's easier to not think about my eating and emotions. So, I'm going to see if writing on this thing everyday helps. I'm wondering if I'll feel a sense of responsibility to keep it updated, thereby keeping my feelings about food in check.

At this point, I'll try anything :)