Love, Food and Art

Whether you were celebrating or boycotting, I hope you all had a nice Valentine's Day. Mine was even better than expected thanks in part to a last-minute offer by my wonderful stepsister to take the boys overnight. (In case you've ever thought of making such an offer to a parent that you care about, let me assure you that there is no greater gift.)

We celebrated with the boys during the day by eating some heart-shaped pizza. Then once they left for their overnight adventure, we had to figure out what to do with ourselves. We assumed dinner anywhere nice was sort of out since we didn't have reservations, but we decided to take our chances at the bar of an Italian place and since we got there before 6 p.m. (yes, we know how to party), we got a table! 

Now, let me preface all this by saying that I suspended my calorie counting for the night because calorie counting is neither fun nor romantic. So along with some lovely Shiraz, we shared some overly creative bruschetta and then some lobster fettuccini, which was yummy, yummy, yummy. I enjoyed every single calorie. 

We had decided to see "Slumdog Millionaire" after dinner, so we were going to skip dessert and then maybe get some after the movie, but when I saw Bananas Foster on the menu, I knew what I must do.

To assuage my guilt for eating this, I've decided that the pleasure it brought me far outweighs its unhealthy qualities. (I wonder why I can't lose weight?) Seriously, I need a personal trainer purely so that I can eat dessert with every meal. Anyway, dinner was really nice. 

Then there was "Slumdog Millionaire." Amazing. I realize we were late in seeing it, but if any of you haven't seen it yet, go now. It's a beautiful film and a brilliant story. The kind of movie where you leave the theater feeling better for having seen it. And the soundtrack is awesome, too.

All in all, it was a perfect Valentine's Day. No roses or chocolates required. 

Not That I'm Taking the Credit...

I'm thinking that Fabio has a time machine that allowed him to come to the future yesterday, read my blog, accept the challenge of surprising me, and go back in time to last night's episode so that he could not just win the challenge, but kill it with a broken hand. 

How else can you explain his vault from good to "he could open a restaurant tomorrow and this would be his signature dish" great? Luck? Timing? The alignment of stars?

No, time travel (and the reading of my blog) is totally the most plausible explanation. Case closed.

Fabio-lous

Let's have a Top Chef moment, shall we? 

It's been a good season, although the product placement challenges are way out of hand. Was Quaker Oats really hoping to attract a whole new demographic by forcing a bunch of chefs to try to make something edible out of oatmeal and meat? You can see the contempt on all of the contestants' faces every time Padma announces the latest corporate sponsor. 

But anyway, onto more recent events. I was devastated to lose Jamie last week. I was really pulling for her to win the whole thing. Yes, she could be a bitch, but she could also cook, which is more than I can say for Miss "I just kinda gave up" Leah, who is only still there because the producers are hoping she'll hop in bed with someone...anyone.

I like Hosea, but he keeps screwing up. Ditto for Carla, plus I can't tell if she's the right amount of wacko or too much. I can't stand Stefan. I'm sure he cooks good food, but his pomposity is grating. 

Which leaves me rooting for Fabio tonight. I've found him (and his complete frustration with the competition: "Thatsa not cooking, thatsa rushing.") endearing for weeks, but I'm not sure if he's strong enough to win it. Still, I'm hoping he'll surprise me...or, at the very least, not get eliminated tonight. Go Fabio!

Working it Out

My sweet little Aidan stuck this note to my computer today. 

List of Jobs:

T.G.I. Friday's

I'm guessing that, in his mind, the only thing better than me working at Friday's would be if he could work there. 

As my dismal job search leads me to applying for positions that I was probably more qualified for at age 18, this note is a nice reminder that a job is a job and it makes no difference to any of the important people in my life. Granted, some pay a hell of lot better than others, but I've probably spent far too long identifying too much of myself through my career (a career that I haven't even liked much for years). 

So yes, while I would prefer to be offered a well-paying position in which I could use my journalism degree in some capacity, I'm getting over this idea that it really matters what I do. It doesn't have to be forever, it just has to get us through for now. It might even be fun to have a zero responsibility job again. For a little while. Just until I write that best-selling novel... 

The New Leaf I Am Peeking Under

I have returned from Las Vegas. It was an interesting trip. I watched one of my BFFs jump out of a plane from 3 miles in the air. I went to a gun range and shot a glock (and was unexpectedly shaken up by the experience). I saw first-hand that Liberace was a megalomaniac. And I learned that going to Las Vegas with people who don't want to spend a lot of time eating, drinking or gambling is kind of dumb...on everyone's part. 

So here I am, home again, with an intensified focus on the lose weight/spend less challenge. Obviously my trip to Las Vegas ran counter to both of those goals (although I won $346 on a Monopoly machine!!!), but I am ready to get back on the horse. I am proud to report that today I both exceeded my grocery bill goal (as in, I was under $75) and I launched a weeklong calorie counting experiment. 

It's pretty much what it sounds like: I'll be counting the calories I eat and trying to stay under a certain number. (I know you're thinking that this is something most normal people do but, like exercise, it's new to me.)  I suppose that makes it a diet, but since I don't really do diets, I prefer to think of it as an experiment. We'll see if I can make my goal for 7 days straight and then I'll think about whether I want to continue it. 

As day one draws to a close, I can report that I successfully met my goal and that I already don't like it. However, I'm accepting the unfortunate fact that it is highly unlikely that I will ever follow an exercise routine intense enough to let me eat whatever I want without continuing to gain weight, so I have to reign in the calories. Bummer. 

In anticipation of starting this experiment, I had my first anxiety dream about it last night. I was at a movie theater, holding the popcorn in my hands, ready to put the butter on it, and I thought, "But wait! I'm watching my calories!" And then I slathered the butter on and ate it anyway. 

Sign of things to come? Stay tuned. 

Happy Trails

Waking up before it's light outside so I can finish packing a suitcase and head for the airport makes me feel like a grown up. More accurately, it brings back memories of sitting on my mom's bed on many a dark morning as she prepared to go on another business trip. 

But it's a good memory...even though I didn't go with her on those trips, there was something special about those mornings. Maybe it was just the break in the routine, or the fact that I often got to go stay with one of my friends while she was gone, but there is something so cozy and comforting about that memory. 

Which is all to say that I don't mind early flights. It feels right to get up early and get on the plane before I'm fully awake. If I could be transported from my bed to the plane while I was sleeping, so I would simply awake when the captain announced our descent...well, I'd pay extra for that. 

And so I am off to the ding-ding-ding of slot machines that no longer spit out actual money, so they have to recreate that sound electronically. (I suppose it would be creepy if the casino wasn't filled with constant noise.) I am off to get a little sunshine and have a lot of fun. See you next week!

Insight and Understanding

There have been times on this autism journey with Owen that I have wondered if we might not all have been better off had he never been diagnosed. He is generally so high functioning that his autistic traits usually appear more as quirks than anything and sometimes I wonder if this label that's he's been saddled with will do more harm than good. 

But then I read John Elder Robison's* blog today about the value of neuro-psychological testing and it reminded me that I am grateful to have a better understanding of my son -- and that he will grow up with a better understanding of himself -- and that it's not the label I hate, it's just the lack of understanding and support that goes with it. 

Obviously, that's changing and I hope that it will continue to change as Owen gets older. And I hope he can find inspiration in people like Mr. Robison so he can go forward knowing that being different can be amazing. 

*If you haven't yet read his book, "Look Me In the Eye: My Life with Asperger's," run out and buy it now. It not only provides insight into Asperger's, but it's just a really good story on its own. The guy toured with KISS!