Going To Bed Early

I didn't make it to the gym today, nor did I make it to a yoga class. In spite of this, I did have an unusually productive day today. I did freelance work for four hours and I took care of some necessary internet chores. I took a shower and I fed myself: 12-14 baby carrots, two gooey wheat-free chocolate maroon fudge cups, one quinoa black bean vegetable salad, spicy mac & cheese with prosciutto, tuna, peas and broccoli, milk, blackberry soda, one bag greasy popcorn.

I'm currently watching What Women Want and I am not proud of that fact. I also watched parts of The Wedding Date and The Perez Family. It was a busy day. Yesterday I paid all my bills and did some online banking. I've been eating too much sugar lately. It's making me emotionally volatile. More whole grains, less sugar = happy, stable Sarah.

Last weekend, I taught my niece and nephew how to say Cyclops. I was alone with them on the 2nd floor of my brother's house and I felt obligated to entertain them to keep them from tumbling down the stairs. I was putting in my contacts and May and Ben toddled into the bathroom after me. To keep them rapt, I explained what contacts were for as I put them in my eyes. As I was putting in the second contact, I informed them that I have two contacts because I have two eyes, one contact for each eye. However, not everyone has two eyes. "Do you know what they call someone who has one eye? A Cyclops." These poor kids don't know their Greek mythology yet. I'm relieved to discover that I have plenty of fresh ancient stories to keep them interested in Aunt Sawah. May learned Cyclops very well and we were also able to teach Benjamin how to say Cyclops, although it sounded a bit like "Ky-Kops."

Rats and Promises

Three days ago, I was planning to go the gym. There is a pseudo-pilates class there that I love. It's pseudo because it's called Ballet Body Yoga Mind, but it also incorporates many of the moves of Pilates, yoga and ballet training. I like it; the teacher is a very chill Park Slope woman with undyed hair and baggy clothes. She is soothing. However, I have not been to the gym in several weeks and I felt very tired and hungry. With the excuse of my healing sprained foot I decided to curtail my plans and walk over to read in Prospect Park until dusk, then grocery shop and eat.

On my way to the park, I passed the Grand Army Plaza park which is actually very forest-like and dense. It's also a rat paradise land. I saw several rats crawling in and out of the fence cruising over to the wire garbage cans. One garbage can had SEVEN rats crawling in and out of it and up and down it. My mother once said that rats are the wild animals of NYC. With the addition of pigeons, I would concur. Anyhow, I sat on one of the park benches (as far away from the garbage as I could position myself) and read my copy of A Streetcar Named Desire. The garbage can on the other side of the park bench had about four rats crawling in and out of it. Five pages later, a jogger came by and she was side-tracked by the number of rats. She was very disgusted. I laughed aloud and realizing that I was appearing insane, I decided to give up my attempt to brave the rats for my piece of wilderness and forge ahead to the Park Slope Food Co-op.

There I learned that my Work Alert had transformed itself into a Suspension, but I did have a 2 week grace period to shop in. Awesome. I felt a little stressed out by this circumstance, so I have promised myself that I will do my make-up shift this Monday night after my regularly scheduled monthly shift as a "Food Processer." Food Processing is a nice shift for me, because you lurk in the basement and weigh almonds, tea, dried fruit and slice cheese. Then you package everything and weigh and label it. It's fairly boring, but you are not around the frenetic shoppers and sometimes you can illegally sample food. I am very responsible and usually I don't miss my shift, because I obey rules.

I missed my last Food Processing shift because I was on a wedding odyssey. I went to my cousin's wedding in Sun River, OR. It was an incredibly fun wedding. Stay tuned for the upcoming blog entry giving you exclusive coverage of the Kelly-Michael wedding. I've been to 4 weddings this year. So far. And there's a fifth one that happened today in Chicago, however I couldn't make that one. I also went to Andrea Schripsema's wedding near Bloomington, IL. She didn't have a wedding website for her wedding, but she did have boat rides on a lake and a campfire. We've known each other since we were infants. I owe my readers many blog entries, and I solemnly promise to do some make-up blog entries that will take you back in time to cover some of the weeks of my life you have missed out on. (Insert emoticon of tounge sticking out here.) One thing, I should confess is that I have become a chat monster. If you're on gmail, won't you IM with me?

Update From The Beach

I'm out at the pink castle today. The pink castle is where Grandma Tina lives. A lot of authentic Long Islanders live here too. After lunch today I went to the beach and felt very unusual because of my pale skin and lack of a loud family. I saw a young pair arrive and settle very close to my spot. The girl was talking fairly loudly on her cell phone, but I managed to concentrate mainly on my novel, The Devil Wears Prada, and only marginally on her conversation. She was sorry she had missed someone's birthday, etc., etc. She had a very scratchy sultry voice. Many long island women do. Next to her, the guy (early 20's), was not thin and smoked a cigar. At first I thought they were a couple, but later I thought they could just have easily been brother and sister. A mom-like person arrived along with several other adults over the age of 40. When a blond woman with a very pink headband and matching swimsuit (50ish in age) shifted her chair to face the sun and me, I was forced to consider my relocation options. She was unbelievably loud. Most long islanders should really consider voice training as a career option; they are sooooo loud. (No offense meant, Sara Yaz.) They could really teach quiet actors to use their diaphragms.

I always feel a bit surreal when I'm out at the pink castle beach house. I feel incredibly single, even though I'm not any more single than I am normally. Family situations tend to heighten my present conditions and general outlook on life. I have to scrounge up joyful stories and interesting job tidbits. I had a glimpse of my dad's sandaled feet today. I think I've mentioned this before, but it bears repeating: He has had his big toenails surgically removed. It is disgusting. His shriveled raw and ragged naked big toes are perhaps one of the most repulsive things a spoiled rich American might have to view in any given Summer.

Last night I ate 3 pecan rolls, from a tray of 8 pecan cinnamon rolls for 79cents. I felt slightly guilty, but mostly I relished them for four reasons. 1) It was midnight. 2) There was no brown rice available. 3) I used to eat them all the time before the age of 20. I purchased them from Piggly Wiggly. 4) They tasted delicious despite the slightly metallic taste. Today I ate: poached salmon with onions, roasted lamb, italian sausage, prosciutto, mozzerella with tomato, broccoli rabe, red wine, pink bubbly wine, white wine, one sliver zucchini, red peppers, grilled onions, pickled onions, tuna, dark green salad, warm gooey baked brie, water, yellow pepper, and now I have to sign off to see what's for dessert.