Friday, September 28, 2012

Dog Love

Rather than writing about how glad I am that it is Friday, I thought I'd write a bit about something that's been bothering me for awhile. Namely, dog love. More specifically, David's love for Haruki.

You see, I'm a little worried that David loves Haruki more than me.

Actually, they kind of look alike, don't they?

Seriously. David Haruki--even so much that he let her sleep on the bed when we were in a hotel in Aspen. (He means business when it comes to getting his sleep, and a dog on the bed would otherwise be out of the question.)

Exhibit A: The wallpaper on David's phone is a picture of Haruki doing this:

He dotes on her. He babies her. He spoils her. He pets her more than he pets me. He is completely enchanted by her.

They both look mad that I'm interrupting their quality alone time, don't they?

Even when she is bad, he still can't get over how cute and sweet she is. He sends me texts that are solely about how great Haruki is.

He also won't shut up about her bottom, which has become massively muscular since she came to live with us, and also since we started letting her go off leash around our house. (Haruki is a walking advertisement that proves how running uphill will beef up your backside.) David is sooo proud that his dog is a fit, athletic super dog. (This gives me some unwanted perspective about how he must look at me when I'm in a lazy stupor on the couch. :-))

I love Haruki too. And I know that David doesn't really love the dog more than me. (I know because I ask him all the time.) But still, I'm kind of jealous of Haruki. She doesn't make David dinner like I do, but she's still got him wrapped around her little paw, and David even seems to enjoy being her bitch.

The other component of this issue is that David is now Haruki's favorite person, and instead of looking at me like I'm the best thing ever, she waits for me when I get home only to look slightly less excited than if I were David. Boo.

*How are the pet dynamics in your home? Does the dog/cat like one person over another? Does your spouse like one person/animal over another?

OK, I'm off to get a haircut before meeting some girlfriends for dinner on Pearl Street. Yes, girlfriends. Actually, I don't have more than two girlfriends, but a friend from the gym invited me out for girls' night with her girlfriends. Maybe I'll pick up a Victoria's Secret teddy and wear it to the bar just for girly solidarity...

Thursday, September 27, 2012


Thank goodness it is Thursday. And, thank goodness that we got some clouds and rain today here in Boulder. The only downside of the rain is that living on a dirt road + rainstorms + Haruki's paws =

Aside from wiping off Haruki's paws, I've had a pretty low-key day. I worked for awhile from home, went to a class at my gym, and then went to see my doctor about the blood work that I had done about two weeks ago. Apparently my adrenal system/thyroid are fatigued, likely still from the damage I did to my bad self when I was anorexic. In addition, my iron levels are v. low, which means I got to start taking an iron supplement today. Woohoo! David suggests prunes for low iron, but really, how many prunes can a single person eat?!!

In other news, we got David's iPhone 5 Popsockets prototypes! Actually, to be specific, I drove an hour to get them and David agreed to spend time with me in public as a trade-off. Check it out:

This is the most Nikki cleavage that you'll see on this blog. 

So, what do you all think? Was it worth waiting in line for three hours for the iPhone 5 so David could get these prototypes? And, honestly, do Popsockets look like a case that you might like? You can be honest with me, since I didn't actually invent them--I've just listened to David talk about them for the last two years. Nonstop. Seriously. Nonstop.

Personally, I think they are a good idea, especially for people who use their headsets a lot. I've been a bit reluctant because I like things that are simple, clean, and non-bulky. But David's really worked on the design to slim this case down, so I might even use Popsockets when he finally manufactures them. Actually, if I didn't put Popsockets on my phone David might divorce me.

*Was your blog post today also boring? What do you do when you have nothing clever to say yet you still need to put a post up?

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Weather F-ers

Do the weather peeps in your "neck of the woods" suck a$$? It was supposed to be cloudy and rainy all day today, but here it is, noon-thirty, and it's sunny. Still a bit cloudy but sunny nonetheless. It was kind of rainy this morning:

However, I was really looking forward to a whole day of rainy gloominess. Rain and clouds aren't usually my thing; actually, the cloudy weather during the Iowa winter is largely why I moved back to Colorado to finish my undergraduate degree. But it's been so hot this summer that even I'm craving some dark and rainy days.

Ahem. I definitely digress. The real subject of my post today is my recent exposure to two mainstream magazines that feature lots o' pics of the ladies.

The first magazine to which I'm referring is Glamour. A copy of it was left behind in my gym locker room, so I took a gander and realized a few things:

1) I don't give a shit about fashion. I mean, who can read an entire magazine that is only showing pictures of clothing, accessories, and cosmetics? Oh yeah, with the odd quiz about determining the security of your relationship thrown in.

2) People who read Glamour must like to shop.

With those two Earth-shattering points, I'll move to my next magazine exposure, which was a Victoria's Secret catalogue that was sent to me at my home.

I have no idea why or how I got this, as I certainly have never given VS my address. Actually, I've never ordered anything from VS, and the last time I bought anything from the actual store was about ten years ago. Victoria's Secret is scary, and I always felt embarrassed at the prospect of walking around the mall with a bright pink bag that screamed, "HEY!! I wear special sexy clothing on my vag and boobs!" (Rereading that makes me wonder what I would've been like if I hadn't been raised with two brothers and no sisters.)

Anyway, looking through the catalogue made me wonder about a few things:

1) Does anyone really buy clothing from Victoria's Secret? I mean, excepting "clothing" that is meant to be quickly removed and/or sweat pants or pajama bottoms that say "PINK!" on the ass panel?

2) Is flashing your cleavage an every day occurrence for women other than me?

I'm definitely prudish and a body-shy, but come on!!! Is this really normal workday wear? I'm not a lesbian, but I would be unable to focus if I was working with this woman and I could see a perfect outline of her bits! (Yes, bits.)

3) Shouldn't Victoria's Secret be, like, pros at airbrushing?

Um, what happened to this girl's chest? There's some kind of strange shadow above her right breast that doesn't quite pair with her left breast or the shadow that is supposedly meant to be her sternum. (BTW, the sternum is where it's at now. If you are thin enough you can actually accessorize it and get piercings for it just like you would your nose.) Am I the only one who sees this? Am I the only one who thinks it's strange that the entire VS collection of clothing is meant to prove to everyone that the wearer definitely has boobs?

OK, sorry. I'm going to stop here and refrain from a cliché rant about how little girls hate themselves because of pictures like this.

That's not really my point, anyhow. What the VS catalogue really made me realize isn't that peeps like seeing pictures of "perfect" (read: thin and yes somehow still well endowed?!!) women. It's that I am completely removed from the reality depicted in this catalogue. Does that make sense? These models might as well be aliens to me. Relatedly, where the f--k are the women for whom this catalogue is made? Am I a mutant?!! Do you all buy your clothing and lingerie from Victoria's Secret?

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Paisley and Willow

Hey-o, peeps! I realize that I don't usually post this early in the day, but I thought I'd give it a go since I'm up early and procrastinating my "real" work. How does it feel to know that you are not my "real" work? This blog is kind of like a mistress to my dissertation "spouse." For all you non-literary types who don't appreciate figurative devices, I'm saying that I use you for distraction when I don't feel like writing more serious and smart stuff. Another word for it would start with a "W" and end with an "E." First person to figure out the crossword gets a grainy picture of my breakfast--GO!

In other news, I went in for a shift at the humane society yesterday. With the wedding and our house and my three weeks of boo-hooing, it had been some time since I'd been to walk the shelter dogs, and it felt good to be back again.

So, without further adieu, meet Paisley and Willow!


I really liked Paisley. When I did the "love test" she came right over. What's the love test, you ask? Well, I sit on a bench and wait to see if the dog comes over to me for petting and general loving-ness. Some dogs don't respond to this at all, but Paisley was very affectionate and sweet.

Next I walked Willow, who is a six month year-old German Shepherd mix.

That last picture is of the fur patterns on Willow's back. Isn't that cute? Hmmm. Now that I'm looking at that picture it looks like I've dropped Willow's leash. Whoops. That's definitely not humane society policy--to let shelter dogs free. Luckily I'm confident that no one from the humane society reads my blog.

You can see more about these dogs and the Boulder Valley Humane Society here:

Walking these dogs makes me feel a little bit less guilty about my next post segment, which concerns finger puppets. I'm sure, like Joanna, you were all waiting to hear what these finger puppets were for. The finger puppets are another of David's genius ideas, meant to solve the problem of these:

Clicking against the windowsills every time the wind blows. We tried full-sized socks for awhile, but according to David these finger puppets are really going to change our lives.

Like so:

It kind of looks like we are into some kind of sick voodoo shit, doesn't it? Maybe that's incentive for you all to make nice in the comments section; if you don't I'll take one of these puppies down and start pricking it while I think about your face. Muahaha... (P.S. I had to Google muahaha. What a stupid word.)

OK, I'm off to run before my Body Pump class. After that I'm going to work at a coffee shop in town. I figure I'm too embarrassed to sleep in a public coffee shop, so hopefully I'll get through page eight of this blasted introduction.

*Have you ever put a hex on someone?

Monday, September 24, 2012


Let's just call today Moanday, shall we?

OK, not really, today hasn't been all that bad. I'm only complaining because I've been stuck at home all afternoon while a photographer takes pictures for our engineer. I also had to shove a bunch of our shit into drawers and cabinets because apparently the engineer doesn't want our cheap shit in the pictures of this supposedly fancy home. Wah wah, right?

Anyway, on to the weekend recap!

You all know how Friday started out, but you don't know how it ended up. Well, after waiting in line for three hours with a bunch of Apple idiots, I got David his iPhone 5. Actually, it's my iPhone 5, since David wasn't eligible for an upgrade yet. HA! (Though I do have to give it up to him [the phone] whenever he needs it to take measurements and do other Popsockets stuff.)

Me getting a new phone drastically and immediately improved the quality of my photos, as evident in the pics I took when David and I went out to dinner with my brother Chris and his wife Sarah. We went to The Kitchen Next Door, and even got to sit outside!

For dinner, I had the beet burger with a small arugula salad.

It was meh. I've had it before and liked it, but this time the beet burger just tasted mushy. That little plate in the back was for the hummus appetizer we ordered and which I neglected to photograph. Too bad the iPhone 5 won't just take the initiative and take blog pictures for me. Wah wah.

After dinner, we walked on Pearl St. for a bit before stopping so that David could buy some finger puppets. Yes, seriously.

Who wants to guess why David wanted finger puppets? (BTW, even the lady selling the finger puppets laughed at David because he wanted to buy them.)

Also, Sarah found the perrrrrfect hat:

Sarah only looks this pained when she is very, very happy:-)

So, Friday wuz good: it was nice to see my fam, to walk on Pearl St., and to drink beer.

Saturday was a bit more low key but still satisfying. David and I did something we haven't done in awhile: we went to the Boulder Farmer's Market!

I have no photos of the produce that I bought. But suffice to say that it felt really good to be outside and shopping for local produce, knowing that I was going to cook with it rather than watch it rot in my refrigerator because I was too depressed to cook anything.

Saturday night was spent inside, watching The Dictator. Sigh. That was David's choice. It was funnier than I expected, though watching it with David while he laughed hysterically really made me question that he is forty-one and not fourteen.

And finally, Sunday. Sunday was great! It started off bright and early with a bike ride up to Jamestown with my brother Chris and my Dad. We haven't ridden together since our trip to Crested Butte over a month ago, so it was really nice to enjoy the outdoors and ride bikes with them.

Chris doesn't like having his picture taken so I made sure to make this one extra big. Since he said my thighs are looking extra big I figured that was only fair:-)

Smile. Riding bikes is fun. Only a few more weeks left until it starts to get too cold...

*Has fall hit where you are yet? Have you seen The Dictator? If yes, did you like it?

Friday, September 21, 2012

ED Reflections, no. 7

Holy balls it's early, eh? You might be wondering why I'm up so early on a Friday morning, and you'd be right, because this is nuttzo. The reason I'm up so early (5 a.m.!) is that I'm the best wife in the world. Yup. And the best wife in the world agreed to get up early to wait in line at the Apple store for the iPhone 5 release so that David can get an iPhone 5 and start making prototypes and molds for his iPhone 5 Popsockets. And yes, I do realize that lotsa peeps get up at five a.m. everyday, but I'm no longer one of those people, and it was pretty absurd when my alarm this morning went off that early.

So here I am, sitting with my Apple computer amidst a bunch of Apple freaks who just couldn't live without an iPhone 5 for another day. Geez. And, not surprisingly, they are mostly male, and prolly talking frantically about their Linked In profiles or something.

Whew. OK, rant over. But David owes me.

Today's post picks up where my last ED Reflections post left off, namely, with me complaining about how I started yakking. I don't want to add too much detail to that, exactly, but I will say that from the time of my first purge--eighteen--until I was about twenty-one years old, I consistently struggled with disordered thoughts and periods of binging and purging.

By the time I had turned twenty or twenty-one, however, I was living in Boulder in a dorm specifically for "scholars," i.e. people who could beat the school average of C-. I was happy here, and met and began dating my only serious college boyfriend. But binging and purging quickly became the only way that I could deal with stress and the big, fatty meals that our chef prepared for us. It's also around this time that I finally confessed to my parents that I was bulimic and began seeing a therapist.

My first therapist was a bit of a nightmare. She was about forty-five to fifty years old and usually wore mini-skirts to our sessions. (And I mean mini-skirts.) I didn't dislike her because she wore mini-skirts per se, though we did lack a deeper connection that made any kind of real recovery possible. In general she just didn't get me, even to the point that she suggested I'd been abused as a girl when I'm pretty (mega) confident that I wasn't.

I stayed in therapy from a few months to a year, until I hit a good streak of time where I was lessening or quitting my ED behaviors. That is, after a couple of good weeks, I decided to quit. Ha. Classic and idiotic therapy move.

Unfortunately, from that time until the age of about twenty-five, I just continued on my crap-path of trying to get by. I was usually desperate to lose weight and thus constantly dieting and thus frequently binging and purging. Hint: starving yourself makes you go berserk when you finally do eat. This seems obvious now, though at the time I didn't feel like I had any other choice.

I just felt trapped. So trapped, and scared, and even though I didn't realize it then, angry too.

OK, with that I'll leave it. It's not freezing outside, but my fingers are starting to get cold and confused about what they're supposed to do with the keys on my keyboard.

I hope you all have a wonderful fall weekend! Eat something pumpkin!

*Will you get an iPhone 5? Do you hate Apple products? Will you get an iPhone 5 even though you hate Apple products (and culture)?

Thursday, September 20, 2012

Cooking Monster

OK, it's official: I'm feeling better since my post-Prozac depression. Whew. Sigh. Thank goodness. If you don't believe me, just look back at what a cooking monster I've been all week. And today was no exception.

For breakfast I used a new kind of almond milk and diced up some strawberries for my oatmeal. I also added cinnamon and vanilla extract. I like to watch it bubble...mmm.

Before I eat it:

To be honest, I've never really understood the craze about oatmeal. I mean, when it's covered in sugary things of course it tastes good--duh. But I hesitate to pour brown sugar on anything so early in the morning and thus I've never really thought oatmeal sounded that good. I'd much rather have toast and peanut butter with some fruit. But lately I've started eating it because it keeps me full for a long time. And when you eat every single f-ing bite with some kind of nut butter it really pumps up what can be a pretty boring food.

After breakfast I went for a run at the gym, followed by a Body Pump class. Instead of beeline-ing it to Whole Foods after class, I was responsible and came home for lunch. David says we can't afford to spend 90% of our income on prepared foods at Whole Foods anymore, so today I ate a bunch of beans that I cooked in the skillet, along with some asiago cheese, hot sauce, and brown rice chips. Geez I'm a hippy freak.

Dinner was another pasta dish. Again, I don't usually like pasta, but I'm really giving it a whirl since I had pasta at our friend Rob's house. Tonight I tried making my own pesto to throw on some pasta and zucchini.

This looks all professional and clean. But this is what the countertop looks like:

Yah. That "pesto" is really just me throwing cashews, basil, asiago cheese, and a boatload of olive oil into our blender. I'm too lazy to even get out the nice food processor my Mom got us for last Christmas. I can't even imagine cleaning the f-ing thing. (Sorry, Mom.)

Everything was going really well, and I had everything cooked and ready to throw all together when Haruki decided to go MIA on us. So instead of tossing the pasta, the zucchini, and the pesto together in one orgasmic Italian-esque pasta moment, I had to leave everything sitting on the counter while David and I walked around our house calling for the dog. We found her, eventually, freaking her shit about some little creature hiding underneath some boards stacked up at our neighbor's house.

Anyway, by the time we got her back and I tossed everything together, the noodles had hardened a bit and looked like this:

Sigh. At least it tasted good, and David seemed to enjoy it.

Seriously! I swear it was good and he did like it!!

*How much do you care about how a food looks? i.e., will you still eat something even if it looks like vomit?

Wednesday, September 19, 2012


Happy Humpday, y'all! I hope you celebrate with some ... ahem, not humping.

Over here at NCK, it was just another jam-packed humpday. (Take that how you will.)

This morning I hit up my usual Bootcamp class, after which I busted my a$$ to get showered and head down to Denver to meet my friend Shannon for lunch. Shannon and I have been friends ever since we did our Master's together, but since she and her husband moved to Denver we don't see each other quite as often.

A self-portrait on the drive down:

I'm posting this even though my chin looks like an acne dart board and my underarm area looks like a big sloppy slab of jello.

Actually, that reminds me that I shouldn't be talking shit about myself. It's not good for my self esteem, apparently. Also, I need to learn how to take a compliment. Last week a girl at my gym said I looked "so pretty" after I had showered and changed. Instead of saying thank you, I said, "You mean instead of sweaty and scuzzy like usual?" Heh.

Anyhow, here's another shot that the police will use against me if I'm ever in a car accident and they're trying to decide if I am a responsible driver:

Denver through my car's "eyes."

For lunch, Shannon, her baby Priya, and I went to Annie's, which is a little diner on East Colfax. They didn't have much vegetarian food, so I settled for a salad. I know, whomp whomp, boo salad. But at least it had feta and strawberries and orange pieces. And spinach instead of iceberg lettuce!

Excuse the crap photo...for some reason I couldn't get my camera to focus.

After lunch, I walked a bit and admired the Denver streets.

I really like living in Boulder, and in the mountains in particular, but there is something special about walking around a city in the fall.

Post-walk I headed to the Tattered Cover, a local bookstore, to work a bit before a work meeting at two p.m.

Post-meeting I drove home and promptly shoved food in my face because a salad just doesn't cut it for me. Yes, that means that I ate dinner at five p.m., but WTF? Spinach alone doesn't keep me this hilarious and peppy, so I had to dose myself with something more substantial. Like an egg. A fried egg, to be exact.

On top of a big bowl of Amy's Black Bean soup, with almond cheese shreds all up in the mix. It was good, but it brings me to my real post topic, which is eggs. I like scrambled eggs. Up until now, that's all I've liked. I do not like runny eggs oozing their fetus-like slime all over toast, oatmeal, sandwiches, etc. But recently I realized that I might also like fried eggs "hard up," i.e. when they don't seem quite so much like an embryo. And holy pot pie, I was right! And it's so easy to cook when you've got a slightly greasy cast-iron pan sitting on your stove all.the.time.

All of this is really context for me to ask you all how you eat your eggs. In particular, how do you eat them if how you like them is all runny and stuff? I mean, what about runny eggs is good? What do you do to the eggs to make chicken fetus tasty?*

*I apologize if the disgusting-ness of my descriptions of eggs gross anyone out. Email me if you're disgusted by my description and yet you still eat runny eggs. There are probably research psychologists who are looking for peeps like you.