Bea Arthur and I are in charge bitches!

“Head Bitch in Charge” Badge



Being the leader of the pack means a very different thing for grown-ass women than it does for the Regina Georges of this world. As the HBIC in your world, you are responsible, direct, no-nonsense. You are the one everyone looks to in a crisis. What you lack in male attention, you make up for in cheesecake and badassery. Actually, scratch that: more likely, you don’t lack any kind of attention (just like Dorothy didn’t lack suitors; that lady met dudes all the time and Stan was always waiting in the wings), because damn, girl, you’re the Head Bitch in Charge.

I have earned this motherfuckin badge. Whoop!

Many women as they reach their formative years of the late twenties, early thirties question their value on this Earth if they’re single. Well this is not you. Being single is neither a disability nor a punishment, it is a choice. It’s a choice you made when you decided to break up with the chubby tambourine player/EMT or the Australian foreign exchange student with hair better than yours and a penchant for graphic tees. It is the realization that you get to pick who is worth your time and not the other way around. It is your choice to fall madly in love with the capable, beautiful woman you are. You will not just live a small life behind a picket fence, but see the world and let the world see you the way you are meant to be seen. Getting to know you is what counts, and you can turn to your disillusioned (but just as wonderful) female comrades and say to them, even if I never marry I shall be the happiest woman in the world - I have a big life, a real life, and a life where I made my dreams come true. Maybe you’ll inspire them too as you wear your I Am Free Badge.

To the dude on the subway who refused to move over.

I have been giving the side eye on the regular. To strangers....mostly. I'm fucking sick and tired of being exposed to excessive dumb-assery. Everyday, I want to scream at someone to act like they been somewhere. Yet, I must keep my mouth shut and hence, the side eye makes a not-so-subtle appearance. Then I saw this pic and it put my side eye to shame. Ooh Miss Cameroon! You work it woman!

Fall Menu

It's Fall! Mi favorito time of year! The air is brisk, the leaves are changing and gourds are decorating every storefront. I have decided it is time to pull out some soup recipes to enjoy on these crisp days ahead. I am making this one tonight. Bon Apetit!


Curried Squash & Chicken Soup


http://www.eatingwell.com/recipes/curried_squash_chicken_soup.html


Red Thai curry paste adds heat and depth of flavor to this simple soup. If you like, omit the chicken and spinach to make an even simpler first-course soup.

2 servings, 1 3/4 cups each
Active Time: 15 minutes
Total Time: 20 minutes

Ingredients

•1 10-ounce package frozen pureed winter squash

•1/2 cup lite coconut milk, (see Tips for Two)

•1/2 cup water

•8 ounces boneless, skinless chicken breast, thinly sliced

•1 6-ounce bag baby spinach

•2 teaspoons lime juice

•2 teaspoons brown sugar

•1/2-1 teaspoon Thai red curry paste, (see Note)

•1/4 teaspoon salt

Preparation

1.Heat squash, coconut milk and water in a medium saucepan over medium-high heat. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the squash defrosts, about 10 minutes. Add chicken, reduce heat to medium and simmer, stirring occasionally, for 3 minutes. Stir in spinach, lime juice, sugar, curry paste to taste and salt and continue cooking until the chicken is cooked through, about 3 minutes longer.

Nutrition

Per serving : 274 Calories; 7 g Fat; 4 g Sat; 1 g Mono; 63 mg Cholesterol; 22 g Carbohydrates; 28 g Protein; 6 g Fiber; 453 mg Sodium; 1288 mg Potassium



Exchanges: 1 starch, 2 vegetable, 3 very lean meat, 1 fat



Tips & Notes

•Tips for Two: Refrigerate coconut milk for up to 4 days or freeze for up to 2 months. Drizzle on sliced fresh fruit; use as some of the liquid for cooking rice.

•Note: Red curry paste is a blend of chile peppers, garlic, lemongrass and galangal (a root with a flavor similar to ginger). Look for it in jars or cans in the Asian section of the supermarket or specialty stores.

Photo Update

In the spirit of just having looked at Mr. Ortolano's photos, I am reminded that I should put some recent pics up instead of holding them ransom on my BlackBerry.

                                 Hudson River view from Beacon, NY                                

                                 Brooklyn Bridge

                                 Brooklyn Bridge Cityscape

                                 Cortelyou

                                 Hail storm

                                 Hudson sunset

                                 Manhattan Bridge after a million cocktails

Tuesday Confession

I just ate a bag of Doritos and a Twix. Don't judge.

Awkward Turtle

It has been hard for me to find time/energy/interest in writing lately and I'm not sure why. Even my journal has been neglected for the past couple of months. My guru thinks it is because I just don't need to do it and that when I'm ready, the words and motivation will flow again. I seem to come back to this when I'm in a place of confusion or turmoil, but unfortunately, that doesn't make for fun reading. One of the things I'm struggling with is men, dating, expectations, sexuality, etc. Luckily, that subject allows for interesting fodder and examination- of my crazyass.

The man on the train:
So, there's this man that I occasionally have the pleasure of riding the train with, but only when I'm running late for work. When we see one another on the platform, a natural merging occurs- he starts toward me and I start toward him. This is super casual and covert looking (not). Inevitably, we get on the same car and "accidentally" always end up in close proximity to one another. We either stand right next to each other or I sit and he stands above me (insert my fantasy here). This has happened roughly 5 times, so I can't believe this is a fucking coincidence. Here's the problem- I'm too much of a chicken shit for the entire 30 minutes we have on the train to say anything and apparently he is too. We always have on our ipods and the culture of the subway is to never ever ever talk to strangers- even if you want to bone them. If you show interest on public transportation, you look like a creep. However, I think my staring is probably much creepier at this point. The bottom line- I am inept when it comes to picking up men that I allow to intimidate me. And I have a fear of rejection and future awkwardness. Any advice?

I share this story to illustrate what a complete lunatic I am and to make you, fellow reader, feel better about your own ineptitude.

Happy Monday!