Comfort food.

As much as Ive struggled in my transition to Oakland there are many facets of my new ‘hood which are better than the ATX!!! I really enjoy.

OAKtown sidewalk surprise!

The canines! The canines!

The lovely lake.

ahhh Lake Merritt.

The farmer’s markets.

Edible FLOWERS?!

Nothing has impacted me as profoundly, however, as our new synagogue (which surprised this Misfit Jew as “non-traditional” doesnt begin to capture my religious approach).

This year we’re participating in Family Sunday School pilot program.

our very serious Sunday School folder.

A few Sundays ago our focus was on traditional foods and what we think of as comfort foods (it’s a misfit synagogue. there was lots of talk about secular Thanksgiving fare).

We went around the room and each had an opportunity to share what sprung to mind after heading the words COMFORT FOOD.

Everything was mentioned from lemon bars to latkes.

fried in OIL, Baby!

As my turn approached (mercifully slooooowed by reminiscing & food-fantasizing) I began to panic.

As we’ve chatted about before –I possess no foods of comfort.

Which isnt to say I didnt eat many of the foods mentioned (except chopped liver. anyone love the chopped liver?)—I just eat them when I crave them and Im done.

No real sense of comfort involved.

As I listened to the powerful memories the comfort foods evoked for my fellow misfit Jews classmates I wondered if  we werent missing out?

If I werent “denying” the Tornado some sort of life-experience as she doesnt really have a comfort food (yet) & not being a foodieMama theres little chance of us creating powerful food memories.

plain plain plain is how I roll.

We “bond” over food (in our own way) yet the majority of the time our bonding has little to do with the food at all.

Id never thought too much about comfort foods.

They arent how I lick my forearms–Im a comfort-MOVIE person–yet that’s all it really seemed to me.

A different approach to self-soothing.

Hearing the powerful connection between comfort foods & family-ties/comfort food’s power to lessen feelings of loneliness  sparked me to wonder if the Tornado is missing out potentially never having fond food memories to reflect back on.

So I look to you during this Thanksgivukkah season of food & family & hit you up with my many queries:

Am I really unique in having few memories which involve/center around food? Do you feel–as I now do–comfort food isnt inherently “bad” just gotten a bad rap?

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Needing and Sharing Comfort Food: It's Human. Dump the Guilt.

Well, it’s time to fix another body part. It’s like I’m in a “Surgery-of-the-Year” club. The dues are pretty high, but what can I do? I need functioning joints if I can get ‘em.
This year, it’s my left shoulder. I didn’t injure it, but due to my “loose ligaments” and arthritis, I tore the supraspinatus muscle, which is part of the rotator cuff, as well as the biceps tendon a few years ago. I was able to rehab with physical therapy and chiropractic (see “It’s All One Big Huge Freaking Circle”), but then in April, I mowed my lawn and made a mediocre problem a bigger problem. I literally tore the crap out of that supraspinatus.

Every night I sleep against a pillow fortress (BF calls it The Great Wall of China) which elevates my arm enough so I can sleep with minimal pain. However, the last few months I’ve been awake most nights at 3 a.m. with a burn in my shoulder so hot I could supply enough energy to keep my town in electricity for a week. (This, in addition to hot flashes, makes my nights really interesting.) I get up and take 2-4 Advil with a glass of soy milk or a piece of cheese because if I don’t, the Advil will eat my gut. Too bad NSAIDs aren’t a weight-loss aid…

In addition to the muscle/tendon tears, I found out today that my biceps tendon is not where it should be and needs to be “moved back into place.” Hmmm… Sounds like fun. Doc will also clean out the arthritis. Afterwards, he’ll stitch and patch me up, put me in a sling, and send me home where I won’t be able to shower or wear a bra for at least a week. Can’t wait. And I wasn’t even a bad girl this year! Santa better treat me well…LOL

Oh, I kid you. It’s not all that bad. It could be a lot worse, I know that. And I could also choose to drown my sorrows in food, which, for a moment, I thought about doing.

As I posted on Lynn’s Weigh on Facebook: “I saw my orthopedic surgeon today and I admit, my first thought after getting into my car after the appointment was, 'I want to eat.' Granted, I was hungry, but I wanted to eat something to console myself. I thought about it and was grateful that I recognized this feeling and met it head on. It didn't stop me from getting vegetarian dolmades at my favorite Greek restaurant, but I understood why I wanted them. And not only are they awesome comfort food, they're not horrible for me, either :)”

I took my dolmades and a Greek salad over to my daughter’s house, where she and the g-babies were eating lunch at the dining room table. I sat down next to Claire and opened the Styrofoam container of dolmades. We all chatted while they ate their chili and I my pieces of grape leaf heaven. Then I opened the container of Greek salad: lettuce, feta, red onions, tomatoes, olives and peperoncini.

“I done, Mama,” said Luca and he got down from his chair. I thought he was going to go play, but as I talked to Cassie, the little munchkin crawled under the table, climbed up on to my lap, grabbed a piece of lettuce and ate it. “Mmmm…” he said.
Claire then said she was done, too, and started eating my salad. Who knew salads were finger food? They also ate the pita that came with the dolmades (I’m still gluten-free! Three weeks in and I feel great!), dipping them in the Greek salad dressing that is so absolutely fantastic I wish Greek Stop bottled it. But the don’t. And they won’t. So sad.
Anyway, my salad was gone and they were still hungry, so Claire went to the fridge and dug out a bag of spinach and dumped a bunch into the Styrofoam container so she and Luca could continue to graze. It was wild watching them eat lettuce and spinach, leaf by leaf. When they were done, Luca was covered in dressing and very, very happy. Claire was a little more neat, but she still had olive-oil hands, and after she washed them, proceeded to dry her hands on my jeans, laughing so hard she almost peed herself. Who knew Greek salad could get you so high?

I did! That’s why it, and the dolmades, were my go-to food when I got the shoulder low-down from Doc today. Comfort food – when used in moderation, and particularly when it’s shared with people we love (Thanksgiving and mashed potatoes, anyone?) – is OK. Dump the guilt! God knows I spent years during my weight loss/maintenance feeling guilty for eating food that soothed my soul. I’m so over that.

I did a little search-a-roo on the Internet and found a few recipes for dolmades that I will attempt to perfect before my surgery in December so I can make them (with my one good arm and an assistant) when I need comfort food during rehab. I’m going to try a vegetarian version of this recipe from Food Network or this one from Living and Loving in LA or both!

How do you respond to your inner “You need comfort food NOW!” voice? And if you choose to eat a comfort food, which one or ones are your go-tos?

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Sad you’re not at BlogHer? (Breeze Comfort sportsbra give away)

(It’s hard to tell but the VentipadTM is only in on the right side)

I receive many, many pitches on a daily basis.

Some great (where I can tell they’ve at least visited my blog & are pitching a product I’d be interested in).

Some not so (the best as of late complemented me on my amazing recipe posts).

Since Ive scaled way back on the number of review posts I do (getting back to my own chickenbus & all) it really is just catching me at the right moment to have me respond with a yes.

For some reason I looked at the Breeze Comfort sports bras and it was the right moment.

Something about how pretty & feminine they looked in comparison to my utilitarian running bras made this misfit curious.

And, as always, my curiosity is your chance to win.

What was my first reaction to the Breeze Comfort push up sports bra?

Anticipation.  I completely deferred to the brand to select the bra they sent me.  I believe SURPRISE ME were the exact words I used.Surprise.  I was really, well, surprised to find padding in the bra and excited to see that the pads were removable.  I did immediately yank out the pads from their confinement, but also read a bit more about them and the ventipad technology.  The pads are perforated & breathable.   While I did not wear them to exercise if the pads work half as well as described on site no matter how much you perspire your tatas should remain dry and comfy (no, that is not a sentence I ever imagined Id type).

What did I love about the Breeze Comfort bra:

I loved the look, the feel, the cut and the feminine mesh insets.

(if youre checking in through a reader theres a 30 second video review below)

What did I not love about the Breeze Comfort sports bra?

It was a little sheer.  Im sure it was constructed (the style is called the push up) not to be worn without the ventipads & theres a reason you didnt get to see me wearing it.  That said, I still want the black.  I dont think the sheerness would be a factor in a darker color.  And, since Im not one to wear only a sports bra the sheerness didnt matter much.I couldnt run in it.  To clarify, given the description where it states the bra is perfect for yoga & pilates I didnt anticipate being able to.  Yoga, weight training, spinning, group exercise classes, climbing—really anything BUT running would be fine.  And, if you arent as painfully aware of the effects of gravity’s pull as I am, you may disagree with me & feel supported enough to run.

Bottom line:  Overall I really liked the sports bra.

It made me feel far more feminine than my other sports bras and for some reason I was drawn to that. I may even try it with the pads in place next time if I’m feeling misfit-sassy!

I also dont mind Im limited to wearing it during low impact activities as I have other more boring utilitarian sports bras for when I need to keep the tatas firmly in place.

Now you.

You may enter to win a strappy push-up sports bra like mine for the lowlow cost of a comment below.**

(And by ‘you’ I mean everyone—-if you’re able to order on site you’re able to win! No USA only here!)

Why do you think you’d love the Breeze Comfort sports bra?

The breathable mesh?

The removable pads?

Whatever your reason please to share below.

winner announced 8.8.11

**color may be dependent on size availability.
FTC my sports bra was free. Opinions expressed are all my own.

View the original article here

The winner of the breeze comfort sports bra:

JESSICA MCMICHAEL!

Email me (mizfit08 at yahoo.com) and I shall connect you with your treat.

Sorry, I could not read the content fromt this page.

View the original article here

Musings from outside the comfort zone.

Subtitle: The post below is long. Snag a snack. Settle in.  Bookmark for later when you have time.  Amazingly this is the edited version.  For that you may thank me later.

First,  I want to thank you.

I wouldn’t have had the opportunity I did last week if you (the royal. the misfit’y) hadn’t voted.

I keep thanking–but that’s the magnitude of my gratitude.

ONWARD. To the awkward zone.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

And, while Id love to uber-ramble about every.single.detail (email me if you want ‘em. I’m way too eager to share), I shall attempt to reign it in through the utilization of bullets.

We shall see if I succeed.

I was super nervous. For some reason this surprised some people in my life.  Would I be nervous about getting up in front of a huge group of people and speaking? Hell no. Was I nervous about prancing around (yes, there was prancage) & having my picture taken? HELL YES.  Case & point: there was no Tornado in the hotel room to wake me Tuesday morning & I was up at the CRACK.  Before the crack.  (OK I didn’t sleep.)The other women are amazing. It’s a crapshoot (technical term) when you toss 6 unique & strong personalities together for two long days of what *could* have been spotlight vying.    There was nary a moment of vying and SO much encouragement, support, sharing, talking and laughing. LOTS of laughing. (That’s all I’m allowed to say about the other women right now.  A detailed announcement/PR profiles are coming from Fila this week.)I liked how the make-up looked! And yet, true to my misfit self, I didn’t ask for tips & tricks. Many of you emailed saying how AMAZING it would be to get inside secrets from a real make-up artist. I think my lack o’curiousity/asking was partially the fact I was terrified (the first day) & partially the fact she & I chatted about so many other interesting topics and yes partially the fact I plan not to wear make up again until Im super famous and can bring her along with me to all my fancypants events.I am an awkward spastic gazelle. (and yes. It made my day when one of you remarked on Facebook that the fact may be true–but I was *your* awkward spastic gazelle.) I’m not sure what I anticipated the shoot would be like.  I think I thought we’d be told to strike a pose, the photographer would snap, and then we’d be instructed to strike another.  More like my bodybuilding days.  (I know. I did used to watch A.N.T.M. I should have known better). To prevent giving myself awkwardness-flashbacks (please to think ELAINE BENIS) I shall simply say It was no surprised to ME when music was played & I was told to dance in front of 30 people the whole *shebang* was not this misfit’s forte. Which brings me to:The photographer, David Drebin, was fantastic. He’s famous. He’s big time.  He’s shot some serious celebrities.  He’s done shoots all over the world.  He both put us all immediately at ease and did NOT make us feel as though we were…not model’y enough. (by WE I may mean me & my awkward spastic dancing).  At the end of the first day, when we shot more of a lifestyle picture (oooh I tease) I felt comfortable & confident in front of the camera and it was mostly David’s doing.FILA ROCKS. I cannot say this enough. The entire time all they seemed to care about was we were *enjoying* the experience & there was nothing we needed.  I may not be a model (ahh spastic dancing. you curse me) yet for two days I felt bad-ass, special, fancy, & important.  Less than what transpired (hair/make-up/shooting in *freezing temps* in little clothing while pretending to be warm just like real models) it was the intangibles. The overall vibe of APPRECIATION (!) the crew had for us & value they placed on our thoughts/time. I’ve blogged for 10 years. Ive worked with many brands. This isn’t always the case.The clothing ROCKS. You may think this is a given. You may also wonder if Id be candid.  It’s not and I would. (From the moment we arrived Fila encouraged us to be brutally honest in our thoughts, tweets, facebook updates etc.) I LOVE my bootcut pants.  I wasn’t sure Id like the shorts or the tops as much.  Ive now seen & worn the entire line and I adore it.  (Except for the skort. I can’t wait to see the skort.) I spent two *long* days wearing nothing but Fila Body Toning System.  I still want to wear it now. That, in my opinion, is all that needs to be said.I play favorites. Many of you asked me to come up with something I didn’t like about the line &  for me it’s all about color. I love the fit of all the items yet, for some odd reason, I never wear blue  (interestingly they never offered me a blue top either).  I own nothing blue (this seemed to shock & horrify a few of you).  That said, as a misfit who has spent far too much time outside her comfort zone lately, I think I shall pass on starting the blue-wearing now.

(that was long, huh? I ramble because I love.)

What happens next and where will the images be used? I’m not sure.

Some pictures will be in national magazines (Shape, Fitness Magazine, OK! Magazine).

Some will be used on the Fila e-commerce site.

Some will be sprinkled around the FilaToning facebook page..

We filmed interviews, too, and word is those will be used for television.

What do I know for sure?

Precisely what I was thinking in the (click-to-make-bigger) photograph below.

I’m 2 months shy of 42.

I’m a short, tattooed, always-disheveled, writer & tomboy-mama.

I never imagined Id have the experience I did last week (*thanks to your votes*) and for that, no matter what happens during my reign next, I am grateful.

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