I USED TO HAVE CHEEKBONES ( or I attended the Atlas TTMBA)

It's been an amazing two weeks as I ATTENDED the Atlas TTMBA conference in Fairfax, Virginia near Washington DC. The food has been incredible.

Training began in the morning each day (not as early as last year, thankfully) but first we ATE. Breakfast was an amazing 8 ft. spread of potatoes, sausage, bacon, cereal or pancakes or waffles or crepes - or cheesecake (not really, but I kept expecting to see it some morning) - and toast, marmalade, juices and coffee and milk and fruit. And we ATE it all. Every day. The food has been incredible.

We learned to create a strategic business plan, from start to finish. No bullet point or objective was missed and the instruction was very comprehensive. Then it was time to EAT. The lunch buffet beckoned, another 8 ft. of "luncheon" food just begging to be EATEN with more often a variety of dinner foods, with two desserts. The food has been incredible.

We reviewed and reworked our business plans after meeting with Rainier Heufers - our BP Guru and Tireless, Focused Instructor - and then we broke for 30 minute breaks where various chocolate candies were casually distributed across ANY flat surface within our break area for us to EAT, along with soda, water, coffee, tea and whatever else the Atlas staff might have found along their culinary way. The food has been incredible.

Afternoon fatigue often hit mid-presentation after lunch and breaks, but the TTMBAers (for the most part) stayed awake and alert. Coffee was consumed by the gallon, caffeine drinks were downed by the case, chocolate was traded and shared and EATEN amongst TTMBAers as if it was an addictive drug. We learned, we ate, we conquered. The food has been incredible.

Dinner's 8 ft. buffet often included meat, potatoes, rice, veggies - and I am talking gourmet veggies, not just creamed corn - and there was bread...oh, have I mentioned the breadbefore now? Bread and butter was provided with every meal...and it was sooooooooo good. We tried to pass it by, but we failed every time. It was almost an Italian peasant bread - soft, fragrant, delicious. And we ATE. And then the dessert(s). Yes, the desserts. Multiple desserts, and not just little tiny chocolate chip cookies. Pies, cakes, pastries of all kinds, ice cream....on and on and on. Wine, beer, water, milk, soda...any beverage you could ever want. It was a feast every night...more than that, every meal, to be exact. We were fed well and we partook generously. We ATE, and then we ATE again. The food has been incredible.

And then the evening would begin, a walk along a dirt path (or miles over concrete, or on the metro, or over bridges, or into neighboring states) to TGIF's, Applebee's, Blue Iguana, DC for Ethiopian food, the hotel lounge for $3 beers, virgin cocktails, wine and more wine. The overindulgence just continued, it didn't stop after dinner, it didn't stop after 9 PM, sometimes it didn't stop until after midnight....the food (and drink) just kept coming and we ATE again. The food (and drink) has been incredible.

And then, as if we had not EATEN enough - Shaka treated us to his favorite restaurant...and a new drink was created, the SHAKA SHAKA BOMB, and we watched shrimp fly through the air, and we opened our mouths to catch them and we ATE again....

And the Event Planner extraordinaire, Stephanie treated us to anything we wanted, milkshakes mid-day between lunch and dinner, as if we couldn't survive between meals, so we ATE again...

And we were proud of our gluttony, we posed with our food. You can see in the picture above that Miss Texas posed by the old car with her food for a photo op.....many others vied for the privilege as well, and we dined and ATE again atop the Watergate building...

And we danced, and we sang, and we drank, and we ATE....

We shared cultures and food and drink and food and drink and more food and more drink....and we drank and we ATE...

And it was fantastic.

The TTMBAer's are amazing and I made lifelong friends whom I adore and hope to always stay in contact with. No meal will ever be quite the same without my comrades and I will miss them dearly. We enjoyed the food together, it was incredible.

I ATTENDED Atlas TTMBA and I don't think that it's just chance that the words ATE and EAT and EATEN are three words that can be created from that larger word: ATTENDED.

I used to have cheekbones, but I have EATEN at the TTMBA training, and I am now a proud TTMBAer with friends all over the world and a certificate too...but somewhere in the EATING, I lost my cheekbones.

It won't be long before we will need to plan a reunion dinner, so we can EAT together again. I am certain the food will be incredible. Maybe I will rediscover my cheekbones before we meet again....but between then and now, I will EAT less, and work harder in the fight for LIBERTY (with snacks and beverages at hand!).

Just Eat It

How to Lose a Diet in One Day

We have all read the magazine covers "Lose 10 lbs of belly fat in 3 hours", "Walk your way to fitness and never take a step", "Find the hidden you beneath those layers of fat without even changing your clothes"...yada yada.

Well, I have written my own diet and exercise program "The Ohm and Wii Diet, by Mii - How to lose weight without saying a real word" and I have actually done fairly well on it...until today.

This blog entry is written from several pounds of personal experience. I have discovered, in one day, what NOT to do when you are on a diet. I am sharing it here to prevent others from the same calorie-laden one-day diet disaster, so suck it in and pay attention. Here are the top five diet no no's or "how to lose a diet in one day":

#1 - Do not attend a baseball game when hungry. (Peanuts, hot dogs, beer (for some), more peanuts)

#2 - Do not cruise new neighborhoods; you might find an Italian bakery. (canoli)

#3 - Do not go to Costco at noon. (samples and more samples)

#4 - Do not do anything without water in hand. (iced sweetened herb teas and decaf coffee drinks)

#5 - Do not wear loose clothing. (you can eat even more peanuts, hot dogs, canoli, etc.)

OK, time for Mii to get close and personal with my Wii. I am certain I am several dog years older and at least one hot dog heavier than yesterday. I think I am going to change diets, I am going on the "Best Friend Diet - Mii and You can do this together if Wii never leave the house". Watch for it on the newstands soon. Ohmmm.

Food, Glorious Food

Carb Heaven

Carbohydrates rock. I have basically been living without them for several weeks in an effort to look decent in my mother-of-the-bride dress.

Tonight I closed the door where the dress hangs 24/7 to keep me focused on the fact that I will definitely be wearing it in 6 weeks, and I made spaghetti.

Homemade marinara sauce. Regular pasta spaghetti noodles (not spinach). No parmesan. Ground turkey instead of ground beef. Fresh green beans sprinkled with garlic instead of garlic bread. But PASTA, pure carbs!!

It was so yummy. I am in carb heaven.

I wonder how a mu-mu would blend with the bride's plans for her wedding. I bet I can find one in the right colors, with big flowers, puffy sleeves, down to the floor, kind of a sack shape. Oh never mind, it's back to no-carb hell for this mother-of-the-bride.

I guess I love my daughter more than carbs, but it's close. Six weeks and counting, but who's counting?

Wierd Al' "Eat It"

The Little Things

Sometimes it's the little things that can bring us out of the doldrums. For me, a quick reality check and attitude adjustment, a tall glass of mojito lemonade and a New Mexico sunset are pretty much all it takes.

No, it doesn't FIX things, it's just a band-aid, but it sure takes the edge off and makes life seem a lot more fun.

Satellite Coffee in Albuquerque (I can walk to one!) is now selling mojito lemonade - lemonade, ginger and mint. It's delicious and refreshing. I bought two. I drank one while watching the sunset last night on my front patio (following my self-administered reality check and attitude adjustment) and I carefully perched the second glass in my freezer. I actually dreamt during the night about the slushy mojito that I am going to enjoy later today!

It's a new day and I am smiling. Hope you are too.

Charlie Chaplin "Smile"

Guac or Glock? That is the question.

I don't know about you, but avocado's were never a favorite food of mine in my youth. I watched my parents gloat over every slice when both my sister and I turned down their offer to share the mushy green fruit/vegetable. (That's just fine, girls, that leaves more for us!")

As I got older and attended parties in high school, guacamole dip (fondly referred to as "guac" by connoisseurs) was often displayed attractively in the center of a lettuce bowl, or a circle of cherry tomatoes, or on a 70's style stoneware platter of matching color, artfully surrounded by machine-cut tortilla chips as kind of a party standard. I avoided it for years.

It was a momentous occasion when I tried "guac" on one of those perfect triangles of baked cornmeal. And oh my, it was love at first lick, and I have never gone back to plain, unadorned tortilla chips since, or tacos, or quesadillas, or enchiladas, or any food remotely Mexican.

There's something about peer pressure that allows us to step out of our comfort zone, or forces us to. It's so much easier (and sometimes safer) to just blend in. Such was the case with guacamole dip in my early teens. I had to leave the comfort of the anti-avocado group and take a risk with the experimental-food group, I had to break loose and be bold! As an adult (over 30), it was fish. As a mature adult (over 50), it was lamb, mussels, oysters, sushi, antelope, and....well, I could go on but no one would ever want to risk eating at my house again. It's been so fun to branch out and experience new things, to have friends who would encourage me to step just outside of my comfort zone - not too far, but far enough.

And it's not just food. I have been a gun hater since childhood. Fear and lack of knowledge were probably the motivation behind my passionate hatred. I didn't want one, I didn't want anyone in my family to have one, I forbade them from my house, I even tried to keep my boys away from toy guns. I was a zealot anti-NRA gal. You would think I had never seen Charlton Heston with his shirt off and all oiled up.

Which brings me to Glocks - not to be confused with Crocs, the sensational plastic phenomenon of brightly colored, cheap-to-make, dangerous-on-escalators, completely-non-supportive, orthopedically-challenged, but relatively expensive "shoes" that seem to be on everyone's feet these days. The fact that I know what a Croc is has no relation to my owning a pair, I do not...and will not. The fact that I know what a Glock is, has no relation to my owning one, I do not...yet.

I have come to love shooting - at a target. It's relaxing. It requires focus. It allows your mind to leave everything else behind and zoom in on that target in the near or far distance, depending on what you are shooting. You are competing against no one but yourself. It's liberating in some way. It's good for the soul. (yes, to all the anti-gun folks, it is, in it's own unique way).

I have not tried hunting yet. I honestly don't know how I will feel about it. I do know that if I hunt, I won't just kill for sport, I will eat the meat...which, of course, leads into the obvious question. "Really, Jeannie, and how do you plan to do that, with skin and bones and muscle and etc in tact? Or, do you plan to straddle the animal and skin it yourself?" Uhmm, the answer to both questions is an unequivocable "no". Which leads to the next obvious question, "then who in the world is gonna take you hunting AND be willing to skin something you might actually (in a moment of focused concentration) hit?" I have no idea. Let's go back to Guac or Glock, it's a much easier question. My life is too complicated to spend much time on difficult questions right now.

I love the outdoor shooting range (no Crocs there, by the way). I enjoy the fresh air, the equalizing factor that "packing" brings with it. It doesn't really matter what kind of jeans you are wearing, or if you drove up in a broken down truck or snazzy convertible; if you are walking onto that range with guns and ammo (appropriately, safely, respectfully), you are in the brotherhood (or sisterhood, as it were). My favorite outdoor range (so far) is just outside of Silver City, NM. I just love those guys and gals. They are always eager to help me learn a new technique, improve my skills, encourage me to try something new and tease me with some huge gun or rifle that I am in no way prepared to shoot. I am, however, the proud owner of THREE guns now, none of them a Glock...but yeah, you read that right. THREE. Two pistols and a rifle. I told you, I love to shoot!

In fact, I think I will go shooting this weekend, and maybe even take some chips and guac for the range folks.

And when I go hunting someday, maybe I will carefully pack avocados and make guacamole for my hunting companions! You just never know what a woman might take with her on a hunting trip (and yes, I know I have to carry my own stuff, and yes, I know this is why men don't WANT women on their hunting trips (for the most part) UNLESS of course they are hand picked "camp cooks").

Ok, back to serious stuff. Now, what was the question? Guac or Glock? Hmmm.

I love stepping out of my comfort zone, taking a calculated risk, and forcing myself to not just be part of the crowd and blend in. It's so much fun and so good for me! I am, after all, a redhead. I have never blended in very well. Never really wanted to. Now let's see....guac green and glock black. Them's huntin colors, right?!

Question answered! Problem solved!

Guns.N.Roses "Sweet Child O'Mine"

Sticky Fingers

Talk about a quick and unexpected look backwards into my youth. Wow. Pomegranates now span nearly 50 years of my memory.

Pomegranates are the new (old) rage. I recently bought Pomegranate juice (POM) - it was expensive and I wasn't the only one buying it. I felt so trendy! Then I snagged a bag of dark chocolate covered pomegranate. Who would have thought? What a wonderful creation! (however, I am still trying to wrap my mind around "real fruit juice pieces". I don't know about you, but until I popped that first dark chocolate covered nugget into my mouth, I can't really remember EVER tasting a "piece" of juice, real or not. Anyway, that is of no consequence, dark chocolate dipped real fruit juice pieces are delicious!

I remember red-stained fingers in the Rialto, CA backyard of my childhood friend, Rhonda Copeland. Her mom wouldn't let us eat that messy fruit (with all those juicy seeds) anywhere in the house, so we would park ourselves on the edge of their back patio and pick away. It was definitely a labor of love.

I loved pomegranates then and I love them now, especially covered in dark chocolate. The cool thing is that your fingers don't get stained red with the dark chocolate coating. However, if you eat enough of them, and lick your fingers, your fingers might become sticky.

I can assure you that a combination of pomegranate and dark chocolate did not cross the mind of a very freckled 11 year old girl with red-stained fingers and lips. Let alone anything even remotely related to "real fruit juice pieces."

But I am older and wiser now, and dark chocolate covered ANYTHING works for me. I am an addict.

I admit it.

My name is Jean and I am a dark chocolate addict.

And I don't plan to participate in any intervention or pay an insane amount of money to participate in a recovery program to solve this supposed problem. I am a dark chocolate addict and proud of it. I like it, actually. I would even buy a bumper sticker for this! The freckles are faded, the red hair is streaked with white and I have almost seen "11 years" five times now. I am not so little anymore either, but some things just don't change. I love pomegranates, plain or covered in dark chocolate.I love dark chocolate, plain or covering just about anything.Life is good, and I have sticky fingers.

Dave Matthews Band "Shake Me Like a Monkey"

Burnt Eggs and Lemonade

"When life gives you lemons, make lemonade"...so goes the age-old saying. (my Mom made the best lemonade I have ever had - from scratch, with just the right amount of sugar - I can still remember how it tasted. Mmmmm).

"There's nothing worse than burnt eggs"....so goes a favorite quote from my Mom. She probably never imagined that her daughter might someday burn hard boiled eggs. I think she was thinking more along the lines of scrambled or fried eggs. But I managed to burn hardboiled eggs last week.

Yes, that's what I said. I burned hardboiled eggs. It's taken me a week to hone in on the fact that I really did burn hardboiled eggs and just as long to own up to it.

It takes talent to burn hardboiled eggs. Not a lot of focus, however.

I seem to have a knack for letting things simmer too long. I draw things out long beyond their natural, healthy lifetime.

Diets come to mind. I have been on a diet for 17 years, and look where it's gotten me. Nowhere. It's not that hard, when you think about it. Eat less, move more. Turn on healthy foods, turn off unhealthy foods.

Relationships are another thought. I seem to be able to nurse a bad relationship along for much longer than is healthy, for all involved. I can hang in there, I can give second chances, I can recreate myself, I can comply, I can rebel, I can turn things on, I can settle. So, what is it that prevents me from turning things off? This could be a question for the eternities. Longsuffering? Patience? Bullheadedness? The inability to admit failure? A refusal to change? The fact that I am a redhead? Never giving up? Carelessness? Enduring to the end? A combination of all of the forementioned?

Oh. Wait.

And then there are eggs. Hardboiled eggs. It should be fairly simple. Water, pan, raw eggs. Turn on heat, turn off heat. I, however, seem to have forgotten that last critical step.

Somehow diets, relationships and hardboiled eggs will forever be linked in my mind. I can't seem to turn things off in a timely fashion. I linger. I procrastinate. I hope. I wait. I dream.

And then I burn the eggs.

Which brings me to lemonade. The universally liked drink. Refreshing. Full of vitamins. Almost youth-enducing. The drink that makes any day feel like summer and creates a slight breeze effect in your minds eye. I like mine sweet, but not too sweet.

I am so glad that I like lemonade. I can drink it forever. I don't ever have to turn it off. It doesn't burn. It doesn't hurt my feelings. It doesn't make me wonder who I really am. It's just lemonade.

I can drink lemonade to regroup. I can hope and wait and dream....and drink lemonade.

Mom, baseball and apple pie? Well, yeah, that's American red/white/blue jargon, but come on.

Mom, lemonade and a camp chair beneath the huge tree in our backyard on 18th Street - circa 1960. Now we're talkin. Simple, carefree, sunkissed blissful, innocent days...with a slight breeze.

Those are my memories. What a simple and good life that was. Of course, I was 6 and rather unencumbered by relationships, a need to diet or cooking issues. And I still had my Mom - and pancakes with apple sauce and sun-brewed iced tea, and lemonade.

I will probably burn more eggs in my lifetime and drag things out longer than I should (my blog posts are probably a good example of that), but more importantly, I will always make certain to take some time to stop in the middle of life's chaos to sip a tall glass of lemonade, and appreciate my family, my friends and my good decisions.

I love lemonade. I love life. I still love to sit under huge trees. And I will always wait for that slight breeze to renew my faith in humanity and in myself.

Thanks Mom.

Bob Hope "Thanks for the Memories"