HOT HOT HOT! You don't wanna miss this...

Alrighty, folks.

So, in the market research study I  conducted by giving my blog post a suggestive and possibly sexual title, my views more than doubled.

Good to know you guys are all dirty minded mofos. 

That's you being shamed.


But you know, if it ain't broke fix it. So I figured I'd try it again today.


GREAT NEWS!!!

I went to the doctor today for my hip--the right one, not the one I fractured before. I know, I'm 90, gimme a break--and he said he doesn't think it's a stress fracture!!! It's not nearly as bad as the other side was by the time I went in. And I've stopped running. So we caught that beeeeootch early. YES.


I was really worried I was gonna get that same chastising finger wag all you sickos just got when I walked in, but my doctor was pretty friggin cool about it. Still got x-rays (which showed nothing, as they usually can't see stress fractures with them) and I'm getting an MRI Saturday night (HOLLA!). Yeah. You might think the cool thing to do on a Saturday night is go hang out at a bar, or go to a friends apartment and play apples to apples, or order three pizzas and a burger and get a pint of ice cream and bake a cake and eat it ALL BY YOURSELF ... ooop...is that just me??? No matter! I am here to clear all of that up for you, because in reality, the cool COOL thing to do is get an MRI. Just trust me on this one.

I mean, I might still do that last one afterwards. Although three pizzas seems a bit excessive, no? eh.

THIS IS MY NEW BEST FRIEND!!!!

Ok. Not ACTUALLY my new best friend, BUT... It's really good.

 This little diddy was a joint effort. Coconut chicken strips with mashed "potatoes" (cauliflower) and sauteed green beans. YUM!!!!

And after a delicious dinner (to the tune of Jim Gaffigan's stand-up, no less. Yeah. We know how to do it up classy here, folks). I made that french toast yumminess for desert!!! A good good night.

Of course it didn't stop me from snacking at 3am. A saltine? why yes, please! Reese's cup?? Well I just might...


But we won't talk about that. What happens at 3 am stays at... uhm... right. Whatever.
Time to focus on tonight's dinner! And how to spice up my evenings so I have more exciting things to report than mustard on my chicken and MRI's! Wish me luck!!

Sexy Photo Shoot!! Look here NOW!!!

Did that title catch your attention? Good! That was my tactic! I won't tell you how many page views there were on my blog from yesterday but let's just say it was pathetic enough that I needed to take desperate action.

There will be sexy pictures. I promise. Stay tuned.

In the meantime, I have something really exciting to share...

I HAVE GAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

...no. Not THAT kind of gas, you nasty little readers. That precious kind of gas that powers your stove and oven, that allows you to prepare scrumptious meals for yourself!!! We have been without this gas for the last THREE MONTHS in my apartment. Don't even get me started. It's nearly caused me to have an aneurism between the shitty hot plate they gave us in the interim and the strange non-english-speaking man who came to rip through our ceiling once it was discovered (two and a half months in) that the gas leak was actually coming from OUR apartment. But the point is... we have it now!!! Which means tonight was a PARTAYYYYYY

Cue: the sexy photos.

                                                                           BAM

That, my friends, is a delicious stuffed pepper (filled with a Trader Joe's chili Lime Chicken burger which I sauteed with onion and pepper and broke into pieces and a touch of mozzarella on top) and cauliflower rice.

What's that you ask? What is cauliflower rice?? Worry not. I shall tell you!

Chop a head of cauliflower and put it in a blender/food processor (THANKS MOM AND DAD for the amAZEballs food processor for my birthday) with some water. Drain the water and cook in a skillet with a lid on top for abooooouuuut twenty minutes. Try not to let it burn like I did here. Add some lime juice and salt and garlic pepper and ba-da-bing!!! Cauliflower rice!!!

But surely, my dear reader, you didn't think the eating festivities would stop there!! Clearly, you don't know me very well. Here we have some french toast made with Coconut Bread compliments of Julian's Bakery. It's some pretty dern special bread, yo. Better be, since it cost me about 13 bucks a loaf. No grains or sugar in it. I toasted it, dipped it in egg whites, milk, cinnamon and pumpkin pie spice and then cooked it in a skilled primed with coconut oil and topped it with greek yogurt, blackberries and....

Some of my dear, dear friends. PB2 is powdered peanut butter made from dehydrated peanuts and comes in at a whopping 45 calories per 2 tablespoons. Being that I can easily consume and entire jar of Peanut Butter in one sitting aided by nothing but my pointer finger, you can see why this might be somewhat revolutionary to me. The jar on the right is basically the same thing but CHOCOLATE (made with cocoa powder). It tastes like chocolate pudding. No joke. I like to enjoy it like this..

I use a frozen banana as a vehicle to shovel it in my mouth as quickly and violently as possible daintily consume it in moderation.

In other words. GO. RUN. GET THESE PRODUCTS NOW!!! You've already spent too much of your life without them!!! Plus, it's a lot healthier than consuming these all night:

Oops! Where did those come from???



ANYWAY>>>

One other big update! I received this in the mail a few days ago:

In case you don't have magically microscopic eyes let me help you out here. It's my certificate of completion for the online study course I took for group exercise instructing! YES! That's right!! I'm becoming a fitness instructor! And I gotta say, I'm pretty friggin pumped about it. I've been wanting to do this for a couple of years and I could honestly pee myself thinking about how much fun it's gonna be to teach classes, and how much MORE awesome it'll be than watching netflix 8 hours a day at my job now. I take the actual certification workshop and exam on the 15th of this month, so I'll keep you updated as things keep moving forward. But basically you should be preparing for me to storm a gym near you.

Alright, kids. That's all the nasty pornographic photos I have for you tonight. I'll try not to burn my "rice" next time so it looks pretty for you. Adios!!

Christmas Countdown: Day 30

Holy Shit!!!

I know. I'm surprised to find myself here too. Why, you might ask, would I randomly post a blog after not posting any in oh... 6 months or so???

Could it be the creeping pain in my (now, right) hip that's giving me night sweats and sending me back to my doctor this Wednesday morning? ...maybe.

Could it be the absence of a forum on which I can daily post my irritation with the human race and my enthusiasm for all things baked, cheesy, chocolatey and delicious? ...perhaps.

Could it be one or all of these things which I may or may not have consumed recently (AKA: within the past week)?

...ooooh...yeah.... miiiiiiiiiiiiight've been that.

Add to that one or two about a dozen artisan cannoli, some cookies, a piece or two of magnolia cake, some kick ass homemade tortellini, wings, pizza, various spirits...

the list goes on. And on.

SO. Moving forward, I looked at my calender to discover that there are a meager 30 DAYS until Christmas. WTF??!?!!! When the hell did that happen?? Regardless, I have decided to take these precious 30 days to recover from my current state of indulgence so that I can arrive home on Christmas to once again, indulge.

And so the journey begins. I will share with you my perils, my yearnings, my aching hips and various injuries, and my delicious--albeit angelically healthy--meals.

AND WE'RE OFF!!! 

Sneaky Saints and other frustrations

Ok folks, it's been WAY too long. I have a lot of pent-up anger and general agitation that needs to be expressed pronto. ...and we're off.


I'm going to begin with the most immediate frustration because it is actually disturbing me from composing this blog post in a smooth, continuous flow. A friend of mine was cast in a show and I wanted to express my congratulations. Unfortunately, I saw his post immediately after it came up on Facebook and I was the first person to say something. Do we all know what this means? It means that every time anyone says anything regarding his accomplishment, I get a nifty little email alert from the FB crew. You're probably wondering why I don't just disable the email alerts from my facebook account, right? Then I wouldn't have to stop typing this every five seconds to see that someone who I've never met in my life said something stupid and useless to my friend. But then I (just had to stop because I got an email) couldn't have (essentially) instant conversations with people via my facebook wall because I wouldn't be notified that they posted on MY WALL. Which I'm actually interested in. I think they should look into fixing that option. I stopped 6 times during this paragraph alone and I'm not happy about it.

Next order of business. Tomorrow is officially 5 weeks since I've been on crutches as well as my first check-up appointment with the doctor who prescribed them. I cannot communicate in words how excited and hopeful I am about this. I know, I know ...he said 6-8 weeks. But I feel no pain!!! Surely, he will tell me that I no longer need them and I'm free to resume my normal life and activity level. I don't see a lot of other options as currently my sides are completely raw due to the fact that Summer started 5 minutes ago and bare skin + crutches = extreme redness and discomfort. My crutches and I are in a fight and I'd like them to move out. If the doctor could be so kind as to help expedite this process I would be overjoyed. I'm also ready to be done with people on the subway. I'm not sure what they've been spraying on the subway seats (rat poop and homeless people urine) but it's causing the subway riders to get very tude-y with me about my choice to accept or decline an offered seat. Just because I have crutches does not mean I always want to sit down, and I feel that this should be my decision to make. In the beginning (not of time, just to be clear) when a kind stranger would offer his or her seat, "Oh! You have crutches! You simply MUST take my seat!!" and I kindly refused, "Why thank you good Sir, but I would prefer to stand the remainder of the journey," both parties would nod and smile and then carry on about our merry commute. Recently however, the individual offering has become rather snarky about my refusal, mumbling to the person next to them (or no one at all--people do that a lot here. Yes sir, I can see that there is no one around for you to pretend to be talking to so that you can say what you wish you could say to my face to someone else and know that I will still hear you) , "She should NOT be standing," or "How ridiculous,". If I want to sit in a goddamn seat then I will, ok?! I have every right not to sit down if I so choose and I would appreciate you reserving judgment! If anything, you should shut your mouth and be fucking grateful that I am allowing you to continue to sit there!! What the hell is wrong with you?? Then I feel the need to offer and explanation, "I sit at work all day so I'm fine to stand, thank you," and I can see that the individual is still displeased with me so I turn and face the opposite direction, only to be offered a seat by twelve more people consecutively. I JUST SAID NO TO THE LAST ELEVEN PEOPLE. PAY ATTENTION.

 At this point I realize I'm overreacting and I should just be overwhelmed by the kindness which surrounds me but you know this is all self-motivated. That man who first offered was hoping I'd sleep with him if he gave me his seat. And the next person just wanted the recognition from the rest of the subway car--that nod of approval that he did something "right", perhaps a father nudging his son and pointing saying, "There, son. You see how he just gave his seat to a cripple? That's a real man, there." Well I'm onto you, Sir. And I will continue to stand out of pure spite.

Another reason I can't wait to get off these damn piece of shit crutches is because I went to Central Park and watched a game of softball today (I was invited, ok? I don't just go creeping around the park looking for little boys softball games to "watch". And it was adults.) and it awakened a yearning in me to return to the world of competitive sports. I haven't played softball since junior high but man, did I wanna run out onto that field today. Especially since most of the female performances left something to be desired (wtf girls? Man up! Why am I ALWAYS having to say that to our gender??). I miss playing soccer a lot too. In fact I checked out the registration information for ZogSports online as soon as I got to work. Kickball, corn toss, wiffle ball, dogeball... the possibilities are endless. I just wanna crush someone in something. I. Can't. Wait.

On that note, I'm trying to decide what to do first when I get the nod on losing my crutches. I'm leaning towards running because that I literally have not done one time since the day I got them. It kinda blows my mind to think about that. I haven't run for 5 weeks. Over a month. Will I remember how (yes, ass hole I know I will, but bear with me here)? Will I trip and fall like a gangly, uncoordinated teenager (I'm not gangly at all so that seems unlikely...)? Will I get half a block and be exhausted or will it be so exhilarating to re-embrace my ability that my stamina will be endless?? Oh, the unanswered questions that plague me!!!!

 So anyway. Point being, I'm feeling a celebration coming if, I mean WHEN, the good news comes TOMORROW. Everyone cross your fingers!!!

And now...picture time. Just some things that jumped out at me.

I don't even know what these are. Obviously some kind of Reese's encased cookie... although it almost looks like a crust on the bottom and a different texture on the top. And is that marshmallow or ice cream in the middle? Maybe this level of analysis is a tad overkill...

'nuff said.

what?!!?!

I made the same face when my mom made me wear this outfit.

That's a wrap!! Toodles!

Food Glorious Food

HEY KIDS!!

It's been awhile. I've been SO busy running around doing crazy fun things that I simply haven't had the time to sit down and blog about them!!!!

Ok, so we all know that's bullshit. Mostly I didn't have anything interesting to say and I've been sick as shit--wtf God??? Being on crutches isn't enough?!! You had to additional slap me with a runny ass nose and a sore throat? What a douche!!--and basically spent the entire weekend devouring the first two seasons of Weeds with which I am newly obsessed. But there were a few minor highlights and irritations and I am happy to share those with you now (AKA: I'm working ALL DAY and I'm about to kill myself because I've read every status update on facebook since 9am and I've seen every posted picture on pinterest and read every blog entry from my favorite website... this is my last available form of entertainment)!

1.) I did NOT get the hand job. (HA HA HA!!!! Just seeing if you were paying attention.) It was for today and tomorrow so...clearly didn't book it. And don't you hate that? I had dealt with the fact that I took a royal shit all over the audition and I was fine with it. It wasn't until they called me again and gave me hope that I started to get antsy about it. Whatever. It was probably a porno.

2.) Bobby Lopez (the Tony Award winning composer and lyricist who wrote Avenue Q and Book of Mormon) attended my show, Avenue Zoo this weekend and sat front and center with his two daughters. After the show I sat next to him while he took pictures with our cast (with me wearing the Kate Monster puppet that we use in the show--the one from the Broadway production) and told us how much he liked the  show. I was basically speechless and retarded.

3.) If you are ever in the situation where you are sick and torn between taking Nyquil and Benadryl to sleep at night, go with Nyquil. Hands down.

4.) I saw The 5-year Engagement and it's super funny. Go see it!!!

5.) Only one hit on my furniture on craig's list and it was definitely from a rapist/murderer/cerial killer/theif because he wanted my name and address to mail me payment by money order because he was out of town on "assignment" and his email address was gvjgvjgvjgvjgvjgsyejwk@yahoo.com. Interesting...

Ok those are the big ones I think. That's really all that happened to me in the past couple of days apart from being generally cranky and resentful of my current disabilities. It has, however, officially been over two weeks that I've been on the crutches now. I would say my technique, speed and agility are greatly improving. I'm learning the ins and outs of when to take advantage of my mobility issue (making sad, desperate searching eyes when I get on the subway until someone offers me a seat) and I've gained new experiences like this blog, Weeds, guitar (or rather...the two chords that I learned that one night when I played it for 20 minutes...) and a general sense of patience and empathy that, to a certain extent, I was lacking before. All things to be happy about.

However, due to the fact that I've been eating pretty carefully, I've recently been battling with some really intense cravings for copious amounts of incredibly detrimental food. I come home at night from crutching around all day, my bag heavy, shoulders aching, collapse onto the couch and turn on weeds... maybe I get the munchies via osmosis? Whatever the cause, every night when I get to this part of my day I have considered baking an adorable, delicious funfetti cake with creamy, pink, sweet icing on top (and obviously sprinkles...duh!) and diving right in. That's after I peruse the 12 or so advertisements that Domino's has kindly left on our door over the past year, drooling over the pictures of artisan pizza's and cheesy bread.
I'm not sure how much longer I can endure the pain.
It's very fortunate that there are certain things (pizza boxes, entire cakes, even cupcakes really, large loaves of bread...) that cannot be carried in a backpack.

These cravings are probably exacerbated by the fact that I'm sick which instantly turns me into a two-year-old. I want nothing more than to lay on the couch at home (in IL) and eat my mom's pastina and italian ice while she scratches my back. And since I can't have those things, I instead settle on food.
I'm going to include some fun links to pictures of things that have really been speaking to me today.

Let me lay it out in proper course order

 Appetizer
Maine Course
Dessert

and maybe we could throw a few of these in there somewhere...

I love you
And you
And you too...

And with that friends, there is nothing more to be said.

The Higher you are the Farther you fall...or something like that?

Today was one of those days that truly amazes me because it tricked me. It tricked me into thinking that it was going to be an amazing, ground-breaking day. You know the days I'm talking about? Where you wake up feeling like the potential is just hanging in the air? Like there's so many things to be grateful for and so many amazing things that could happen it's like you're practically in a fucking Disney movie. Like your fairy god-mother is about to appear in front of you and give you everything you've ever wished for?

Ok, maybe not quite to that extreme but you know what I mean. You get a great night's sleep and you wake up feeling oddly refreshed and ready to take on demons and problems and scary homeless men and gimpy legs. Well that's how I felt this morning. When my alarm went off at 7am for work I was greeted by a text from the other girl who works with me that I would not need to work the entire day (9-6) as originally scheduled. Due to the rain, her video shoot was moved and she could work the first half of the day. I smiled a giant smile and promptly went back to sleep for another 2 and a half hours. So it was actually my second awakening that was glorious. When I woke up around 9:40 I felt spectacular! So spectacular, in fact, that I decided my leg must have gotten the memo and healed in the last few hours, enabling me to skip joyfully to drop off my laundry a mere 2 blocks away.

Guess what? My leg didn't get the memo.

I did limp to the laundry mat without my crutches (sorry, mom!) and I have to say it felt pretty damn good not to use them for all of ten minutes. Not to get stared at on the street with looks of pity and, "Girl, what the hell you thinkin livin in Harlem with them damn things undah yo arms? Shit!". So when I got back I was still feeling pretty great, my high only moderately upset by the lack of instant healing. I decided I was going to clean and rearrange my room. Now let's pause for a bit of background on this situation. My room is rather small, and when I purchased furniture at IKEA, I neglected to take measurements ahead of time. I just bought what seemed like a cool bed frame (it IS cool) and brought my shelving unit from my previous apartment, having left behind an enormous, beautiful wardrobe knowing it wouldn't fit. Unfortunately when I put together the bed frame it turned out that not all the items in my room wanted to play nicely together. My closet comes out from the wall and it was basically a toss up between opening my door more than 4 inches or having 4 inches between the end of my bed and the closet. Neither of which is super cool. Since then, I've had several mental revelations where I imagined the perfect set-up in my mind that would allow all my furniture to fit neatly, only to realize that, in practice, the measurements in my mind tend to grow a bit more than the ones that are actually in my room. I usually move shit around about 3 times--vault the bed, unvault the bed, scoot it against one wall, move the shelf to the other, it doesn't fit, scoot it to the other wall, so on and so forth--until I reach that place of, "I don't give a shit anymore. I'm not moving that goddamn shelf one more time. I don't care if it's standing directly in front of the window and I have to squeeze my head and upper torso through one of these stupid ass shelves to open my window or not!!
So that's what happened today.
The image of my fairy god-mother started to blur and fade.
 In an effort to right the situation I posted an ad for both my bed frame and my shelf on craigs list (Here's the bed frame: http://www.ikea.com/us/en/catalog/products/S89849971/ and the shelf: http://www.ikea.com/us/en/catalog/products/10196431/ if anyone is interested!!!) in the hopes that someone will buy them and I can start all over and create the bedroom of my dreams (which is featured very nicely on the IKEA website--Ikea!!! I told you to stay out of my bedroom fantasies and stop stealing my mental images for your catalogue pictures!!). I'm thinking maybe a loft style bed so that I could then have all the space on the floor... but something about sleeping way up in the air like that terrifies me. Am I alone there? I know there are sides on the bed but I don't know... shit happens, man. 

I left my abandoned cause and fled to work, ready to be the best receptionist that ever was! Transferring calls faster than a speeding...whatever. I was semi-excited to go to work. Bam! Alert the rude callers!! Michele is manning the desk!!! Call her immediately and berate her!!
So they did.
I knew I was falling when I kept interrupting them (as they repeated what they wanted for the 35th time) to say "Yes, sir. I understand what you are saying. And I am telling you that no one by the name of Yasmine--he spelled it for me, how gracious--appears in my directory.
Basically, I am blown away by how far you can fall in a matter of a few meager hours. I woke up feeling like Superwoman! Now I just want to punch someone in the stomach. Although, I only have about 18 minutes of work left and then hopefully I can lift my spirits with an amazing dinner and some Jersey Shore!!!! OH! And I just started teaching myself guitar last night, so that's something to look forward to as well!!

I also just want to say in closing that I really enjoyed writing this at the very end of the day when I know I have to leave in 10 minutes now. It gives me a sense of urgency like I have a very pressing and important deadline and if I don't meet it I might be fired. Almost as though what I do is actually important and meaningful. Almost. Might make it a habit!

Progress report and BIG NEWS!!!

Back from a long weekend! I took some time off to let ideas pile up so I'd have lots to talk about. Plus...I'm working two full days (as opposed to the half days I normally work) in a row and I knew I'd need to occupy as much time as possible to keep me from going stir crazy.

So first I need to address some developments on previous posts.

1.) The very same day I posted about no women offering to help me, I had 3 girls offer on my way home from work. And since then I have had girls offer every single day. Ask and you shall receive!

2.) Remember that awful audition? The one where I moved around little tinker toys like someone with a slight disability and generally wanted to stab myself the entire time? The one I walked out of saying to myself, "Well. Didn't get THAT job."

They called me.

I know.

When the woman said "Hi this is ____ from ____ ____ casting. I'm calling you about the audition for the hand modeling job you attended last week," I sat in a shocked silence for a few good seconds until I mustered a, "I'm sorry? From where?". I was pretty sure I'd misheard her. But I hadn't! She was calling because they were very interested in me (or rather...my hands...) and she wanted to confirm my availability for the shooting dates next week. They also wanted me to send them a picture of my hand next to a ruler.

Uhm...weird. This whole situation just keeps getting more and more strange. To be honest, if this job didn't pay a ridiculous amount of money (which it does), at this point I would probably come up with some kind of excuse.
"Oh my gosh...I actually just had a relative die and the funeral is going to be that day. I'm so sorry."

"Oh thank you I'm so honored but unfortunately I just had a terrible allergic reaction and developed a really revolting hand rash"

"I'm sorry, I wasn't at that audition. I'm not even an actor. I think maybe you have the wrong number."

But guess what. It pays a ridiculous amount of money. So naturally I responded with, "Absolutely!" and promptly spent my lunch break picking out a ruler at staples next to which I could photograph my hand (bonus: another time sucking activity to occupy my attention during this endless day: making a creepy photo album of my hand posing with a shitty plastic ruler!). I initially sent her only one photo and then she responded requesting that I provide a few more angles. I didn't realize there was that much to see. This is obviously an entire world that I know nothing about. All I can say is I must have a damn attractive hand to have convinced them they wanted to use me after seeing my audition video. Or they were specifically looking for small handed female puppeteers with a splash of awkward I'm-not-sure-what-I'm-supposed-to-be-doing-right-now thrown in the mix. We'll see how the plot continues.

Obviously I have to allow you to see the hand pictures now. I'd say look in private. Something about this feels wrong.
Angle 1

Angle 2

Angle 3

A third issue that needs to be addressed is rather urgent. In fact, I should have started this post with the announcement I am about to share with you.

[Pause as a girl working in my office sneezes FOUR time in a row and I have to practice deep breathing to keep from having an angry outburst.]

As I was enjoying my nightly ritual of Jersey Shore on Friday evening, there was a moment in the episode where one of the people on the show, Pauly D, said to someone "It's Pauly D. The D's for Delvecchio."
The world around me froze.
Delvecchio??? This can't be right! That is my nana's maiden name! What does this mean??? Could I, Michele Dumoulin, actually be related to one of the cast members on the Jersey Shore??! Does this explain why I feel some strange and undeniable pull to watch the show?? Because they are...family??

I called my mom immediately to inform her of the situation. She calmly told me that Delvecchio was a very popular name. Obviously she wasn't understanding the urgency of the situation and the gravity of the information that I had just shared with her. "NO, mom," I told her, "We're related to PAULY D! Don't you understand?!" I don't think she did, but she did sarcastically replied that I was probably right and, if so, he probably owed us some money. Oh, mom.

I feel like this has been a lot for you to take in at once so I'm just going to give you the night to register what I've just told you. I know I needed the time.