"when's the last time you ate a carrot?"

countdown to Lent

"I asked almost everyone I interviewed why they thought people have such a hard time eating healthfully. I expected to hear criticism: that people are lazy or unintelligent, that they don’t know what’s good for them, that they don’t care or are in denial. I heard something unexpected instead. My friend, food writer and Slate contributor Regina Schrambling, said: “People don’t think they’re worth it.” Registered dietitian Dana Angelo White echoed this sentiment, specifically in regard to mothers. It never occurred to me that this was a reason people didn’t eat right. Is this what it comes down to? The L’Oreal slogan?"

-Ellen Tarlin, slate.com

MKO: My sister and I are busy; we make work and our careers a priority.
BC: Andy really believed in work, and I think work will save everybody. Great old people like Diana Vreeland or Elanor Lambert, who was about 101 years old and still doing PR--they're the greatest people because they still have an interest in life. And I think the sooner you can figure out something you like to do and get into it the better.
*Bob Colacello, Influence

when's the last time you had a conversation with yourself? a nice, warm, heart-to-heart...

when's the last time you took a few minutes to yourself? to sit peacefully and reflect on you. not what's happening at work, with your classes, your love life, your social life...but really took some time for you?

have a seat. lower the computer screen. turn the music down, it doesn't have to be off, just low enough that you can hear...you. and put that phone on silent. if it's urgent, they'll leave a voicemail.

maybe you want to close your eyes. or maybe you want to sit in front of a mirror and stare at the reflection. study the person looking back at you. notice that scar on your right cheek that kinda looks like a tiny birthmark. a beauty mark. notice the shape of your eyes. your nose. the fullness of your lips. take a minute to smile at the reflection, she really is beautiful.

and when you're done with the outside, turn the conversation inward. how've you been? what are you doing that's making you smile? have you commended yourself recently? I bet you've achieved more than you've given yourself credit for and i hope you're not waiting for someone else to acknowledge your accomplishments. that's why we're here today. to acknowledge...you. what are you proud of? what have you overcome? don't forget to go and brush your shoulders off.

so, what's got you down? let's start with a stretch. inhale. so, are you making silly mistakes at work? is it the weather? yeah, this winter-in-spring shit is for the birds. or is it some stupid boy? you know better than that. niggas ain't shit but hoes and tricks. fuck 'em. exhale--release.

what are your strengths? everyone's got some of those, so you're no different. don't forget about them, they'll get you through your weaknesses.

and let's talk about these weaknesses. they're not really weaknesses, just areas of improvement. look how well we spun that! just like Wall Street financiers did with their earnings statements. except you're not ruining everyone's lives. just improving yours. but back to you, make a note of those areas, and now, let's set out and improve them, so we can add them to the list of accomplishments.

take one last stretch. a deep inhale and exhale.

go ahead, take over the world.

breakfast of champions

because you can't eat sausage, egg and cheese everyday...

you will need:


1/2 cup of oatmeal (NOT INSTANT)


2 tablespoons of brown sugar



1 apple cut up into 1/2 - 1 inch cubes



a lot of (2% reduced fat) milk



a shiny, new bowl named "Shawn (Jones)"



a microwave


directions:
mix oatmeal, brown sugar and apples in shiny, new bowl.
note: you don't need more sugar because the apples more than cover that area.

pour milk to cover ingredients.

microwave on high for 3 minutes. stir. put back in microwave for additional time if not yet creamy.
note: the microwave in my office is pretty shitty so it takes anywhere from 5-8 minutes to prepare. USE YOUR JUDGMENT. when the oats look fluffy and creamy it's ready.

voilà!

enjoy. you just made bomb ass oatmeal.

TMI

"I'm sure a hundred years ago the speed of information was obviously slower and not globalized; now the world is one big thing and everything is sped up. People get bored too quickly. It's sad, because we're jaded. Even if we didn't want to be, we'd still be jaded because of the speed at which we receive and get bored by information"
*Alexandre de Betak, as told to M-K, Influence

Sully safely landed the plane in the Hudson. some crazy chick had octuplets. Chris beat Rih Rih. A-Rod and his steroids. something about a recession. cows jumped over the moon AND a dish ran away with a spoon. way too much is happening at once.

while inundated with headlines, we're also supposed to be hyped about some Degrassi actor turned rapper, deal with Duke insisting on racking up the L's, and be on top of the latest facebook activity, because 25 things lists are sooo last week.

oh, and i also wanna finally finish reading Savage Inequalities and Influence and do my taxes, upload my pictures from my camera, find an apartment, and check everything off of at least one list.

all while working 10 hour days.

sometimes I get overwhelmed because I'll sit in front of my computer with five tabs open in Mozilla and not a clue of what to do first. and my fucking phone won't stop going off. BBM. email. text. phone calls. and for some reason i don't turn it off because i still wanna talk to you and you and you. i don't want to be overwhelmed, jaded because there's so much going on but nothing's ever gonna get done. i wanna get to everything, but in this day and age it's as if we're to use both hands and both feet to start as many projects as possible, but not completing a damn thing.

sitting having brunch and wondering why the fuck it's taking so long for me to get my damn food. but why am I in such a rush? to go and do what? I make my own damn schedule. so, actually, take your time with those eggs.

and then I'm gonna stroll around the neighborhood. go into a store or two. just to browse. when i get home, i'll slip into sweats, turn on the Sunday playlist and sit back for a bit. clear my head.

anything pressing? no? okay, well let's call today a music day. and just do that. feel satisfied because I added 15 new songs to my library. even if it took 3 hours, i did it my way.

the headlines, facebook and BBM can wait. they're only distractions.

because i'm two seconds from losing my mind and the only way to stay sane will be to slow down and disconnect. in '09.

push it 2009

i secretly wish that i had some kinda crazy athletic ability. in high school, i played softball second semester sophomore year. hated it. junior year, Jordan and I founded the soccer team. we never got past JV. that year I also played badminton. i was in the exhibition squad and cut by senior year.

i sucked at sports.

but i loved gym class. and i loved hood tournaments during the annual block party. i was a beast at double dutch. but when it came to athletic ability, i was seriously lacking.

how does a non-athlete end up playing a pretty athletic sport like soccer? as goalie, of course.

from the start, it was agreed that that'd be my position. i called it. i really wanted to be on a team and show the world that i was a winner. but i hated running. goalies just had to stand there and slide tackle an opponent or two. i could even use my hands (pause).

when i got to college, i signed up for a kickboxing class almost every semester because I knew exercise was important. i'd go to the gym and do the elliptical or the bike, and i'd walk past the tready as if we were enemies and it was dead to me. i hated running. i mean, where was I running to?! so, despite being decently active, I remained out of shape.

it started as an exercise to improve what's on the outside. i really just wanted to be a good clotheshorse.

i got a gym membership. the fine ass trainer said tready was the only way. i batted my lashes and obliged. anything for you, baby.

so i'd walk at a moderate pace for about an hour. then one night sloane and i were on the tready watching Oprah and out of nowhere came Beyoncé. i ran half a mile.

by the next week it was a mile. 1.5. watching a Knicks game and before I knew it I was at two and I felt great. by the new year, Solange was leading me into power runs where I had to make a conscious decision to either jump off the machine or run into tomorrow. hooked.

being out of shape posed a real challenge initially. i'd have to give myself the biggest pep talk before i kicked the speed up 3 notches from 2.5. i'd set a goal, 15 minutes. 20 minutes. 25. 30. i'd coach myself through the whole run. come on. you can do it. only 10 minutes left. 5. 1. you're done. and then i'd keep going. i didn't wanna be done. i was learning to push myself, and it felt great.

until now, anything that didn't come easily to me, i dismissed. i had enough that i was good at. did i really need to be ill at translating Latin, memorizing Britney lyrics AND varsity sports? the truth is that i was never a great athlete because i didn't want to push myself.

a wise person once said "your mental fitness is connected to your physical fitness." being fit requires challenging yourself with every workout. trying to go a little further, pushing a little harder than the last time. and then there's that sweet feeling of success when you're done. the endorphins are having a party in your pants as you're at work managing every project thrown at you. over-delivering on assignments. keeping your boss on top of what's happening in the industry. and, within no time, becoming a boss.

this summer, i'm gonna learn to swim.

sagittariuses are also characteristically optimistic

i have bad days, but they're few and far between. something about sitting in one spot on some "woe is me" shit doesn't really work for me. i prefer to call one or two or three friends, get it all outta my system, and be over it.

last wednesday started as a bad day. there were chest pains from coughing too much. and then everyone in my office decided that that was the best day to be frantic about nothing, and i just don't do frantic, that's not how i work. and i was tired. over it.

miss ross called. she was at some bar. $5 drinks. so i met up with her thinking that'd be a great way to unwind from a stressful day. got to the bar. captain morgan waved hello. and then i got a call, "stephanie, this is your Captain speaking. don't forget you gave up alcohol for Lent." over.it.

so i'm tired, in pain, can't have a drink, and there's a man sitting next to miss ross that just won't stop telling us about how much he loves his girlfriend of five years and her kids. done.

and just like that, with less than three hours left in the day, it got better.

we had two orders of bomb ass chicken wings and loaded potato skins. a deeply discounted bill. and then we crossed the street and took a tour of heaven...















...the m&m's store.

three floors of everything m&m you could possibly need.


nighties and bedding!


towels and bathroom accessories!


bowls and plates and placemats, oh my!


someone please turn this into a t-shirt!


and potties, just in case the excitement has you on the verge of peeing yourself.

a perfect day.

i believe that happiness is a choice. things don't always go your way, but when they do, hold on to those times, they'll get you through the darker days.

"when people show you who they are, believe them."

bag fellas

don't date her because she's a virgin. she's gonna get attached.
her last guy did her wrong. she's got trust issues.
she got daddy issues.
she just got issues.

all that may be true, but you've got issues, too. see, the difference with men and women is that women (at least attempt to) deal with their issues. you guys fuck us over, we talk to our girlfriends, cry about it for a few months, weeks, or, hopefully just days, and then we get over it. but you men don't cry. you don't talk about it. you don't do shit but act like you're over it. your insecurities are just as great as ours. there's no way you're gonna convince me that you were born that confident. that you think you look that good. that your dumbass could actually become that accomplished. we're the beautiful, intelligent ones with limitless potential, and you recognize that and feel threatened by it. you decide that if you can't beat us, actually, you beat us. physically, verbally, emotionally. and then you say sorry, because you actually are. you're a sorry excuse for a man. but, don't worry about it. you'll get yours someday.

but for all of you who actually wanna lift us up, try a kind word or three. try being genuinely interested in what we're interested in. try making us smile instead of cry. try listening. and you're right, it's not all about us. and we want to be there for you, too. but we can't do that if you don't speak to us. let us in. let us know what's going on. let us give you a kind word or three. let us be interested in what you're interested in. let us make you smile. we want to listen. but you've gotta meet us halfway.