Archive Page 3

07
Mar
11

I want to make out with an appliance.


(cue porn music here)

 

The Cuisinart CBK200 Bread Maker

Click on that hot little number and you can do a price check for the cheapest deal.

I make bread in that almost every day.

When I wake up in the morning, I can smell it wafting up the stairs.

The Barry White greatest hits soundtrack is running through my head as I float down to the kitchen and slither over to the machine, mouth drooling as I pull out the hot loaf that I had preset to cook overnight.

I leave the butter out the night before to be nice and soft and ready to spread on the hot, steamy deliciousness of homecooked, sulfite-free rosemary homemade yummernummerness.

No one talk to me until I am done.

Someone have a cigarette?

 

Seriously, this thing rocks.   In a world where I literally sometimes have to go two days without eating much of anything because I am too busy to prepare food, I can always fill up on some insanely amazing bread.  (I did not eat until 9:20pm last night after a crazy day of a kids birthday party, a lacrosse game and a 3 hour rehearsal downtown.  Wait.  Why am I not thinner?  Oh yeah.  Bread and Butter.) I have played around with different ingredients and last night I actually made the perfect loaf.  I not only have found the best flour, but the most amazing imported olive oil.

The recipe does not call for much, water, salt (I use sea salt, of course), dried rosemary (I used organic but in summer, I will dry out my own from the garden and use that), yeast, flour and oil.  The flour that I am using is Bob’s Red Mill unbleached flour, perfect for bread making.  I got mine at Whole Foods, but I am thinking I can probably get it in the organic section at The Jewel.  And the other key ingredient was this INSANELY OUTRAGEOUS amazing olive oil that I bought bootleg from my neighbor down the street, well call him Antonio (of course) and he has started to import goods from his cousin’s farm in Sicily.  He came over to our house with a basket of charmingly packaged items like olive pate, homemade marmalade, bruchetta, marinaded eggplant…I know SULFITE ALARM but I did buy the olive tapenade for Thor and one for my mom.  I got the bruchetta for me.  Yes, it has some garlic and onions in it.  Yes, I will risk it.   He was such a good salesmen, though…he was so cute with his thick accent too….he was like, “Oh-a, this, eh, marme-la-da, you pick-a da….orange?  And you pick it-a, PICK IT-A, (and he is acting it all out like little italian man charades) the orange-a and you-a, cut-a the orange-a and you eh, put it jar POOF!….”

Talking to Antonio, Thor and I were immediately taken back to our amazing Mediterranean cruise we went on two years ago and all hyped up with the reminiscent feelings of our magical adventure, were totally fooled and charmed, so we bought all this crap I can’t eat.  American suckers.

But we were smart enough to buy two bottles of the Piazza extra virgin olive oil.  You can’t get this anywhere but here and Sicily, the operation is very covert and a bit Ian Fleming.  If you want me to hook you up, let me know.  They are getting wines in 3 weeks and Limoncello.  It’s all very slutty.  They have a website that they are still working on and I will let you know when it’s up.

My point is, find a really organic, fantastic EVOO.  We have a place called The Olive Tap near us in Long Grove, Illinois that has a wonderful section of not only olive oils, but vinegars.  (Vinegar not good for us sulfite-nots)  It’s also really cool in there because they have gorgeous Italian-inspired items, knick-knacks, crap I don’t need for my kitchen.

Now, a cookbook came with my breadmaker and truthfully, I can’t make a lot of the recipes.  I do love making the french bread and my favorite is the Rosemary bread.  The machine has been a lifesaver for me and I do recommend that if you are handy in the kitchen, like MOI, and don’t have a lot of time, invest in one and you too will find that there might eventually be lipstick imprints all over the stainless steel.

And I can just bet that your favorite cycle will be “knead.”  Enjoy!

 

 

 

19
Feb
11

Goal of the day: Do not stroke out.


Oh yeah.
So I go on Enbrel and my RA is amazingly in remission.
Dude. I RAN up the stairs the other day.
Thor said, “Heather. You just ran up the stairs.”

OHMIGOD!
Cool!

But for some wack-a-doo reason, my blood pressure is freaking out. AlrightalrightalRIGHT.  STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT.  Ok.  I have been cheating, people. A teeeeeeeeny bit.  I admit it. I thought I would test out the waters since I have been on the new meds.  I got a little cocky and decided to shove some ion SO2−3 in my mouth.  See what happens.


Funny.  It didn’t look like this in the grilled cheese sandwich I shoved in my mouth.

 

I think all this evil sulfite compound is doing is shaving important hours off of my life. I called my loving, adorable and very talented Dr.Mike (and Facebooked him.  Oops. He might just kill me at my appointment on Monday. Stay tuned for the results.) and he is going to fix me up but good.
I also talked to my Rheumy nurse to rule out this as a side effect of Enbrel and she said no but she was concerned about my BP (it’s hovering constantly around 160/107) but she told me to just take it easy this weekend…“lie in a darkened room and relax all weekend until you can get in to see Dr. Mike.”)
Oh, that’s rich. HA.  HA HA.  Stop….stop making me laugh…snorting….my rock hard abs hurt from laughing so hard….milk spittake ensues.
There is no resting in a dark room.  Not over here at the residence of  666 Chaos Lane, in CrazyHeatherville, USA.
I am a mother of three wild children, a vocal recital to run today…overnight guests coming and and a lacrosse game, just to name a couple of things on my dance card for the next 24 hours.
DAMN YOU, Regal Theatre movie pretzel with a side of cheese!
I CURSE YOU, baloney sandwich on Wonder Bread white. (Oh, hot dayum, that tasted good.)

So I am medicating myself with advil and much later, in my darkened room, a glass or 2 of wine.

*********************************

Is my BP high from the food?

We will see. I am going cold turkey and see if it will come down.  Is my body just really pissed at me because I am taking Enbrel and it won’t let me swell?  So now it like, ok bitch ,that’s how you want to play it….ZAP!  (blood pressure spike HERE!  and HERE!….and just when you think it’s going down to normal…HERE!)

I do have a really swollen lymph node in the armpit of my….armpit….lovely, no?  And it really hurts.  I feel like crap so I might just have some little bug. Enbrel basically kills my immune system and kids have been sick all around me this week.   Seriously.  Like one kid at a Valentines party sneezed right on me.  It was all over my arm.  Gag.  That, and Alpha sneezed on the butter the other day.  I mean it.  For reals.

Wish me luck, wish me willpower, wish me to live through the day…happy weekend everyone!

04
Feb
11

Pump Fake (quite literally)


Today was my training with Thor for my first Embrel injection.

What we learned today:  I am a suckass wimp.

And so is Thor.

I had to go in to get my first shot shot today of this new biologic drug that is supposed to not only make me feel better, but basically make me symptom-free.  Which is just about perfect timing as yesterday I was calling friends to see if anyone had a cane lying around that I could borrow to walk around.  Jeez, Louise.

So we get there and because insurance is so annoying, they had to give me a sample.  They get me all prepped, (Thor was supposed to give it to me but he “assured” me that it was probably best and easier if I do it a.k.a.  Thor=pussy.)  Alright, so he’s not a pussy, he is very sweet,.  I am just trying to make myself  look better.

So I have to drop my pants

and get up on the table with Thor and Dr. Rheumy and Nurse Nice.  (She is very nice and helpful.)  Dropping trough in front of strangers is never fun.  And I wished that I hadn’t worn “that” underwear.

My rheumy is french and rather, well, hot.  And she is a very, very smart blonde and I have a feeling she can also really cook.  So she is trying to instruct me how to do it and I have to take the alcohol swab and rub it in a certain direction and then I do it but I bump my hand on it and I have “contaminated” the area we has just swabbed so we have to re-swab and well, there were a lot of disappointed french sounds being uttered but she was being as patient as she could be with a blonde trying to give herself her first injection.

And do I finally and do and it was cake! So Easy!  Didn’t hurt in the least!

Cause it was defective.

Total dud.  Absolute pump fake.  HEY!  Sue that pharmaceutical salesmen and let me kick his ass because now we have to wait another 10 minutes for the next sample to cool down and do shove it in my other thigh.

I put my pants back on and Thor and I stared at each other for another 10 minutes.

I know it worked the second time cause it freaken hurt.  And it takes about 15 seconds for it to all get in there so yeah, ow.  But I am a warrior and I plowed through.

“Oh Embrel, course through my body, heal all wounds and swollen joints, help me walk pup the stairs without tripping and falling into the wall.”
So far, so good.  I seem a bit more tired than usual, but I am not bleeding about the eyes and ears and that’s all that really matters.  The only really important thing is that I cannot get sick.  Really.  Like, don’t sneeze near me or touch me if you have an infection or rub on me if you are pussy or leaking anything.  And really just don’t ever really rub on me in any situation.

I was worried because I have heard that the quick pen version of how my meds are injected has preservatives in it but so far, so good.  I have read where some sulfitenots use the version of the drug where they have to mix it themselves and shoot it that way and that is just a little bit too Sid and Nancy for me, so I hope this one works…

I still have to stay on my steroids for now, and i think they mask a lot of my sulfite reactions, so I will continue to gain weight as I have been cheating and sneaking some little things here and there.  Like blonde oreos…cause…well…you know…

Happy weekend to all!
XO

Heather

MyFreeCopyright.com Registered & Protected

31
Jan
11

Kale Chips


Crunchy Kale Chips

By Marge  (Found this awesome recipe from a great RA site, called RA Warriors.  Check out some of the other recipes that might be adjusted for us. Kelly Young’s RA Site.)


Ingredients

1 Tablespoon apple cider vinegar
½ Tablespoons salt (or less, they’re pretty salty)  (USE SEA SALT, OF COURSE)
3 Tablespoons olive oil
1 bunch kale, rinsed

Directions

Tear kale leaves from tough center stem.  Tear or cut leaves into 2 to 3 inch pieces. Put pieces in a large bowl.

Mix vinegar, oil, and salt in a small cup and drizzle over kale.  Then mix by hand trying to get all the leaves covered.

Place on 2 cookie sheets and bake at 350 F until they are crispy. It helps to flip them over and move them around with a spatula at about 10 minutes in to make sure they bake evenly.

After about 20 minutes, if it looks like they are not sizzling a bit or getting a little crispy, turn up the heat to 400°F. Time for baking varies depending on the size of your chips and desired crispness.

Note from Marge: Antioxidants are needed to help fight RA.  Kale is loaded with them.  If you’ve never been fond of green leafy vegetables, do not worry.  These crispy chips will fool you into thinking you’re noshing on something much more indulgent. Think potato chips with a kick.

31
Jan
11

When in doubt, post kale.


Well, hello there.

I have been an absentee blogger.  Bad blogger, BAD BLOGGER.

I have mostly been trying to wrap my head around this whole business of my rheumatoid arthritis, which has hit me like a mack truck.  And, what to do with this blog.  LOL

I mean, I definitely have an allergy to sulfites that makes my RA worse.  But this site seems to be geared towards sulfitenots and lately all I really want to focus in is the RA crap and I don’t want to bore anyone.  More than I usually do.

So I thought, I would just re-invent this blog to meet both needs.  And the RA peeps are gonna have to deal with the sulfite stuff and the sulfitenots are going to have to deal with the RA crap.

And the sharks and the jets are gonna have to play nice at the park.

I found a recipe that involves kale because it’s sulfite-free and the antioxidants are huge in helping to fight RA.  Will post it in the recipe section.

I feel like I have gotten into a pretty good routine with my no-sulfite eating lately.  I definitely am not getting the major attacks as I used to, partly because I know how to check everything now and also, friends and family are being really supportive.  Everyone has been really conscious and caring about what I can and cannot eat and it has made a huge difference.

There is still the pink elephant in the room question looming around all the time though:

Do I truly have this allergy or is it just my RA?

My Rheumatologist kind of doesn’t believe me.  LOL  Like, I love her, she is so cool and doing an amazing job with me, but when I bring it up, she looks like this

And in her cute french accent, she looks at me with a slide glance and says, “I don’t know about all of that.”

but I DO!  I DO know!  I eat something and 4 hours later, something bad happens.  OK, so there is no test.  But that should be enough, right?

We need to find someone, somewhere, some dr or allergist who will hurry up and make a test so we can all take it!

Let’s go one step further, people!  We need our own ribbon!  But instead of it being pink or red, white and blue, or yellow, maybe it should look like this:

Wear it proudly, sulfitenots!  (Don’t stab yourself putting it on.)

 

ok, I have to run.  But I also wanted to tell you that I got a Cuisinart breadmaker for my birthday and it’s AH.MAY.ZING.

Before I got it, I had bread pimps out there in the world for me…minions who would grab the Breadsmith bread that I can eat that you can only get Whole Foods or stores that are not near me and I would have to have them store it in their freezers.  But now I can make my own and it’s sooooo easy!  Who would have thunk that this blonde can make hot, succulent, steamy rosemary bread?

That’s it.  Have to go make a batch right now.

Huge snow storm coming to Chicagoland tomorrow…Stay warm!

 

 

06
Dec
10

I Lerve Groupon


ORGANIC CHAT

So, hi.

How are you?

I’m fine.

Just got back from doing some shows in Wisconsin.

I had an omelette Saturday morning and it virtually killed me.

But it was fricken TASTY.

What else is going on with you?

So, check this out…

ORGANIC FOOD DEAL

Organic food for cheapy cheap!

If I had any money, I would get it for myself, but I don’t, so you get it!

I try to buy as much organic food as I can, especially produce, but it breaks the bank, know what I mean?  Plus, there are some fruits and veggies that you just don’t need to bother with in my opinion.

Here is my DO buy list:

Peaches, apples, cherries, bell peppers, celery, strawberries, lettuce, spinach, tomatoes, raspberries, carrots

and my DON’T BOTHER list:

avocado, corn, pineapple, mango, asparagus , eggplant, all melons, broccoli, bananas, cauliflower, squash

I mean, if I could, I would buy all of these things.

If I could, I would also take a bath made entirely out of butter, but we can’t afford these things, can we?

Check this out…I ran across this somewhere, don’t ask me, I have 693 window tabs open right now…

all these organic foods are actually made by the same people that make Heinz canned baked beans and chicklets.  CHICK-EH-LETS!  CHICK-EH-LETS! CHICK-EH-LETS!

It’s all complicated.  The organics game. Too complicated at least for this blond.  Like, for example, these organic companies HERE are actually owned by Hain Celestial who are in some cahoots with Heinz.

I mean, would I rather grow everything in my backyard and then have some cows and goats and chickens and make everything myself?  Well, I would not mind the garden.  But yeah, not ready to deal with the other stuff.  If I think about the fact that chicken pops an egg out of it’s ass, then I can’t really get the gumption to put an egg in my mouth.  And I am NOT going to touch anything that just came from a chicken ass.

So these big corporations that say that they only deal in organics are actually hanging out having big boy drinks and rubbing elbows with the “bad guys” who make chipped beef in a can.

Then I ask myself, why do I care?  I mean, I should.  I have children.  I make them put all this food in their mouth.

Do you?

And now I have to go clean my house and make dinner, do the homework and get Alpha to lacrosse practice.  So i’ll blow off thinking about this for now.  It’ll pop back into my steroid scrambled brain at 3:47am.  Mark my words.

02
Dec
10

To top it all off…my underwear fell Down


I have ‘roid rage.

And I am surrounded by a virtual plethora of people who really do not care to deal with me at the moment.

I am having a problem dealing with even the small dose of prednisone that I am on for the next three months to help to get my RA in remission for a bit.  I am supposed to be picking out my new medications for all of this but I am so confused and overwhelmed and now manic and slovenly.  S’not pretty, ladies and gentlemen.  So I am ignoring it all and will instead tell you about how my undies fell down yesterday in the halls of a catholic school.

No, I am trying to share one of my weird dreams. No, I am not a total perv.  It was just part for the course of my ridiculously mentally exhausting day yesterday.

I was supposed to be helping out at a local high school to cast their spring musical last night.  They needed a vocal coach to help them in that department and I was happy to help, as I did last year.  But I made the commitment months ago and didn’t know that I would end up sick and feeling like the Son of Sam on crack.  It was too late to back out yesterday, but I really didn’t feel very up to the task at hand.

I had a horrible day of freaking out and crying over the littlest amounts of spilled milk and nothing was going right.  My holiday show sold out (a good thing) but trying to schedule an encore performance was stressful, so I was all hopped up on that drama for the afternoon.  I also had a hair appointment scheduled AFTER the auditions, to fix my nappy roots because I looked a lot like this

Seriously, it’s been months.

And I have 3 gigs this weekend, 2 of which are in WI at a 900 seat house each day and the girl need her hair did , yo.

So I had to be at, oh let’s call it, St.Mary Ingatious, Peter, Paul and All the Saints for Christ’s Sake’s Catholic school to help them right before 3pm and I can’t even concentrate my insane mind on getting ready and getting Cracker ready to go to the neighbors and I can’t find my keys and oh yeah, it’s snowing.  The first snow.  And a cold ass snow, to boot.  And I have Raynauds so I have two pairs of those cheap Walgreens gloves on, medication that I take at night for this and even after all of that, my extremities still look like dead hooker hands and I can’t turn the wheel.

I need to go through Starbucks, because, well, who wouldn’t in my condition and I am running late and I finally get to St.Mary Ingatious, Peter, Paul and All the Saints for Christ’s Sake’s Catholic school and of course school is just letting out.  I find a space and I am carrying my water and my coffee and my purse and some SF bread that I am literally shoving onto my my mouth because I (a) have roid rage hunger of a thousand mutant samurais and (2) I know I wont eat for hours.  I have crumbs stuck in my lip gloss, bad hair; a total disaster.  I am walking in high heel boots, which is totally insane because I can hardly WALK these days and as I get to the locked doors to the auditorium, I start to feel a strange sensation [not a good one] near my ass.

I kick, and punch and fall into the doors, hoping someone will help this poor woman, carrying all this crap and obviously dealing with some sort of steroid-induced haze.  But no.   I have to walk across, around and over 13 miles to the left of the 7th circle of the sun to get to an open door.  About half way, I realize that what is happening in my pants is that my underwear is falling down and I have not one loose little finger anywhere to get in and dig them out.  I know at this point that I have to go in and find the closest girls bathroom and STAT.  Please understand that while I am losing my skivvies, my pants are totally intact and I am absolutely not doing anything illegal. It is a total undergarment accident, completely unintentional and naked to the human eye.

Because I was late, I was entering the hallways, avec a full cup of coffee, as the BELL RINGS.  Holy Cannolli, here they all come!  Now I am a pinball.  A fat, sweaty, tardy, angry little pinball being bumped, shoved, pushed and trampled.  Some girl actually flipped her hair in my face and it tasted like coconut lotion.  Grody, people.  Just…come ON.

Do they not see me?  Do they not notice coffee dribbling from my arms, tears streaking down my face.  I am a woman, invisible.  Demented, directionally challenged and losing her underwear.

That’s right, OMG, My UNDERWEAR.

A perk of not being able to eat food anymore is that I have lost 25 pounds.  A non perk is that my granny panties don’t stay up anymore.

So now I am walking through the crowd, flung around like a blind lemming.  So paranoid that these poor innocent children might be able to tell through my skinny jeans that my underwear has fallen down and is hanging down in my pants on either side of my thighs.  It’s truly the worst feeling imaginable.  (If you are a girl and you have experienced that moment when you think you have gotten Aunt Flo and it’s noticeable to everyone in the world as you are walking around, you can relate to this feeling.)

OF COURSE they couldn’t tell.  OF COURSE they were not looking. OF COURSE they had no idea they were practically stepping on and closing hallway doors on one of the people that could guarantee that they were going to get the lead in the school play.  How would they know?

When I finally get to the auditorium, throw the rest of what is my coffee, purse, smushed bread and all my other crap on the table and find a bathroom where someone isn’t changing into their dance belt, I leap into a stall, hoist up my underwear, fold it over the top of my jeans and shove it under my belt, pull down my sweater, wipe a tear from my eye and get ready for battle.

Have underwear, will travel.

These poor kids.  They have no idea that there will be consequences now to them being unprepared for their audition.    They don’t realize that when they walk in with attitude and roll their eyes when I ask them to sing a song again, that I will actually be so roid-influenced, that they will piss me off.  I will recognize the shovey girl who made me eat her hair in hallway B.  I will write their name on the chorus list with a sharpie because they looked at me wrong.  They deserved a lead, maybe, but don’t give me that look, because I get it from you one more time, and you are going to be tree #3 on the left.  You got it, cookie?

None of this of course really happened. All the students was adorable, fantastic, thoughtful, professional, sweet and charismatic.  I treated them all fairly and with respect.  But in the padded cell that is my mind, it all went down the kooky way.  I actually love the woman who heads up the department and all the people working on the show and I wish I didn’t have so much going on because I would have absolutely loved to be a part of the whole process.  Talented kids, staff all around…some day I hope to do more of that,because it is so rewarding to me.

I finally made it to my hair appointment 30 minutes late.  Because of this, I had to wait another 40 minutes and I was still getting my hair done at 10:15pm. None of this matters, of course, because my hair looks friggen AWESOME.  And, also because there was some wine involved.

And now, kittens.  To bed…to lie there and stare at the walls, freak myself out and act like a crazy woman, all in the comfort of my bed.  Thank God for the Droid sleep app and a pair of ear buds.

UNDERGARMENT INCIDENTALS

I will confess that this was not the first time, but the THIRD time I have had a public problem with my underwear.  Ask my best friend…we will call her FraAllison.  She will tell you, alright.  Truth.

And I will share both of those incidents with you soon.

Until then, may you undies stay on, may your coffee not spill, may you not have to eat teenage, flat-ironed hair in a hallway and may you sleep like a baby.

XO




Heather Moran

Crazed sulfite-free woman.

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 2,783 other followers

Blog Stats

  • 52,482 hits

Top Rated

May 2019
M T W T F S S
« May    
 12345
6789101112
13141516171819
20212223242526
2728293031  
Health Blogs - BlogCatalog Blog Directory

%d bloggers like this: