I'm pretty hot stuff

I try to go as long as I can without turning on the air conditioning in our apartment when I get home from work... makes me feel like I'm really experiencing the steamy, sultry, city summer, kind of like Blanche DuBois in A Streetcar Named Desire or that Matthew McConaughey movie set in the South where all the characters are in a constant state of perspiration. However, when the back of my knees and the crook of my elbows start to leak droplets of sweat, I cannot resist the cool whispers of the A/C. Another refreshing summer treat is a nice bowl of gazpacho.



Here's my favorite recipe, adapted from Spanish chef Jose Andres. Buen provecho!

Ingredients:
- About 2 pounds of ripe tomatoes (I like to use the really red cherry tomatoes that come on a vine)
- 1 cucumber, peeled
- 1/2 bell pepper, any color
- 1 garlic clove, peeled
- 2 tablespoons vinegar
- 3/4 cup Spanish extra virgin olive oil
- 2 teaspoons salt

Just chop the tomatoes (don't have to do this if they are cherry), cucumber and pepper and blend in a food processor or blender. Add the garlic, vinegar and 1/2 cup of water and mix until it becomes a lovely pink color. Add olive oil and salt and blend one more time. If you like your gazpacho very smooth, strain the mixture before pouring it into a pitcher or bowl. Let the soup cool in the fridge for at least 30 minutes before serving. As a garnish, I like to toast french bread, tear it up and add it to my bowl. Enjoy!

i jinxed myself...

As soon I published the post below, a clap of thunder brought me back from my reverie. In the past month, there has been a freak thunderstorm almost every other day. Walking home from work one evening, I witnessed black clouds rolling in overhead, covering the blue sky in a somber blanket in less than a minute. Suddenly, everything became eerily quiet, and then the wind came ripping through the city... I really thought I was about to witness the Apocalypse. Here's a photo of tonight's storm making its entrance, as seen through my apartment window.

My toes have found the sun again!

Happy feet...

girlfriends are good

Along with about every other woman between the ages of 25-50 in Boston, I saw the Sex and the City movie last night. The movie opens with the familiar theme song and everyone immediately started clapping. At that moment, I felt so connected to all of those women sitting in the dark around me. I realized that each of us were longing to fill the void that had opened since the show had ended. Sounds silly, but for me, it was not so much the show that I missed, but it was chance to spend 30 minutes every Sunday night with my girlfriends, living vicariously through Carrie and her Manolo Blahniks. At that time in my life, I was living with four of my best friends, all of us single. Men were people that we'd date with from time to time, when we weren't busy hanging out with each other.

Living with my husband has been great, but I do miss having my girlfriends an arm's length away. We still see each other, but not as often, and as we all settle down into serious relationships, the embarrassing dating stories that we used to share with each other over our Sunday night Chinese take-out dinners are few and far between. Last night was a chance for us to relive our past and, for me, to realize how important it is to have such wonderful women in my life.

One of favorite scenes from an episode of Sex and the City explains my feelings perfectly:

Charlotte:
"Don't laugh at me, but maybe we can be each other's soul-mates? And then, we could let men be just these great, nice guys to have fun with."

Samantha:
"Well...that sounds like a plan."

Sounds like a plan indeed.

American Idols

In a recent Boston Sunday Globe article, a mother expressed her concern over the negative influence that role models such as Lindsay Lohan and Miley Cyrus may have on her daughters. I'd like to take a moment to remind my mother how lucky she was, by presenting you a few of my childhood idols.

big girl, you are beautiful

One of my guilty pleasures is America's Next Top Model. Well, it's not guilty actually; there is no shame in my love for the hot messes that are Tyra and the Jays. However, this season.... er, cycle....seems a bit tired to me. Sure, the location was moved from LA to NYC, but the format is the same- makeovers (which always result in at least 2 or 3 girls getting horrendous weaves that give Britney Spears' head a reason to feel good about itself), creation of "the bitch" character (this season it's Dominique- who cannot be less than 35 years old if you ask me), and of course, the gratuitous shots of life-size images of Tyra adorning the models' loft.

This week "plus size" model Whitney got called out by some designer Pamela Rodale (or something like that...I'd never heard of her). According to Pamela, she would never put a size 10 girl in her runway show, and I think she punished Whitney for being so morbidly obese by putting her in some ghastly leopard print mini dress and making her strut up and down the makeshift catwalk as her size-2 competitors watched with smirks on their faces.

Well, I hope Whitney wins it all and shows the skinny bitches that huge, fat, size-10 women do have a place in the fashion industry after all. Until then, I'll be waiting for a real plus-size girl to show up on ANTM, while trying to squeeze into my size-10 jeans.

My toes miss the sun

They are tired of being muffled by socks. They want to be free!!

Here they are at a happier, sunnier time....

(like my flip-flop tan?)