My Secret Single Behavior

Even though I do not live in Manhattan and I sadly cannot afford Milano Blahnik's or a downtown studio apartment, Sex in the City is my bible.

I will forever love the episode about secret single behaviors.

Carrie stand's over the sink eating saltines reading fashion magazines.

Miranda puts Vaseline on her hands with Borghese conditioning gloves while flipping through infomercials.

Charlotte observes her pores in a magnifying mirror.

Samantha has no secrets.

While I am quite often like Samantha (speculate but don't judge people) I do have many single behaviors that would be hard to break.

1. I like to floss my teeth wherever I am. Sometimes I do it in bed. At times the shower but sometimes in the kitchen while I'm waiting for the coffee to stop percolating. At least I floss regularly.

2. I like to wear leg warmers and shorts and dance to eighties bands (currently the Cure) while I cook my breakfast. I re-enact the opening from Flashdance.

3. I make up my own lyrics to songs on my radio. The best one to fit any lyrics to I have found so far is Men at Work's hit "Who Can it Be Now".

4. I like to give myself pedicures on the couch while watching episodes of Roseanne . After running and working out so much you can imagine what a train wreck that looks like.

5. I like to work out with minimal clothing. Baggy yoga pants and sweats distract me from feeling my muscles work. I look kind of like this. Not really, but let's take a moment to examine Christian Bale in the buff anyways.

6. I also treat my entire house as my personal laundry basket. Turn any corner in my house and you will find a small pile of clothing. This mind frame goes hand in hand with the fact that I often change in the dining room.

Guys, unless you find any of the above cute/endearing/tolerable then you have a lot to compete with.

I'm sure I'll think of some others but for now I retire.

Try to guess where in my house I will floss tonight.

xoxo Cherie Bobomb

I Can't Get No Satisfaction.

Traveling abroad for a two week period was long enough to allow me to have an outsider perspective of my life when I returned jet-lagged and half in a fog.

As I stared at my three grey cubicle walls, loopily writing checks twice for bills I began to ponder probably what any person with or sans mid-life crisis or David at the dentist has contemplated at some point.

Is this real life? More specifically is this MY real life?

Complacency is not good enough for me. It's time for some soul-searching changes.

After having really good non-processed food I can no longer stomach fast food and chemicals that are pumped into our food so I have found joy in looking for fresh products and preparing these items. My soul is soothed by tasting this food. I have also started back my weight loss & work out regimen and have established a love/hate relationship with pilates. I have started writing again. These things I thoroughly enjoy.

However these things only occupy a small percentage of my daily life. I need the things I do to have meaning. Or I need to find meaning in the things I do. I need to find my purpose. So over the last few weeks if I have seemed present but void or maybe complexed it is because I have been sorting and filing a lot of information in my brain. Over the next few weeks I will be considering what truly makes me happy and maintain inner peace. Don't fret folks, I'm not planning on drinking the kool-aid of some creepy cult or diving head-first into a religious regime. I just have some thinking to do.

I will decide if I am really content, if I can be content or if I need to find bliss elsewhere in regards to employment but also spilling over into other facets of my existence.

I need to find these things. This is my next journey.

I've started smiling like the pyscho-instructors on the work-out videos because this makes the tearing muscle pain and sweat rolling into my eyes more tolerable.

My homework assignment is to smile as much as I can this week. Smiles are contagious and euphoric.

Feel free to give it a try and report back to me.

Until next time,

Cherie Bobomb

The Rain in Spain Falls Roughly on my Brain...or the Truth About Jet Lag

Travel is great.

I have seen great things only being two days on this trip.

I have ate great food and drank awesome Spanish wine.

That being said, there is, however, a deep, dark, disturbing side of travel.

This is the kind of thing that will make you stand outside the Prado Museo in the courtyard with a few tears streaming down your face say in the most childish, stubborn voice 'I hate stupid Spain'.

Just as I began to fear I had reverted to childhood and became in less than 3 seconds flat the American every country likes to hate, my sister assured me this delirium is a part of jet lag.

After a continental breakfast at hotel Ibis featuring café so strong that I may not sleep all night and some delicious chocolate croissants and some type of potato pie thing we went to the Thyssen. It was three floors of many beautiful artworks. The entire 2nd floor is full of pictures of "La Virgin Maria y Christo" which is awesome if that's your kind of thing but to me if you've seen one picture of the birth of Christo you've seen them all.

Of course I did manage to get some laughs in as well. For example, I chuckled inside at this picture of "A Married Couple". See if it strikes your funny bone.

After 2-3 hours going through the Thyssen seeing the works of Degas, Picasso, and many other modern works and my mind willing, we set out for the Prado. The Prado is a little bit larger museum which houses older but much bigger pictures like Rubens and "The Garden of Earthly Delights" by Bosch:

I spent several minutes trying to find where Bosch painted himself in the picture with a white sombrero like a "Where's Waldo" puzzle from hundreds of years ago with no avail.

But let me back up.

Because it is Easter holiday only the museums were opened today and a few shops and I suspect since Madrid is not a small city the museums were so busy. I started to feel disoriented as I heard people speaking German, French, Japanese and unknown languages. These other cultures do not keep the same custom space in between bodies so I am beginning to feel like a small fish in a big pond. People keep bumping me. Something which I suspect was a Dogwood Tree caught my breath and I began to pre-panic as I did not pack an emergency asthma inhaler. Now even more disoriented I nervously make my way to the ticket counter where I say "Uno regular". I do not realize that I purchased 2 tickets and did not receive the correct amount of euros back. As I am confused looking at the two tickets a museum worker pushes us into another line that we did not even need to be in. Thus leading to the tears and the production where I am saying random things about how " I can't breathe" and "I can't sleep cause I don't have ac and now I can't keep my window open without having an asthma attack" and how "I don't even understand English at this point" while we are walking. The ticket taker is then trying to explain to me that I can try to explain that they sold me two tickets but I am thinking to myself if I couldn't ask for UNO ticket correctly in the first place then how am I supposed to explain in Spanish where the problem is. Long story even longer....my body/brain/logical thought shut down.

Moral of the story: First : Prepare for your body to hate you after flying 8 hours overseas. Secondly, don't try to squeeze in too much the first day of your arrival. Lastly, a bueno botella of Spanish Temperilla or Saviougn or Merlot will make everything all better.

I'm glad we explored the Prado not only cause well in my grumpy words "I bought two tickets I'm seeing some artwork" but it was really worth it to see the art and despite my story today was actually a good day. Tomorrow my body will be 100%, if not I'm taking some vino and a sippy cup for the road to Toledo and Caceres.

Unreasonably yours,

CherieBobomb

It's Dangerously Close: Birthday Quotes

It takes a long time to become young.
- Pablo Picasso

Everything I know I learned after I was thirty.
- Georges Clemenceau

Time and Tide wait for no man,
but time always stands still for a woman of thirty.
- Robert Frost

Thirty-five is when you finally get your head
together and your body starts falling apart.
- Caryn Leschen

After 30, a body has a mind of its own.
- Bette Midler

A man thirty years old, I said to myself, should have his field of life all ploughed, and his planting well done; for after that it is summer time.
- Lew Wallace

Thirty five is a very attractive age;
London society is full of women who have of their own
free choice remained thirty-five for years.
- Oscar Wilde

Very few people do anything creative after the age of thirty-five. The reason is that very few people do anything creative before the age of thrity-five.
- Joel Hildebrand

Our birthdays are feathers in the broad wing of time.
- Jean Paul Richter

Let us celebrate the occasion with wine and sweet words.
- Plautus

There are three hundred and sixty-four days when you might get un-birthday presents ... and only one for birthday presents, you know.
- Lewis Carroll

We turn not older with years, but newer every day.
- Emily Dickinson

We are always the same age inside.
- Gertrude Stein

No wise man ever wished to be younger.
- Jonathan Swift

One of the signs of passing youth is the birth of a sense of fellowship with other human beings as we take our place among them.
- Virginia Woolf

The best birthdays of all are those that haven't arrived yet.
- Robert Orben

Inside every older person is a younger person -
wondering what the hell happened.
- Cora Harvey Armstrong

Getting old ain't for sissies.
- Bette Davis

Of late I appear
To have reached that stage
When people who look old
Who are only my age.
- Richard Armour

When I was younger, I could remember anything, whether it happened or not.
- Mark Twain

A diplomat is a man who always remembers a woman's
birthday but never remembers her age.
- Robert Frost

You are only young once, but you can be immature for a lifetime.
- John P. Grier

If I'd known I was going to live this long (100 years),
I'd have taken better care of myself.
- Ubie Blake

6 Tasty Foods We Wouldn't Have If I Had Been a Caveman Gatherer.

The diet is going swimmingly. 8 pounds down in about 3 weeks and adhering to the diet hasn't been as hard as I'd imagined. I did however realize that in depriving my body of many vices it made me binge drink a bit this weekend. My body and brain are in kahoots I tell you. Don't worry your pretty head though. I'll have them in line all communicating on the same page this week. This weekend was an extremely fun one probably due to the weather. I felt like I came out of some winter shell. 60 degrees oh how I've missed you. If I kill Punxsutawney Phil he can't speak right? I met some new faces saw some old faces. My goal was to just relax and hedonistically enjoy life. Even Siddhartha would've been forced to enjoy himself. Besides a massive hang-over from the 6th circle of Hades it was epic. So there's my update. Now onto the show.

1. Artichoke Hart

Benefits: Strengthens liver function, aids digestion, reduces cholesterol, tasty in an omelet or on a pesto pizza.

Why it's gross?: When my sister Kathy used to eat these after she was pregnant with her last child all I could see was a slimy-looking object in the package. She would offer me one and I wanted to toss my cookies especially since it said "Hearts" in the title. I thought these came from the chest of creature who looked like a hyrid of reptile and the Predator.

2. Pomegranate

Benefits: Full of antioxidants, full of vitamin C, the edible seeds are full of fiber, lots of potassium and polyphenols. Tasty in teas, juices and smoothies.

Why it's gross: Fruit should NEVER look as though it is bleeding and molding at the same time. The first time my old roommate James cut into one of these I had to ask him if it was a fruit cause it looked like he had just slaughter, yet again, the heart of some animal.

3. Mushrooms

Benefits: Help reduce cholesterol, reduces risks of certain cancers, increases immunity, tasty in salads, sauteed, on pizzas.

Why it's gross: Everytime I eat these fresh I swear there is still a clumb a dirt on them that I somehow miss during my thorough cleansing. Skipping past the fact that it resembles yet another human body part,(Atleast at this point we can correctly assume i'm not a cannibal) they just look plain dirty and gross.

4. Olives

Benefits: The oil from olives is great for the heart and cholesterol. Also provides polyphenols. Delicious from on or in foods or straight from the jar.

Why they're gross? : 2 words. Alien eyeballs.

5. Durian

Benefits: High in Potassium, vitamin C and tryptophan. Also the estrogens of this plant may increase furtility.

Why it's gross: Simply put, it looks like an effing porcupine. Apparently it smells really pungent as well.

6. (Last but not least) Fiddlehead Fern

Benefits: Fiber, essential vitamins and minerals, blah-blah. Who cares right?! This literally looks like a vat of fear factor spaghetti. Oh and get this, you can get food poisoning if this vege isn't cooked properly. You could tell me it also sucks fat right off your body and this gal wouldn't touch the stuff.

Sweet dreams,

Cherie Bobomb

Sliding Doors

My life's dvd of pivotal moments must have debris on its backside. If only I knew a way to clean it.

I keep replaying that night that we were watching movies on my couch in my head. I hadn't killed you with my cooking and the movie had hilarious moments where even though I'd seen it several times before your boisterous laugh contagiously pulled me in.

I don't know if you even remember or maybe it's just my mental remote stuck on pause or it needs new batteries as well but there was a moment when my right foot and your left leg touched.

My arms were wrapped around yours for warmth and my head was cradled perfectly on your shoulder. We stayed like this trapped on Couch Vesuvius well into the morning. It was close to perfect.

Thought-provoking subject matter was under discussion and presented. You were reciting free-flow of thoughts with the exact excitement and arduous extraction of a Forty-niner pulling out shiny self-realization nuggets. Not even James Marshall could deny the value. While you were anxious and talkative I was being lulled to sleep. Your monotone words, not to be mistaken for boring, sneaked into my ear and danced a soothing ballet of poetry. Like a disk jockey, your words were mixed with careful intermissions of short breathes, producing "Cheriebobomb's Somber Sleep Mix 2010". Not currently sold in stores but available for 2 easy payments of $19.99 if you call in the next ten minutes.

There was a brief, reflective possibly contemplative moment of silence.

I too had a hideen agenda.

I briefly turned my head and looked directly into the side of your eyeball.

I had an immediate, intense urge to kiss you.

However I was afraid the music would stop.

I was afraid it would be an unwelcome advance and everything would've been made too complicated.

Without having an inkling to date anyone in over a year I was just afraid. Period.

My butterflies were dancing and they in turn had house flys in their intestines who were jumping on a trampoline and even still they had even smaller gnats setting off bottle rockets in their bellies.

So instead I carefully wiped away a stray lash from your face.

Was this my Pompei?

The unknowing is the worst part.

Is the Fridge Half-Empty or Half-Full?

Okay folks, first of all you know you're thirty when all you have in your fridge is left over alcohol from the holidays.

I think this was against the law of the 20s.

So I have de-carbed by house now. For all of you who know me well you know I have been hitting the gym hard however you must be mindful of WHAT you put in your body as well.

I set up a meal plan today and got it approved by my trainer friend.

Breakfast:

Protein Smoothie

(1 &1/2 cups of fruit: Blackberries, raspberries, blueberries, banana and a scoop of protein powder. 1 cup of 1% milk).

Midday snack:

2 egg omelet with jalapeno and perhaps a slice of cheese)

2 slices of turkey bacon

Lunch:

Green salad with chicken breast or tuna.

I'm going to add tomatoes and mushrooms.

String cheese

Snack:

1/4 cup of almonds (no salt)

celery

Maybe an apple

Dinner:

Steak/chicken/fish/turkey burger and a fresh/frozen veggie.

On this low carb diet my trainer said to not buy anything over 2 carbs per serving. He said to avoid strawberries, apples, carrots, honey, milk (but I'm cheating in that) and a few other things.

That wasn't too difficult since I already knew the foods I wanted to buy however soy anything besides Morningstar link sausage is out of that category. I did buy apples because I love them.

I did sneak a loaf of wheat bread into my cart and some wheat tortilla's for when I need to make one of my special pizzas. I purchased some fatty hot chicken wings for when I need a fattening snack but even that has no carbs.

So we'll see how this goes.

I think this plan is actually a lot healthier than I usually eat and I think bumping up the animal protein will be good for me. Sorry vege-friends. As you can see above I really won't be starving.

Well, I've kept 4 pounds off 76 to go.

Two weeks and I already sleep better and I can feel my calves and thigh muscle mass increasing. This weekend I'll be focusing on the abs. Wish me luck.

The Lost by Dorianne Laux

We all called him Chris, but the night I first slept with him

he decided to insist on Christopher. I was the first

to call him, always, by his given name.

He was just one of those back-then boys, one of many

I was determined to possess with that swift, wistful

delirium of the casual romantic. Transient sweetness.

You could say I loved him, the way I loved every boy

I ever slept with, loved them just for being alive,

for being so different from me, for having beards

they shaved so carefully, the blade gliding over

the Adam's apple as it climbed high in their throats,

telling me where to find a cigarette or pair of socks.

I loved that they had their own private thoughts, thick

blue veins in their necks and cocks, branching veins

I traced up the backs of their calves, their hands

when they hung at their sides. I loved the delicate smells

that rose from the crotches of their jeans,

their crumpled T-shirts. I cherished the nipple-like moles,

the star and moon-shaped scars. I loved how they came,

quick and hard or slow as a sax solo, rolling away

with a moan, and later how they lingered in the shower,

capturing the water in one hand and splashing it

under an arm. I adored their husky voices and the stories

they told in short bursts or all-night long installments:

The brother and the bird story. The mother's breast

and the cancer story. I treasured their perfection,

the peach-riven seam that traveled

from the base of their skulls down their long

freckled backs, then disappeared in the darkness,

that when separated, became the morning light

between their legs. I was amazed

by the sheer variety of them, their velocity and vanity,

like carved statues in the rose garden

near the history museam. I studied

the infinite details of difference,

the initimate gesture, the prideful stance.

So when Christopher's boss called me

instead of his twin brother or the mother

who had made him, I was surprised

how simply I got in my car and drove

through traffic like a factory wife,

walked the maze of white hallways

until I found him, and as if i would love him

my whole life, sat without words and held

his unbandaged hand. And I was the one

who returned again to help him begin

to believe it, to unwrap the yellowed gauze,

hold his wrist and look straight at it, then dip

the torn stumps of his fingers into the whirlpool bath,

the saline smell tising like the beginning of a world.

I was surprised by his eyes, each b;ack lash damp, the lids

swollen and open, trusting I could beat the damage.

I saw how he was made of flesh and blood and how

I had to do it. He made me believe I was the only one

who could, the last to have touched him whole.

2011 or an Apology of Sorts.

So 2011, I don't expect a lot from you this year but I am assured it will be a smashing success. I am excited with all the new lives soon to be born into my family. I am ecstatic with all the possibilities that encompass you.
2011, I have some questions for you. Where will I find the great love of this year? Will they be singing a karaoke song, perusing a book I like at the library or will deep conversation begin over scattered, covered hash browns at the local Waffle House?
Will I travel abroad? Will I make it to Portugal and Italy and listen to foreign chatter as I "sit on a park bench that's older than my country"? Will I fall head over toes in love with an Italian man in which our incompatibly is lost in translation and behind a wine bottle.
Will I become more self-aware and less selfish? Will I continue to act in a childish manner when I fear I will be hurt. Will I ever reach a point where the risk  of greater gain outweighs the fear or feeling foolish?
I guess all things will be revealed in due time, 2011.

I've recently been doing some soul searching. I've been trying to clear some cobwebs out of my head and remove some old, tightly packed luggage I've been hauling around in my brain. I've come to this conclusion that hundreds of scientists have known for years : Kids absorb a lot of information and we learn to mimic the actions and coping mechanisms of our parental units. I recently re-enacted a preconditioned scenario that has humbled myself.

When I was a child I had to be perfect. HAD to be PERFECT. Growing up with an adoptive parents who were unable to provide a nurturing environment I had to train myself to tip-toe through my house of egg shells making straight As to survive. One was an alcoholic who would one minute be loving and the next minute erupt into a hell-storm of destroying any object or person in his way. The other was an abused spouse who willingly fell and fed into this turmoil. In all the children I grew up with in order or age decent I was the least physically harmed in the chaos. The oldest was called "Ugmo" I think because she wasn't the prettiest. The prettiest was called stupid because she was dyslexic. It was a hotbed of competitive tension and manipulation. With the two people who are supposed to provide an example of loving teamwork and life skills, having a firm supporting ground to launch from there was always a demand to take sides and try to figure out who was right in everyday squabbles. So is the person who hit the other in the face worse that the one who through all the furniture? Or maybe the person who launched a long line of profanity was the most out of line? How I didn't turn out completely psychotic is unbeknownst to me. I did a lot of ignoring. Like in Fight Club I may have went to a place far deep in my imagination to find my power-animal-penguin and there I also hid my sanity.
All that being said, here I am 30 and I have probably destroyed something possibly good in my life. I don't mean to do these things but there is a part of my brain that wants to control things by playing games, being mean and just damn-right destructive. I learned from my childhood how to size a person up, find their weaknesses in just a matter of minutes and then at anytime without any regard pull that Jenga piece out of their psyche and watch them collapse. I thought I had moved past this. I hadn't noticed a pattern until this year. Sadly, the more I care about a person the harder I'll make them fall. It's a tooth for a tooth principle I do not want in my life any further. I rarely discuss the internal part of my life as I like ignoring the negative however admittance is the first step.
To leave this blog on a positive note, 2011, I want to have healthy relationships in which I can share the boundless love I am fully capable of. I want to be open to getting hurt and not lashing back when I feel pain. I want to keep my efforts as constructive as possible. I want to be a positive influence on others. I want complete control of my negative actions and yet to hold onto my ability to get lost in the idea of  what if. This is my New Years resolution and promise. To anyone I've hurt I am eternally sorry. I always so I'm awesome, not perfect.
Here's to another great year. May we all find piece of mind. May we all carry forward the fond memories of 2010 and discard any negativity. Sweet dreams.