I’ve been spending a bit of more time in the kitchen these days. I wouldn’t necessarily call it “cooking,” perhaps “prepping” is more accurate? Regardless, I give myself a pat on the back for effort. Ok, so I should also thank my buddy Joe (as in Trader Joe) for facilitating the inevitable, i.e. eating at home. You see, living in the ‘Teo ain’t nothing like living in SF. There’s not Zagat rating really. I mean, sure you find some gems here and there, but the stats certainly don’t work in your favor. So then it’s like, go out and risk it with hit/miss trial and error or aim for the surer bet at home. Despite my reliance on frozen foods and some processed foods (hey, I gotta start SOMEwhere), I still think eating at home is healthier. I know I get brownie points for rice, fresh veggies, and salad! So usually, the main entree is where Joe helps me out: pre-seasoned pot roast or frozen breaded chicken fingers or frozen scallops. But you know, the stuff tasts pretty damn good. I mean, definitely better than the dining out flunkies. And sometimes, I do actually go fresh– John buys steaks from Costco (who wants to join my Costco co-op?), I’ll get free-range chicken breasts. Yeah, my struggle with vegetarianism has ended. Unfortunately, I don’t think I’m going back, especially if I’m going to be prepping the meals for both John and me. Free-range is the current compromise. But damn, handling those raw steaks… I still get a little grossed out. And I always apologize to the cow.

So not to brag or anything, but I think we’re doing pretty well on our latest health kick. Granted, I haven’t returned to the gym (Gold’s Gym is just too intimidating), but I’ve been walking the dogs every morning– taking them on a long, brisk powerwalk. I know, it’s not the same as cardio and I’ve put on a couple pounds to prove it (boo!) but for now, I’m ok with it. And the doggies love it.

Yesterday was so hot that Marty, for the first time ever, plopped himself in a puddle. He was so cute. Normally, he’s deathly scared of the water. I don’t know what it is– he gets all skittish, especially when little waves come up a beach or when water spurts out intermittently from a fountain. Bizarro. Remy, on the other hand, loves the water. It takes her a while to plunge in completely, but once she’s in, she loves it (even though she can’t swim worth crap– she constantly chokes and gulps down water). My little angels.

From 2005.08.10