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Week Enders | 11March17

Well, that happened…
Last week, I wrote about needing to find ways to more deeply connect to my body.  To feel and deal better with frustration and anxiety.  Well, I started somewhere.  Breathed a little heavy.  I looked for workouts on YouTube and started living the Nike+ Training app life.  I took the stairs at work.  Mostly down only, but, still, that is, again, a start.  I’ve been doing the wander, too.  I’ve been thinking about new routes in the hood and I’m working on wander playlists.  Glad I started somewhere.  I just need to keep going.  Is it weird to want to do a push up?

Wait, it was there all along?
I resisted some serious pull last week.  Glossier launched blushes.  Wayne Goss released an updated makeup brush set.  Sephora was even tempting folks with La Mer deluxe samples.  I didn’t buy any of it.  Not saying something GossyGlossi won’t come my way in the future, just not near.  I think my discipline was rewarded.  I randomly used the Tom Ford Cream and Powder Eye Color in Golden Peach from last year’s Soleil Summer Collection that was just sitting in the shadow drawer.  Ummm… Hello, Pretty.  So, so sorry you’ve been ignored.  That won’t happen again.  It’s still available and there are new shadow shades for 2017 that I won’t be getting, because Naked Bronze and Golden Peach are already owned and everything.   https://www.beautylish.com/s/tom-ford-beauty-cream-and-powder-eye-color-golden-peach

Logan.
So damn good.  A tear might have even fallen.  Is it wrong to want to climb the bad guys to kick their friends in the face?  If you’re a Marvel fan or long for a superhero film worthy of all the exclamation points, go see Logan while it’s on the biggest of screens.  See buffed Hugh Jackman in a tee as a Wolverine for the last time.  If you want a film full of action and a well-told story, but can’t make it to the theater, definitely get it on demand.  If catching it on cable is more your speed, it will be worth every minute spent.

This Really Is Us
I don’t understand how you guys do it.  How can you sit down and watch this every week?  I want to call the show emotionally manipulative trash, but This Is Us is just great TV.  It’s messy and life-y, all love and loss. Complicated and so normal.  Well-written and acted.  And I can’t handle it.  I have to watch in mini binges.  It’s easier to cry 2 out of 4 hours, than to know every single week, I could have my heart broken.  I caught up to the Memphis episode last weekend and was a mess.  Well, except for when I said Paper Boi five times after seeing Brian Tyree Henry.  I don’t know why I thought I had recovered enough to watch this week’s episode in real-ish time, breaking from my emotionally-supportive pattern.  Seriously, they had those beautiful little girls put their tiny hands in my chest and rip my heart to shreds.  Even, the mailman had me fucked up.  Ugh.

For the record and later discussion: Susan Kelechi Watson as Beth is the new Claire Huxtable.

All the cool kids are in Austin.
SXSW started. The music kicks off later in the week.  NPR has a preview mix.  Spotify has a SXSW Latino playlist of bands that will be at the festival.  And The Fader will be streaming live from The Fader Fort.

This weekend, I might be:
+ washing my hair.
+ doing an african dance workout.
+ wandering.

What are you up to?

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week enders | 3march17

Well, that happened…
Bill Paxton died way too fucking soon.   Moonlight won Best MOTHERFUCKING Picture!   And I was longing for Friday on Sunday afternoon.  That’s not a good way to live.

Nothing to see here.
I’m not buying anything.  Really.  I’m taking inventory.  I don’t even know what I have.  Until I do, I’m not buying anything I don’t need.

If I feel the urge, I’ll shop the stash.  I remember the Christmas that I took a dictionary from my brother’s room, wrapped it and gave it to myself.  I can get joy from things I already own.  And yes, the last sentence doesn’t really work, having read the sentence that preceded it.  You’d just have to be LittleMe or have questionable boundaries, which may actually be the same thing.

I’ve had a shitty week.  Work sucks.  The world sucks.  And I’m not handling it well.

Nothing’s working.

“Bad” food doesn’t taste good enough.  It can’t cause heartburn and be disappointing.
The spending high doesn’t last.  I just have more stuff and nowhere to put it.
The wine isn’t working.  The bottle is empty, the calories count and I’m not all that tipsy.
I’m not seeing anyone.  So, the intimacy intramurals are cancelled.
I don’t need a weed habit, legal or kinda.

I need figure my way out of this.  I need ways to get through the anxiety and frustration.

I know connecting deeply with my body will help.

First inclination, though, is to spend!  Join a gym.  Buy new outfits.  Buy weights and other exercise-y things.

Guess what.  I have things.  I’ve got mats and weights and balls.  At home.  What I really need, is to be active.  I need to do things.  I need to swim and wander and breathe and sweat.  A lot.  Every day.

So that I don’t get caught up in the planning of, instead of the actual doing of,  I’m just going to start somewhere.  Then, see how it goes.

These Three: 
Moonlight.  The script.  The greatness, is on the page.
I saw Get Out.  It’s WILD.  Def more thriller than horror.  See it.
Prepping for more posts.  Not sure if beauty or food will be first.  What would you like to see?

Rufus&Clem Week Enders Playlist on Spotify
Putting together some mood music for the resistance.  Be it to hold joy or for relative calm or just a soundtrack to badass-ery.


This weekend, I might be:
+ going to see Moonlight with a friend who’s been out of the country. He’s excused from the sideeye. I got the note from his mom.
+ going to the beach.  I want to hear the waves.
+ looking for music to share.

What are you up to?

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Home From The Market | 7th at Fig 13Oct11

just a few things that made it home from the market…

Strawberries | Tomatoes | Pita | Hummus

The hummus didn’t make it home.  It wasn’t even good, but I was hungry.  All tahini-heavy without any garlic bite or acid kick, I should have just had fries or a(nother) pint of strawberries.  I have to stop spending money (♥: and time and energy) on things that I know probably won’t make me happy.  It’s like I keep taking the class, but have trouble implementing the lesson.  It’s time to be more mindful about planning ahead, especially since I prefer my own chickpea dip/spread.

Making the commitment to treat myself better emotionally, physically, intellectually and spiritually means that I have to pay much more attention to how I get fed and how I stay happy.

n♥

 

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LAPL at Home | The Inevitable

i’ve got 29 books and 1 doc out on loan.  these are just a few of the books i’ve got at home.

This is obvious, isn’t it?  All the time I’ve spent at the farmers’ markets in the last year and a half falling in love with fruit after fruit and veg after veg.  Well, that and the thing with the chickens* and, um, getting weirded out about the pork fat in the freezer.

I’ve been moving in this direction.  Making a transition to a place I’ve been before, but I feel like I’m better informed this time around with plenty of resources at my fingertips.  I’m, also, able to give a shrug to some veg and vegan cookbooks, not feeling beholden to them just because.

Starting to dig in to the stack above.  The Asian Vegan Kitchen and The Tropical Vegan Kitchen are really giving me life right now.  You should see how excited I am flipping through The Tropical Vegan Kitchen and seeing my childhood on page after page.

N♥

Chicken: Exhibit A & B

 

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OverLooked | My Hair & I♥Mario Badescu, HARDCORE

the things i’ve been looking the hardest for have been right under my nose at home.

I can’t believe that my new favorite conditioner has been in my house unused for ages.  Seriously.  It was a part of a gift set I was sent when I got nostalgic for my NYC skin care routine.  And it just sat there, on the shelf, in the medicine cabinet.

I stopped relaxing my hair six years ago and if I wasn’t into the whole “doing my hair” thing before, I like it less now.  I don’t hate my hair.  I love it.  Lots.  I feel my family in its textures and I see my mother in the most random of styles.  It’s just that the one thing I’ve hated since I could remember someone combing my hair was someone/anyone combing my hair.  Tenderheaded and full of tangles since birth, probably.

The whole washing and combing it out thing is the most stressful part of a four hour pain in the ass.  No More Tangles definitely took some of the bite out of the process, but still.  The thought of so much time from shower to last last wisp flat-ironed always had me putting it off for another day, okay, weekend.

I am so digging what the Badescu has done.  There was no tug-of-war fought, no wasteland of battle weary strands woven among the comb’s teeth destined for their place in the bathroom trash, my sanity tossed in right after.  Nope.  My hair is cotton candy soft with just a smidge of coconut oil to nourish and maintain the shine.  Man, I can’t keep my hands out of my it.

I’m freakishly excited by this belated discovery.  So excited and giddy and happy, in fact, that I’m afraid to continue reading the list of ingredients for fear that it’s got something in it I shouldn’t be using.  Lanolin oil, does that mess with estrogen or cause cancer?  Wait, don’t tell me.  Let me empty that sample-sized bottle first.

N♥

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Evolution Of A Relationship | Cheese, Glorious Cheese

what i eat and how i see food changes…

gorgonzola | parmesan | sharp cheddar

Cheese constantly tests my will.  We’re so much better when we’re far, far apart.

I spent MLK weekend pet-sitting for P+K.  I consumed cheese and beer.  No, really.  I didn’t feel like dropping dough at Whole Foods because in a pinch my tastes tend toward a $6 pkg of capellini.  So, I played my version of Door Knock Dinners. (♥: Pls tell me you remember…)

It’s always interesting to see what someone else has in their pantry.  Things I normally wouldn’t or just can’t buy.   The cupboards seemed a bit bare this time around.  The freezer, though, that’s where I found myself.  Me and the Cheese.

I ended up eating Mac & Cheese from a box the first night and a risotto with black beans and turkey sausage, the next.  Everything Cheese.  Cheddar, Gorgonzola, Parm and more.  Cheese.

I hoped that when I got home, I could shake it.  I was sick.  Coughing from my toes.  Ridding myself of all types of things and still eating cheese.

Within days, I was at Trader Joes getting the Goat and shredded bits of Italy’s finest.  Pizza.  Four Cheese Ravioli with a tomato goat cheese sauce.

It’s funny that I’m fretting.  I know how to stop.  I worked it out a while ago.  But, there are times that going without makes me feel all deprived and brings back memories.  The ones growing up where we had Grape-Nuts and all that other not “fun” stuff.

How did I compensate for having another reason to feel different from everyone else?  Oh, I ate what we had.  All of it.  Colby, Wisconsin, New York & Vermont Cheddars, Havarti, Kraft Singles and Boursin when I could sneak it in the grocery cart.  Did I tell you about flying home from summer vacation one year with a 5lb block of Gov’t cheese? No? Yeah.

I’d eat warmed* cheese with a side of scrambled egg.  I’d nibble straight from the package or in chunks on stoned wheat thins.  Made grilled cheese sandwiches and cheesy grits with a splash of hot sauce.  My favorite cheesy rice turned into black beans and rice with sharp cheddar.  That morphed into my black bean and couscous dish.  There’s more, but I’m scaring myself.

I know me.  I know me and cheese.  I can make it work when I only bring home and cook with a few of those “help, I won’t make it to my next meal” snack packages.  Selection sucks, but I get the taste that I’m looking for without eating myself into another breakup.  But, I think we’ve gone past that this time.

So, yeah.  Cheese, sweetie.  We need to talk.

N♥

* I figured out one of those afternoons after school that I don’t really like eggs and used a lot of cheese to try to hide it.

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On The Make | Beaded

learning to move from idea to completion… using frustration to help, not hinder…

I have a bracelet my mother made me when I was a little girl.  It was the mini to her many.  When I went off to college, I could still hear her walking up the stairs calling my name, arm full of trade bead bracelets jangling.  Even though she doesn’t wear them anymore, it’s still her.  Bracelets on the left, red pen in her right hand.  Mommy.

I have two bracelets, actually.  The one that belongs to elementary me and the one that I wore when I finally stopped caring if something looked “African” and I started looking different on purpose.  I haven’t worn it in ages.  A bead broke and there’s a link that comes undone.  I’ve been too, let’s call it distracted, to fix it.

I’ve been thinking about making jewelry, again.  It started a few months ago.  Thinking about things that would really work for me.  I’ve made stuff and worn it.  It’s all been fine, but I was never able to really get past the kinda *pursedlipsshrug* like to hardcore ♥.  I’ve been almost there, but never there there.

The thing is I hadn’t figured out what I wanted.  Um, done.  It’s like if Tom Binns hung out with Les Nubian in ’03, ate potato rotis in DC from West Indian carryouts and dreamed of Mississippi juke joints while cleaning houses in the Chicago suburbs in gear made by Rei, Yoji, Rick and the Belgians.  Oh, and with home movies and family photos taken by Andrew Dosunmu.

Yeah, that’s a lot.  And so am I.  I need to embrace it.

So, I’ve been playing with the idea of doing something with trade beads.  Just something simple.  When I was home last month, Mom offered some up.  A lot, really.  And they just came in the post. I’m so excited.  I want to make pieces that will build on what she gave me.  Build on my memories.

While I’m doing design research and sourcing materials for something new, I’m going to fix the link on my bracelet and probably replace that missing bead.

Starting somewhere.

N♥

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HFTM | Pershing SQ 28Oct10

just a few things that made it home from the market… ages ago

So it’s kinda been on and popping at the Farmers’ Markets here in LA.  Between challenges to the size of the Hollywood Farmers’ Market by another local business and vendors at other markets accused of selling not so local or organic as claimed, the value and authenticity of the markets and their produce has come up for debate.

Me, I’m still in.  What started earlier this year as just something to do has become something I, just, do.  Even at the CubeFarm, people would come up to me and talk about market day.  My weekly bounty would be on display in the afternoon as I watched minutes on the clock and strawberries disappear.

But, I haven’t been to Pershing Sq since the end of October.  With the Ice Rink up and my time at the CubeFarm winding down, I’ve been glued to my desk and going to Hollywood on Sundays.

I’m so happy to be able to say that I’m SuperGrateful for the time I’ve spent going to Pershing SQ this year.  It’s been such an important experience in the evolution of my relationship with food.

Nikki♥

*One quick word about the CubeFarm. They really are a great group of people doing good work for the folks of LA Country.  So glad to have got the chance to spend more time with them this year.

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Project Polyglot | Beyond Adorable In Portuguese

we’ve talked about this, right? the whole fluent in multiple languages thing?…


//via@diggswayne

This is the cutest thing I’ve seen in a while.  It’s from Black Orpheus.  I, so, need to put it back on the netflix/library list now that I’m deep into Project Polyglot and seem to have forgotten the entire movie.

The adorable kids are great and all, but they aren’t what got me super happy.  When I watched the clip, ads blocked the subtitles.  At some point I realized that I knew what they were saying.  I got all excited and giggly.  Then, lost it just as fast.  I fell back into English and needed the text on the screen to make sense of everything.

Still don’t recognize or understand every word, even in a child’s convo, but I’ve definitely come along way from being frustrated by and afraid of one of the most beautiful languages on the planet.

Come on.  Press play and dance with me.

Nikki♥

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Oh, Just Go | Looking Back To Move Forward

something has kept me la-stuck and states-stuck… i’m trying to get all un-

waiting for the train back to paris
i so don't care that it's out of focus... i love them

Counting the days until I’m off.  The new passport is here.  The old one came back, too.  I’ve already started changing my seat on the flights.  Thinking about outfits and images.  Can you tell I’ve finally gotten excited?

This will be the first trip with the dslr.  I’m nervous.  I want to take in so much.  I was so timid and tentative when I was in France.  It was the first time shooting dig, I hadn’t read the manual and I didn’t want to look like a tourist.  Yeah, whatever.  It shows.  Over it.  Kinda.

I’m so glad to be able to have the immediacy of the dig.  Glad that I can work on getting better and learn more in the moment.  I doubt that I would have seen the growth from what I shot in Paris to what I’ve got from Montagnac if I hadn’t seen what was captured right away.  I’ve still got undeveloped rolls and disposable cameras with long gone photographs taken all over Europe.

I’m in prep mode now.  Feeding my shooter’s brain with images that captivate me and studying more about how to read and manipulate light.  I want to knowingly craft more photographs than have happy accidents.

I hadn’t looked at the stuff from France in a while.  I lost a lot in the Great Hard Drive Crash of ’06.  But, I notice so much from just these few old pictures.  So much of who I was and how I approached seeing and being seen.  I can’t wait to discover how much has changed and find out what’s left to conquer.

Nikki♥