Anouchka Talks

Last weekend, Habibi and I went to another couple’s house to watch the football game.  While there, the discussion of “First World Problems” came up.  The best example of a First World Problem (in my opinion) that our friends shared with us was this: It’s too warm out for a hot latte, but it’s too cold for an iced one. Naturally, this set me to giggling.  Here are a few other FWPs that I have come across this past week: I can’t keep up with all of the Anderson Cooper jokes because I’m at work. My McDonald’s order doesn’t have any Monopoly pieces. I listened to Phil Collin's "In The Air Tonight" on Youtube and it stopped to buffer right when the drums came in. I accidentally took my iPod touch to work today instead of my iPhone. I took a new job with way better pay, but here I have to manually turn on the bathroom faucet like a plumber. I have the same name as a famous magician, and people won't stop asking me to do magic tricks.

I got some bad news today:   my gym is cutting my Thursday morning kickboxing class.   BOOOOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!! Seriously, I am so bummed!   This is the only class that I have been able to attend faithfully (whereas others are sometimes hit or miss) for the past YEAR!   The instructor even knows my name!   Yet just like that, they pull it out from under my feet to replace it with yet another cycling class.   (Is there no justice in the world?)   I call those “Pain in the Ass Class” because that is literally what it is.   I actually had a lady -who was NOT the instructor- come up to me once at the end of a cycling class and lecture me on why my bike wasn’t set up properly.   I wanted to tell her that my seat was set low because I didn’t want to get an enema, but shoot, what did I know?   I’m just a kickboxer. Please excuse me while I go scratch my bug bites from Tuesday night. OK, I’m back.   Now where was I?   Oh yes… Come on!   Why do we need anoth

Who would like to explain to me how I got eight bug bites last night without even realizing it?  It is fall and bugs are supposed to be dying.  Also, please remind me to clean the battery acid out of my camera.  We're going camping this weekend for our two year anniversary (!) and I want to take pictures!!!!!!! In other (slightly more relevant, but not really) news, today marks the beginning of Harvest Day at my farm (a.k.a. the pots on my balcony).  My kitchen is a disaster at present because, what a surprise, I felt the urge to (1) pause the apple dehydration process and begin dehydrating herbs (2) make Irish potato soup from scratch (3) bake a loaf of banana bread from scratch.   Why oh why did I think it was necessary to do all three of these things simultaneously in my tiny, galley kitchen?????   I guess when the Spirit moves you, there ain't no stoppin'! Oddly enough, this was one of my smoother kitchen ambitions.  I'm a good cook (thanks, Mom!), but one can

I have an addiction.  I am not an alcoholic, a gamer nor even a compulsive shopper.  My great demise can be found in the Target pharmacy section or in specialty stores. No, you freak!  I'm not into prescription or even over the counter drugs!  Narcotics are for amateurs!  I, my dearest friends, am addicted to hair products.  Correction:   expensive  hair products. Sadly for me, this poses a bit of a problem as Habibi and I are not exactly what you might call "well off."  We are, indeed, very blessed to be able to maintain a comfortable living while sharing our means with others, but you might call us "lower" middle class.  If we were on the Titanic, we'd be just on the cusp of being locked in the basement of the sinking ship.  (However, this would not bother me entirely because I might be too busy naming and making friends with the rats.)  Anyway, my point is that it is hard to get your "fix" when you are on a budget.  Only the rich can afford

I think I just picked a booger off my desk. I am not embarrassed to say this because I don’t think it was mine.  You see, I called in sick yesterday ( legitimately as I’m not always dishonest) and my desk is a popular place for people to get nosey.  Yeah.  It’s annoying, especially since I’m not totally better yet. I was tempted to call in sick again today, but after running 4.8 miles this morning (yay me!), I couldn’t justify it.  If I could do that then surely, I could sit at a desk for a few hours.  Yet I assure you, the latter is far more painful.  As a result, I am crabby, tired and generally pissed off.  I know it’s my own fault that I’m so negative, but as I poured hot coffee in my to go cup this morning, I suddenly felt the urge to throw it on the little Indian boy who lives downstairs as he threw his routine morning tantrum.  (For some reason, his favorite place to sit and scream bloody murder is right outside my door.)  As I breathed in the pleasant and incoher

Yesterday afternoon, I had the privilege of seeing two college girls get baptized.  I would be lying if I said I felt any differently after witnessing all this, but this my feelings certainly don’t make this event any less miraculous.  Despite my lack of emotion, this event was not wasted on me as it caused me to stumble onto something quite profound. Shortly after these two girls made their decisions, an inflatable pool was filled up with the icy cold water of a garden hose.  Because the stage was set, the minister who did the baptizing asked if there was anyone else who wanted to be baptized at that time.  In the pause that followed this proposition, I overheard another student whisper facetiously to a friend that he wanted to cannonball into the pool.  Without giving much thought to this comment, I snickered under my breath at the often childish antics of college boys.  Later on, however, I would give that statement a little more thought.  Many people question the relevanc

Well, first things first:  I shan't make you wait a moment longer -in suspense, of course- to hear about my weekend. It was one of those weekends where you just seem to keep striking out.  I won't bore you with the details of all of it, but please, indulge me on this one teensy weensy thing:  snacks at the football game.  If you have read my most recent post, you will know that I was ecstatic to eat my heart out (literally) at the football game I attended this weekend.  Sports hold no interest for me, but that is simply not the case when it comes to the array of over-priced goodies available to the drooling masses.  Allow me to expand on this. Once again, I tore myself out of bed at the butt crack of dawn on a Saturday morning.   Why , you ask?  Well, to go running, of course!  You see, it was especially important that I run this past Saturday morning as my planned consumption rate would reach vomit-inducing levels for the subsequent afternoon/evening.  At the end of each w

Today on my morning run, I happened to be following the same route as the garbage truck.  It was sort of awkward, the way we kept lapping each other, but it was a race -I will have you know- that I won.  Further proof that all things follow the path of the Beam (right, Habibi?). Anyway, when I run, I try to clear my head, talk to God or just consider my life.  However, my mind always comes back to the same thing:  food.  As I was thinking about what to eat later today, my mind wandered into tomorrow and the anticipation of sports arena junk.  You see, tomorrow Habibi (my nickname for my husband, it means "my sweetheart/honey/darling" in Arabic) and I are going to a college football game at my alma mater.  While many of you know that I don't particularly care for sports, I have a great affection for the treasures to be found on the concourse.  In fact, it is not unusual that I will spend seven innings of a baseball game, wandering around, eyeballing the Dippin' Dots

I just got home from having a great coffee date with a great friend. For those of you who know me personally, you will recall that I am somewhat awkward socially.  A few weeks back, my friend and I decided we wanted to meet for coffee at a local chocolaterie .  (We both lived/studied in France and anything with a European flair makes us nostalgic.)  Now, this may be news to her if she is reading this post, but my first awkward moment was when she walked in the door.   Do I get up and give her a hug since I haven't seen her in nearly two years?   (A normally functioning person would have done so.)   Do I give her a high five?   ( Not  what higher thinkers typically do.)   What????   (Yes, these are the things that plague my brilliant mind.)  Fortunately, she was graceful enough to have seemingly overlooked my stiff greeting and we were able to begin reminiscing. After a wonderful and uplifting chat about France, running, gossiping about mutual acquaintances and joking about my i

Vocab. used in this lesson French Pronunciation English Aujourd’hui Oh zhoor dwee Today Mademoiselle Mahd mwa zell Miss Monsieur Missyuh Mr./Sir Madame Mah dahm Mrs./Ma’am Grammaire In most languages (other than English, of course), there is a formal way and an informal way to address people.  For instance, when speaking to a boss, teacher, doctor, stranger, or even another adult whom you don’t know very well, you would use the formal version of “you.”  If you were addressing a friend, relative, child, pet or someone with whom you have already established this type of relationship, you would likely use the informal version of “you.” In French, there is a definite distinction between the two.  When speaking formally, we use the word “vous” (voo); informally, we use the “tu” (tew) form.  Par exemple: Formal:  Bonjour, Mademoiselle Rigaud.  Comment allez- vous aujourd’h

So, I have a few things on my mind today, but they’re good things, so don’t be afraid of the title of this post.   I’m not going to bore you with politics, I promise.   No, today you should be concerned with far more important things…like my hair. Most music on the radio these days sounds the same to me.   Of course there are exceptions, but it is largely for this reason that I listen to a lot of NPR.   However, last week, the morning after Obama’s big speech (what was that about again?) I decided that I couldn’t listen to the “after party” of all the big political hoopla.   I had had enough of listening to Obama promise this and that, of comments about Bachmann’s eyeballs, and of the general behavior of our representatives in Washington.   I felt like a bad American (not really), but I really didn’t care what they had to say.   Solution?   Christmas music, of course! Today, I felt much the same as I drove the 20 minutes or so it takes me to get to work.   So, like last week, I po

Good morning and happy Tuesday!  Tuesdays are my favorite day of the week (other than Friday, of course) because Tuesdays are DATE NIGHT with my hubby.   (Je t'aime, habibi!)   I am typically chipper on Tuesdays because I get excited about our outings or even about staying in.  This is one day when I am particularly happy to be married.  Today, however, I had an added bonus to make me relieved to be off the market... Once again, I was out for my usual morning torture (run).  I was enjoying the brisk morning, the cool breeze in my (disgustingly) sweaty face and the absence of thought as I listened to my feet on the pavement.  I was feeling extra joyful because my underoos weren't even riding today!  HUZZAH!  Alas, this serenity could not last forever. Ladies, how often do you experience the honking horns and loud comments when you run?  I am disappointed to say that this is not a first-time experience for me.  I must admit that the first time, I wondered if I had violated so

Part 1 I eat a lot of plant-based foods:  fruits, veggies, almond milk, BREAD, etc.  Because I tend to lean more towards these things than the typical American might, people often ask me if I am a vegetarian.  To that, I have but one response:  Yes.  But I'm not very good at it. About four or five years ago, I read an excellent (but gruesome) publication about the mistreatment of animals in the meat-packing industry.  In a valiant attempt to engage in more responsible consumer practices, I threw out everything containing meat in my apartment:  all meat, chicken broth, tuna, hot dogs, you name it.  Even though the flyer I had just read warned against trying to go cold turkey (no pun intended) on eliminating meat from your diet, I was determined that I could never put something's dead corpse into my mouth again.  It was cute how hard I tried. Although my attempt at becoming an instant vegetarian lasted longer than I may have thought (primarily because I was a poor college s

During the week, I try to moderate my calorie intake and balance it with calories burned.  It has proven a healthy system for me thus far and I've actually been rather content with it.  Unfortunately, the only reason I believe it has seemed to work rather well is that I allow myself to splurge a little on the weekends. Today began as a good day for healthy eating, exercise and general productivity.  I was up just before 6:30 on a Saturday (!), out running by a little before 7, all cleaned up and back home from running a few errands, picking up an order from the tailor and doing the grocery shopping for the week by 12:30.  My dear friends, you would have been so proud of me!  In a rare moment of reason, I purchased some sensible dessert items to satisfy my sweet tooth; animal crackers and graham crackers are much healthier options than cookies and candy.   N'est-ce pas?  What's more is that once I returned home, I even found time to write a few birthday and anniversary ca

Vocabulaire The symbol   (n)  will represent the very nasal, almost unpronounced French sound. To achieve this sound (or something resembling it), say  ing   (as in “sing”). Draw out the  ng  sound, but do not pronounce the “g.” French Pronunciation English Bonjour! Boh(n)-zhoor Hello! / Good morning! Salut! Sah-loo Hi! / Bye! (like “aloha,” informal) Comment allez-vous? Cohmoh(n) tallay voo How are you? (formal) Je vais: bien/mal/comme ci comme ça. Zhuh vay: bie(n)/mahl/come see comme sah I'm doing: well/badly/so-so Comment vas-tu? Cohmoh(n) vah too How are you? (informal) Ça va? Sah vah How are you? How's it going? (informal) Je vais/Ça va: bien/mal/comme ci comme ça. Zhuh vay/Sah vah: bie(n)/mahl/come see comme sah I'm doing/It's going (informal): well/badly/so-so. Et vous? Ay voo And

In the same way that I was right about bloggers being self-involved, I was also right about one other thing:  All runners are masochists. In my journey of self-discovery (a pretty way to say "my quarter-life crisis"), I got addicted to working out.  Now, I have never been a traditional athlete by ANY stretch of the imagination (unless you call running away from the ball a sport), but I have always been active.  One thing I swore up and down that I would  never  be able to get into was running.  Here I am, in my mid-twenties, signing up for local races.  What happened? First, there was walking around my neighborhood in a leisurely way.  Strolling became brisk walking until last fall when my husband and I joined a gym.  As it began to get colder outside, I opted for the treadmill at the gym over my walks outside.  Treadmills led to Zumba and consequently to kickboxing, vigorous elliptical workouts, Turbo Kick and eventually to running.  I had no idea as I was doing all of the

I used to think that the only people who wrote blogs were egocentric, self-involved prats.  Now that I know I was right, here I am...blogging. All sarcasm aside, however, I am beside myself with excitement to start a blog of my very own.  Maybe it's just the novelty of something new that will wear off in a week.  Perhaps I'm just late to jump on the bandwagon, but I don't particularly care.  Truth be told, I am creating this for no one other than myself, but I would be delighted and honored to have the pleasure of your company as I make this journey into self-expression (and some other pretentious catch phrase). With that said, I welcome you to my innermost workings!  This is a site dedicated to the art of free association and random thought! (I call it an "art" because that makes it sound like it isn't an annoying habit.)  Sure, there will be a few things that might make sense along the way (discussions of favorite books, workout routines, Malbec vs. Cabe