Posts from — February 2010

photo by ulterior epicure
The box o’ chocolates is from Kee’s

I have a thing for chocolate. Let’s just say if you gave me a choice between never having dinner again and never having chocolate, I wouldn’t bat an eye before I grabbed a brownie and said, “I’ll never leave you.” It’s borderline sick.

I’ve dined at the chain restaurant Chili’s before and passed on a main course so I could fit more molten chocolate cake in my belly. (To be honest, it wasn’t a hard decision. If you’ve ever eaten at Chili’s you know their meals are usually too rubbery, too salty, too processed, or too stale—or all of the above.) But that microwaved mound of chocolatey sponge? The gooey chocolate insides? The giant scoop of vanilla ice cream to cool the warm cake? Heaven.

It reminds me of a Hallmark card I once read. The front had an illustration of a Cheesecake Factory-sized hunk of chocolate cake, and it said, “I ate a dessert called Death by Chocolate.” Flip to the inside, where the card continued: “But it didn’t kill me. It only made me stronger.”

That, friends, is how I feel.

Here’s where I insert news of a recent study that found an association between eating dark chocolate and having a lower risk of stroke and death after stroke. This is also the point where I tell you that the researchers only analyzed three studies, so the findings aren’t conclusive. Right here is the point where I wonder whether the researchers did this small study just so it would be published in time for Valentine’s Day?. No matter! Chocolate won’t kill you—I’ll make you stronger. And stroke-resistant. Just keep telling yourself that. I do.

[Read more →]

photo by ian bc north

Life as we know it is over. That’s what the two anchors on the news keep telling us at least. Ever since snow started falling on Friday afternoon, the poor newscasters assigned to Snowmaggedon coverage have been reporting ’round the clock. I don’t think they’ve even been home since Thursday night. Poor ladies.

Aside from staring out my window and snickering at the poor fools stuck in a snowbank across the street—I’m kidding!—I’ve been doing a whole lotta nothing. Which means I’ve cleaned a lot. The Man and I gave the bathroom a nice wipe down, which made my week because clean things make me happy. Like, really happy.

I made it to the gym between blizzards—when this weekend’s storm was winding down and before it started to snow on Tuesday. I even walked to the gym, a big deal for ol’ gimp here. And you know, I did pretty darn well:

[Read more →]

photo by thomas van ardenne

By the time my mother was my age, she had already birthed two children. Things happened a lot faster way back in the ’80s: marriage, first job, first home, first kid. Boom, boom, boom, boom.

Though I never set a deadline, everything seemed to move quickly for me after school. I met The Man (at 22), got a job right out of college (still 22), married pretty early (at 24), and … fizzled out. OK, so there was that whole housing bubble burst that made the entire real estate market all wet and sticky. That, and the fact that I’ve moved every year since 2004, meant home buying wasn’t for me.

And then there was the whole knees-are-kaput thing. I can’t hold my own body weight for more than a few minutes while standing. No way am I adding 20 or 30 pounds of baby to that.

Still, at 27 I’m considered young. Lost of women are waiting until their 30s—even 40s—to have children. Heck, on my side of the family I’m paving new territory just by being married. (On The Man’s side, however, we’re waaay behind. His two younger siblings have given us a total of three adorable nephews. Oh, and two more babies are on the way. So, yeah.)

But a new study suggests being an older mom comes with an added risk: autism.

[Read more →]

photo by dmitry_morozov

Let’s discuss support. No, I’m not talking about the kind that comes from a sports bra; that’s an important yet completely irrelevant topic right now.

What I want to chat about is the support you get from your spouse. University of Iowa researchers recently published results of a couple studies on how partners support one another in tough times. They found that both partners are happier if wives ask for support when they need it and if husbands receive the right type of support.

Let me start by saying that although the researchers looked at married folks, I think the results are applicable to unmarried couples as well. The first trial gave five surveys to more than 100 couples during the first five years of marriage. At the end of the study, the researchers learned that getting more support than you need causes more marital problems than not being there for your spouse.

To be honest, that doesn’t really make sense to me. But Lawrence and colleagues suggest that women can make up for a good-for-nothin’ man lack of spousal support by leaning on friends and family. And maybe swigging a martini or two. Just a guess. But the study says there’s no way to make up for too much support. (However, the authors didn’t note where in the world one finds a man who provides too much support. Perhaps that’s for a follow-up investigation.)

[Read more →]

photo from guilhembertholet
That’s my kinda doctor

When it comes to my health, I’m a chronic googler. And maybe a bit of a worry wart. OK, more than a bit.

The first time I got a migraine, google suggested I was having a stroke. It nearly gave me a heart attack. (Thanks a lot for that one.) My left nostril’s constantly stuffed up. When it gets really bad, I search Google for something my ENT and allergist have missed. Just in case. And then last week, I had a consultation after a freaky thing happened to me.

I was sitting at my desk, minding my own business when I felt a sting and a deep throb on my big toe. I took it out of my shoe and noticed there was a big, blue vein at the base of the toe I had never seen before. Hmm, weird, I thought. Fast forward to 6 p.m. I look at my foot to put my socks and shoes on and there’s a big bruise right where the vein was.

My first thought was that the vein burst. My second thought was that it was a test run for a bigger aneurism. So, of course, I sat down with Google the minute I got home. In case you were wondering, I found absolutely nothing about spontaneous vein swelling, pain, and bruising except for a forum of people saying “Hey, I have that! My doctor doesn’t know what it is.”

Well, the next day, Reuters reported on a study that found that more than half of Americans looked up health information on the Internet. And only a teensy 5 percent of those were people e-mailing their docs.

[Read more →]

photo by *zoah.n

Well, it’s a blizzard. I spent all day yesterday working from home as the snow poured down. The Man fought off the masses at the grocery store before life as we knew it was buried in the blizzard. (At least that’s what the round-the-clock news coverage of the storm would have you think.) Let’s just say he went a little crazy.

The mass frenzy at the supermarket lit a fire in The Man, and with the words Super Bowl repeating in his mind, he stocked up on enough junk food to feed an entire fraternity. Including spray cheese in a can. Need I go on?

Didn’t think so. Anyhow, should the D.C. area lose power and disappear from civilization for a week, The Man and I will subsist on barbecue potato chips, tortilla chips, nacho cheese, spray cheese, pub cheese—yes, he bought three liquid cheese products—along with double stuffed Oreos. Did I mention our Super Bowl party has no guests? When it comes to major sporting events, boys will be boys.

Or he’s trying to kill me.

Speaking on disgusting food, I just read a disturbing article about bagged salads. I knew there was a reason I never purchased them. Up until yesterday, my reasoning was that the lettuce wasn’t as fresh as buying a full head. That, and I don’t trust anyone with cleaning my food. I guess I had good reason to be suspicious.

Consumer Reports just released a report that says 39 percent of packaged salad mixes exceeded limits for two different types of bacteria present in fecal matter. I don’t think I need to go on. Let’s just say if I were ever to take a shortcut and use bagged lettuce, that desire has been zapped.

Whatever you do, do not suggest in the comments that regular heads have the bacteria, too. I need to think it’s cleaner. Capiche?

What do you all have planned for the Super Bowl? (Someone tell me they’re surrounded by junk food, too!) And on the topic of tainted salad—will you eat it but wash first? Or will you stick to regular heads?

Happy Friday everyone!

I’m working from home today because the mid-Atlantic is supposed to get hit with yet another blizzard. Normally I’d be smiling ear to ear about a semi snow day. (I know I’m not the only grown up who acts like a kid when it comes to snow days.) But this one is one big annoyance.

A few months ago, I had to cancel a dentist appointment because of a flat tire. It was rescheduled for December. Then the snow came. The doctor cancelled. It was rescheduled for tomorrow. You can see where this is going, right? Anyhow, the next Saturday appointment isn’t until May. May! Which means I can either suck it up and go during the week or I can find a new dentist—all before my teeth rot.

(In case you’re wondering what the fuss is about, here’s the deal: I’m still seeing my Maryland dentist even though I moved to Virginia over a year ago. I love him. I trust him. I don’t want to switch. But getting from Northern Virginia to Maryland during the week—what should be a half hour drive—can take all day when you count rip-your-hair-out D.C. traffic.)

Anyhow, that longwinded explanation was just me giving you proof that this snow storm is a pain.

Moving on…

I haven’t yet bought it, mainly because I’m on a fiction kick and I’d like to keep up the momentum, but I’m eyeing Michael Pollan’s latest book Food Rules: An Eater’s Manual. If you haven’t heard, it’s a compilation of easy-to-follow rules for healthy eating. Forget science, forget fad diets. The little book features simple tidbits to guide your meals. Like: “Cooking for yourself is the only sure way to take back control of your diet from the food scientists and food processors.” And: “Stop eating before you’re full.”

If I had to pick a rule to eat by, I’d say it’s “everything in moderation.” I will never give up sweets (I’d die! I swear!) but I won’t go overboard. More and more, I’m learning to love another rule: “Know where your food comes from.”

How about you—what food rules do you live by? Have you read Pollan’s latest book? If so, which of his rules is your favorite?

photo by hexodus…
Oh Mike Seaver…

I was a tween back in the wholesome ’80s. In those days, we got our morals from Dr. Cliff Huxtable, not Gossip Girl. And in those days, I loved the show Growing Pains. I always wanted to be Tracey Gold. I don’t think it had much to do with her character, the chubby overachiever Carol, though we do share the same Type A personality. Nope, it was because Tracey Gold had the same first name as me. (It’s rare I come across another Tracey, you know.) Not only that, but she spelled it with an e, not the wrong way: Tracy. Oh, and did I mention her last name started with a G? Just like my maiden name? So cool.

That pretty much sums up how kids pick their role models. There’s no science behind it. There’s no listening to a mother say so-and-so is a nice girl or a good, fine woman. Nope, it’s completely random, kind of like everything else a kid does. (As in: Why does a kid decide she suddenly hates red foods? There is no reason. She’s a kid. It probably sounded cool that day.)

photo by calmdownlove

The reason I’m thinking about Tracey Gold isn’t because she’s still my role model (hello, she was sloppy seconds once Kelly Kapowski came along). It’s because I was reading a post about today’s children and role models over at Psych Central. The author started worrying about the state of role models today: Miley Cyrus with shorts up to there. Pink prancing around practically naked. Lady Gaga being Lady Gaga. And Tiger Woods being … oh you know. I’m glad I’m not a parent. I think I’d go mad. And buy a lot of Selena Gomez stuff.

The article made me think…

[Read more →]

photo by food thinkers
Pumpkin seeds are high in magnesium

My mother is notorious for saying half sentences.

“Oh, I meant to ask you about that thing. The one that, um … um…”

Or: “I forgot to tell you! Oh, wait, my phone’s ringing. Hang on.” Yup, Mom, what did you want to tell me? “Hmm…I don’t know. Must not have been too important.”

I’m used to these half thoughts. So I was very excited to read about a supplement that boosts brain power.

You listening, Mom?

Anyhow, what was I talking about? Oh, right, how I loved Lost last night. And how I’m addicted to it all over again.

[Read more →]

photo by .through my eyes.’s

Just when you thought thin was in…

… a group of researchers publish a study that says being overweight extends life in people age 70 and older. Huh?

Here’s what we know: Most of the research this decade (well, really last decade seeing as 2010 jump started a new decade) has found that being overweight causes a number of diseases—type 2 diabetes, heart disease, stroke, cancer, and more. There’s been a lot of talk, too, about getting older folks to drop pounds.

But a study published in the Journal of the American Geriatric Society reports that weight loss may do more harm than good when it comes to the elderly. The researchers studied more than 9,200 Aussie men and women for more than 10 years or until their death. They accounted for lifestyle factors, demographics, and overall health.

[Read more →]