N'awlins is short for "the best food anywhere"

   On my short trip to New Orleans, Louisiana, I enlisted the help of fellow foodie (and friend), Chris.

   He directed me first to Cafe Du Monde in the French Quarter for beignets and special coffee made with chicory, which I drank black (like a boss).
   Beignets are french "doughnuts", not what we would consider doughnuts, but more like a cross between a traditional doughnut and a funnel cake. Squares of a light dough are deep fried and BURIED in powdered sugar and served hot and delicious.
   The coffee at Cafe Du Monde is blended with chicory (endive root)-a habit adopted during the Civil War when coffee beans were scarce, and continued to this day. If you don't like coffee black, order a traditional cafe au lait-a mix of coffee, milk and half and half.

Read more about Cafe Du Monde

   For lunch we went to The Coops Place "where the not-so-elite meet to eat". While the atmosphere is decidedly laid-back, the Jambalaya Supreme is quite possible the most well-crafted dish I have ever consumed.
   Ever.

   One thing I always try to find when I am traveling is a used bookstore, and I hit the jackpot with Beckham's Bookshop.
 
   As soon as you open the door, the smell of aged paper and decaying spines beckons you in. Like anyone who has spent any time with old books, I have grown to love the smell the glue in the binding gives off as it slowly rots, especially when mixed with the dusty odor the pages get when they haven't been turned in years.

   Old men in long beards and longer coats walked quietly through the aisles, picking up weather-beaten copies of more recent favorites, as well as heavier tomes. The creak of old floorboards let everyone know that you were entering the upstairs area of the store, and served to warn the fat cat that lived there that someone was entering his domain.
 
   I picked up a copy of one of my old favorites, Anne of Avonlea, to add to my collection and as a souvenir of one of the most perfect bookstores I've had the pleasure to visit.

   Because nothing goes with a good book like a cup of coffee, I walked my way to Canal St & St. Charles to visit this Starbucks: 

   It was unique, it was chic, it had bathrooms that were locked with a keypad. While I love the ambiance and I love Starbucks, I do not love having all the baristas know how often I use the loo (there is no way I'm memorizing 6 digits just to piss).

   Before dinner we stopped at the mall for tea samples and popcorn. Popcorn Bistro ships folks, so even if you don't make it to the Big Easy, you can still try their wild and spectacular popcorn flavors like boiled crawfish, zesty buffalo wing and mardi gras mambo.
   Yes, please.
   After trying about a dozen flavors, I have decided that popcorn gets its own food group.

   As the temperature dropped, I stayed warm with a bowl of only slightly-but-pleasantly-spicy gumbo and a cafe au lait. A word of advice to anyone looking to visit New Orleans: bring cash. Most coffee vendors and a few other places do not accept credit cards. Shocking, but kind of nice in an old-world throwback kind of way.

   I stayed at the India House Hostel for the night,  my first time actually staying at a hostel. A creaky old house with a front room filled with hippies and stickers on the walls, it was nonetheless clean, comfortable and affordable. While I might not go out of my way to stay at hostels in the future, I was pleasantly surprised at how efficient and economical my stay was.

   All in all, my stay in New Orleans was a success. While the trumpet players in the streets, the old world European flair of the houses and shops that line streets are memorable, It's my taste buds that will never let me forget N'awlins.

Hanging baskets in the French Quarter 

Fat Cat at Beckam's that owned the upstairs 

Statue to commemorate the founding of New Orleans in 1718

The Open Road

     It's that time again. Time to pack up my little red lady, my bed on wheels, and wake up in another zip code. My backseat is loaded with pillows and blankets for when I need to take a rest, and nestled safely in my passenger seat are two of closest friends: a cooler filled with food and a bag of books.
 
      I'm set. GPS on and Pandora tuned to the Avett Brothers station, I am once again reunited with my own true love, the open road. I drive through the night and keep my self awake by singing along to my favorite songs or looking out for deer grazing by the road.
   
     Every time I leave home, I feel the conflict inside myself. I am filled with anticipation for what lies beyond the next bend, but I leave some of myself at home. Ten days of new adventure, of different faces and voices; ten days of no kisses in the morning and no cuddles goodnight, no teasing banter and familiar smiles. Every time, I ask myself: am I running toward adventure, or running away from stability? Is every jaunt into the unknown simply to undo all the things I have built, to prove that I am just a rolling stone?
    
    Too many times we look at something that is good, something that is fulfilling, and we run the opposite way in blind fear. We fear love because it asks so much of us, and guarantees so little. So we run-to anything and anyone that promises to keep us safe, to not ask too much, to stay just a little bit distant. Little by little the color and vibrancy is wiped off our smile, till we have nothing left to run to.
     By all means, run forward. Drink in every new sunset and every different smell, climb mountains and swim upstream. Just remember, in the movement forward, to hold tightly to the things that make the journey worthwhile. Savor friendships as they grow and change, gaining the patina and strength of shared memories, cherish the days that waste away slowly in the warmth of familiar companionship.

     Sometimes, the greatest adventure we can experience is the one we live every day.

Gym. Tan. Laundry?

Things you learn working at a gym:

10)  Yes, some women do roll out of bed looking gorgeous, and even in ratty sweats they will still look radiant.
And yes, it is revolting.

9)  I am not one of those women.
Don't get me wrong, on a good day, using instagram filters and a flattering  pose I think I post a solid 7. However, 8 am in gym shorts and last nights make-up is another matter entirely.

8)  You are never too old to act like a bumbling idiot in front of an attractive man.
At 25 you think you are over that blushing, stammering stage-until your making a smoothie for blue-eyes and you forget to put the lid on...

7)  Stereotypes about fit people are often false.
As much as you would like to blame your body on  your busy lifestyle, many of the most fit people I have seen hold jobs and/or go to school. Don't be so quick to write off the guys as "meat heads" just because they're big-some of them might be smarter and more educated than you are.

6) Sometimes the stereotypes are true.
These guys can talk for hours about protein and supplements, but don't expect them to know who Donne is. Or the current president for that matter.

5)  Men really don't change.
The guys watching the girls on the treadmill or the squat rack wear the same face, whether they are 16 or 65.

4) Not everyone should wear yoga pants.
At some point you have to look at people and wonder "how did they look at themselves in the mirror an walk out the door?" I'm not saying that all body types are not beautiful, but you should know what yours is and dress accordingly. To the size 14 in a size 4, you are not rocking it. You are not "owning your body", your body is owning you.
(To be fair, I have done this. I will grab my tiny sister's clothes when I have no clean laundry, and I am properly ashamed).

3)  Gyms should have an age requirement
Or at least stamp the hand of minors. Just because he can grow a beard and has a cute butt does not mean he is over 18. The horrified feeling when he walks in with his class of '14 sweater on will haunt you forever.

The two most important things working at a gym has taught me are:

2) It's never too late to change. I see people into their 70's hitting the weights and staying healthy. If they can do it then there is no excuse for me not to.
   It's not about being skinny or even looking good, it's about making time to be active because it feels good and keeps you young. I no longer view fitness as simply something to make me lean and attractive, but something that I can do to make myself healthier, stronger and more energetic.

1) No two bodies are the same.
Even fit bodies are different, so stop comparing yours to someone else's! You can do all the butt lifts you want, but if it's not in your genetics you will never have ScarJo's curves. Often times women that have a body you would kill for are still insecure. Be comfortable in your own skin, push yourself to be your best and be satisfied. Getting down to your goal weight or level of fitness will not make you love yourself-if you don't love yourself now you never will.



Happy New Years!

Potential

Seeds are not pretty. I have never heard someone stop and remark, "what a lovely seed!"

Seeds are usually withered and dark, small and insignificant.

All of their beauty is tightly bound up where no one can see, hidden on the inside.

But, oh!

When the sun comes, and the rain, the seed cracks open and reveals its true self.

Tendrils of green and white arise, roots and stalk and leaves,

The seed, the shell, long forgotten

In the beauty of new life.

 

You and I, everyone of us like a seed

contains a pent-up beauty, a life within a shell

Whether a stark beech, or a fragrant sage,

Hungry for the sun and thirsting for the rain

We still cling to our shell, like only humans can

Hiding our life, our beauty, our potential.