fitforafemme.com

Confession: DOUBLE WHAMMY! Because I’ve neglected y’all and I am terribly sorry. I’ve purchased a sewing machine, resumed my French lessons, started Bollywood dancing and helped a friend throw an amazing benefit for her AIDS Lifecycle 8 Ride over the weekend. Phew! I hope you enjoy the sassy new belt from modcloth.com and the exclusive softball game pics with a peek of the tomboy! I swear I swear I swear I’m not neglecting the sniffs section of the blog – I’ve got plenty, I’ve just been lazy in that dept. – and will try to post a few new ones this week. End. Weekend! Soon. Really. Have I told you lately that I love you? Well, I do. XO.

*Shades below by Spy Optics and vintage Wilson’s leather jacket.

Confession: OK, OK. I didn’t really smoke inside of the loft, settle down. That’s so against the law. The rules. You know. ALRIGHT, SO IT WAS ONE MEASLY DRAG, but it was totally by accident, I swear to God. I was channeling Monica Bellucci in Malena (or maybe Joan Holloway from Mad Men, does it really matter which?) and got a little carried away. The entire unsmoked cigarette is in the trash under my sink if you don’t believe me. Where was M? At her monthly poker game, winning us some monies, bless her heart (she always wins). If it’s of any consolation, I sat through 17 Again this afternoon at the movies (yes, with that Zac Efron douche), eating free popcorn and squeezing some joy from the sad 80s references spattered like roadkill throughout the movie. I also overcame great technological odds and mastered my newfangled new special DJ box thingee all by myself before lunchtime, so there!

PS. Yes, I know it’s very bad and naughty, but to be perfectly honest I can’t remember the last time I smoked a cigarette the whole way through, much less several in a day. It very seldomly happens anymore!

Awhile ago, AYL requested photos of my closet. Spring hadn’t quite sprung yet, and my closet was a disaster. Full of lovely things, yes, but a disaster. I wanted to mine it, sift through it, tear the weeds out of it and let the sartorial soil begin anew.

Alright, alright – let’s just be honest and cut the bullshit. M made me get rid of things, basically. We are moving in June, after all. Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnneeee.

By then it was okay, because Spring HAD sprung and buoyed me along with it, and while they’re still in bags waiting to be sold or donated, I got rid of three very stuffed large paper bags worth of stuff (say that with a maximum amt. of disdain, like Miranda Priestley in The Devil Wears Prada). Which means y’all, at long ever-lovin’ last, get pics of my closet. A moment of silence, please, for what only has a few more months to live:

God bless the walk-in.
God bless the square footage.
God bless the lighting, which was just repaired.

I WILL NOT FIND THIS IN SAN FRANCISCO, KITTENS. No sirree. I really have no bloody fucking idea what I am going to do, because M wants me to also get rid of The Beast (I am still fighting her on that – “We must wait!” I cry, “We must wait until we see where we will be living because what if we need it? What if it serves as a divider betwixt living and dining? Home office and living? Or maybe…in the room, for my shoes. By God, woman, let’s don’t argue – just WAIT!”).

Before I go off to cry broken, heaving sobs of defeat, here’s a little bit more. We like it up close and personal here at FFAF.

Confession: I first noticed this poster months ago, right after we elected Obama, I think. It’s stuck onto the front of a massive electrical unit, which hums rather loudly despite the fact that the 880 is a few yards away. I knew I wanted it as a focal point for a blog post but it just didn’t want to happen. Until today! I don’t know, I love it. I love that it’s red, white and blue, I love that it says DONE, I love that it’s got that prick SOB’s face on it and that the words “shining beacon of hope” are tucked into the lower right corner, for one to interpret however they best wish. I hope that I am posting this before the message is too obsolete, though I don’t think – as a person, a woman and a mother, a lesbian, nor for the country as a whole – that it can ever truly be obsolete at all. What do y’all think? Any similarly awesome political street art in your ‘hoods?

Scent: These are so fancy and awesome that I’m writing them up instead of a new fragrance. They are candles and they smell incredible. I wanted Stonehenge (smoked cedarwood and amber), which was much more handsome and gentleman’s parlor, but M picked Havana, which would have been my second choice – for the tobacco leaf and bergamot notes. They are potent but not overpowering, pretty to look at and eco-friendly (I think). Get your own Archipelago goodies here!

For a little bit of Oakland, pics of our delicious brunch at Somerset and more, check out the slideshow!

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Confession: Y’all? These are fancy new pictures from my fancy new camera! Except they aren’t that fancy yet, because I am only on page 30-something in the manual, which is very…well, let’s just say that I think I’m supposed to create a custom menu for every possible mode combination and that is HARD.

I’m still figuring out what the hell is what! Even with the automatic, point-and-shoot settings, I hope you can tell the difference! I’ll get better real soon, I swan. One last thing? Good LORD it’s gonna take some getting used to that this camera is so sharp it picks up: stray dog hairs, dust, imperfections on my fussy ass skin (I have a threading appt. tomorrow, shut up!), etc. See how crispy the non-reflection stuff is compared to the reflection? MAYBE M SHOULD CLEAN HER SIDE OF THE MIRROR, GUYS.

The second order of business for today (and I know it’s lovely all across the whole country today, but this post is for nibbles over the weekend, hence the title) is to say YEEHAW, M & I got featured on yesterday’s Queer Eye Candy. Check us out here.

Queer Eye Candy is a neat little blog that gives you fresh queer meat to nom on every day, and who can say no to that?

PS. I ran into the bathroom in a feisty huff after reading M’s comment about the bathroom sink(s), to prove my point via photo. Well, after taking a good, long look at the state of things, two things are clear:

1. There are no winners here.
2. Please, God, if you love me at ALL you won’t make me move into a 1-bathroom come June. Please.
3. Honestly? Honestly, three bathrooms would be best for all parties involved. This prevents me from scarring someone with a hot roller.

Confession (Tomboy): Easter was invented specifically to remind us that we must eat all animals, especially super cute baby ones, because even the candy is shaped like rabbits and lambs and chicks and eggs. Most people don’t cook rabbit, though. But they do cook pork! I love pork. I love pork chops and bacon and ribs and pork belly and HAM. Mmm, ham. I had some spiral honey glazed ham for dinner, along with some asparagus in hollandaise sauce and scalloped potatoes. Ordinarily I pass up asparagus – because it looks ridiculous and tastes rubbery usually- but with the sauce, it quickly surpassed the potatoes as my favorite side dish. I didn’t even have room to eat my choco-bunny, but that just means I can extend Easter a little bit longer.

Confession (Femme): Easter Sunday at my mother’s was quite lovely! The weather was great, my younger brothers had their usual three stooges shtick going and I plied my folks with enough booze to keep things nice and breezy. M, the petite and I went on a midday bike ride in search of a pond and some cows grazing in a field nearby. There was a fine meal and hunting for Easter eggs and my mom even let me copy down some recipes from my beloved and much guarded Grandma’s recipe box. During all of this, a lifetime mystery was solved. Y’all know how I’m the most fussy, persnickety eater ever?

MY MOTHER CONFESSED THAT IT IS ALL HER BLOODY FAULT!

Get this: When I was born, not only did my mother have a diaper service come along to the house several times per week, she also made all of my baby food herself. By hand. Without exception. Super hippie-yuppy stuff (for 1980, anyway). She kept it all up for at least two years until my brother came along, at which point she did what any self-respecting mother would do, which was to throw up her hands and say, “To hell with all this shit! Disposable diapers and Gerber FTW!” But because every fruit and vegetable I’d had until then had been pureed to high heaven and back from its original organic form, introducing me to the actual textures was never successful. This was compounded by my asshole father’s strict parenting, which allowed zero room for the occasional normal fussy eating of children, much less bringing me ’round to new textures in a non-traumatic way. Not only that, but my mother’s aversions to certain textures mirrors mine exactly, to this day.

M sat across the table completely bewildered, partly speechless and partly actively engaging in the unraveling. It is no wonder that I’ll branch out and be more adventurous so long as the texture of whatever scary food is rendered almost completely unknown. I’ll throw fruits I’d never eat whole into a blender for a smoothie. I’ll refuse to eat corn any other way than on the cob – even if you cut it off with a knife right in front of me, I probably wouldn’t eat it.

I realize all of this would be settled rapidly in by living for a few weeks in a third world country, and trust me, I’ve considered it. M has made me much braver than I used to be, and we’re continously making little deals with one another – I’ll try something she wants me to try, if she does something I want her to do (and no, it’s not always dirty!). There’s still hope for me yet!

PS. I stole this blog post title from my friend’s Easter photo album. It was too cute to not share!

PPS. Before you even bother to ask, yes of course I rode the bike in this dress, heels and gloves. It was a very fancy bike ride.

Confession: I love it when M makes me whiskey-cokes at home, because she serves them in these wee, adorable glasses we bought at Ikea after seeing them at our friend’s lovely home for Sunday brunch a few weeks ago. They’ve got elephants and  birdies and penguins and flowers on them. They’re so fucking weird and perky. I love them! Anyway, M cuts about a third off the straws (we have, like, 500+ straws because I refuse to drink cold beverages without them, with the exception of other cocktails and bottled beer and water, shut up), that’s the best part. The wee straws to go with the wee glasses carrying the not-so-wee contents!

Look, I’ve found a photo of them for you. And you should totally buy some, too! They come in orange. (Bangmaster, I know you want that, to go with your TRADEMARK nails, as only you know.)

EXCITING BREAKING NEWS: This morning, M was all, “We’re going on a secret mystery date. SSH! Don’t ask me any questions. It’s very serious. Bring a purse that you can throw your Moleskine into. In fact, start with the purse, and THEN pick out your outfit.” So, I got ready with nary a clue where we were headed, and off we went. She drove me all around Oakland and I caught on and said, “You’re trying to disorient me on purpose!” – which, by the way, is impossible to do. She’s very sneaky. Well, the date – contrary to the suspicions of some – was NOT at a sex den, shooting range or some hidden San Francisco gem. She took me to Best Buy to test drive the new camera of my choice for my birthday! I was completely thrilled and overwhelmed, having outgrown my Sony Cybershot digital camera long ago. We must have been in there for a few hours, tinkinering with several models based on M’s preliminary research (sneaky!) and my own baseless lust, and finally narrowed the choices down to a couple of digital SLRs and high-end digital cameras. Shoving my chronic desire for instant gratification aside, I bravely took M’s hand and said that I wanted to do more research and model comparisons at home. M supported this, reminding me that they didn’t have the Panasonic Lumix model she’d researched before, and that I might want to test-drive some more in person before deciding.

Alas, I came home, did some research and promptly fell in love with the Panasonic Lumix G1 w/ Leica 14-44mm Lens Kit “anti-SLR” with interchangeable lenses. I LOVE IT SO MUCH ALREADY. Turns out there’s no place I could have test-driven it out here, because no one is carrying it yet (it just came out in November of last year). Still, based on countless reviews, I think it’s going to be fantastic and M is seriously the best, most amazing and dreamy husband ever. She’s excited that I’m so excited, and that, my friends, is true love!

Pls. to meet my shiny new toy: