Rubbery Pickle

I am usually pretty siked when I ovulate, but not this cycle when I am trying not to conceive. Here's the problem, I get super horny when I ovulate, it's hard to believe but I get more horned up than usual. I have egg-white juices flowing, while that may not seem appetizing, keep in mind that makes for a very lubricated yoni, lots of juice for the pickle.

Here is where the problem lies, I like my pickle o'naturale and not rubbery. I hate the damn condom and I don't care if that's politically incorrect. I hate the way they smell. I hate the way they feel. I hate the fact they dry me out. I hate they way the pickle tastes after the rubber is off. AND I hate my beautiful pickle looking like a stuffed sausage. I usually just risk the pull-out method, but with an upcoming oral surgery (all 4 wisdom teeth removal), I didn't want to risk being knocked up (ha ha laughing bitterly -- as if I could get knocked up so easily) and inadvertently feeding my unborn baby general anesthesia.

Hubby got home at 6 am from work on Sunday morning. Of course I was horny. We fooled around and did everything but the "deed" b/c of my hatred for the condom. I spooned hubster. His naked ass was up against my yoni and I felt so turned on that I thought I was going to explode. That's the thing with ovulation time, I just need to be f*cked. Sometimes a girl just needs a dick in the box. At this point it was close to 7 am and I started nibbling on hubby. That man is a trooper, after working 17+ hours, he could sense my turn on and was happy to oblige.

It's been so long since I've had a rubbery pickle.. and honestly it was all good. I didn't even notice. I came fast and hard. I could go for a pickle right now. Gots to love those female hormones.

Magic Noodles

Why do I call them magic noodles? Uhm.. what else do you call 2 serving of noodles for 40 calories? The magic noodles are actually Shiratki noodles made from tofu but don't taste like tofu or anything really. The noodles are great for a guilt-free pad thai or stir fry. A thank you to the low-carb gods.

Don't Ever Underestimate Fat People

I went hiking with T today. We showed up at Griffith Park to do a 7 mile hike. I was scared. I work out 3 times a week and have a BMI of 18.6 but I haven't hiked forever. I figured the other hikers would all be in killer shape with hot bods. Our leader was fat, I'm not trying to be mean, but he was honestly very over-weight. There were many chubby hikers and a few people that were plus 60+. The moment I saw these folks, I thought to myself, "boo-yah this is going to be a cake walk." I am a f*cking fool. We immediately went on a dirt path going straight up hill and I thought I was going to die. I felt as if someone was stabbing me in the chest and lungs. I thought my legs were going to fall off. At one point I fantasized about having a helmet so I could roll downhill back to my car. I didn't think there was anyway that I would be able to finish. T and I at one point considered turning around (T is also in killer shape). We climbed around 1400 feet. I can't even believe I was able to finish. I have never sweated so much.

Lesson learned: Some chubby/over-weight or elderly hiker can whoop my ass and beat me in a race any day. I plan on hiking every week, I am in pathetic shape.

What Makes Me Happy?

Many many many things. I’m bubbling over with happiness today. I think it’s a combination of all of the yoga/exercise, hubby getting home before 9 pm and the gorgeous SoCal weather. What starts my day off right is my morning kiss. Before I leave my house I kiss hubby in three places (nose, cheek and lips) and he smiles in his sleep. He has this big grin and looks so happy from my kisses. It breaks my heart, yes even after almost 3 years of marriage, to leave him in the morning. But his smile causes my heart to sing and a dopey smile to form on my lips the entire drive to work. I feel ziiiiiiiiiiingy!!!!!!!!!!!

Energy Blockage

Conscious and unconscious stress or negativity block my energy flow and the build up occurs at my neck. My neck always hurts, but not when I'm chillaxing or having fun. As soon as my acupuncturist inserts her needles into my shoulders the pain instantly vanishes. The acupuncturist suggested that I do yoga to help my energy blockage. I tried out this 55 second video and the pain in my neck disappeared almost instantly. Try it!

The Bass Player

Part I of a potential Part II

While stuck in LA traffic on my way home from work, I noticed the woman in the car behind me crying her eyes out. Her mascara streaked face and hysterical sobbing brought me back to the days I cried almost daily, for 7 years to be exact. I made the mistake of dating the Bass Player (Bass for short) for 6 years and 364 days too long. Lesson learned: (1) a 16 years old has no business picking up a hitchhiker and then dating him (perhaps no one should pick up a hitchhiker) (2) when the first thing out of a guy's mouth is -- "I just stopped taking acid last week. Every time I took acid.. it changed who I was. I kept taking it until I became who I wanted to be" -- run away from him, not walk, RUN.

Anyhow, Bass was an a*shole. He treated me like sh*t. But when you meet a guy at the impressionable age of 16, you start thinking that general a*sholery is the norm. You start thinking everyone's relationship is just as f*cked up as yours. You also don't think you deserve better. Yeah, I took an emotional bat to the head, among other things... [Perhaps a story for another time. Not now. It'll leave me far too emotionally exhausted and raw. Perhaps in Part II.]

I think a lot of people thought I was a goner, condemned to live a sh*tty life with a sh*tty guy. Did I mention that I accepted Bass's marriage proposal? My friends and family hated Bass. I didn't know how to leave. I felt trapped. One moment, perhaps a culmination of many other moments, set me free... AK and I were driving back to PT from DC and discussed my upcoming nuptials.

Me: I have hesitations about marrying Bass.
AK: Why don't you talk to Bass about these issues?
Me: I can't. I just can't. I can't talk to him about this kind of stuff.
AK: You should be able to tell the man you're going to marry everything, especially this kind of stuff.

It just clicked. Holy sh*t how could I marry Bass when I couldn't talk to him about anything. I know, I was a stupid and weak twit. As soon as we got to PT, that very night, I gave Bass back his engagement ring. He soon after admitted to cheating on me for the past 7 years. Perhaps he needed a couple more tabs of acid to become a better man.

I really believe that anyone's life can change for the better in any given moment. Our past does not bind us. That one day driving back from DC with AK changed my entire life. And now there's hubby -- who does not need acid or any drugs to become a better man. Fear has no place in my relationship. I have never been afraid to talk to my husband about anything. He is sweet, gentle, respectful and kind beyond words. You wonder why many of my posts are dripping with happiness? I found hubby, the love of my life, and escaped life with Bass. By the way, Bass now has 4 kids with 2 different women, one is with his wife and the rest are with his his mistress. Can we say an Amen to the life I escaped?

Peace.

Free Yoga?

Do you ever feel like work gets in the way of life? Now that my film festival project is over I thought I would have oodles of free time. I was wrong. Mondays, my day off from work, are chock full of chores that need to get done such as my weekly acupuncture appointments in the South Bay, grocery shopping, cleaning up the house and all of that junk. The rest of the week I get out of work at 6 and try to hit the gym and get home in enough time to make dinner and catch up on reading. In L.A. there are tons of great community meditations, great for spiritual nourishment, but once again I’d have to rush out of work to even make it on time. Effing work. The weekend is packed with outdoorsy activities like a 7 mile hike this Saturday and the Festival of Books at UCLA on Sunday. When does a girl just get to chillax?

With all of this hustling and bustling around in L.A. traffic, I need my yoga. Yoga classes are expensive. I feel guilty splurging on yoga classes on top of my gym membership. The yoga classes at my gym are great, if you don’t have a job, and can do yoga during the middle of the work day. This free yoga gets delivered daily via internet. It’s also not the same boring routine you’re stuck with on a DVD. I’m a fan. Anything to lighten up my daily load.

Wake up each morning to a free one-hour yoga class from beautiful Jackson Hole,Wyoming. World class yoga instructors Adi Amar, Neesha Zollinger and Sarah Kline will take you through a session that focuses on strength building, flexibility, stamina, and meditation-in-motion. Yoga Today delivers a new show, 7 days a week, 365 days per year, keeping your workouts fresh and energizing.

If I am ambitious enough I can download the video at night and wake up in the morning to do yoga daily. Or maybe I enjoy sleep to much.

Girl Crush

By girl crush I don't mean my desire to go muff diving (check out urban dictionary for appropriate definition). I met a gorgeous, I mean beyond model-esque gorgeous, chick this weekend. She was also unpretentious, ultra cool and totally down to earth. Her beauty was mesmerizing. I couldn't stop staring at her. We were in the bathroom together applying lipstick and tugging on our respective hair (we became fast friends).

Eve: I forgot my lipstick. Damnit. Could I try on some of yours?
Me: [Felt super cool. Her makeup was flawless and she wanted my lipstick??] Of course. Here ya go.
Eve: Does it look okay?
Me: Looks awesome on you. Dude my hair sucks. I tied it back b/c I only got a chance to straighten my bangs. I see frizz.
Eve: Don't worry about the frizz. You're absolutely gorgeous.

Girl crush called me gorgeous. Her compliment means more than a compliment given by any boy or hubby for that matter. Hubby has to love me, he's hubby, his opinion is so tainted from the love in his eyes (of course hubby if you're reading this, keep telling me I'm the hottest thing alive). Ladies you know what I'm talking about? When a smoking hot woman calls you hot, you feel super hot.

At the end of the night, girl crush gave me her number and email to chill in the future. Yay. I feel ultra-hip.

Happy 420

Fun quote of the day: [W]hen I was in England I experimented with marijuana a time or two, and I didn't like it. I didn't inhale. --Candidate Bill Clinton (The New York Times, 3/30/92) Where did the term 420 come from you ask? According to my friend Wiki, "in 1971, a group of teenagers at San Rafael High School in San Rafael, California, calling themselves "The Waldos", used to meet every day after school at 4:20 p.m. to smoke marijuana at the Louis Pasteur statue." Are we surprised the term was coined in my beloved Bay?

Here's a bit more detailed information from Steven Hager:

One day, one of the Waldos was given a map to an abandoned pot field located in a remote section of Marin County near the ocean. The Waldos met one day after school to go look for this pot patch and they decided to meet at the Louis Pasteur statue outside the school at 4:20. They reminded each other during the day about the planned adventure by saying "420" to each other in the hallways. They would spend many afternoons searching for the field, but never found it. Eventually, 420 became a Waldo code word for marijuana, a code that spread into the Grateful Dead scene, and eventually reached High Times magazine. After I discovered the code, I began organizing ceremonies at 420 at the Cannabis Cup, WHEE!, and other events. Before long, the code circled the globe and people in Japan, Australia, Netherlands, Brazil, and many other countries began celebrating marijuana at 4:20 p.m. I think 420 is important for a number of reasons. Not only is it the first big international holiday of cannabis culture, but it's also a helpful guide for responsible use. Unless you have a medical need, it's best to wait until 4:20 to become intoxicated. It's our "tea time" and "happy hour" rolled into one. And remember: The less you do, the
higher you get. People who wait until 4:20 get a lot higher than breakfast bonghitters.

I personally think a war on pot is idiotic. So in honor of 420, I will share some "Grass" with you, a history of the American war against Maryjane, the terrorist hippie chick. Enjoy the documentary.

Boom Shak-a-laka Boom Shak-a-laka Boom

Hollywood is the land of the fake titties. 11:35 PM on a cold and windy Wednesday night in Hollywood and all you can see for miles ahead of you are armies of the bouncing silicon. These girls wear their shirts so tight (and cropped), I swear their boobs are ready to pop out and knock someone out. To my silicon lovelies, I dedicate this song to you:

Ass shakin'
Tits jigglin'
Hips movin'
Like Boom Boom Shak-a-laka Boom
Shak-a-laka Boom! Boom! Boom!

Books & Booze

Monday my book club got together to discuss Killing Hope. Yup, a heavy yet interesting read. This month's book club hostess put together a delicious spread with my favorite drink, bubbly. A deliciously fizzy alcoholic drink paired together with a heavy book is a perfect combo. I drank about 3-4 glasses of bubbly in the span of 4 hours while noshing on tons of zesty treats. 3-4 drinks and a quasi-empty stomach is bad news bears for this light weight chick. I got home and puked my brains out. I passed out, fully clothed, on my bed.

I woke up at 5 am on Tuesday feeling drunk. I stumbled to the bathroom to take a shower. Everything just hurt. I tried to down some water but ended up running to the toilet to puke again. I attempted to straighten my hair, but had to take several breaks where I lied down on my carpet in the fetal position. End result of straightening while hung over = frizzy ass hair.

I think I'm done with alcohol for a very long time. I can't hold my liquor. This is perfect timing (my hatred for alcohol) because as soon as my wisdom teeth are pulled -- I will be gearing up to conceive Benjabi. Let the detoxification begin. Goodbye booze!

My Friend is Pregnant -- Staying Positive

My friend Smurf is pregnant. She's 32 years old and 11 weeks along. I met up with her and other festival folk for a weekend project. As soon as she told me she was 11 weeks pregnant, I felt like someone kicked me really hard in the stomach. Of course I'm happy for her, but her pregnancy made me feel empty inside. I struggled to fight back tears. I couldn't really speak. I don't think I realized how much I wanted to be pregnant until that moment.

The three of us gals chatted. I think I needed to hear them tell me over and over that I am 27 years old and I can get pregnant. Smurf told me that she was anxious and stressed out because it just is stressful when you want a baby so badly. She told me she was hella depressed in January. Her cycles are irregular and long like mine. The only thing that helped her was focusing on all the blessings in her life and staying positive.

So this is the post I'm going to come back to each and every time I am down or feel sad. Logic must supersede emotion. Here are some of the reasons why I should be grateful:

• I can get pregnant. I started trying to conceive in the end of October and had a positive pregnancy test on November 30th. I miscarried in mid-December. My cycle has just gotten normal. We've only been trying for one cycle. Technically, I shouldn't start trying until now, to allow my body to heal according to the OBGYN.
  
• I get to enjoy this cycle because there is no TTC until my wisdom teeth are pulled. I get to drink wine and have my coffee. I get to have carefree goalless sex.
• My husband loves and respects me. I am married to my best-friend. I found him at 24 years of age. God just gave him to me and I am so blessed.
• My husband has the kind of career that will allow me to stay at home with my children and have a wonderful life with zero stresses about money/finances.
• My family is amazing, both by blood and marriage.
• My friends are my family (loving, inspirational, loyal).
  
• I have no regrets about my professional and personal life. I have obtained the kind of job that I always wanted, I get to help people daily, and that allows me to walk away from it.
• My body is ready for pregnancy. I am at my ideal weight.
• My mind and heart are ready for pregnancy.
  

Benjabi, mommy is waiting for you, whenever you're ready little one.

3 BT: Hair

How can you not be happy when you think of three beautiful things? My theme today is the beauty of hair.

(1)My husband is hairy. He’s a cute fuzzy monster.

(2)I threaded my upper lip 2 weeks ago and it is still basically fuzz free!

(3)God bless you Los Angeles and your gorgeous dry weather. I got out of the shower last night and bobby pinned my bangs (I hate wet hair against my face). I went to bed without putting any product in my hair. Woke up today with wavy/curly -- yet frizz-free --hair. No blow-drying or fuss necessary

Yoyoin' With My Heart

With a loved one sick I build my own defense system around my heart. I just can't see my dad sick. He wasn't in great shape this weekend. I couldn't believe the person I was looking at was my dad. So I didn't. I thought of this person as a poor look alike. My dad is fat. This person weighs less than me. My dad is hyper. This person took naps. My dad walks with determination. This person shuffled. My dad is loud and yells at me. This person was quiet and meek.

I got back to L.A. on Sunday night and I remember feeling a sense of deep loss because I thought my dad was gone. I called him today, he's on his second round of chemo, and I got to talk to my dad and not this strange person. He yelled at me. He laughed. He was funny. He made plans for future trips to India. I didn't want to get off the phone. How long will he stay this way (healthy, quirky, opinionated and loud)? I'm scared to call him tomorrow. Who will I get, dad or the strange man? My prayer: Jesus and all other Messiahs, please just give him another chance at living. Let him stay strong and healthy. Don't play with his heart or mine. I'm tired of the emotional yoyoin'. And when you take him, hopefully years from now, don't kill him with the big C, let him die suddenly and painlessly.

Whatever happens. I have to let go of this defense system. I have a sick dad and I have healthy dad. They're the same person. I gotta deal and get a grip.

An Interesting Lick of Ice Cream

I encountered a girl (aka suitable girl) that hubby had gone on one date with a few months before he met me. She is like hubby in many ways: Ivy-league educated, Punjabi, Sikh, and from the Bay (she would have made my in-laws cream). I'm public school educated, Bengali, Catholic and from Patheticut (PT). I asked him why he never called suitable girl for a second date.

Hubby replied, "She was crazy."

He gave me a few examples of this chic's craziness -- nothing was crazy, she was completely normal. I reminded hubby that none of the examples of suitable girl's craziness compared to my craziness. I gently reminded hubby that I sent him a questionnaire, when I didn't really know him, asking things like 1.) have you ever bitten off your toe nails with your teeth 2.) has anyone wrapped their lips around your Punjabi penis 3.) [use your imagination as the questions got much more interesting.] For a second I was upset, did hubby not believe that I am a crazy Bengali chick bubbling with quirks and eccentricities? Hubby quickly assured me that he has never encountered anyone quite as interesting as me. Good.

So I asked hubby, "So obviously it wasn't the fact that this chic was crazy. Damnit you know you like crazy. You married crazy and you f*cking love that sh*t. Why did I tickle your fancy? Why did you pursue a relationship with me and never call suitable girl for a second date?"

Hubby said to me, "You're unbelievably hot and she's not. Bottom line."

I'm not denying the fact that I'm a hot brownie, I clean up purdy good. This just doesn't sit well with me. Are men that shallow? Did hubby want to get to know me b/c he thought I was hot? Suitable girl is not ugly, she's a 6.5-7 on the looks-meter. Does hotness make that much of a difference?

I don't think so. Here's my theory -- Hubby pursued me b/c he found himself a bowl of crazy and he wanted to double dip as much as possible. How do I say this... my husband appears from the outside to like vanilla ice cream but he secretly wants bubble-gum, pistachio, fig, cherry garcia, mocha, mango, chunky monkey, cake batter and chubby hubby flavor ice-cream all in one attractively packaged container. I gots those flavors.

Ethnically Ambiguous

My friend Andrew is a Puerto Rican Jew. He is hilarious, quirky, witty, brilliant and simply a good friend. He made my days in Patheticut more bearable. Andrew is flirty with words in a very authentic way. He was asked to particpate in onBeing, I am not surprised. onBeing is currently featured on the Washington Post's website.

onBeing is a full screen interactive video feature that takes you into the musings, passions, histories and quirks of all sorts of people.

Love the idea.

Check out this video of my friend Andrew. Enjoy.

Sex for Sex

Sex for sex's sake is deliciously orgasmic. This month we are off the ttc (trying to conceive) bandwagon as I must get my wisdom teeth pulled. Anesthesia and tubby don't mix well. It is so much easier to cum (4 times yesterday morning might I add) when I don't have to worry if my legs are propped back far enough, I'm in the best position to hold sperm, whether my cervical fluid is egg white consistency or decipher my temperature. It's honestly glorious. Liberating. Fun.

There's also no mystery sex with baby-making. Everything is planned, planned and planned. I had to catch my egg! Even when I planned to be laid back and not plan sex, that's bullsh*t, I still calculated my chances of pregnancy secretly. I would call poor hubby and scream, "You need to get home NOW. I NEED SPERM." Not very romantic, luckily hubby never seemed to mind. I analyzed everything hubby did and would say things like "don't do that - that won't make a baby" or "STOP - is that safe for tubby" or hubby's least favorite "no you're not getting head d*amnit, that's a waste of sperm." Mystery sex if far more appetizing especially with a little vino.*** I don't know where hubby is or what he's doing with his appendages, I just get to relax and enjoy the rolling orgasms. After mystery sex, I say things like, "I sure as hell don't know what you were doing and I don't care if it's legal, unf*ckingbelievable! Do it again! Do it again! Do me again!"

With all the fun I'm having, I'm not sure when I'll be ready for ttc sex, maybe never. Baby-making sex can go suck an egg, if it can ever catch one.

***A Bengali Chick public service announcement: Inebriation and sex are not a good thing, unless you're with a committed partner that you trust.

I Stood Up For My MIL

I never thought this day would come. We're leaving tonight for the Bay to visit in the in-laws and my family for Easter. We have spent most of our time with my family during the last several visits. My in-laws have been very cool about it, surprisingly. This time I wanted to spend Friday and Saturday with the in-laws. My MIL really wants us to go to a Punjabi function Saturday night. I planned on driving to see my parents late Saturday night and spending Easter with them as well.

My husband called me yesterday to tell me that the plan changed and we would leave his family early Saturday morning. I was outraged. I said to him, "How can you do this to your mom? She never gets to go out and she really wants to go to this function! You best call her and tell her you made a mistake." My husband was shocked. I'm cool with the in-laws now.

My dad is not happy with me. This is how it went down:

Dad: Moon, when are you coming?
Me: We leave for the Bay on Thursday night, but we'll see you on Saturday night.
Dad: Why?
Me: We have to visit hubby's family dad, we never get to see them.
Dad: What??? We don't have room in our house?
Me: Dad. You know hubby's parents haven't spent time with us for so long. They need to see us too. Please understand.
Dad: Alright. Fine. Bye. Here's your mom. [Pissed off]

Family, what a delicate balancing act.

Sprinkles Rookie Mistake

I arrived in front of Sprinkles Bakery at 2 PM and found a long line. I was shocked. How good can a cupcake be? I waited 30 minutes in line for the flourless cupcake. People were buying cupcakes like they were going out of style. I clucked my tongue at them, the Sprinkles box has become the Tiffany's powder blue box for baked goods in Los Angeles. I bought 2 cupcakes, one flourless cupcake for me and a vanilla with milk chocolate cupcake for hubby. The cupcakes were $3.25 each. I was craving a sweet treat so I paid the exorbitant price.

I am a FOOL. Hands down, the best cupcake I have ever had. Hell it's better than what I remember a cupcake to be from the days I used to eat wheat. I may go as far as saying that it was one of the best baked goods I have ever tasted. How do I describe the taste of this velvety, fluffy, pillow-like, chocolate, creamy goodness? Each bite melted in my mouth. The cupcake was not too sweet, just enough chocolate, delicate and decadent without being heavy. The frosting exploded in fresh vanilla taste.

Sprinkles makes me feel like I am not missing out on anything being allergic to wheat. Yes, the cupcake was that orgasmically good. The bakery closes at 7 PM and the cupcakes are a holiday special, only being sold until April 10th. I'm going to the Bay this weekend for Easter. Luckily, Monday is my new day off, and you can be sure I'm buying a dozen cupcakes on Easter Monday. How am I going to wait an entire week???

How does a flourless cupcake taste better than a for real flour cupcake? MAGIC.

I'm going to go lick the crumbs off my plate.

Sprinkles Bakery

Sprinkles is a famous bakery in Beverly Hills that is supposed to make one bad ass cupcake. Apparently comfort foods have become the chic food in the past few years. I've never tried Sprinkles because of my dreaded wheat allergy. However, they have a flourless chocolate cupcake with a vanilla glaze for Passover for a limited time (4/2 - 4/10). I will be there bright and early tomorrow morning.