Friday Afternoon Round Up

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Mom, why don’t you text me stuff like this?

This mom/daughter combo is the reason I don’t have children. I love then, but I could never live up to these standards!

Kids remake Oscar films

And so does a barista!

This hurts my heart

I need to start crossing some of these off. I’ve only done Arizona!

What’s the last photo on your phone?

So how can I become a lion whisperer?

Pretty cool shout out by Robin Hood Board Member, Harvey Weinstein!

Pride

Pride is defined as feeling deep pleasure or satisfaction as a result of one’s own achievements, qualities, or possessions or those of someone with whom one is closely associated.

Feeling pride is definitely one of those emotions that walks a fine line. When it comes to your own achievements or qualities, society only accepts so much. Just look at Facebook. If you post a picture of yourself running a race, say, people all respond with comments of congratulations. However, by the 4th picture you post with your medal, you can almost see the collective eye roll of your friends. One picture of your baby is cute. A picture of your child’s every waking moment is seen as obnoxious. It is a slippery slope my friends.

Last week I had a moment of pride and I just need to share it.

Like nearly all other 20-30 year girls in New York, part of my workout routine involves spending upwards of $30 for a 45 minute spin class. I put on my Lululemon capris and tank top, which are both FAR too cute and expensive to actually sweat in, and join the masses to either “bounce up and down on a bike to the beat of club music” or “fly to the top of the leader board.” Soul Cycle and Flywheel appear far too often on my credit card bill for my husband’s liking but what can I say, it is still cheaper than therapy.

After class, I often call my mom during my walk to the subway. She loves hearing about the class, particularly when I go to Flywheel where they rank your performance against others in the class. But when I go to Soul Cycle, which focuses less on competition and more on “spiritualness”, she has a hard time understanding that.

Mom: “Did you win?”

Me: “This wasn’t the one with scoring”

Mom: “Well, you can probably still tell if you were the best”

Me: “Yah… I was bouncing up and down and feeling the music better than anyone else.”

Even though my mom loves riding her bike outside, and she likes hearing about my spin classes, she had never taken a class herself. I constantly tell her that she should try it but, you know, trying new things after a certain age becomes more and more difficult. Finally I threw down the gauntlet. I told my mother that she needed to try spinning within the next few days or I wouldn’t’ talk to her for a week. Considering we talk AT LEAST once a day, that scared her.

The next thing I knew, she was signing up for an introductory spinning class at her gym. Unfortunately, she picked a day where she was already scheduled to play in two tennis matches. I though there was no way she was going to go.

Well, not only did she go, but she stayed after the 30 minute intro session for the 45 class! She called me after her class to tell me how it went. Hearing about her experience was ten times better than any class I’d attended myself. I was so proud of her for sticking to her commitment, stepping outside of her comfort zone and trying something new and a little scary. It’s a funny feeling to cheer on someone who has been your biggest cheerleader for 31 years. Funny but good.

Oh, and she’s already gone back for a second spin class. Pretty soon she’s going to be at the top of the leader board.

In summary – Mom, I’m proud of you. The kind of proud that is over the top, obnoxious and totally hated by Facebook audiences everywhere.

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The Centennial State

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Over Martin Luther King weekend, Matt and I took a trip to Colorado to visit some our favorite people and do a little skiing.

I’d never been to Vail before but I’d heard all about it from Matt. Every time we go out to Salt Lake City I have to hear all about Vail, the back bowls, grilling out at Blue Sky Basin and how much better it is. So I decided it was time for me to check out this magical mountain myself.

We were lucky enough to be invited to stay at the house of one of Matt’s friend’s mother, just outside of Vail. From the moment we walked in the door and we greeted with this adorable sign, it felt like home.

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The house had an absolutely beautiful kitchen which we took full advantage of. Each couple cooked a meal for the group one of the three nights we were there. I was truly impressed with the variety and quality of what was produced and I was especially impressed with the involvement of the other husbands! Both of them took on the role as head chef, which I not-so-casually, pointed out to my sous chef, Matt.

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Matt and I embraced our New Jersey roots by making meatball subs (which I repeated over the weekend for the Super Bowl). Aaron and Maureen cooked up a perfect apres ski dish, a hearty pork stew made in the crock pot (they just threw pork loin, beef broth, chili powder, paprika, garlic powder, basil, oregano, onion, carrots, bell peppers, and fingerling potatoes into a slow cooked on low for 8+ hours while skiing). Ryan and Lauren spiced things up with an Indian favorite, chicken tikka masala, which had us at an authentic Indiana grocery store the day before. Every meal seemed better than the next and I only had to cook on one night – it almost made me want to live in a commune!

I’m happy to report that the skiing was just as good as Matt made it out to be. We had incredible weather every day and the mountain was surprisingly not packed with people. And while we didn’t get any new snow, I was happy with the fast conditions. Skiing down Birds of Prey, a World Cup downhill ski course at Beaver Creek, I could almost see myself stepping onto the medal podium at Sochi.

Another thing I’d heard about for years was a game Matt and his friends played at Notre Dame called broomball. The game is played on ice and resembles hockey, but without skates (just regular sneakers) and instead of hockey sticks, they used brooms (or something that looked like a broom, I’m still not entirely sure). To be honest, whenever Matt talked about it, it sounded like a lame version of Quidditch and I thought his friends were nerds.

Now I take all of that back.

Broomball is literally one of the best games I’ve ever played and it gave me a chance to relive some of my high school field hockey glory days. After playing for two nights, resulting in lots of bruises, I started googling to see if there were people who play this game in NYC. Sadly, I haven’t come across anything yet.

And even though our flight home was delayed a day due to weather (thankfully Ryan and Lauren put up with us for anther day!) the trip was amazing. I am going to make it my mission to bring some of that Colorado spirit that I love so much back to NJ and into our lives.

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Oh wait a minute — I don’t think that Colorado spirit made it in time for the Super Bowl. Ok, so starting now…

Iceburg Lettuce

You know you are having a busy/hectic day when you put your bag of salad in the freezer at work as opposed to the fridge.

Hmm, I guess that is one way to give your salad more crunch.

Note: If you do this, don’t try to reverse the effects by putting your lettuce in the microwave. It really doesn’t turn out well.