Archive for January, 2010

Thankfully We’re Not In Jail

My car died at a red light.The End.

No really, I was sitting there waiting for green and then the car was just off- no lights, no music, no air, NO BATTERY. This particularly sucked because I just replaced the battery – with a brand new one! – all of two months ago. I feared the worst (alternator) and followed with reflex: I tried to turn the car back on.

It worked! But because when it comes to cars I am the unluckiest person in the history of people I have experienced dead alternators and multiple drained batteries and lousy customer service before. (I also blew out 10 tires in two years once, but that’s neither here nor there.) I knew I was in for a risky ride and I cautiously avoided having to come to a stop on the freeway OMFG in rush hour traffic on 395 and if you don’t get how awesome that is then let me just reassure you – I WIN AT TRAFFIC!

I eased into the gym parking lot (still without having come to a stop: not in traffic, not at a light, not during a merge, not at night) (actually it was at night but I really wanted to rhyme there) and into a parking spot and turned off the engine. I sucked in a deep breath and turned the key and not surprisingly at all, nothing happened. Not even a click. And don’t think you wouldn’t have done the same as me, getting out of the car and being frustrated pushing on the key’s “lock” button, irritated that the doors aren’t locking. What the f——-oh right. Insert the key into the keyhole.

I ran in an scoured the weight room for one Mr. HP and he was all “Hi, Babe!” and I was all “GAHHH carrrbattery stopped light ALTERNATOR!!”

We went home and called the nearest dealership and found out that because my car is leased, two months ago when I replaced the battery at CheapZone for the worth of a week’s groceries, I could have had it replaced! for free! at the dealership! And now, because I have a non-Acura branded battery it will no longer! be free! at the dealership! Huzzah!

I called the number they provided for the tow truck and we went to meet him, waiting in the only open spot in the crowded parking lot, way in back. It only took ten minutes before we saw the flat bed pull in and I ran off to my car as HP went to flag down and direct the driver.

The guys came over while I stood there struggling to get into my poor, little SUV. I put the key in but it wouldn’t open. I tried (in vain, duh) to push the “unlock” button over and over. We all three made attempts and tried to reason about some kind of weird security measure? That you can’t unlock the car door with a dead battery? And I moved to the back of the Acura, confused and dejected (and hungry!) while HP and the tow guy debated the options and tugged on the door handle and peered inside the window. And then I got irritated because in the time that I left my dead car to head home and back some jerk-off put a small sticker on my back windshield!

Slowly, now…

..

..

Yup, there it is.

“This isn’t my car!!”

And all three of us jumped back in one motion with our hands in the air.

The key worked just fine on the identical, black, Acura RDX two cars down. The one with my license plates and no sticker on the back windshield.

The best retort I had to HP was “Well YOU didn’t notice either!”

And then we all laughed. At me.

Turns out that the awesome CheapZone battery putter-inner didn’t tighten the battery cable? Or something? And therefore the fully-operational battery just WASN’T CONNECTED to the car. And upon tightening the car was just fine.

The End. For real this time.

Posted via email from Amyella

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Really Yummy Dijon Chicken

This chicken is so delicious it might be my new favorite recipe. It would be divine with some brown rice – I’d add it to the baking dish when it comes out of the oven so the rices gets covered in the yummy sauce. I served mine with Nana’s lemon broccoli on the side.
Really Yummy Dijon Chicken

2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts
1/4 cup low fat (or fat free – you won’t notice the difference here!) mayo
2-3 Tbs dijon mustard (to taste, I like mine dijon-y)
1 Tbs olive oil
1 Tbs lemon juice
1 tsp Mrs. Dash (lemon pepper variety) (I use generic)
1 tsp low sodium chicken bouillon granules
1 tsp kosher salt
black pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Place chicken in a glass baking dish. Mix everything together and pour it over the chicken. Cover with foil and bake 20 – 30 minutes or until done (I like to cut my pieces up so they’re not very thick and therefore cook faster).You can use frozen chicken, too, just adjust your cooking time accordingly.

I’m totally making this the next time I have company!

Draftz

I’ve had two posts sitting as drafts for, like, a week now. I just don’t seem to have the time to actually WRITE anything. I haven’t written a damn thing for that cool dog site – and I really like it – I just can’t seem to string together 60 straight minutes to create anything coherent with, like, um, grammar and stuff.

I haven’t had a chance to open up Photoshop and practice different tutorials (I’m self taught) (which is why I’m not that good) so I’m not really getting any better. See: same lame blog header.

I’ve owned the domain amyella.com for a while now but I still haven’t gotten around to self hosting this silly blog (see also: design skill, lacking).

I made a really delicious chicken last night that might actually be my new favorite chicken and there’s a slight possibility I’ll get around to posting it after this, but I sure as hell won’t have a chance to pull up the macros any time soon, which I’d like to do.

So, there you have it.  I don’t even have a good dog story for you. Blogger fail.

Anxious

I used to have a short bio in my sidebar that read “anxious about not being anxious enough about the things that make me anxious, since 1992.” It was funny, and articulated by a friend (Hi Sham!) and, sadly, true. I had me some anxiety problems for a long time, to the point where I would, in fact, get anxious if I stopped feeling anxiety. How’s that for holy shitballs crazy?

But I’ve come a long way with my anxiety problems! It’s been a long time since I’ve had an actual panic attack and I don’t even have a script for Xanax anymore (note to self: score a Xanax script) (I didn’t say I no longer have sleep problems).

They are fewer, but there are still moments where my body floods unnecessarily with adrenaline and cortisol. But the moments when it’s the worst, I mean really bad, is when I’m driving. In particular: driving to an unfamiliar place.

My stomach just cramped typing it.

There are countless stories that I could tell but I might as well default to this morning, because that is the most recent, although not the most intense. And if you know me, and especially if you know this area, then you can go ahead and shake your head in disgust (loving disgust?) as you try to imagine the clusterfuck that is me driving to a VERY SCARY new place. IN THE CITY. WITH SCARY CITY TRAFFIC.

Today I’m sitting in a workshop, observing in the back, and I had to drive to Rosslyn. SCARY ROSSLYN. So I left an hour and a half early, even though the GPS indicated it would only take 20 minutes, and I started on my way with no problems until I saw that my exit was the same exit as THE PENTAGON. THAT SOUNDS LIKE SCARY DRIVING. So as I merged onto the ramp for the exit my mouth started watering and my stomach flipped.

I continued on and the navigation told me to exit right and stay to the left and I looked ahead and had no clue where I was and HOLY SHIT IS THIS THE LEFT IT MEANT? And it was and so everything was fine and I moderately loosened my grip. A little.

I obediently took the next right (THIS EXIT? IS THAT THE RIGHT?) and circled around and it all seemed ok until I dumped out right there, a block from my destination and HOLY SHIT CITY CITY CITY LOOK AT ALL THESE FUCKING CARS!!!! And I could see what I thought was the building and I maneuvered through traffic and THAT’S THE BUILDING I THINK  and then OMFG WHERE THE FUCK DO I PARK????  Then I spied a garage sign but it was blocked off “Full” and there were cars behind me so I passed the garage but there’s no street parking and WHERE THE FUCK DO I GO and then guess what?

I was back on the freeway, almost the same distance away as when I started from home and in a different direction.

Now my heart is pounding and my eyes are stinging and I start in with my standard irrational thoughts “I’ll just go home. Fuck this! I don’t need to do this! This is too much stress! Why the fuck did I say I’d do this?” but I reset the GPS to take me back to where I just was and this time there’s a lot of rush hour traffic and now you know why I leave an hour and a half early.

The drive was more of the same except this time I had to take a left lane exit and I won’t bore you with that horror, but I ultimately made it here, of course. And I pulled into that “Full” parking garage and the attendant said “it’s full” and I said “THEN WHERE THE FUCK DO I PARK ASSHOLE BECAUSE I AM NOT DRIVING HERE A THIRD TIME” except it came out like this “Can you please tell me if there’s another garage around here?” and he pointed directly across the street to the sign that read “Public Parking”.

Just for safe measure, I’ll leave an hour and half early again tomorrow morning. You never know.

Yes They’re Healthy Oatmeal Chocolate Chip “Cookies”

Essentially every time I have company or am invited as company somewhere else I bake. I like to bake, I’m pretty good at it and, let’s face it, I grew up with my Nana. Food = love, for better or worse. Also, essentially every time I bake the recipient asks me “Are these healthy? Are they low fat?”

Usually, no. See, I make that stuff at home for me but for guests? I prefer to offer up the most delicious option available and that often requires butter, eggs, and sugar.

But these? I promise, I would even make these for company. If I could stand to part with them myself!

Yes They’re Healthy Oatmeal Chocolate Chip “Cookies”

1 cup Old Fashioned rolled oats
2/3 cups oat flour (rolled oats in the food processor until a fine flour)
1 tsp baking powder
1/3 cup flax seed meal
1/4 tsp kosher salt
1/4 tsp cinnamon
1/3 cup Splenda
1/3 cup semisweet chocolate chips (you could sub raisins, or carob chips)
3 Tbs ANPB
1 tsp vanilla
1/3 cup water
2 Tbs extra light olive oil (can use canola, or vegetable, or coconut)

Preheat oven to 350. Mix everything in a bowl until it mostly sticks together in a ball. Spray a cookie sheet and form 12 balls and flatten. Bake for 12 minutes. Hoard for yourself or, if you’re nice, share!

For each cookie:
112 calories
6 g fat (the good kinds! um, except the chocolate chips. Shh)
10.6 g carb
2.3 g fiber
3.5 g protein

Posted via email from Amyella

Blug Past?

What are these things called? Oh right: blog post. Huh.

In an effort to avoid having to write anything poignant, let me share a short story about my dog.

Of course.

Kima and I were just finishing up our walk yesterday morning. It was about 6:30 in the a.m. and while most of the people I pass at that time are carrying briefcases and walking delicately in smart pumps, I'm wearing pajama pants tucked into rainboots, a puffy coat that comes down to my ankles, and a knit hat I got from the Old Navy kids' section. It's the only one that fits my head.

We were heading up the stairs and Kima had been pretty good for the duration of Operation Do Your Dog Doo, save for the constant sniffing. I don't know what was going on but she was sniff-sniff-sniffing the entire time! I simultaneously entertained myself and corrected her with quips like "Let's go Sniffy McGee" and "More pee pee, less sniff-ee." I'm so clever. And easily amused.

Anyway! To properly appreciate you have to envision our apartment complex. The external walkways are relatively narrow and every 20 or so feet is someone's front door. Kima was about one step in front of me.

Did you see the movie Signs? It was kind of like that. Without the aliens. I mean, it could only have happened at that precise moment with the perfect alignment of circumstances: Kima on our neighbor's welcome mat, him opening his door. When that happened she, naturally, turned her head as if he was welcoming her inside.

So at 6:30 in the morning as our stout, friendly neighbor was leaving for work he opened the door and was greeted with a bear poking her nose into his apartment. Or that's what it probably looked like.

I can't explain to you the way his scream sounded. It was pure, uncensored terror. He even threw his hands up in the air, I swear to God.

It only took a second for him to realize what was going on, with me apologizing profusely and ushering her ahead while she wiggled her nub. As I turned toward our door I heard him mocking himself and laughing. Thankfully.

That is too much excitement that early in the morning. I can't wait to live in a house.

Posted via email from Amyella

Everybody Hates That Guy

Gooood morning, y'all!

I have approximately 7,000 emails to create, test, and launch in Eloqua this morning but before I get to all that I thought I'd give you some blog lovin'.

We had dinner with my cousin, her husband, and the baby last night. I don't know what happens at that 3 month mark, but my baaaaaabeeeee is already looking like a little boy!! So alert, looking around and reacting, and holy hell those CHEEKS! I nibbled on his cheeks for dessert. They were delicious. They are coming over this weekend to watch the playoffs and join us in some Beatles Rock Band so I will have an entire afternoon of babylicious. Yum.

This morning I witnessed the following things on I-395:
-a beat up, windowless van that looked like it could very well be in the high ranks of an "I'm the guy your mother warned you about" operation
-the vanity license plate MATH PHD. It's true that women cannot resist a man with a PhD in math. Way to go, dude!
-a gentleman who may have been practicing for the Olympic event of nose picking

Also this morning I was the accidental asshole. I had just begun my drive and approached the main left turn off our side street and was greeting to flowing traffic right through the green light. With no hint of a back up I followed through the intersection, with the light still green, and without warning found myself at the tail end of a clusterfuck of traffic. I didn't see it coming, but cars were backed up from the next light and I was stuck dead in the middle of the intersection just knowing that the lights were going to turn and I was going to be that asshole trying to make my left turn but stuck in the middle of the road, blocking the flow of traffic.

I was totally THAT guy – that asshole. But it was an accident! As cars were trying to maneuver around me and I desperately hoped the light ahead would change so I could AT LEAST GET INTO A LANE, ASSHOLE I wanted to explain to every irritated driver around me that I KNOW I KNOW! I agree with you! I didn't mean to! I'm the asshole but it was an accident! I thought commiserating with the commuters around me by honking the horn at myself, flipping myself off angrily, and making an overly exaggerated gesture of shrugging my shoulder with a look on my face as if to say "What was I thinking?!"

But that would've just made me the crazy asshole.

Posted via email from Amyella


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AMYELLA

Amyella (pronounced Amy-ella) is a pseudonym for Amy Levitt, a fitness and health food fanatic and a beach girl at heart. She has been sharing her sometimes nonsensical thoughts and self-amusing stories online since 2002 and currently spends a good deal of her time wrangling her 90 pound Rottweiler and 60 pound Boxer. Which is quite a show.
The origin of the name Amyella.

Here's my deal. It's wicked exciting!

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