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All week it’s yogurt, cheerios, salads, soups and then BAM! The weekend throws my normally decent diet into a tailspin.  Burgers, beers, tacos … oh the Mexican food.  Speaking of which, there is no shortage of here in L-Dub.  I love it.  It was the foodstuff I missed the most while overseas.  Nobody gives out free chips and salsa like America!!!  Holla!

There are all sorts of Mexican dives around the hood, and I love that a lot of them have the ‘walk up’ factor – order your food, leave, sit, whatever you want.  Los Cabos/Lupitas, the Taco Lady, Havanas, Don Ramon’s, Zapatas, Tacos al Carbon … seriously, all this in one ZIP code.  It’s amazing.  Havana has a kickin’ cafe con leche, plus it’s open 24 hours a day.  Don Ramon’s ropa vieja hits the spot.  Tacos al Carbon, can’t go wrong.  And this weekend I was finally able to try Los Cabos Mexican Grill/Lupitas, and it was, of course, awesome.  There’s a walk-up window you order from and if you want to sit, there are a handful of tables out front.

What more could I ask for?!  Maybe 30 more minutes at the gym 🙂

It’s that time.  Season, as those in the restaurant world might say.  The birds are back.  Not these birds, fortunately, rather the South Florida Birds.  The white-haired, Estee Lauder-perfume-smelling birds.  The birds that forget to use their blinker and tend to always ride in the left lane.  Yes.  Those birds.  They’re not all bad birds, of course. 

JP propsed the question, “Would you pledge to never visit New York, if that meant one person (i.e., snowbird) couldn’t come to Florida in the winter?”  Since I’ve already been to New York, and the only person I know who lives there doesn’t live there anymore (NYGirl4EVA moved to Jersey! Ha!), I think my answer might be … yes?

In any event, the birds are also a sign of good things — holiday cheer, colorful lights, fattening foodstuffs, Publix commercials that make me cry.  The usual suspects.  With Thanksgiving over, it’s just a hop-skip away until Christmas … then NYE … then JP’s birthday ….  The pah-tay never stops, huh?

In a relationship, you often do things by default of being with that other person.  Not that you hate it.  Not that you love it.  But, you do it because you like being in a relationship with that person – and that’s what they are into.  Like going to watch The Proposal when you feel neither romantic or comedic.  Or stopping for lunch at a sushi restaurant – when you don’t eat sushi.  Or dieting.  

I’ve been on a diet by default for four – or is it five? – weeks now.  The Pace household has been eating on the leaner side these days.  Given the humidity down here, I can’t imagine why we’re not just sweating off the pounds.  I was never much into saunas.  Anywho, we’ve been eating whole wheat everything, eggs, turkey, cheese, fruit, flaxseed….  The list goes on.  And ice cream, cookies & cakes of any sort haven’t touched our kitchen in awhile now.  (Well, ok, I did sneak a small package of Maria biscuits in the grocery cart last week.)  The upside is that JP is doing a lot of cooking these days.  He’s even taken to dish duty more than usual – which I wholeheartedly appreciate.  (Dishes suck.  But I can’t stand to see them in the sink at night, so I must do them before I go to bed every night.)  And, the diet seems to be working.  For JP, at least.  Me?  I’m trying not to count anything…

However, I cheated recently.  On my diet, that is.   In a moment of weakness, I grabbed some food to go at Wendy’s.  Come on, who can ignore the vanilla frosty!?  And when the fries are good – they’re goood.  It was so gross and good at the same time.  I’ve decided this is why fast food exists – to let us know that we’re human and can succumb to the marketing powers that be at food chain companies, and at the same time, make us appreciate real, fresh food.

After I received my food, I thought, “Should I tell JP?”  No.  I’m sooo cheating right now.  Damn, this french fry tastes good.  But, not really.  But, I’ll have one more just to be sure.  Ugh, it’s sooo salty.  Salt is good.  Maybe I should go to the gym today?  Wait, I don’t go to the gym.  I mean, do 2 visits in the last month count as “going” anywhere?  I’ll just take the stairs up instead of the lift.  That’ll do.        

 

So, that was my moral dilema of the week.  

Switching topics, it’s imperative that you all go buy Regina Spektor’s new album, Far.  I actually listened to the entire album on NPR, then picked up the CD on Sunday afternoon.  (Yes, I actually bought a CD.  Unwrapped the plastic carelessly, pulled out the disc carefully, and put it in the CD player lovingly.)

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