Blue Plate Special of Conviction.

My friend Andi filled me in on a little piece of goodness in my journey to being healthy. the sloooow, tedious, monotonous, mymusclesache, is it really worth it to give up my beloved french fries, I miss Dr. Pepper, I GAINED weight this week, Lord please help me not to go to Sweet Stuff Bakery today kind of journey.


Did I mention that eating "right" and working out are two of my favorite things in the world to do?

So I had a good laugh this morning waiting in my gmail inbox and I just gots tah share with yas.




May we all be inspired to get in shape even when the only thing we want to Shred is some chicken for an enchilada.


Wha? Nobody else had that thought?





Meh.




It is from the book "Perfect Weight America" by Jordan Rubin:

With apologies to King David, I now offer you the Dieter's Psalm, based on Psalm 23:

Stict is my diet. I must not want

It maketh me lie down at night hungry.

It leadeth me past the confectioners.

It trieth my willpower.

It leadeth me in the paths of alteration for my figure's sake.

Yea, though I walk through the aisles of the pastry department,

I will buy no sweet rolls, for they are fattening.

The cakes and the pies, they tempt me.

Before me is a table set with green beans and lettuce.

I filleth my stomach with liquids.

My day's quota runneth over.

Surely calorie and weight charts will follow me all the days of my life,

And I will dwell in fear of the scales forever.

That Girl Plays Susie Homemaker.

UPDATE:
BCR8iv--
Just another reason I *should" get a Mac! Taking pics, too. How cool would a Photobooth post be once a week?

************************************************************************




So does your bank do a recipe inside of the paper money holder they hand you?

I am pretty sure the bank must get a cut of the local grocery store's profits, because whenever I get my little paper money holder with the recipe in it, I act like I have turned into a combination of Emeril, Rachael Ray, and Martha Stewart. All of a sudden I think I am a gourmet chef and I.must.get.to.the.market where I will be strangely random ingredients I will use one time every, oh, twelve years or so, and create a feast that very few people will appreciate. All of a sudden I have blown a lot of said money on trying to become the classy lady with the apron and pearls who can make dog food look appetizing. The same feeling occurs when they turn me loose on this site.

There are other blogs where the ladies take sweet photos of their creative cuisine and can go ahead and tell you that everyone within a fifty-mile radius enjoyed the fruits of their labor, and I know those nice ladies are more able to be trusted with a culinary roll of the dice.

Bloggerotsky, I have no excuse. Frankly, I am not even sure if I could fit a camera into my Polly Pocket-sized kitchen.

I wish I was that cool. But you come here for That Girl. When you go to blogs from great cooks, you are looking for pure food amazingness. When you come here, you are looking to feel acceptance. Acceptance that you are not, in fact, Giada de Laurentiis, you can't make those wretched mozzarella sticks that she said were soooo easy and everyone in your friend group at college still makes fun of you to this day about stinking up the house with burned cheesesticks and you may not have the gift of hospitality and furthermore, you find yourself wondering how can you trust a skinny Italian.

Not that I'm like that at all.

Regardless, you are accepted here. Just like Jimmy Needham says, "Child, you are forgiven and loved." Especially for that one time you saw Giada after she had her baby and wondered if she had a special camera that took away ten pounds.

Whatever you need to get to sleep.



Mostly I am giving you this recipe for one reason. I am trying to keep Francesca the Ford Focus waaay more decluttered than Darla the Daewoo was (God rest her mighty soul). In that pursuit, I realized that I had been hanging on to a money holder because it had the ultra deluxe recipe in it. Now I have yet to have a recipe box because of the aforementioned Polly Pocket-sized kitchen. I kept hanging onto it with the hope of getting the gusto to sit down and copy it out on an index card.
If I do that, where do I put the index card? The rest of the apartment is just as Polly Pocket as the kitchen, so the realization for me was I will end up throwing the recipe card away on one of my crazy cleaning binges.*


Instead, I have decided to blog it in case I ever get The Hankering for a lovely dinner involving what my BBF Jami and I call "Boar-beque" in her secret language.


Here it is.

I need a catchy title so once you look at the recipe, why don't you try to come up with a good one? The winner will get...uh...the thrill of victory just like on the Wide World of Sports. And a blog shout-out.

I know, my prizes are great too! Too bad I don't have any Polly Pockets to give. Should have kept that one that embedded itself into my foot when I was babysitting K,H, and E.

Without further ado:

______________________________ or Barbecued Chicken Salad Sandwiches

1 1/2 lbs skinless, boneless chicken breast halves
Barbecue sauce (I prefer this kind)

1 c. mayonnaise (don't use that miracle whip. Do us a favor-bring out the hellman's this time and bring out the best!)
1/2 c. finely chopped onion (I so hate it when they use words like 'finely chopped' because I am easily overwhelmed with the mounting pressure)
1/2 c. chopped celery (good. so glad I don't have to finely chop two things)
1/4 t. salt
1/4 t. crushed red pepper flakes ( if you are like me in your lack of a spice rack, you can substitute cayenne, just use a little less...)
8 tomato slices
8 lettuce leaves



Put the uncooked chicken in a Ziploc with some barbecue. Shake it silly until the BBQ coats the chicky and let it sit overnight. Grill the chicky, covered, over medium-hot heat for 6-8 minutes or until the juices run clear (starting to get overwhelmed again--how do I knw when it's medium-hot heat?). Cool, cover, and refrigerate chicky until chilled. Then chop the chicky.


(Confession: I don't have a grill (Ha! Where would I put one??). So I will boil that fowl and shred it. Then I will place it in the fridge until it's chilled. I will place it in a Ziploc and coat with BBQ by shaking it silly. Don't add too much BBQ if you are doing it grill-less because later we will still add some mayo and you don't want it to get too saucy. Because then it would really be a That Girl special.)


Hey! This is kind of like those Choose Your Own Adventure books that Sethy loved as a kiddo.
Whether you choose the regular recipe or the I-don't-have-a-grill-version, a key part of this meal is that once you put the chicky in the Ziploc with the BBQ, you better SEAL the bag before you shake it silly. Otherwise you could have a That Girl Moment-sized mess on your hands and all over your respective Polly Pocket kitchen.
Also, a note on shaking it silly: the more you shake, the more cals you burn which means you might work off enough to have seconds.

Either way you go, the sandwich wraps up like this:

Place the chicky in a bowl. Stir in the mayo, onion (finely chopped), celery, salt, and pepper flakes. Serve on rolls with tomato and lettuce. I recommend that cute ciabatta bread or silver-dollar buns if you got a bunch of Hungry Hankerers to feed. And as far as I am concerned, NO BBQ meal is complete without a few AWESOME dill pickles over the top of it.
Hope you enjoy and don't forget to name this recipe.

I'm off to put that money holder in the trash can now.





*you should really come dumpster-diving in the OC after one of those cleaning times.

Chopsticks.

The first time I tried sushi, I was hooked. For all of you that are cringing right now, don't knock it 'til you try it.



(please. for the love of california rolls.)



Anyway, I was at this fab restaurant in Greenville, SC-I can't remember the name of it and I'm too lazy to facebook my friends and see-but it was a real good day in the history of That Girl. However, that magic moment meant that it was finally do-or-die time when it came to the utensils of choice for sushi: the dreaded chopsticks.



I have been trying to use those dagnabbed pieces of wood since I was a little kid. There I was, in all my eggroll wonton glory, with the two sticks, banging them together like I was preparing to play the timpani or something. It did not make sweet dinner music to my parents, who were either secretly afraid I would let go and somebody's eye would get shot out a la Ralphie or afraid that a stray lo mein noodle would fly across the room, hitting another poor hapless patron in the face.



As you all can probably guess, I was not the most coordinated kid on Route 4. Whatever, my dream was to master the chopstick usage.



I went to eat sushi in Greenville and was forced into the deep end of the chopstick pool without my floaties. ACK. I didn't know which move to make but trusted my sushi companions to show me the tempura way. I studied every move they made, and followed it to a tee. I tried not to act like I had never actually used the chopsticks correctly, but since I was always a step behind, and I never like to wait around when it comes to eating,

they must have known.





One strange and glorious move I picked up quickly was the art of rubbing the two chopsticks together in the middle. I didn't ask why because I didn't want to be exposed, so I just kept my mouth shut about it and did as they did.



When in Rome...or Greenville...



Ever since then I have been a chopstick fan. I won't lie, I feel cool that I am finally coordinated enough to use two chopsticks in harmony to bring Asian-infused delightfulness to my mouth. Just don't ask me to chew gum at the same time.



After church service last Sunday, I went out with a few members of our community for some lunch. My friend Rita asked me why I rubbed my two chopsticks together.





For a minute, I was "got."



I was so caught off-guard that I don't even remember how I answered her question. All I know is that Seth swooped in to save the day with a good answer-at least it sounded good to me-regarding splinters. I sat there, dumbfounded. I had this habit and didn't even understand why I repeated it.





How often do our relationships with God mirror the chopstick incident? We continue to do certain things, maybe even with a complete lack of understanding when it comes to why. We spend a lot of our days holding fast to things when Jesus just wants to be the One to which we cling. Phrases like, "This is the way we have always done it" and "That's just tradition" are sometimes uttered, and not just by the Church as a whole. In our journeys with Jesus, how many times do we think "If I word my prayer this way, then I will get the results I desire?"



Our chopsticks grate together and we don't know why.



I love tradition. In fact, I grew up in a very liturgical worship environment. I value hymns and liturgy and order and I find great beauty in that. However, if I just made a habit out of it, it would lose meaning. Same thing would happen if I just lifted my hands during a rockin' worship song because that's what I am supposed to do.



Jesus talked about this to his disciples once. In Mark 9, Jesus casts out a demon from a little boy, and the disciples approach Him: they also tried to cast it out to no avail.



I have to tell you, I probably would have been right there with them. The Palestinian Wrestling Team, as my friend Matt calls them. The Sons of Thunder and The Rock. Clueless as all getout, much like me in my chopstick stupor. They had seen Jesus pray over people quite a few times, and they had probably studied His every move and every word. When it didn't work, they came to him sheepishly behind closed doors to see what part of the equation they had missed.



Too often we have more faith in the way things are done than in the One who does them. So we don't understand, and our faces crinkle when we are questioned. Sometimes we even grow defensive. When we can't explain it, maybe it's time to reevaluate.



After all, if there is a valid reason to rub my chopsticks together profusely, I will be That Girl at Table #9 at the Crazy Buffet appearing to make fire over my bowl of wasabi and soy. If there isn't, then maybe it's time to quit trying to earn my Boy Scout Wilderness badge at Lin's Garden. In all seriousness, consider the traditions and actions you take in your relationship with Christ. When we trade in our ways of doing things for His way, and join with Him on whatever He's already doing, we will see His glory fall in ways we cannot even imagine. Or we can keep rubbing our chopsticks together and get mad when we begs the question "Why?"





Enjoy doing things when you KNOW they are the heart of Christ. But don't miss a blessing because you are stuck in a rut, because all along, Jesus has been whispering to us: Cling to Me tighter than you cling to your own ideas and traditions.





Remind me of that if you see me ordering the sushi.

Friday (Pineapple) Tidbits.

*****Update*****
I just got my mail and received a Bath & Body Works gift card from Sheila and Amanda Heshelman. What a red-letter day. Thank you girls! I love you both very much. HOORAY! Our bathroom soap has almost run out, so perfect timing :D

• Dr. Barber is my hero today.

He's letting us out at 2pm for Memorial Day weekend!

• And even better, tonight we are going to Outback with Seth's parents and grandparents (who I LOVE LOVE LOVE--they are all precious and Patti, his mama, always gets me the cutest surprises too!) for dinner for his dad Tom's birthday.

I always get the steak and veggie griller--which is so incredibly deluxe and not too bad on the waistline, either. It's pieces of steak with mushrooms, grilled pineapple, peppers, and onions on a bed of rice. Isn't that good and good for me?!


well, unless you count the bloomin' onion.
ack.

• F-R-I-D-A-Y. It's my favorite day, OH MY! It's Friday, Friday, Friday, Friday!

It's the little things, isn't it Bloggerotsky?

• Hug a veteran at church and tell him or her you are thankful to live in this beautiful land with a right to live, laugh, and love as you wish.

• I did walk to the post office and back with Nicole on my lunch break. One small step for That Girl...

• Thinking about starting the Shred. Although I am pretty sure after a couple of days I will call it the Dread.

• I am going to be in Loogootee on THIS Saturday night at New Beginnings Church. The church meets on the street where the Post Office is located. It's a women's event (sorry to the two men reading..) and it begins at 6:30 PM. I look forward to seeing you and your friends there! It will be a very fun night!!

• I am so thankful to all of you who called and emailed and asked to help me in my goal to get rid of that idol called food. I covet your prayers as I start this scary journey and I ask in return for my vulnerability that you would find people with whom you can be transparent. God is going to do abundantly more...Hold on to your fork--figuratively speaking, of course.

I love you all more than waterslides and bratwursts.

{That's a lot for Memorial Day weekend.}

God and That Girl in Checkout Line.

So I went to the grocery today intent on buying some quality food. So I bought greens, some dairy, and lots of fruit and nuts.

I avoided my "trouble aisles" and pretty much anything that wasn't on the perimeter, like all the weight-loss gurus say to do.


And as I was pulling my cart into my friend Marion's check out line, I looked down at my cart, pleased with the plethora of color and health that would soon be filling my fridge and my body.


Then I heard God speak as clearly as I have heard him in months.

"It's all well and good to eat better foods. But if you really want to get healthy, we need to deal with this food addiction you have."



You see, food has been one of my "golden calves" or an idol that takes the place of where Jesus needs to be in my life. Sometimes if I am sad, or afraid, or upset, or missing my mom, or happy, or excited, or nervous, I head to the cupboard or the freezer for the comfort I need instead of opening my Bible, turning on some praise music, or talking to God.

Because of this, my lifestyle is unhealthy and my body, the Temple of the Most High God, scripture says, is not glorifying God. Granted, Jesus tells us it's not what goes in that makes us polluted but what comes out. However, eventually what we put into our minds, bodies, and spirits is going to come out into our lives.

When I did the No Other Gods study last semester with the OCU Women's Bible Study last year, God began showing me that I could no longer go at the pace I was going ministry-wise, pursue my passions, love my family well, and be a good wife and mom someday unless I chose to give up the idol of food in my life.

It's many moons later, and still, That Girl, That Girl two-by-four can barely fit into her pants anymore. Something's gotta give. (Providence girls are hoping it's not the button on my gauchos!)

This has very little to do with outward appearances and much more to do with the state of the heart. God wants a relationship with us no matter what size we are. And I'm convinced that those people I love don't really care what the scale reads as long as I am healthy and happy.

It has more to do with my relationship with Jesus and how I don't want anything, not even a freaking blessed bonbon, getting in the way of knowing Him and He knowing me.

So I am asking you to pray for me, Bloggerotsky. I need the power of Christ to overcome my addiction to food so that God is honored in every single part of who I am, not just the parts that are already surrendered. Right now I am working on developing some good habits, but mostly I will hopefully be using A LOT of prayer and reliance on Jesus. I expect an all-out war from the enemy, so a little battle would be a nice surprise. However, I have allowed the Enemy a stronghold in my life for many years now and it will take lots of work, trial, error, and forgiveness through God's grace to overcome.

I imagine it will also take a few more checkout line conversations between The Big Guy and That Girl.

The Land of Reality.

uh, I don't know if you watch Barefoot Contessa (aka Ina Garten) on Food Network, but on her cooking show, she is doing a series called "Back to Basics."


I was compelled to write this blog when on one of the editions of Back to Basics, she mentions her love of truffle butter and proceeds to use it in her basic recipe (to be fair the episode was about using the oven to cook, whether with low or high heat).


Truffle.Butter.
trufflebutter.
truffle (pigs dig for me and I am expensive) butter...


Okay, Miss Ina. I love ya but TRUFFLE BUTTER is not a basic ingredient for me. Or anyone else I know, for that matter. I am sure truffles are delightful and given what Masaharu Morimoto does with them on Iron Chef America, I am sure they might even be life-changing when I sit down to them (when Jesus is cooking and I can actually afford them), but they are not a basic ingredient for the people of southern Indiana. Here in the land of reality, the only truffle that sees the light of day are those fancy Lindor truffles that have chocolate inside.



Hope your day is Truffle-licious!