Need to catch up; but i'm tired and yoga comes early

Here's what's on my mind at 11:22 pm this Friday evening

Thankful for a husband who is quite generous. . . and fun. (at all hours of the day and night, especially today, and tonight . . . and if I get lucky, tomorrow . . .)

***

My little 4 yr old niece was in surgery on Wed nite after a trampoline accident. Maybe I'll share more later, but it was a hard lesson learning that she's no longer invincible -- apparently only Marky Mark gets that role . . . and you have to be a football player in Wisconsin -- no wait, Danny just corrected me -- Philly, the Eagles.

***

Sometimes, even as adorable as my husband is, he listens to really crappy music AND watches even crappier late night sit coms -- have you ever seen "Still Standing"? Exactly . . . you probably have more than 4 channels (except for Marissa, she only had one channel last I checked.) Praise for Keeping up with the Jones'.

***
This week, I learned that no matter how much I want to be in the welcome graces of PETA, I don't like vegetarian nachos.

***

Max (my nephew) is currently being potty trained. He just turned 2 last month. Do you think it's in his best interest to call his big boy underoos "panties?" And if that's ok, what about using Tatum's left over Princess Barbie Pull-ups for night time control? It this a type for the future? Maybe I'm just being sensitive because "pride week" advertisements are up all over this town .. . "Not that there's anything wrong with that."

***

I hate the radio, but i love Reo Speedwagon and Foreigner and Journey so it's almost a toss up.

***

Works good.
Life's decent.
I weigh 4 pounds less in the morning than I do at 11:22 pm.
No one died in south central LA, I gotta say, today was a good day. . . (Bless Ice Cube's sweet little heart).

ssm

I'm tired . . . Thank Goodness tis Friday

My legs and feet are aching; I have some sort of odd cough that feels like an itch in my throat from allergies and I can tell I need more fruits and veggies in my diet.

Happy 4:20 everyone . . . Danny and I will not be lighting any blunts tonight; we practice Earth Day, at least that's what Diane Sawyer has us thinking about -- "We are energy gluttons." It's true. It takes so much friggin energy just to be me.

****

I took 6 flights in 5 days this week.. Have you seen those Marriott commercials about the "road warriors?" that's me . . . travel kills me; especially when it's just for work, not so much for fun.

****

Melissa (Lowder's) birthday party was tonight . . . it was like my 10-year highschool reunion, I just needed Sarah Stohl there and some of the other gals I played V-ball with and it would have been perfect...

****

I need Shavasana...

Namaste. Good night and good luck.

c'est moi

Rocky Mao-uhn High

Hello my pretties from DIA.

What a week. Monday and Tuesday in Utah’s Dixie.
Wednesday in Elko – central to everywhere, close to nowhere.
And Thursday & tomorrow – Denver. It’s a quick business trip; but quite delightful. My flight touched down around 3:30 or so… I finally got to my hotel room at 4:45. Needless to say, hotel shuttles do not travel at a New York minute.

My quest to not eat anything with a face is not going so well. . . I got sooo tired of chicken, but I found myself eating a turkey sandwich in Elko . . . not an interesting story so I’ll spare you the details.

Celeste, my younger sister, lives in Denver with her boyfriend Jerome . . . they’ve been together well over a year, and I still don’t know his last name. . . we went to dinner at the Paramount Café. It was noisy; and there were two Heinekin (sp?) Girls walking around trying to get ppl to taste their light beer variety. It didn’t thrill me at all . . . I mean, I didn’t try the beer; but the whole philosophy of a Heinekin girl. Especially because I would think they would try and talk to men in their little skimpy outfits; but they kept trying to pawn off the beer to ladies.

Also, I was having problems breathing by the end of the meal because I ate too much. I read in this yoga book that one Yogi Guru said that when you eat, use ½ your stomach for food, ¼ for water, and the last fourth for breathing. . . Unfortunately, I think I used 7/8 for food, and filled the last eighth with water . . . I seriously could not get a deep breath, and then I got the hiccups! Like a fatty cartoon from the Disney Channel. . .. at least I didn’t see Pink elephants on parade.

****Big news for the suite-mangums . . DANNY GOT A PROMOTION!!!! We are so rich, we can finally afford to pay tithing. ;)

Also, we’re speaking in church on Sunday; and trying to put together and ice cream social for our church. . . any ideas send em our way. I thought it sounded like a brilliant idea to usher in springtime, and BAM! Hail and snowstorms along the Wasatch Front. Score: Weather 1 Sabrena Z-E-R-O.

We’re gearing up for our European Vacation . . . we take off on May 8th. I have been practising (that may be a more “across the pond" kind of spelling, but you get the gist of it) my Frenchie a lot lately. I gave up freedom fries last week, and started eating the real thing from Mickey-D’s. (I kid, I kid). Also, I am trying to have as many pastries as possible so my body won’t go through a sugar/carb shock once I get to the land of revolution. I am also looking into making buttons that say, “I may be American, but I don’t like my president either.” Or perhaps a nice T-shirt.. . .

Well, I just wanted to check-in.
ssm


post script. I think it's spelled SHAVASANA!!!!!

Sunday Dessert

Not a lot to report today -- just wanted to check in for Sanity's sake (she's been a coveted friend of mine for some time) . . . although we don't spend quite the Q.T. with one another we ought to (at least, I'm sure that's what our friendly neighborhood mental health professional would recoomend).

I had a great dinner at Sage's Cafe Friday night with Danny and my Sister Cassandra and her husband Wade. Our favored yoga instructor, Jami, works there and I tried Buckwheat noodles for the first time in my life. I think I'm going to steer clear of eating things with souls for a bit . . . especially yard bird. I've adopted Jami as my new personal guru (she doesn't know that yet, so that may make me more of a stalker than a student). . . but she's just so happy and fully of light. I think she's really adopted the path of enlightenment.

Danny bought a grill on Saturday -- so he's feeling a testosterone rush like no man can until he too puts together an 87-piece cooking machine. He made steaks for our dinner this evening with Cassandra's family. We had lots of fresh veggies and fruits . . . it was really nice. And then we went to Temple Square with our niece and nephew . . . Max (age 2) was especially upset that he couldn't get into the temple . . . so much so that he stopped dead in his tracks while we were walking between varieties of tulips, clenched his fists, shook them and shouted "temple!!!" cursing the sky like a cartoon character who had just been outdone by his nemesis.

It was actually pretty adorable.

Anything else to report?

*First headstand in yoga. . .literally turned my world upside down this weekend
*Got some great advice from a friend who said that things would get before they get worse... and to "hang in there." (It was actually kind of sweet . . . gave me warm fuzzies and the like).

Oh, using my dad's computer and he just got home . . . feel like I'm in Jr high and "Daddy's" going to catch me on the phone after my 10 pm phone curfew.

CHEERS!
ssm

Still Can't Keep Quiet for Chivasana (this isn't funny, just contemplative)

Tonight at yoga I kept my eyes open the entire "sacred rest" period. I kept envisioning myself as Zach Braff in the opening scene of Garden State when he's lying in his bed staring at the ceiling as his dad leaves a voice message about his mom dying in the bathtub.

It's all very depressing. . . but I wasn't depressed at yoga. It's just the ceiling was so still (much more still than my brain), and I didn't feel like communing with much else. . . there was something eerily intoxicating about that giant yellow orb above my head. . . I couldn't stop staring at it. I kept thinking about my day, and how Danny and I are planning an ice-cream social for our ward/church/whatever you want to call it. . . and well, just life in general. Where I want to go, what I want to be. . . all mixed in with that soft yellow light from the giant sphere above my relaxed and corpse-like body.

It's amazing what your mind dreams up when someone tells you to think of nothing. The thing is, I think yoga keeps me sane. . . Because even if I can't think if nothing . . . sometimes I just pray. . . and I wonder if my God finds humor that a little Mormon girl is praying to Him while she's practicing a piece of hindu religion.

It's all very beautiful I think. God must laugh a lot; I mean how could he not be cracking up about this cosmic joke we call life. . . For all of its beauty, and its heartache, it's merits, rewards, and sorrow. . . It's a pretty incredible thing (life). But I'm still really glad my belief system entitles me to hold to the idea (and reality if you want to get philosopical), that it gets better.

All these years, plenty of therapists and life coaches all saying the same thing . . . telling me my busy mind would benefit from yoga. Then again, a lot of people told me I would benefit from sex too.

Amazing the wisdom that can be found in the majority.

Namaste and good night.

Tuesdays with Sabrena

Random thoughts for today’s entry. . . .

*******************
If you don’t like the movie The Royal Tennenbaums, you are either:
a) Really spiritual and therefore cannot connect with the humor
-or-
b) Just need to watch it a few more times to see it for its true genius

post script. If you answered “a,” you’re obviously not very humble, and therefore not as spiritually sound as you think. That said, YOU SHOULD REPENT . . . but first watch Royal Tennenbaums because it’s rated-R, and you’ll have to repent for watching it eventually anyway. Might as well get all those sins wiped away at once.

********************
I noticed last night at the Gold’s Gym pool that all the people who lap swim are pretty much a bunch of fatties. All of the skinny bikini bods hang out in the adjacent Jacuzzi where they can show off their bangin’ figures – they do not spend time water-waddling. Unfortunately, I do not hang out in the Jacuzzi – ever. When it comes to water and the gym, I am always in the pool -- exercising with the other fatties. I don’t know exactly what I ought to glean from this observation . . . but I’m pretty sure it’s the same conclusion I come to after getting on the scale or shopping for a swim suit some place wretched with fluorescent lighting like the former Copper Rivet.

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

Have you ever noticed that people who say “titles don’t matter” are usually people with titles that DO matter? Like, when was the last time you heard a $10-an-hour employee say, “Man, titles don’t mean a thing to me. I just want the right person in the right job. It’s all about finding the right fit.” (this comment is much funnier if you say it with an accdent like Cheech and Chong) Exactly my point. . .

post script. Although Brandi Honey may be the exception to this rule . . . she really doesn’t think titles matter – to her everyone is equal. My theory on this one stems from the Enneagram . . . . if no-one has a title, than no-one is officially in charge. And if no one is officially in charge, the playing field is leveled and there are opportunities aplenty.

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

I can’t hear the phrase “internal relations” with out cracking a smile.

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

Ordering a cran-apple juice from the flight attendant on a turbulent flight from Saint George to Salt Lake when you’re wearing a white shirt is like unto the war in Iraq. . . a selfish leadership decision with no exit strategy that you’re going to regret even if it looks like there might be an end in sight. (I’m just saying, maybe Dub-ya should’ve ordered water.)

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

Songs with Odd Titles
• I wanna be your Joey Ramone. (Now defunct indie riot grrrrl outfit “Sleater-Kinney”
• I wanna be your Yoko Ono. (I think this was that Canadian band Bear Naked Ladies)

Which leads me to my last point . . . when I’ve said the phrase “Bear Naked Ladies” in the past, images of pin-up dolls have never crossed my mind. . .. but a bear in the wilderness attacking a Mounty (Mountie?sp?) has.

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

And with that I leave you to ponder and respond. . . . Have I mentioned I friggin love “comments?”


Until next when ever,

Sabrena Mangum (nee Suite)

Rachel Ray Has a Warrant for My Arrest -or- How I Destroyed a Dinner Parrty with Kosher Salt

Danny’s computer is really slow. I like to use it because it makes me feel all hip and cool like I’m part of Generation Y; even though my husband downloads all my music from iTunes and I remember when MySpace was called “Friendster.”

Anyway, as promised “a little ditty bout jack-n up my angel food cake.” (please sing that last line to the tune of John Cougar Melencamp’s “Life Goes On.” I can wait . . . ah, that’s nice.

OK, so apparently kosher salt is like “Na“ on steroids. It’s like the kryptonite of salt. WHOA! Did you know if you miss-spell ckryptonite; like say with a “c” instead of a “k” it automatically changes it for you?!?!? WOW, Steve Jobs is sooooo hip. He’d be my hero except he doesn’t give 90% or more of his earnings to charity like that Microsoft dude; or Warren Buffet.

You know, people definitely notice if you use Warren Buffet and Jimmy Buffet interchangeably; because they have a lot less in common than one might imagine. I mean, I’m sure Warren Buffet digs a cheeseburger in paradise and all, but those two are drastically different. If you don’t believe me, just google their pictures – or their world views.

So back to the salt lick cake, as Danny so eloquently put it. The moral of the story is I had created this amazing menu:

Appetizers: My (almost) world famous hot artichoke dip with chips and martinellis so we could feel like swanky mormons.
1st Course: Pineapple and Grapefruit slush with frozen blueberries, and a lime twist
2nd Course: Arugala and spinach salad with roasted beets, toasted almond slivers and feta cheese with a home made Dijon lemon and garlic dressing (yes, I minced the fresh garlic myself)
3rd course: The sweet and sour chicken that gave birth to an orange and some baby kumkwats because I failed to tie its legs together appropriately and thus with chicken # 2 I had to improvise . . . I was just grateful my mint-dental floss did not sep into the juices of bird #2. (Also, praise to “Q” for working at Kenny Rogers Roasters. He cut that roasted chicken like . . . well, I can’t even describe it. But I think it mirrored one of the scenes I have to hold my hand over my eyes for in Braveheart.)
Dessert:
Well, it was supposed to be my delightful homemade angel foodcake with strawberry compote and fresh whipped cream. I separated 10 egg whites from the bunch and whipped those suckers to perfection. But the dang kosher salt tricked me with it’s Herculean strength and after I had cut everyone’s pieces I decided to take one little crumb to taste.

As we said in the 80s, “GAG ME WITH A CHAINSAW!”
It was horrible! Absolutely wretched. . . . and no one believed me when I told them not to eat it because of my natural self-deprecating personality they thought I was just being overly judge-mental!!! So I had to watch as all our guest took a bite anyway and about gagged as well. I was devastated. But I was laughing hysterically because it really was so awful, and felt like a scene from some sort of Bridget Jones prequel or something. So I’m laughing so hard I’m crying and the temperament of the party has changed a little bit.

Danny said I put the other wives at ease, and it made me look a little more human; but I still would’ve preferred perfection.

Guess I’ll have to leave that piece to Rosario.

Until next time.
Ssm

Post script. I got two comments! And so between the two posts that means 3 more people! Everyone rejoice in the gang! I am well on my way to a friends circle like unto P.Diddy on MySpace (act now and you can join his 3000 person network).

Double post script. Spence, I need your link so everyone can read your blog about the Democrat Clone Army. . . . one of the funniest things I’ve ever read in my life!

Holy Friggin’ Fabulous Easter Sunday weekend, batman!

I’d like to think the weekend officially kicked off to a tremendous start on Friday afternoon when I had a business lunch at Bambara. While the cuisine is always lovely (a bit pretentious, yes but lovely nonetheless), I must say it’s their Bluberry lemonade that really has me singing its praises.

Once I put my work day to an official close, Danny* I and went shopping for Saturday night’s dinner party. (Note, in case you did not read in the sidebar. . . Danny is my husband; I am very taken; but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends . . . or at least it shouldn’t keep you from reading my blog. I need all the support I can get).

Anyway, all these years of fantasizing about hosting the most divine fete with foodstuffs and frivolity (much like the scene in “High Fidelity” when John Cusak attends a swanky feast at an ex-girlfriend’s . . . played by the seductive Catherine Zeta Jones); well my turn had arrived (we finally have enough chairs to seat our table of eight).

I had been designing our five course meal for the past three days and just needed danny’s final thumbs up before we proceeded to the check stand.

As I mentioned in a previous post, we opted for the “roasted sweet and sour chicken with thyme, orange and kumkwats” over some variety of grilled lamb chops. And believe me, it had more to do with the fact we don’t have an outdoor (or indoor) grill, for that matter . . . than the fact that lamb chops are a bit more pricey than the “chipper chicken” (Steve Martin, “Father of the Bride”).

Shopping complete . . .
Hit a Bee’s game with some family members (Danny’s own personal heaven; the baseball game I mean. . . not necessarily hangin’ with the in-laws; but he seemed to enjoy himself well enough).

Next day; Danny was a peach and tidied the apartment as “Maria” (a.k.a. my own personal “Rosario”) was coming over later that afternoon to deep clean post yoga. (She’s uber fab btw. And only $15 an hour!!!! I wish she could come weekly, but that would not be very domestic-goddessey-of-moi). If you want her contact info, shoot me a message as I have just officially named myself her internet publicist. (MD, I don’t think she can fly to PHX to help you and Jess out – but Jess probably keeps everything lovely anyway . . . )

So I hit yoga – do something toxic to my knee; because according to my new-age self help book knee injuries are caused from being stubborn and not trusting the flow of life . . . I HAD SET MY INTENTION TO TRUST THE FLOW!!!! HOW MUCH MORE FLOWY CAN I GET?!?!?!?!

Anyway, post yoga; Danny and I indulged in a couples massage at Tranquility Med Spa (a B-day/Valentines present for Danny that somehow came with a delightful treat for me too!)

Post massage; Rosario came and saved the day!!! The house looked immaculate. Who knew she and Danny would make such a divine duo. . . just like Mr. and Mrs. Clean; except I am the Mexican that Danny is married to and sleeping with; not Rosario (I mean Maria).

So I’m just about to give you the story on my chickens that gave birth to an orange; and the woes of baking with kosher salt (my poooooooor unfortunate angel food cake!!!!) . . . but it’s 11:30 and I am quite tired.

So I promise to give you the lowdown on the orange baby; how grateful we were one of the dinner guests had worked at Kenny Rogers Roasters for three weeks; and how my know-how of the 80s fad “Shrinky Dinks” would help out in the game of Cranium. I will also tell you about how my angel food cake had me in tears . . . Danny said it made the evening; but I’m not exactly convinced.

Tune in after family night for the latest antics (or at least those of Saturday night) of Ms. Suite-Mangum.

Thanks for stopping by.

C’est moi!

Ps. It took 5 loads in the dishwasher to complete the “clean up” process of our 5 course meal! Good times!

Return from MKE with Cookies on the Lips; swaped out for the hips

Greetings Friends,

I am home from the Midwest. Truth be told, Milwaukee (or “Mil-ah-what-kay” as Alice Cooper explained in Wayne’s World) is a pretty great place. It reminded me a lot of Indiana; same biting cold, just minus the corn.

The people were ever so gracious; I ate way too many chocolate chip cookies; and as a consequence I borrowed Danny’s belt for a baseball game tonight because I had to wear my “fat jeans.” Granted, the self-deprecating comments should stop; but I’m a 5’5” 155 lb woman. Deprecation kind of seems in order.

From the time I arrived at MKE airport, to touch down in SLC yesterday – the entire trip took me about 10 hours to complete (I had a 3 hour layover in LAX which gave me plenty of time to contemplate the 5 varieties of cheese on the 5 cheese and tomato CPK pizza). I thought about doing yoga in the gate area, but I didn’t want to creep anyone out with my down-dog so I stuck to a nice mild version of tree-pose (the mild variety is about the only one I do) and called it quits. Baron Baptiste eat your heart out!

I officially have 3 fans (plus two other people that have read the site) and have tallied 2 “comments” within my first week of blogging. Things are shaping up quite nicely. Who knew I’d be so successful?

***********

Also on the agenda – I’m hosting a dinner party tomorrow night. It will be fun to play domestic goddess tomorrow. We’re having sweet and sour orange chicken with roasted kumquats. Should be a crowd pleaser. . . and I will attempt to make a variety of Lugano’s roasted beet salad with blue cheese and fennel (only it’s not going to have blue cheese, or fennel . . . and I’m not exactly sure how super chef Greg Neville roasts his beets; even though I wrote a story on it and specifically asked him for the recipe.

***********

I hired a cleaning lady to help out with the apartment tomorrow. I’ve asked for 2 hours to get our 800 sq feet spick-and-span. . . whatever that means. Mostly, I’m just afraid of what could be growing behind our toilet and I’m not interested in discovering it myself. I prefer it remain one of the great unsolved mysteries of the universe – or at least the black hole that is our water closet.

**********

MD – I’ve only heard a little of the new Modest Mouse. Not enough to form an opinion; except to say that “100 miles is a long drive inside a car” and although I didn’t have “a drink the other day, opinions were like kittens I was giving them away.”

**********

This is going to be one of the best weekends of my life. Tonight we went to a Bee’s (triple A baseball) game with the little people (my two sisters, Danny, a bro in law and all the little sandwich grabbers). It was sooooooooo fun! Who knew churros could instill such a sense of peace and happiness through the universe.
And tomorrow, besides yoga; Danny and I are getting a couples massage at 1 pm. Send us all your positive chi as we align our chakras!

Namaste!
Suite

And on the 7th day, God rested too... (this one isn't very funny, you might not want to waste our time)

Thus, I figured if Sunday was a day of rest for the creator of heaven and earth, I figured I ought to honor the Sabbath and take a rest from my blogging too. But I’m back on a Monday.

What I’m currently thinking about:

*Poor Buckeyes; they tried so hard… but 2 losses to the Gators this past academic year! I cheered hard, and Oden played his heart out, but the 3’s couldn’t fall for Ohio, and that my friends, can cost you a championship. The thing is, they really needed this win because what else is there to live for in Ohio if it’s not college sports? . . . exactly.

*Today on a flight from Salt Lake to Saint George a random passenger in 9B was explaining to Sen. Bennett (R-UT), about the Boise passenger on SkyWest. . . seriously, this torment I can’t escape. I slumped into my chair and put my ID badge in my purse.

*I’m on my way to Milwaukee tomorrow. . . kind of stoked to try out those “Midwest Airlines” chocolate chip cookies and swanky leather chairs everyone’s been talking about.

*I wore a red power suit to the office today and Danny asked me if I was going for the Hilary Clinton . . . sometimes it “takes a village” just to dress me.

*This blog is pathetic today . . . I can’t decide if it’s because I have writers block, or just that I really need to use the ladies, and I’m too tired to get off the couch.

Oh, like I said, I’m in MKE for a few days so for my two fans (you know who you are . . . um, yeah, you . . . the one reading this), I’ll be out of “comish” for a few days. Check in with you on Thursday to report on how the other half lives.

Cheers from the red couch in downtown SLC.

suite