We were all ready for a great Father’s Day dinner.  The five of us piled in C’s car and off we went to the Sagebrush Steakhouse in Morganton, NC.  C and I had eaten there about a year and a half ago and the food had been good.  The In-Laws had eaten there a few times since, but they had not been in the past few months.

I know that Father’s Day is nowhere near as celebrated as Mother’s Day when it comes to restaurants, but people still go out to eat with their dads.  The parking lot wasn’t very crowded.  Okay, well it was around 8 so maybe that’s late for dinner in this part of the world.  There was no host/hostess so we had to wait to eventually get seated by some of the waitstaff.  No biggie.

We get seated.  There is a family at the table behind us.  I don’t know how long they have been there, but it looks like it they are nearly done.  We watch the table across the aisle from us get bussed.  The busboy literally wipes the food from the table onto the floor.  I watch a half eaten carrot roll under the table.  He walks away.  I’m hoping that he will come back with a broom to finish cleaning, but he’s never seen again.

Here are the scenes from underneath our table and from the table across the aisle:

Under our table

More under our table

The rear of our seats at Sagebrush

Under the table across the aisle at Sagebrush

Yes, under our table those things are lettuce, what may be either a carrot or a crayon, some half eaten bread, and chewed up globs of meat.  In the seat are peanuts and french fries that have hardened.  Under the other table is another myriad of filth.

The busboy saw us taking these pictures and was unfazed.

According to a report from the Burke County Health Department linked here, Sagebrush apparently got a 96 rating in February of this year.  How this happened, I just don’t understand if what we saw today is any indication of how things were back then.  If this is the kind of things patrons see, imagine what goes on behind the scenes.

We really should have left right there and then, because things just went downhill from there.  We ordered our food.  Cheese fries for an appetizer, steaks all around for the rest of us with various add-ons, and some spaghetti and french fries for Enzi.  I ask the waitress to put in the request for Enzi’s food with the app so that he can start eating.  We went through an average of 2.5 drinks per person before the cheese fries came out.  The cheese had previously been melted, and was hardened, and the fries were not very hot.  It looked as if it had been sitting on the pass for several minutes.  It tasted okay, but would have been better if it had been brought out correctly.  No sight of Enzi’s food.

A long while after we were finished eating the appetizer, the entrees come out.  Mom-in-law’s prime rib had a sheen to it.  That meat had either been previously frozen for so long a time that it now was full of freezer burn, or it was old and should not have been passed onto a consumer.  Either way, not edible.  She had ordered mushrooms to go along with it, these were delivered about 10 minutes after the dish was served..and tasted dirty and gritty as if they had not been cleaned.  Dad-in-law’s steak and potato was in  similar state.  Both C’s and Dad-in-law’s shrimp didn’t look quite cooked through.  Both my and C’s steaks were put on the wrong plate, and were tough and cold, and my baked potato was also cold and dried out.  I had ordered onions rings as a side and these came after Mom-in-law’s mushrooms and only after a reminder about their request and the request of Enzi’s fries which also didn’t show up.

Worst of all, though, may have been Enzi’s spaghetti.  When it came out, it looked like it had been sitting on a plate for over half an hour.  The noodles were cold, stuck together, and were beginning to harden.  The sauce was cold and congealed.  I couldn’t let my kid eat that.  In the middle of this “meal” C got up and took Enzi to McDonald’s- and he ended up with the best meal of the night!  Fast food better than a steakhouse…. who would have guessed!  We then overheard the family in the booth behind us that they had been waiting for over an hour for some of their food, including a baked potato.

I wish I had taken pictures of the food to show, but I was so disgusted that I just couldn’t do it.  I couldn’t.  Only about 15% of the food had even been eaten and most of it was just in tasting and grimacing.

When the waitress came with the checks, she automatically came with boxes.  When she asked if we wanted said boxes, she was met with a resounding “NO!” and we told her that this was possibly the worst meal we have ever had.  Honestly, the meal was in such bad shape that it should have been comped.  It wasn’t, and only a 10% discount was granted.  The manager didn’t even come out to get our feedback.

An email is being sent to the contact us section of Sagebrush’s website.  I am not linking to it here because it is just that disgusting!  I am also just letting the health dept there know what’s up.  Maybe it’s time for a reinspection…a surprise inpection… and NOT by the same person who previously inspected them.

I had a huge revelation about myself last week.  I am no longer the fat girl in the joint.

We’ll harken back to the days of elementary school…

I was a little butterball.  That’s just a fact.  I was not the kid that happily or easily ran the mile in P.E.  In fact, I could usually be seen feigning a stitch in my side or hobbling because of a twisted ankle (sadly, this was not faked, I’ve always been a klutz).  I still can’t do a pull-up to save my life and the only “sports” I was good at were kickball, dodgeball, and oddly enough, floor gymnastics.

I was the kid that quit ballet because the original “easy” teacher left and the new one was an actual ballet teacher so she expected us to work and dance and actually try.  Looking back, I wish my parents had pushed the issue with me a little bit, maybe then I might have actually had some semblance of grace when I walk instead of being a mix between an elephant and a clydesdale.  Maybe then I would have also been slightly less accident prone because I would be awake of how to turn without falling or hitting stuff/people.

Later in life, I found a way to get out of taking real personal fitness in high school.  I took it in nightschool… at another school.  I told my parents that it was so I could have more room to take AP classes, which I was able to take more of, but it was actually because I was lazy and didn’t want to run.  At night, the field at the other school wasn’t lit up and they also don’t expect anything really from you.  I don’t know if that’s true of all night classes, but it was with night P.E.  It was great.  I actually got an A in a P.E. class.  The only A I ever got in P.E.  I was always a C1A student.  I wasn’t good at anything so they gave me a C but I was always able to make it look like I made an effort and I didn’t whine so I got the 1 and A.

Now, I know what some of you may be thinking… If I had just tried in P.E. while growing up, maybe I would not be a butterball.  Alas, that isn’t the case.  In orer to battle the amount of food constantly presented, I would have had to exercise as much as they do on The Biggest Loser every single day.  A measley P.E. class wasn’t going to cut it.

You see, my dad was Greek.  That means that you automatically get food shoved in your face the second you walk in the door.  My friends knew that they were going to eat if they came over.  And just because you might have been slightly allergic to eggs, doesn’t mean that you wouldn’t end up eating an omelet…. or two.

When you ate at my house, you automatically got a plate (that you did not fill).  Afterwards, this was the drill

If you didn’t want any more food… TOUGH

If you wanted a little bit more, just say “No, thanks.  I don’t want any more.”

If you want a whole other plate, say, “Just a little, please.”

If you want a whole new mountain of food,  say “Yes.”

I grew up with the awesome food of both Brazil and Greece.  At my house we didn’t eat macaroni and cheese (which I had never had until second grade when I started eating school lunches) or meatloaf.  We had Pastitsio and Bife Enrolado with rice and beans.  I also grew up in a condo that was one step away from the grave so my brother and I didn’t have much of an opportunity to play high action running around games.  We only got to do that in the summer when we would go to “The Ranch” and I would lose something like 20 pounds in 4 months (we would leave school early) only to gain it back once we returned.

So, that was a huge background to what I figured out last week.  I don’t know if other girls do this too or if it was just my little idiosyncrasy (aka crazyness), but when I would take a class or walk into a party or whatever, I always compared my body to all the other girls there.  Who was fatter, who was thinner, and who was the same.  Well, last week I was in the middle of a dance class when I noticed that I hadn’t bothered to do that at all (and this was day three of the class).  This is when it finally hit me that in the past year and a half I have lost about 45 lbs.  It’s not a super impressive number in the long run and only averages to 2.5 lbs lost a month, but it means a lot more than that.  I now go to the gym… for fun.  I use the ellyptical and take Zumba classes (which are way fun and remind me of our high school dances because of the music).  I still don’t run, though.  I doubt I ever will.  It’s just not my thing and I’m okay with it. But most of all, it hit me that I have actually lost this weight.

I bought pants in size 8/10 last week.  I don’t think I ever saw those numbers on the way up.  For as long as I can remember I have always been a size 14/XL girl.  Now I’m even getting some mediums.

Before you start doubting and screaming vanity sizing I will say that it’s not at any particular store that I have been able to buy smaller clothes, it’s at all of them, including Anthropologie which is one of those stores where, in the past, I would have walked by just knowing that they wouldn’t have anything that fit me.  Plus, instead of just clothing sizes, I am actually looking at my measurements.

I feel better too. 

So, big step for me here.  Yay!

Last night I took melatonin again.  This time it did nothing.  I got all of about 2 hours of sleep all night.  Great.  Maybe I was too tired from travelling and then doing stuff all day long, but maybe not.

A punch in the face.

A group of teens was jaywalking in Seattle, WA and were called over by a police officer who had just cited another man for jaywalking in the same area.  I don’t have an issue with this at all.  If it’s unlawful in a particular city to be jaywalking, then you shouldn’t be doing it.  Although, I don’t have any problem with jaywalking itself, I can see how it can be dangerous especially in overly trafficked streets where drivers aren’t expecting pedestrians outside of designated crosswalks.

HOWEVER, I do take issue with a punch to the face that seems to be what I would consider use of excessive force.  While the teen (who was 17 yrs old) isn’t completely faultless (I mean, really, even if you don’t agree you need to cooperate with the police so that you have more of a leg to stand on to fight whatever it is) I really can’t see how it would qualify as needing to be punched in the face.

See for yourself-

Here is a link to the story on KOMO news (A local Seattle News site).  A follow up to the story reports that the police department has “concerns” about the event stating:

Seattle police officials said Tuesday that their officers are trained to throw a punch in certain situations, but said they have a “number of concerns” regarding the tactics an officer used in dealing with a 17-year-old girl he punched in the face while trying to cite a group of women for jaywalking.

“The issue we have to investigate is whether the force he used is reasonable given the combative resistance he was facing… and we’re not going to pass judgment on that until the matter has been thoroughly investigated,” said Assistant Seattle Police Chief Nick Metz.

So, who wants to bet that the officer will be found not at fault?

I was sitting down and drinking my coffee this morning while reading SELF magazine today. Reading health/fitness magazines always makes me feel like doing something physical so I usually find it a good thing to do in the morning. Start the day off right, sort of speak.
So, anyways, there I was drinking my coffee with just a teaspoon of sugar (a tiny amount if you knew how much sugar I used to put in) and fat free half and half, (BTW, Can someone explain to me how you get FAT FREE Half and Half since isn’t half and half, well, half cream and how do you get fat free cream?) when I come across an article that just about made me spit out said coffee.

It was an article about snacking and how your brain doesn’t really help your fight against snacking.  To top it all off, there was this sidebar:

The Anatomy of a Craving

It’s not your imagination—you’re wired to crave. Consider what happens when you pass by the Cinnabon stand at your local mall.

By Melissa Chessher

From the June 2010 Issue

1. The scent of the cinnamon bun enters your nose, and your brain can tell the confection is high in sugar and fat. Your brain releases dopamine, so you expect to experience pleasure and feel desire if you eat it. “Although you had lunch and don’t want to gain weight, you start salivating, and it’s a strong urge,” says Nora Volkow, M.D., an addiction researcher and director of the National Institute on Drug Abuse in Bethesda, Maryland.

2. The smell activates areas of your gray matter associated with memory and emotion. You probably had your first Cinnabon with a friend as you shopped and gossiped together. Your brain taps into the fun memories you associate with the bun, which make you want it on an emotional level as well as a physical one.

3. Stressed? You step right up. Tension makes you even more likely to be lured to the counter, because the dopamine and serotonin surge you get from eating lifts your mood. You’re also conditioned to associate comfort foods with feeling better.

4. You feast your eyes on a big bun. “The sight and smell together get you to place an order,” says Roy Wise, Ph.D., a neuroscientist at the National Institutes of Health in Bethesda, Maryland. When you see how cheap it is to supersize, you’ll do it, research shows.

5. You taste the gooey goodness. As you take your first, sweet bite, your body begins to absorb and process the sugar, which increases dopamine in the brain, prompting you to take another bite. And another. Your plan to eat only half evaporates.

6. You start feeling stuffed and sick to your stomach. For most people, the signal to stop noshing arrives too late: Your stomach begins to feel uncomfortably full and pumps out more leptin to let you know you’re satiated. Massive sugar consumption prompts your body to release insulin, further squelching the impulse to eat.

Now, we’ll go beyond the fact that Cinnabon is ALWAYS, much like pancakes, better in theory than it is is practice.  You always think it’s going to be really tasty, but instead you’re left with overly sweet disappointment.  And I do actually understand the correlation between the brain and stomach and the power of the brain, etc.  But, and it’s a huge butt but, this seems to be just another way to put the blame on something “that I can’t control.”  It’s not my fault that I ate that entire gallon of ice cream smothered in hard chocolate shell, I am just wired that way.  This can quickly turn into I’m just wired to insert-whatever-here…. and I would be 300 lbs by the time I was done.

I’m not going to say that my view here is fairly simplistic, but I know how much hard work it takes to lose pounds and I really don’t need yet another excuse to cheat myself on how I eat.  I can do it all by myself without relying on feel-good memories and blaming my mind for eating like poop on a stick.  Seriously SELF.

Shakespeare really needed to write in a Sassy Gay Friend!

Thanks to my friends who let me know about these videos. They are hilarious!

A year and a half ago, I started having some pain in my foot.  It would be fine in the morning, but by the time I put Enzi down to sleep, my foot would be killing me, like I had a knife sticking through my heel.

I, of course, immediately went to Dr. Internet and after much reading decided that there was no way it could be plantar fasciitis because my pain was only at night.  Yeah, right.  A quick trip to a real podiatrist resulted in me seeing a small knife edge in my heel from the spur and bringing home shoe inserts and a night splint boot.

The night splint boot looks like this and it is okay for stretching out my foot.  My issues with it stem from the fact that the closures are neoprene and attached with velcro.  The neoprene will stretch (as neoprene does) and so I don’t feel like I’m getting as effective a toe/foot stretch as I could be.  I still wear it, though, when my foot hurts (like it is right now) but I can’t sleep in it so I only wear it at night when I’m resting but before bed.

I also had to learn a bunch of stretches which help out a lot.  Here are a couple.  I took some Voltaren too for the inflamation.

Fast forward to now.

Last week I took an intensive theater session through KCTC which was AWESOME.  I spent a lot of time moving around barefoot and dancing and just doing stuff with my feet that I don’t normally do.  So, now I’m paying the price and feel like I need to start over in taking care of my foot.  Unfortunately, this seems to not be the kind of thing that just “goes away” so I am kind of back to square one.

We’ll see how things go in the next few weeks after hiking and running around like a loon.  If it still hurts, I will be back at the podiatrist asking for more.

Why is Siobhan pronounces Sheevaughn or Shevahn, or anything even remotely like that?  In my world, and the worls of many around me, it is pronounces See-oh-bahn.  Like it’s spelled.

And on a similar note- Chinoe is not Shenoway and Athens is not Aythens.

That is all.

Photo of the opening scrim of Legally Blonde: the Musical

Last night, C and I took a much needed break and went off to Louisville to see Legally Blonde: the Musical.  I had warned C beforehand to not expect anything like Wicked, which we had seen a few weeks before.  After all, this musical is based on the Legally Blonde movie.  It’s a big piece of [pink] feel-good fluff.

Now, I will pre-empt this review with a note that I MUCH prefer darker, “serious” musicals.  My favorites are Les Miserables, Jekyll and Hyde, and Titanic.  So, basically, I like musicals where people die.  Legally Blonde does not fall into this category.  However, I had heard the music before and seen a showing of it on MTV, (Yeah, I watch MTV sometimes, so what?) and found the sounds to be really catchy (as in they WILL NOT DISAPPEAR from your head after you hear them) so when I saw it was coming to town, I plopped my money down to get seats where I like to sit (front row) and off we went.

The musical was what I expected.  It’s not a masterful piece of musical writing, but was definitely entertaining.  I would put my views on it somewhere between the review in Louisville’s Courier-Journal that the show might as well have been the greatest thing since sliced bread (and who’s reviewer was the same one who saw Wicked and yet came up with this idea- oops, is that my bias showing?) and this review by Sherry Deatrick in the blog Theater Louisville that forgets that the musical is based on the movie with the exact same ideas of “be yourself” bla bla bla.

I do agree with one particular aspect of Deatrick’s review.  The usual problems with the Whitney are in usual abundance. Sounds bounce off the walls and ceiling, making it difficult to understand what’s being sung or said.

Last night was not a good sound night.  It seemed that they were having all kinds of issues with the mics and music too.  Half the time it was fine and then a quarter of the time it was muffled while the other quarter had the sound being tinny.  It didn’t help that Elle, played by Becky Gulsiv was constantly singing through her nose.  I don’t know if maybe she wasn’t feeling well or what was up because when I looked her up and heard her doing other things and songs from the show itself, the nasalness doesn’t appear at all.  In fact, she sounds wonderfully!  I wish last night had been like that. C noted that the trumpteer (trumpeter?) was way off a lot of the time.  A quick peek at him after bows showed that he was not a happy camper with himself.  I felt a little bad for him.

The highlights for me were Natalie Joy Johnson, who plays Paulette, D.B. Bonds who portrays Emmet, Megan Lewis (Vivienne), and Rhiannon Hansen (Margot).

Natalie was amazing.  Every time she opened her mouth it was fantastic and hilarious.  D.B. was sweet and believable as Emmet.  Megan has some voice on her and Rhiannon was just cute and spunky.  I enjoyed watching her as Margot.

The biggest laughs of the night come whenever the UPS Man, Ven (yes, really) Daniel, would come in.  C wondeed how much UPS was paid to be shown.  I told it it was free advertising.  Does anyone know what it actually is?

And, for those of you wondering, I did have a boyfriend last night.  Paul Jackel, who played Elle’s dad and Mr. Winthrop was a little cutie.  I laughed whenever he opened his mouth.  A little Freudian or Oediple?  Maybe, but whatev.  There may have been a smile during Legally Blonde (the song) because it was oddly light in the audience (I looked behind me and could see pretty far back), but it could also have been a mind trick resulting from a very busy and grueling week.

Overall, it was a fun night. 

Legally Blonde will be playing in Louisville until tomorrow, June 13th.

I guess that people who use no electricity or gasoline are the real cause of environmental demise.

Yesterday, the New York Times reported,

…farmers like Mr. Stoltzfus are facing growing scrutiny for agricultural practices that the federal government sees as environmentally destructive. Their cows generate heaps of manure that easily washes into streams and flows onward into the Chesapeake Bay.

And the Environmental Protection Agency, charged by President Obama with restoring the bay to health, is determined to crack down. The farmers have a choice: change the way they farm or face stiff penalties.

These penalties include being fined $100 a day up to $10,000.  The Amish Country News gives an example of the kinds of actions that could be taken against the farmers:

One farmer paid his fine until money was exhausted and he could not borrow any more from the bank.  Then one day a cattle truck pulled in and loaded up the number of cows required to meet the $10,000 fine.  Fortunately, his neighbor had the money to pay the fine until he got his problem in shape.

These are the Amish, people!  Their cow pies can’t be causing more trouble than, hmmm, pesticide run off, pollution from cars and trucks, garbage in landfills, and oh, I don’t know…. millions of gallons of oil floating around the Gulf of Mexico!