Avocados are truly the wonder food.

They're full of good fat and can help lower your cholesterol.

There is no cooking required and they boast quite the variety of preparation possibilities.

Upon my recent discovery as to how much I like them I've become quite the avocado advocate.

They are the easiest fruit I've yet to peel and they mash like a dream- well, if your dreams mash.

I recommend them to everyone and eat them on everything.

I like them in wraps and sandwiches, on pizzas and even plain.

If I have an avocado on hand, it's a safe bet I'll find something, anything, to put it on.

If I'm out to eat I'll seriously consider anything that has them in it.

My most recent find came today via the appetizer menu at The Cheesecake Factory.

Avocado Eggrolls.

Please go get some. Now.

I thought it would be funny to get Jason in a pair of skinny jeans.

He agreed so we headed to the mall.

Anticipation mounted as we went from store to store in search of the perfect pair. Wanting to avoid looking like he was fifteen, we steered clear of the purples and yellows. Finally we settled on a nice grey with ankles tapered to perfection.

We could hardly contain ourselves as we waited for the salesman to unlock the fitting room door. I got my camera ready because we knew it was going to be hilarious.

Jason pulled them on and buttoned them up. Preparing ourselves for the laugh that was to come, we looked first at each other and then to the pants.

I attempted to get a good picture from multiple angles but it wasn't working out. We tried to brush it off as the fitting room being too small for pictures but we knew it was something more.

The pants.

They just weren't that funny.

In fact, they didn't look that bad.

And just as our anticipation of the ultimate laugh had lifted us up, disappointment sent us crashing back down to reality harder than we ever thought possible.

Dumbfounded, we returned the pants to the racks and left the mall. Any plans we'd had for the rest of the day no longer mattered. There was nothing I could have purchased that would be worth more than the lesson I learned.

It doesn't matter how funny you want something to be, preconceived notions are no match for what is real.

And so, even though skinny jeans look better on my husband than I'd hoped, they will always, always be funny on Danny DeVito.

It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia

I would like to assume that my hesitation to classify myself as a lazy person is due largely in part to the fact that I'm not. Although, the possibility remains that I hesitate to say I'm lazy because I'd hate to admit that it could be true.

In order to avoid jumping to unnecessary conclusions, I'm going on record to state that I am not a lazy person. I do, however, have what could be referred to as “lazy tendencies.”

I all too often find myself noticing that something needs to be done but not doing a thing about it.

A pile of coats will remain on a chair for days, even though I notice they need to be hung up every time I walk past.

I will get a drink of water and notice that the filter needs to be replaced but I can't seem to take two minutes to do it.

I have a running list of phone calls I need to return and emails I need to answer but I always seem to find someone else to text and something else to read online.

My appalling lack of follow-thru is finally getting to me, but my timing in putting off changing my lazy ways couldn't be better.

Today marks the first day of Lent. Any surprise I'm giving up procrastination?

I haven't taken a train downtown in over a week.

I'd be lying if I said there wasn't a small part of me that didn't miss it in the slightest bit.

But then again, I don't miss barely making the train with seconds to spare.

I don't miss having to take the University line when I didn't make my regular train.

I don't miss standing next to people who didn't feel it was impolite to leave their backpacks on while standing in very close quarters.

I don't miss pushing those backpacks out of my personal space. I don't miss the smells that invaded my personal space, either.

I don't miss the regular power struggles that ensued between the homeless and the anarchists-in-training staking out their turf.

I don't miss the urge to give advice to the transients that didn't feel the need to put shoes on their baby in freezing temperatures.

I don't miss wearing flats everyday for fear of ruining my heels on the walk.

I don't miss being a pedestrian in a city of drivers who feel it their right to run red lights.

I don't miss running past the corner ammo shop after someone walks in with a shotgun, only to have to stop at the light and hope they weren't as crazy as my imagination.

I don't miss the small-talk at the stoplights or in the elevators. I don't miss all the time I spent waiting for elevators.

I don't miss all the time I spent at my desk dreading my job.

I don't miss all the time I spent at my desk doing my job.

I don't miss my job.

At all.

Being able to say that makes it all worthwhile.

I've never been one to dream of being on the big screen. It's really not my thing.

But when an opportunity to be in one of 50 Cent's videos came along I just couldn't say no.

Here's a sneak peek:

For those of you wondering how to get in on this yourself, you can find more info on other artists auditioning spots for their videos here.

The verdict states six more weeks of winter.

I'm holding out for an early spring.

What does that damn groundhog know, anyway?

You could spend years trying to figure out what makes a person tick and even then you may end up with more questions than answers. But sometimes you get lucky and a single conversation explains it all.

The following took place after I explained something very important in great detail. I assumed Jason had been paying attention and wanted to know his thoughts.

Whitney: So, what do you think?

[no response]

Whitney: Well?

Jason: Oh sorry. My mind is just in the gutter.

Whitney: The gutter?

Jason: Yeah, like I'm thinking of something else. My mind is in the gutter. Or is it the clouds?

And with that came the sad realization that either one works. Any doubt as to what drives my husband has been officially removed.

It's been one year since Obama was sworn into office.

Three-hundred sixty five days later  and I'm still just as proud.

I'm still just as hopeful.

I'm still just as committed to change.

In spite of the false sense of entitlement many of us grew up with yet few have shaken, we have done little to deserve living in this country. On more than one occasion I've wondered, why here? Why didn't I  end up in India, China, Haiti or Uganda? Call it what you will, but I believe it was nothing more than fate that allowed me to be born here.

Have I always appreciated it? No. I've all too often taken it for granted and I know I'm not the only one. It's easy to complain and far easier to do nothing to change the circumstances we're so unhappy to be in.

I realize what it is to have a leader that takes initiative to change the less than ideal circumstances surrounding us. I have put my trust in him the past year, knowing that he is fighting for the greater good and I will continue to lend my unwavering support.

Thanks for working tirelessly to be a leader I can take pride in.

Thanks for giving me hope that my children can be raised as proud citizens, knowing the meaning of goals and accomplishment in the face of opposition.

Thanks for the change that is so desperately needed and the commitment to see it through.

Here's to seven more.

Were Martin Luther King, Jr. here today, I don't doubt that he would take pride in the progress that has been made since he spoke his famous words nearly forty-seven years ago.

But would he have the satisfaction he so desired? Has his hope for 'justice rolling down like water and righteousness like a mighty stream' been fulfilled?

I can't help but think that no, it hasn't.

Martin Luther King, Jr. Day has only been celebrated by all 50 states for the past ten years.

It's embarrassing, really, that one of our nation's greatest influences has only been recognized by the entire country for a single decade. There are far less important things that have been widely participated in for far longer.

Were his efforts in vain? Definitely not. The great strides our country has made are evident in many places, but I refuse to declare freedom at last.

There is still racism. There is still discrimination based on gender, religion and political affiliation and sexual orientation.

Until we loose those bonds of intolerance, until we break free from labels and hatred, a great man's dream will remain just that.

We need to embrace the diversity that surrounds us in our own cities and states with the same energy that we reach across the globe with. Respect and tolerance should not have to be brought about by tragedy.

“And when this happens, when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual:

Free at last! Free at last!

Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!”

Around this time last year I felt our lives needed simplifying. Thus, I set about with grand plans to suspend our Directv service for a few months, do away with our cell phones and only go grocery shopping once a month to get what we'd need to make everything from scratch.

It went rather smoothly. Well, except for the canceling of cell phones and minimal shopping trips. Basically, all that was checked off my list was suspending the Directv and even that was half-assed. By that I mean the service was suspended but we didn't really sit in front of the tv any less as we had plenty of movies and nintendo games to keep us occupied.

Three months passed and our tv viewing was back in full-swing. I considered the simplification experiment a success if for no other reason than the fact that I didn't watch live tv for three full months.

Fast-forward nine months and I'm at it again. This time, however, I've canceled the Directv for good. I strongly believe that television is the cause of every mental and emotional ailment and I refuse to support it.

I hope you know that's a lie.

I love tv and I watch it entirely too much to do anything truly productive. That's the real reason for disconnecting. That and I hate Directv's shoddy, unreliable service that they refuse to take ownership of.

So far it's going well. I have more time to do what needs to be done and far less time to waste. I only wish that I had better timing.

Leave it to me to disconnect service the same time Sarah Palin follows God's plan and joins the ranks at Fox News. I was upset when I found out what I would be missing but then I thought about how much more upset Jason would have been upon realizing our DVR was full of Sarah Palin footage.

I only hope it's half as entertaining when I find it online the day after it airs. Who am I kidding- it's Sarah Palin talking politics. This will be entertainment at it's best.

Ya know?

What do you get when you cross two of my favorite celebs with one of my favorite causes?

PETA's Man and Woman of the Year for 2009

Further proof there is nothing stylish or funny about animal cruelty.

I've never been an advocate for children playing musical instruments. There's just something about listening to them practice that I cannot stand.

I remember making my sister wait until I was out of the house to practice the piano because the incessant  plinking of one key at a time was just too much.

If it makes any difference, I can't stand to listen to anyone play an instrument that isn't completely perfect.

I applaud the extracurricular efforts by children and parents alike, but I think I'll pass on signing any future Fosters up for piano/violin/tuba lessons.

Sure I may be squandering the dreams of a potential Tchaikovsky but it's a risk I'm willing to take if it means saving my sanity.

That and an instrument-wielding child may grow to be an instrument-wielding high school band member and that's just embarrassing for everyone involved.

However, if I have a little boy like this I may be willing to reconsider. He makes me smile- wrong lyrics and all.

It's December 15th.

In ten days it will be Christmas.

The countdown will soon be in the single digits and I have yet to wrap a single present. Not that it matters seeing as how there's no tree set up to put them under.

No stockings are hung.

No Christmas cookies baked.

I guess you could say I'm just not feeling it this year. I'm struggling to wrap my head around the details of a season that, until now, I've never given a second thought.

Why do we teach children to not talk to strangers, then encourage them to sit on a strange man's lap and tell him all the toys they want?

Why do parents use the idea of little people peering in windows and reporting their findings to the North Pole to discipline their children?

Why do we ignore those in need eleven months out of the year then try to make up for it while reminding ourselves how much more fortunate we are?

Why do we put trees in our houses and socks on our mantles with no intent other than to receive gifts?

Why is it that the focus appears to be on giving, but the majority of us would be disappointed to not receive anything on our list?

Most importantly, why do we attempt to justify all the commercialization and greed with an event that did not even take place December 25th?

There are two types of people in parking lots. There are those who pull into any available spot, and then there are those who always pull through.

I belong to the latter group. Nine times out of ten I will choose a spot that enables me to pull through. I find that doing so gives me a much quicker getaway than having to wait until there's no one behind me to back out.

I have recently learned that my method is not always foolproof, as apparently there is a third group of people in parking lots.

I parked in my normal spot at the Trax parking lot Tuesday morning, pulling through to the front space like I always do. Now fast forward five hours later as I trudged to my car, happy that I only had to work a half day and anxious to get home.

As I got to my car I noticed something didn't look right. It could have been the extra row of cars parked in front of mine, sandwiching me in.

Seriously. An entire row of cars was parked illegally in front of the two existing rows in the area usually reserved for driving through the parking lot. I couldn't believe that out of the twenty cars parked that way, not one of the drivers thought that maybe it wasn't such a good idea.

Regardless of their thought process, or clear lack thereof, I was still stuck. There was an empty space to the left of me but given my poor depth perception, I decided to not risk hitting another car during the 30-point turn it would take for me to get out.

Instead I called the transit police and waited thirty minutes for them to arrive. The officer took one look at the situation and figured he could get my car out.

I was expecting that a tow-truck might be called. I was expecting a few citations might be written. I was not expecting an officer to hop in my car and maneuver it out of the tight spot it was in.

He managed to cut the anticipated 30-point turn down to about a 09-point turn. I was impressed, although Jason's reaction when I told him what transpired led me to believe I should have been more embarrassed than I was.

To that I say, at least it was a cop riding in my car rather than me having to ride in a cop car.

The last few weeks have been a whirlwind of celebration, selling out and sanity reclaimed.

We have since recovered and are ever ready for our next big adventure. We think it's time we share it with you.

In not so many months we will enter into a brand new routine. New clothes, a stricter schedule and of course, plenty of consulting with the experts.

Nothing would thrill us more than for you to share in the ups and downs of this life-altering journey.

We're going to Space Camp.

It turns out you don't have to be under the age of twelve.

It also turns out that you really don't travel to space.

Even so, you don't want to miss out.

Twelve people can enjoy up to three-days of rigorous astronaut training at the Kennedy Space Center with special appearances by Jim Lovell or Buzz Aldrin. But please, no skirts allowed- their rule, not mine.

The first ten people to comment get to come with.

It seems that there are certain occasions that bring with them a template, so to speak, for many bloggers. I'm not referring to the backgrounds that many change with the seasons. I'm talking about the occasions themselves.

If it's a birthday there's the obligatory pictures of attempted fondant cakes and the list of things you like about someone that is entirely dependent on the age they just turned. Unless it's a baby- then it's all about how you can't believe you have a one year-old.

Anniversaries require a picture of the actual wedding day and more details than anyone really cares to read. The sad thing is the person who it's usually geared to, ie, the blogger's spouse, is never going to read it.

Seeing as how it's almost Thanksgiving, there's bound to be many “I'm Thankful For...” posts. Then Christmas tree decoration posts. Then the First Real Snow and the Original Annual Ugly Sweater Party that everyone's group of friends seem to have posts. Then Christmas Morning posts. Then Christmas Lunch at the in-laws posts. Then Christmas Dinner posts.

It shouldn't go without saying that there are many entertaining and poignant posts in between. It's just that there are many more that are predictable. I can almost guarantee you what the recurring theme among many blogs will be on a monthly basis and tomorrow will be no different.

You'll see.

After everyone catches up on sleep after their girl's night out to the midnight showing.

After everyone uploads their pictures wearing matching homemade team t-shirts.

After everyone gushes over how amazing their husband was to watch the kids while they spent the week catching up on the books and had a much needed night out.

After you read the fourth post in a row about the exact same thing you'll wish you had listened to me and not looked at your google-reader for another week.

Or maybe you'll be too busy writing about your own creepy infatuation with fanged, high school romances.

Never read it. Never watched it. Never will.

Jason has informed me that stealing a baby is grounds for divorce.

Irreconcilable differences, my ass.

Is it inappropriate that Sarah Palin is her political hero because she is a "good mother?"

Is it inappropriate that she believes there is a double-standard in regard to liberal media tearing down conservative women more than the other way around?

Is it inappropriate that she was recently a supposed role-model for the next generation of free-thinking young women?

No.

But it is inappropriate that Carrie Prejean was asked to explain why she backed down from her deeply held convictions.