dairy-free artichoke dip

29 Jan

it’s not cream cheese sour cream parmesan asiago dip, but it’ll do.


two cans artichoke hearts
one can white kidney beans
drizzle of extra virgin olive oil
4-5 cloves garlic, minced
1 cup plain non-dairy yogurt
splash of non-dairy milk
4+ tablespoons nutritional yeast
1-2 tablespoons lemon juice
one dash cayenne pepper
salt and pepper to taste

strain and rinse the beans. put the beans in a blender. add the garlic and olive oil, then mix it until it looks like hummus. if it looks kind of chalky and weird, add some more olive oil. add the yogurt, nutritional yeast, then a splash of milk. blend until incorperated.

strain the artichoke hearts, then squeeze out the excess water. plop them into a casserole dish. pour the bean mixture over the hearts. add cayenne, and however much salt and pepper looks appropriate, then mix. spread out the mixture evenly in the dish, then sprinkle the top with paprika. bake at 350 degrees for 20 minutes.

some notes: i use whole artichoke hearts. when i squeeze out the water, it tends to break it up into pieces that won’t give you tmj.

i use a pantload of garlic because a) i love it, and b) it kind of makes you forget you’re not eating beautiful, beautiful dairy. most dips of this kind call for 2-3 cloves of garlic.

nancy’s soy yogurt is the only non-dairy yogurt i like, so that’s what i use. you could easily use any other kind of PLAIN non-dairy yogurt, or even a non-dairy sour cream. it’s a six ounce container of yogurt.

i didn’t have lemons, so i used the viscous liquid from our jar of preserved lemons. highly recommended!

for the non-dairy milk, use unsweetened. note that if you use coconut milk, it’s probably going to taste like coconuts. the almond milk i use goes undetected. i legit just splash some in after i throw in a whole mess of nutritional yeast if it looks like the mixture is a little thick and weird.

p.s. the nutritional yeast is totally optional. it’s kind of expensive if you don’t plan on using it again, but i have it on hand and use it often. i couldn’t taste it distinctly in the mix, but i KNOW it was there making nice.



29 Jan

guess what, my li’l bubs? i’m going to sometimes post recipes up in this bitch. i fucking HATE those blog post-type recipes where you have to scroll through 45 paragraphs of douchey kitchen whimsy, so i’m not going to give you any of that shit. being motherfucking lactose intolerant, i end up cooking sorta kinda vegan shit. i’d say i bake vegan a lot, but i use eggs when a recipe calls for them. sorry that last sentence wasn’t peppered with any goddamn swear words.

hang on to your bippy, because my next post is a recipe! oooOOOoooh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!111111 YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

did i really not write a blog post in 2013?

7 Jan

2013 was a year that happened. a lot of my friends had a shit year, but i can’t remember anything too bad happening to me personally. on new year’s eve i legit struggled to think of any major events that happened in 2013, so much so that i scrolled through my facebook and my instagram feeds to see if i could find anything. some may call that sad, but i’ve been recording events in one way or another for most of my life. growing up, i frequently received two calendars for christmas, and would use one to record things i didn’t want to forget onto that event’s date. that, and my menses. now this shit is on the intarwebbs, but whatever, it has been since livejournal.

here’s what i do remember:

on january first, i did so many calisthenics in my kitchen the night before that i had to take the remaining ibuprofen 800 from my wisdom teeth extraction to relieve the body pain/walk. “it’s going to be an old lady year,” said my body.

in february my husband and i bought a new mattress. this is literally the first new mattress i’ve ever owned; i spent a majority of my youth on a second-hand waterbed, and had numerous hand-me-down mattresses prior to and after that. why yes, you DID read that correctly; i slept on a waterbed from kindergarten through my senior year of high school. my parents (specifically my mom and kind of my stepdad) are 80s as fuck. the twin waterbed was hers; my stepdad gave it to her for christmas as a decoy gift, because she thought she was getting an engagement ring. she was, but he had to throw her off. aaaaaaanycrap, when they got married, they had a king size waterbed and i got the twin. that was 1987. they’re still in the waterbed. in 2014.

i think it was march that we moved my mother-in-law out of her house and into an apartment. we had to sell all of her shit. during the few weekends of estate sales and moving, i frequently went into beast mode to get shit done. many people thought i was mad at them, but it was really just that i’m SO FRIGGIN GOOD AT MAKING LAME SHIT HAPPEN. lolololololllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll.

i am SO BORED OF THIS ALREADY. bitch can’t handle breaking it down month by month.

two of my close friends got knocked up. while SO MANY of my friends from high school/college/adulthood have cranked out babies (and of course family members have as well), this was the first of my circle of friends that i hang out with on the regular to get pregs. what i’m saying is, shit got real this year. side note: if i am ever impregnated, i’m afraid to have a male child because i don’t want to deal with boners.

i started doing invisalign to make my face right. my teeth were never perfect, but they got jacked up in college when my wisdom teeth came in. now that teeth numbers 1, 16, 17, and 32 are out (blah. i’m mad at myself for saying that), there’s room for the rest of them to move around. maybe my jaw will stop clicking, too!

i got a new job, so instead of working in a dental office in boston, i work in a dental office in salem (where i live). maybe 2014 is the year i figure out what i want to be when i grow up? not having a commute is the tits. i do miss boston, however, and spending too much money at h&m and urban outfitters. the h&m at my mall just isn’t the same.

2013 is the year i did four 5Ks. the first one wasn’t “real” in that i was part of a group who decided to walk, but one person was lying and we ended up chasing her around until she got tired. it was a big national 5K with bells and whistles and strobe lights and marihuana smokers and rave music and junk, and i wore a tutu because that’s what females are supposed to do for this shit.

the second one was my first “real” 5K in that i attempted to run the whole time. mama can’t run uphill with the wind blowing in her face, apparently, because my goal to run the whole thing came to an end within the first five minutes. fuckers made us start it running up a hill! UP A HILL!!!!!! i DID, however, pick up someone’s feather boa and ran to catch up to her so she could have it back. NOBLE AS FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! it took me about 46 minutes of waddling, huffing, puffing, foaming at the mouth, and jiggling, but i ran/walked with the worst of them. i was faster than 14 whole people!

the third was on the coldest day of the year (at that point in november), and as it was ugly sweater-themed, i wore this BRUTAL cat cardigan over a tank top, long sleeved christmas turtleneck, and running jacket. i looked/felt like randy from “a christmas story.” there were a lot of hills, and thus a lot of walking. AIN’T 2 PROUD 2 WALK. waiting for the two free beers at the end took longer than the actual race. a lot of people in line agreed that my sweater was the ugliest, and for that, i swelled up with pride.

the fourth was another “real” one for me in that it was a timed course without a heavily-enforced theme and a national presence, and i did it in 41 minutes. i ran way more than i did for my first real 5K, and i ran it faster than when i did a trial run of the course a week prior (the time being faster a) because it was, and b) because i ran less than 3.1 miles). while it still was a combination of running and a hearty amount of mall walking, and speed has never EVER been a goal, i was proud of myself. i am proud of myself for getting off my (wonderfully) fat duff once in awhile.

i do 5Ks for the shirts, for the free food/drinks after, and to motivate myself. my goal is to get out of my own head and run the whole thing from start to finish, even if it means taking 3 hours. it may sound a bit weird, i dunno, but i just want to be able to put on a pair of sneaksss, run a few mile loop, and call it a day. i literally don’t have any goals with these 5Ks other than to get myself to run a few times in between, but hopefully run several days a week in between, and to run the whole thing from start to finish. while i know intervals are better for weight loss, which i’m into, i DO want to be able to run 3.1 miles without “NEEDING” to stop. i could care less about doing anything more than a 5K, at least at this point, and i don’t truly give a flying fuck about my speed in terms of goals. GIVE ME A TORTOISE PACE OR GIVE ME DEATH.

maybe 2014 will be the year that i become a runner, or find out what i want to be when i grow up, or finish the cross stitch project i told my friend i’d do for her (or start it… yikes), or actually keep up with my blog, or actually write an interesting blog entry, or have something memorable and rad happen. change those ORs to ANDs for added positivity!

truly, though, i’m thankful i don’t have much to report for 2013. a job change and a faux foray into athleticism are pretty big and great for me. a lack of personal tragedy is even greater. YAY!

i’ll be back later to talk about things i’d like for this year. maybe. haha. STAY POSITIVE, BITCHES! YOU ONLY LIVE ONCEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11111

thanks a pantload

16 Nov

this was originally going to be a lump sum version of the daily “what i’m thankful for” list that is going around facebook like the clap this month. i started typing it in word because i’m really good at writing lengthy blog posts and accidentally deleting them. it evolved into the part you’re about to read, which i’ve (surprisingly) pared down. i apologize for rogue inconsistencies in capitalization, and any typos, since i am already sick of this post and don’t feel like editing.

thar she blows:


i am thankful for zoloft. although my awareness of it stems back to high school, and, looking back, i think it goes back to elementary school, i was recently diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder and mild depression. i was diagnosed with PMDD (a.k.a. unreasonably bad PMS) a couple years ago, and have tried a couple different birth controls to alleviate the symptoms with no avail. the depression/anxiety is worse in the winter, so there’s probably a splash of seasonal affective disorder in there as well, but we didn’t really talk about that.

anyway, i hesitated for a long time about going on medication, because it usually means that, once you’re on it, you’re on it for good. as someone who takes allergy medicine for up to nine months out of the year, i didn’t want to add something else to the mix that would make me feel more groggy or gross. it turns out i probably should have hit this shit up a long time ago.

in college, especially while accidentally minoring in psychology, i learned a lot about anxiety and depression, and suffered from it often. i would be relatively fun and outgoing (depending on who you ask…take all of this with a grain of salt) for the first semester of school, then when we went back to school in january, my happiness and my level of sanity would decline.

…i actually need to stop myself here and interject that, any reference made to me being a shitty person or a shitty friend are all hearsay. it’s my (albiet waning) self-doubt and lingering pangs of self-hate from my earlier years. i will end up peppering this post with notions that i, at times, have basically been a choad. i pride myself in having a hybrid positive/realistic outlook, and a good sense of humor. i phrase things in ways that make me laugh, so that mixed with my extreme sarcasm can be taken as passive-aggression or negativity, but it’s all in how my words are taken. i really do like myself and think i’m a decent person. okay, back to bullshit:

the winter was basically a spiral of whydon’tboyslikemeback mylifeisinshambles whyamisougly whycan’tisleepallday whydon’tmyfriendslikeme. once the spring came around, i’d tell myself to get over myself, i’d perk back up again, and i’d leave for the summer miserable to be away from my friends. my overall sense of being is to do/say things that make me happy, and that can absolutely be translated into me being obnoxious and overbearing. i get that. unfortunately, second semester rach was obnoxious and overbearing in a negative way, whereas first semester rach was a bit more loveable (if you could stomach her). i often look back at my personality in college and cringe, especially knowing it could have been controlled with medication. especially thinking about failed relationships of all kinds. shudder.

i was similar in high school. i’m pretty sure people probably still think i’m a jerk for being a bad friend or something.

in elementary school i don’t remember how i felt on a day to day basis, but i know i was super sensitive. like, i was one of the kids who’d have an annual cry in the classroom for getting a math problem wrong or some shit. in fourth grade, i won the volleyball championship game for my class and was so overwhelmed by my fleeting athleticism and everyone hugging/liking me that i started to cry. i blamed it on bending my finger back as i served the ball. (i was actually pretty sensitive and prone to crying up until maybe 6 or 7 years ago, probably around the time i met my husband and started to feel more self-confident, but i continue to build up an emotional callus as time goes by.)

around that same time, and i’m trying to remember if it was at the same time my grandmother was diagnosed with cancer, i had a couple compulsive practices. if i tapped my left foot three times and my right foot four, i’d have to tap the left foot one more time to even it out. i’d have to do similar things with any type of food/leg/arm/hand movements. thinking back to this while studying abnomal psych, i concluded that this was probably stress relief/a coping mechanism.

the worst one is something i haven’t told many people, if any at all, although i was asked about it frequently because it was very visual. one night i was having a sleepover and my friend was cutting her hair with scissors i probably lifted from school (because office/school supplies are the SHIT). i ended up accidentally cutting a chunk out of the center of an eyebrow, so i did it to the other side to even it out. it looked stupid and was embarrassing. however, one night i was running my finger over my eyebrows, and i could feel the hair start to grow back. something about the smoothness of my skin in between my remaining eyebrow hair was super nice, so i pulled out one of the hairs that was growing back. i instantly felt super comforted and pulled out all the rest of the regrowth. honestly, when we learned about why people pull out their hair/cut themselves, the sense of relief that cutters and pullers feel is exactly what i felt when pulling out my eyebrow hair. this became a nightly ritual for awhile until i got sick of people asking me what was wrong with my eyebrows. i told myself not to pull out the hair anymore, so i didn’t, and the impulse went away shortly.

i had always been able to talk myself out of shit that i was doing to myself that wasn’t right (other than all the self-deprecation that, realistically, i’ll never get over). with the hair pulling, the extremity tapping, and the depressive episodes, i was able to reach a point where i was like, wait, this sucks. unfortunately, as an adult, you get more and more bullshit to deal with on a daily basis, more responsibility, more sadness/anxiety triggers. i got really anxious while planning my wedding, but it died down a bit after. the following winter was especially depressing for me, and the end of 2011/all of 2012 handed me a large amount of hot turds on a platter. i officially got to a point where i couldn’t talk myself out of feeling like shit.

i attempted cutting myself off from negative people/people who made me feel bad, both in person and via social media. i walked for more parts of my commute to add more daily exercise and natural light into my life. i did all the other things you’re supposed to do to relieve yourself from symptoms of anxiety and depression, and they stopped working.  i was being a bitch/lousy to be around. i was argumentative and i didn’t know why. i literally couldn’t control the nastiness that was spilling out of my mouth.

Enter Zoloft.

i already knew deep down that i had generalized anxiety and mild depression. i knew enough from all my psych classes, and from extensive research. to have it confirmed by a professional was an extreme relief in and of itself. i was put on a very low dose (lower than the typical starting dose) and started to feel a difference within the first week. by week three, i knew for sure it wasn’t just that hopeful, giddy, YAY A NEW REMEDY thing. seven weeks into it and Iive only had one day where i felt depressed. it was for three hours, and it was completely petty and situational. i’m not going to say i’ve been completely cured of anxiety, but the only time i’ve clenched my teeth during a tough work day was this week, and, coincidentally, it was the day after i forgot to take my dose. i was not an asshole pre-menses this time, and i was only surly when THE SECOND STUPID DUNKIN DONUTS I WENT TO IN THIS STUPID TOWN DIDN’T HAVE A GODDAMN CHOCOLATE CHIP MUFFIN AND I HAD TO SETTLE FOR A STUPID ASS LOW FAT BLUEBERRY.

i personally think i’m better to be around. i’m not really the one to confirm that, though.

i sort of wish i’d hit the SSRI sauce sooner, but i’m a firm believer in the notion that things happen for a reason. maybe i needed to be a crybaby kid, a sensitive yet kind of crummy friend probably teen, and a loose cannon college student to become who i am today. underneath any topical lousiness, my general personality that i’ve been crafting for 30 years is something i’m proud of, and i feel like i have myself “back.”

thank you, zoloft. seriously.


7 Sep

i wrote this on august 31st:

i don’t enjoy running. i have been trying to love it for decades. p.s. i am old enough to say “decades” in reference to my life. although i do get the endorphin high after any sort of athletic activity, and i tend to feel super energized and/or super exhausted after running. i just haven’t picked up on the true runner’s high. despite trying couch to 5K, straight up making myself run until i feel like i’m going to puke up every last bit of my guts, etc., i just haven’t found that omgiaminvincible runners high love swoonfest freakout. i really wish i would.

running is just boring to me. i have tried running with various types of music/playlists, with podcasts, with tv, and with silence. i have run alone and with people, inside and outside. i just get so bored. my focus will be on the length of the song and feeling like, OMG WHEN IS THIS GOING TO END?! my outdoor surroundings don’t wizz by fast enough, and the end of the track doesn’t come soon enough. on the treadmill, i focus on the timer or a nearby clock, despite covering the timer with a magazine or my ipod. what i’m saying is i can’t get my head into running. i push myself hard and never feel that clarity, but i really really want to.

today i decided, fuck it, i’m going to commit and make myself love running today. i will run past that “i can’t run anymore” feeling, when it feels like my lungs are going to give out. my brain will be filled with anything but what i’m actually doing. i was actually doing that for the first ten minutes or so of my venture. i spent the first four minutes of my two mile route walking/warming up. about 6.5 minutes into my running, i reached the approximate mile mark. i was starting to approach the point where i needed to push myself past my boundary, and all of a sudden i see about 72 orange cones and workers with sexy dayglo vests, surrounded in a cloud of dust and pavement. the smell of hot asphalt clogged my nose and dust peppered my eyes. keep in mind this was at the peak of a trip that has a slight, yes ass kicking incline the entire time.

i got past the orange cones in the street and was presented with orange cones in the sidewalk, with no indication as to where pedestrians should go. the grassy area next to the sidewalk is crazy uneven, so i decided to walk through that part and start running again once i got to the official halfway point, which is a park. once i arrived, there were approximately 45 people mowing the grass and street sweeping all the pathways. there was literally nowhere for me to run without being stopped by men and machinery.

right now i’m sitting at a picnic table that is absolutely covered in scribbles of people offering phone numbers for dick-sucking services. as with many things in my life, i am finally motivated to do something and i am faced with literal obstacles. i will get there and i will be fine, but this is a metaphor for my whole entire life.

time to make my last mile trip home. it’s mainly uphill but i’m going to try like hell.


as i mentioned, i wrote that on august 31st. that night, i walked the 1.2 miles home from a friend’s house despite three offers for a ride home, because i knew i wouldn’t have time for exercise the next day. i also knew i’d be dancing my ass off at a wedding on september 2nd, so i wanted to keep up with my active weekend lifestyle. on september 1st, my father-in-law passed away unexpectedly.

i am finally motivated to do something and i am faced with literal obstacles. i will get there and i will be fine, but this is a metaphor for my whole entire life.

life is crazy in that, you will put all your focus and energy and determination into something, no matter how trivial, and it can be all erased in a second when something bigger, something of actual importance, takes place. i completely forgot about this blog entry until today.

i’ll start running again soon.

thank you to my father-in-law for my husband. i’ll miss you and love you.


28 Aug

because humidity makes me look gross and feel gross and summer clothes make me look gross and feel gross, i am very excited that fall is approaching. my brain is not in blog writing mode, hence my absence, so i’m going to list the hopes and dreams that motivate me to get out of bed in the morning.

pumpkin flavored everything, ESPECIALLY beer! it’s never too early. NEVER!!!

tights under skirts and dresses! most dresses and skirts are too short for me to wear without something underneath. beav shots aren’t my jam, at least right now.

blazers and pants! i have a few cute pieces i bought right as summer was beginning, so i am excited to finally wear them. i mean fun blazers, not worky ones. ew! i don’t want to wear blazers to work and encourage my bosses into thinking i want to dress up more for work. NO.

AUTUMN SMELLS! i realized recently that, if you sprinkle cinnamon on anything, even dookie or penis or limes, i’ll probably like it.

fall activities, like apple orchards and topsfield fair and being outside without melting and frizzing and sweating profusely!




14 Jul

“once i turn 30 i’m going to write in my blog every day!”

– me on opposite day