Have you ever worked out at the gym until your face was beet red and radiating heat? And no matter how much you try, you can’t lift another weight because your legs are shaking and you feel like you’re going to spontaneously combust from the inside out? And you have to talk yourself into being able to do 10 more seconds of climbing the stairs, or 5 more reps one bicep curl or another, I can’t remember. These are what my Tuesdays and Thursdays have been like for the past 2 months or so. Yes it’s true, I caved in and found myself employing a personal trainer to whip me into shape, or at least try to.

This might be child’s play for some people, but for me, as someone whose only exercise has consisted of running to get to the next store in the mall before they close and running to find a place to eat because of hunger that’s settled in, this is a huge deal. Big. Gargantuan. Humongous.

I signed up for 10 sessions of personal training at a gym close to where I work, and this coming tuesday will be the last of my sessions, unless I decide to fork over some more money and continue.

After 6 weeks of blood, sweat, tears and stress, I can say that it was definitely worth it, even though I haven’t followed the diet (or cardio) to a tee. For someone like me, who views exercising like the plague, having someone tell you exactly what you need to do, how much you need to do and then forcing you to do it, is the best way to accomplish any type of exercise goals you set for yourself.

If I was to do this on my own, without a trainer (which I tried to do and failed miserably in the past), I would never have known how to use more than half of any of the weight machines in the gym, or that I do have some upper body strength which I never knew about, or that over time, I really did get stronger. It’s worth the money. I wish I could leave work and life in general to spend 3 or 4 months just concentrating on getting myself in shape, just like The Biggest Loser. I think that’s really the only way to do it. If nothing gets in your way, then you have no excuse but to achieve your weight loss/physical goals. But life just sometimes, get in the way. I told my trainer that life sometimes just gets in the way and he got mad and said, “well, let’s just make a gym and call it ‘Life Gets In The Way Gym.’” Go figure.

So Tuesday will be my last training session. I most probably won’t continue, but that doesn’t mean I won’t continue doing weights. Now that I won’t have commitments to attend the sessions, I’m going to be using that time to do cardio. Hopefully the muscle I’ve supposedly built will come through once I melt the fat away with diet and cardio. My weight loss goals are a bit insignificant compared to life changing goals some people might have; I only really need to lose about 15 to 20 lbs, still however, doing that is horribly difficult, as anyone who has tried can tell you.

1 lb is equal to 3500 calories. That means, that if I wanted to lose 20 lbs, I would need to burn 700,000 calories. I get discouraged just by looking at that number. I feel like the best advice I can give anyone who is trying to lose weight is to prepare. Preparation is key. Prepare your food, your menu beforehand, prepare your day beforehand to fit in some exercise. Prepare a water bottle to take with you wherever you go. It’s when you’re not prepared, that you run into trouble. It’s when you’re invited to eat out that you can’t resist or when you don’t plan your lunch, that you forget that you shouldn’t be eating what you end up eating. So make a list and plan your meals, plan your day more or less. Because without a rigid plan, you won’t lose weight. And really, I guess that philosophy extends to all parts of life. If you’re going to do things half-assed, there’s no point in doing them really.

Prom season is here – I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not, but it meant that my sister, who will be graduating from high school this year, needed all the help she could get. Fortunate enough to find a dress and jewelry on the first try, the focus came down to shoes, a bag and the biggest task of all, finding enough material to construct an Indian inspired tent for her graduation after party. Let me just say, that this is by no means a small task. We really didn’t know where to start, but we thought we’d just wing it and try to find enough material to form a nice tent in my backyard. At first, we were going to go through a rental company, but we figured that was way beyond our budget.

So we set off to Downtown Los Angeles, more specifically the Fashion District, where mountains and mountains of excruciatingly beautiful fabric awaited us. We tried several stores and finally settled on a 100 percent turquoise blue silk as the main fabric, with iridescent mustard yellow and orange as accents and the inside of the tent. Along the way we picked up fabric flowers to sew on ourselves, more shiny fabric, bead trimmings and a couple dresses that we couldn’t resist. Honestly, you can’t go to Downtown and come back empty handed. It just doesn’t work. The universe won’t allow it.

After all that hullabaloo, we started to get hungry. This was a bad sign for me, as Downtown Los Angeles is the worst place for a vegetarian. You can not only smell the hotdogs wrapped in bacon from miles away, but the worst part is, that you actually WANT ONE! I couldn’t eat until I found a stand selling quesadillas, and believe you me, it was perhaps one of the best things I have ever eaten in my life.

Then I started to get thirsty, so we ducked into a corner shop and bought a drink you would only think of buying when you’re in such a crazy place like downtown: Martinelli’s Sparkling Apple Juice:

After the apple juice quenched our thirsts, we made our way to Santee Alley – perhaps the defining landmark in Downtown, at least as far as shopping is concerned anyway. Santee Alley is exactly what it says it is, an alley, except this alley is jam crammed on both sides with all of the latest fake (and cheap!) designer fashions, toys, and other goods you can imagine. It also has some “original” stores, at least by Downtown standards. It feels like it goes on for miles, but it really doesn’t. After going through the alley for a couple minutes, you start to get drunk on the fact that everything around you is so incredibly dirt cheap. The fact that you can buy the same shoes Urban Outfitters carries with a 75 percent price decrease seriously boggles your mind, and you start to become a shopping fiend. Downtown is completely a different world and you become a completely different person in it.

When we finally made our way out of the alley, we came away with the last piece of the prom puzzle, an evening bag – for $15! Yes that’s right, 15 big ones. God I love this place. We were ready to head back to the car, when all of my dreams came floating down to Earth from heaven. We had come upon a street vendor selling the best thing you will ever taste in your whole entire life: Mexican-style grilled corn on the cob

This is the food of the Gods, at least in Mexico. When you take a bite, you’re not taking a bite out of corn, you’re taking a bite out of Heaven. If you’re not quite sure what I’m talking about, I will reference Nacho Libre for you. Case in point:

This corn on the cob, also called Elote, is a popular street food in Mexico. After the corn is grilled on a makeshift grill, it is then smothered with mayonnaise, lime juice, parmesan cheese, chili powder, red pepper, cumin and salt. Once you have an Elote, you will never look at corn the same way again. I guarantee it. You could be having the worst day of your life, but an Elote will make everything better. Trust me on this one. I found two recipes that might be able to do the street vendor version justice, one from Recipe Zaar and another from Simple Foodie.

As I was eating the corn, the Elotero asked me, “Muy bueno, Mija?”

I have taken 3 years of Spanish in high school, but at that moment, with the corn stuffed in my face, it took me about 5 seconds to process what he had just said and another 5 to answer back, and when I finally did, what I did say sounded more like “Mu Bono” than “Muy Bueno.” That was a bit upsetting, but I really didn’t care one bit. An Elote a day, will take all your cares and worries away.

We rode off into the smog filled Los Angeles sunset with empty wallets and full stomachs. It was beautiful.

On Thursday, after a treacherous day at work, I made my way across town to see Adele kick off her U.S tour at The Roxy in Hollywood. After grabbing a quick bite to eat, I stood in line for what seemed like eternity, but it was about an hour in real time. Once inside The Roxy, the room began to swell with fans. It was hot, sweaty, crowded and full of people I wanted to have nothing to do with. When the lights dimmed and the curtains were raised at 9:30 p.m., all of that just melted away. Out came Adele, ginger hair complete with blunt bangs, casual getup and a nervous smile.

She apologized for taking so long, her strong North London accent echoing in the ears of all her Los Angeles fans. Needless to say, it was more than a fantastic night.

Adele sang “Cold Shoulder,” “Right as Rain,” “First Love,” “Melt my Heart to Stone,” “Crazy,” “Hometown Glory”, “Make You Feel My Love,” “Daydreamer,” a song by Liverpool band The Coral (I think it was “Dreaming of You”) and also an Etta James cover – “Fool That I Am”

I love this woman. She’s so…fresh. And unique and actually has genuine talent. I rarely by concert tickets. Rarely. But I had to see her, because she’s awesome.

I got home quite late that night, and I had work the next day. I was tired, cranky and had a lot to get done, but it was all worth it. Thank you Adele, for an amazing show.

Special deals on ploms and brocully this week. Check back next week, when pares, q-cumbors and onyons go on sale.

I have spent the last hour pressing the Stumble! button I’ve installed on my browser, and let me tell you, I have learned so much already. Since I’m nice, I will share the information I’ve come across with the 2.5 people that read this blog. I’ve learned that next week (May 19 – 25) is World Vegetarian Week and that Johnny Rockets is giving away Boca burgers for free with a coupon, I’ve found a recipe for Whole Wheat Banana Walnut Pancakes, I’ve been introduced to a website called The Meatrix,a project dedicated to educating the world about cruel farming conditions for animals, I’ve found a list of 50 tools that can help you in writing, and read that “Ulysses” remains the Matterhorn of the modern novel, a peak that many contemplate and few actually surmount. I’ve found seven delicious meat alternatives and also a website called Anxiety Culture, which is a web magazine with a wealth of ideas and gimmicks for navigating the crazy, paranoid, work-obsessed and media-crapulent times we live in.

Let me just take a moment here to say that I LOVE THE INTERNET SO MUCH!!! There are just so many things to learn and so little time! It’s really upsetting that I don’t have enough time or energy to consume all that I want. This is where StumbleUpon comes in handy. Thank you Internet Gods, for bestowing this gift upon me. I foresee many sleepless nights ahead.

It’s Thursday night in Los Angeles. The weather is a bit on the hot side and I’m trying to recover from a very long and stressful week. So, let’s talk about my new found fascination for country music – something I never ever ever thought I would ever grow fond of in my life.

I think it boils down to one of my favorite people in the world: Dolly Parton. I love this woman. She can do no wrong in my eyes, no matter how big her breasts get, or if she teases her blond hair up until they reach the high heavens. She’s fantastic.

I think I’ve listened to “Jolene” and “When I Sing For Him” a million times in the last two weeks. And she was on American Idol as a mentor a couple weeks ago. God I love her.

I’ve also been listening to some of Tim McGraw’s stuff. I can’t believe I just wrote that sentence. It’s like a guilty pleasure or something. I mean, I shouldn’t feel too bad about it, after all, Elvis Presley and Johnny Cash had their roots in Country music, and I loved them while I disliked most of Country music.

And let me just say, I do love me some “Urban Cowboy.” I remember seeing it the first time in my cousin’s cramped room. There must have been about 8 of us at some kind of family gathering or another, trying to escape adult conversation. So we watch Urban Cowboy instead. I must have been no more than 14. I’ve also been to Barona Resort and Casino when I was 18, which is endorsed by Country star Kenny Rogers. It was my first taste in gambling and it didn’t hurt that Kenny Rogers was the face of Barona, I don’t particularly like his music, but his kitschy qualities and squinty eyes were enough to win me over.

Even the guy on the right can’t resist his white bearded charm.

I also do love watching “Reba” starring Reba McEntire. She’s not only hilarious, but I can’t get over her thick accent and the fact that no one else on the show ( except her ex-husband’s wife) has the same southern drawl. God knows how many times I’ve sang along to Carrie Underwood’s “Before He Cheats” and I totally stood up for the Dixie Chicks when the Bible belt was crucifying them for saying they were ashamed of our President. When will it be 2009? The comments they made should have been enough to get him impeached.

But anyway, I digress. What I’m trying to say is, I guess in some form or another, Country music has always been subliminally a part of my life, whether I like to admit it or not. I’ve always loved snippets of it, but this year I realize I’ve come full circle. So now, If I meet someone who scoffs at mere idea of country music, I can explain that Dolly Parton is perhaps the greatest woman in the world and that I’m sure they totally love the Dixie Chick’s cover of Stevie Nick’s “Landslide.” I’d dare them to listen to “Suspicions” without singing along. It’s impossible. Also, if you listen to it once, you won’t be able to stop. Fair warning. In the end, I am just a city girl with a country heart.

Henry before:

Henry after:

He’s gone from a Maltese to a little white lamb. I take him to a really awesome grooming place called La Cañada Pet Grooming. They even dress him up with a bow!

I don’t think it gets any better than that. I bet dog grooming is such a difficult job. Sometimes I have trouble handling one dog, I don’t know how they do it day in and day out. I dropped him off at 8:30 a.m. and picked him at 12. He stays there longer than I do at the salon. They even offer a “Doggie-Wrap,” which consists of applying a re-moisturizing conditioner into the coat, followed by a warm wrap of steamed towels. At first I was a bit wary of cutting his hair this short, but I think he likes it. He seems to move around easier at least and hasn’t slipped once on the parquet floors.

The groomer keeps a little record of each dog, kinda like files at a doctor’s office. When I saw his file, there was note on it that said, “screams, wiggles around.” Screams! His screams are so terribly high pitched too. That was around the first time I ever took him to grooming, while he was still a puppy. Apparently, he was quite the gentlemen this time around. Oh look how far you’ve come Sir Henry.

I have about 9 drafts saved on my blog that I want to write, but haven’t had the time, patience or energy to finish. You have to be in a certain mood to write, especially to write well and I am not in that mood at the moment.

This weekend I must:

•Take Henry to grooming and get him new food

• Buy pillows and sew covers for them

• Organize my bills

• Organize my room which I never ever get to do fully

• Plant my herb garden

• Organize my purse and planner

• Manicure and pedicure (this is wishful thinking)

It doesn’t sound like much, but believe you me, it’s going to be very difficult to do all of that in the 48 hour time period known as “the weekend.” I hope to be back soon with more substantial posts.

Photo by Jens-Ulrich Koch

The weekend is over. It’s 11:55 p.m. and I am quite frankly, dreading work tomorrow. Not only do I have catching up to do since I missed Friday, I also have a Monday morning meeting. I hate meetings with all of my life. I always manage to fall asleep in them. I’m like Chandler in Friends, when he falls asleep one of his company meetings and unbeknownst to him, gets caught up in being selected to move to Kansas, I think. Either way, meetings are hell. But let’s not talk about that. Let’s talk about nice things, like how I spent the weekend with Henry, watched Om Shanti Om, went to the Montrose Farmer’s Market where I bought fresh strawberries, drank some horchata, and also made a trip to India’s Sweets and Spices in Los Feliz. I’d say this was a pretty well rounded and good weekend.

Summer is most definitely here, at least in Los Angeles any way, then again when is it not here? Shoes, in my opinion are the most important part of any outfit. So here, I present my top picks for all the Summer shoes that I want and many that I most probably can’t have.

Smoke Tree Sandals: Anthropologie : $88

Matika Filigree Thong: Urban Outfitters: $98

Jeffrey Campbell ‘Roman Beads’ Sandal: Nordstrom: $70