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Food hacks that work! Microwaved poached eggs.

Been meaning to try this and it was silly easy! For those of you who are busy, in dorms or don’t have access to stovetops at work, this is great. :)

(if a stovetop poached egg is a 10, these are an 8 with the bonus of being insanely fast)

You’ll need a mug, an egg, water and a sploosh of vinegar.

Crack an egg in a large mug. Add about 1/3 cup of water (more is fine, but takes longer to heat), and a splash of vinegar. Microwave on medium-high for 60 seconds. Drain and bam.

Cooking times vary, and these cook fast. Try a test egg and add subtract 5-10 seconds depending on how you like it. I prefer mine runny (the one pictured is a bit over, but still good), and 60 seconds is perfect. For a more hardboiled poach, 70 seconds did the trick. :)

For all you breakfast skippers, this is wicked! Try it!

Class act, this one. 


Class act, this one.


Have FUN!

Have FUN!

Sun. Sweat. Reset. :)

And from that point on, all choices regarding your body would be your own. Because your body would be your own.

And we all lived authentically ever after…


What’s your JAM these days?


I felt so angry at the UCSB massacre (an article about this incident and a script of his video’s speech) and the sexism we’re blind to everyday so I drew about my opinions on sexism to channel my rage.

I’m very happy the #YesAllWomen tag is going strong on U.S. Twitter right now. :D

Not every “workout” needs a plan! Sometimes it’s fun just to press PLAY and move. :)

My morning playouts include great music, a timer, not caring what people think and the freedom to do whatever I wanna do. The only rules are keep moving and have a good time doing it! Sometimes I crash people’s Frisbee games, play superhero, make random new sweat buddies, get dirty and end up in a playground surrounded by confused moms and kids (a few of whom have become clients). Playouts are amazing. :)

Very sweaty and PLEASED. Hope you have a chance to play today!

A warrior. A poet. An encourager. A light. A woman. Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, was she.

I don’t think I’m alone in saying I am grateful for the words and work of Dr. Maya Angelou. Few words have touched me the way hers have and I’ve shared them here often. Searching for the “best” quote to post to honor her memory proved an enriching, but impossible task (how DOES one pick a favorite? Truthbombs galore). These are just a few of my favs.

But one particular poem has always held a special place in my heart. Even now it’s hard to deny how powerful it feels to read it aloud. If you’ve read it before, you know what I mean. If not, try it now.

A life phenomenally lived and such beautiful, inspiring lessons left for us all. Rest in peace.

*** Phenomenal Woman ***
(by Maya Angelou)

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size.
But when I start to tell them, they think I’m telling lies.

I say…

It’s in the reach of my arms,
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman. Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman, that’s me.

I walk into a room just as cool as you please,
And to a man, the fellows stand or fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me, a hive of honey bees.

I say…

It’s the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman. Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman, that’s me.

Men themselves have wondered what they see in me.
They try so much but they can’t touch my inner mystery.
When I try to show them, they say they still can’t see.

I say…

It’s in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman. Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman, That’s me.

Now you understand just why my head’s not bowed.
I don’t shout or jump about or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing, it ought to make you proud.

I say…

It’s in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
The palm of my hand,
The need for my care.

’Cause I’m a woman. Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That’s me.

Isn’t summer the BEST?

A metaphor I’ve always liked when it comes to being yourself, not caring what others think and putting yourself first is to compare it to having a massive wedgie and being too afraid to fix it in public.

Two options…

1. Fix it. You can risk someone seeing you do it, and yeah, there might be an asshole or two who may secretly judge. But if you laugh it off and remember that everyone knows what a wedgie feels like, you might be able to find some peace. Within a minute, those who happened to notice will have moved on and forgotten… and so will you. Off you go to live and be part of an awesome day. Winner. That’s you.

2. Don’t fix it. Stay uncomfortable, desperately searching for a bathroom, alley or opportunity to do whatcha gotta do (no guarantees you’ll find one). You spend more energy trying to hide your wedgie than dealing with it, and it gets harder to think of anything else. No one notices (because you’re amazing at hiding it), but you’re unable to enjoy your life because you’re preoccupied. Everyone else moves on with their day because whether or not you have a wedgie doesn’t affect them at all. But you’ve missed out. Not exactly winning.

The only person truly affected by ignoring your own needs is you. People move on either way, but you live with the consequences. When faced with the decision to be yourself or hide away, remember that hiding always takes more energy, energy stolen from YOUR life. No one will remember the girl who picked her wedgie, fell during a workout class, dared to bare her cellulite, farted in the library or had a pimple: generally people have better things to do. Being afraid or preoccupied with their opinions only affects you and your ability to enjoy this ONE life you’ve got going on.

So, in short, just pick the wedgie. And walk away like a boss.


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