shoulda put a ring on it

This is easily my favorite YouTube video of all time.

I want a gluten free *sandwich* directory!

Today, I had a massive craving for a burger. The problem? I'm gluten intolerant. I won't die if I eat a piece of bread, but my day is pretty much over; I get cranky, congested and itchy, and develop heartburn that doubles me over in pain. If I'm lucky, I just fall asleep and wake up feeling hungover the next morning.

When I Google "gluten free burger restaurant DC" or any equivalent search phrase, nothing worthwhile comes up. So I'm going to start a new blog label here, called simply "gluten free sandwich." Every time I encounter a restaurant that offers gluten free bread or buns as an option for their sandwiches, it will get that tag. It's unlikely Hopefully one day, there will be enough options that I can start my own app or directory or what have you, but until then, here are my only three current contributions:

Red Robin: this is a national chain, but they are delicious and offer gluten free buns for their burgers. That plus bottomless steak fries equals fat gluten free kid heaven.

Jimmy John's: again, a chain. But the JJ Unwiches are pretty much the stuff dreams are made of. Leave the cheese off, and they're even paleo. The Italian Night Club unwich made me feel bad for people who eat bread - they have to chew through all of that dough nonsense before they get to the good stuff inside.

The Wicked Waffle: a sandwich shop that puts all of its sandwiches on halves of Belgian waffles would totally creep me out, if they didn't offer gluten free waffles. The parking is atrocious, inside the place looks like a Bourbon Street daiquiri shop and the music is strictly Euro-crap, but if I can eat a gluten-free version of every single sandwich on the menu, I can put up with a whole lot.

because I felt like it

That's right. I ate two Filet-o-Fish sandwiches in one sitting. Yeah, I'm gluten intolerant.

But I figure if these painkillers are going to make me sleepy, itchy and cranky anyway, I might as well be those things and full of Filet-o-Fish.

So suck on that, body. I do what I want.

the Whole30 yards

It's been a tough year in the fledgling Jolly-Paleos home. We've lost an unusually high number of friends and family this year, we've both left jobs we quite liked with no success in finding new ones, and school has felt like more of a struggle than an opportunity. I'm trying to stay upbeat, but the stress of this year is really starting to show in one place in particular:

My backside.

In early 2011, I completely re-tooled my eating habits and simply by changing my diet, went from a tired, dimply 196 to a slimmer, more energetic 170. In six months. I also learned that I am either allergic or very sensitive to wheat and corn, and eliminated them both wheat from my diet (tacos, y'all, tacos - but I do minimize corn consumption to times when the only other option is wheat). I'm noticing that the added stress of this very difficult first year of marriage has led to more binge-cheat days than usual, and this morning afternoon, I weighed in at 182.5.

It's time to get serious about a healthier body again.

It's not just about my weight. I know that my mood and my eating habits are very closely related. So why not pre-emptively strike during a particularly tough month? I'm going back to a paleo diet by completing another Whole30. Today is Day 2.

What does this mean? It means that for the next 30 days, I'm only eating meat, fish, eggs, vegetables, fruit and nuts. That's it. 

Mmm, breakfast.

Will it be easy? Hell no! My 30th birthday is this month. I'm going to the beach with friends from New Orleans this week. And as I type, my sister is devouring a bag of Utz salt-and-vinegar chips, and I'm fighting every fiber of my being to not club her with my Nalgene, steal the bag and go hide in my room while I lick chip-dust off my fingers. I couldn't get those in New Orleans, and plus, they're gluten-free, right? Yes, but that's clearly not good enough any more. Not sick does not equal good for me.

So let's do the damn thing, Jolly. We're gonna feel good again.

One day, I'm gonna fit these pants again, too.

Cherry Blossom Cakes

I can't remember the last time I ate cake. If I knew then it would be the last time I had cake, I'm sure I would have remembered and savored it; I used to buy whole birthday sheet cakes when I had the craving for cake.

But this bakery makes me so happy. Their cakes are a little pricey to just up and buy for a craving, but I'm CERTAINLY looking forward to a gluten-free devils food cake for my birthday in August.

a truly DMV day

OK, so I can't even put all of today's awesomeness into words. (I just went back to read this after I finished, and clearly I can put today into words. Lots of words.)

I got a late start, thanks to the bottle of wine from our wedding. But I picked my baby sister up from her last day of the year at my high school (okay, our high school) at 12:15. I hung around for a while to chat with my favorite teacher and a former classmate who is now a teacher there. I told my sister she could have lunch anywhere she wanted as a "hooray, you finished your sophomore year" treat. And of course the little girl says Chick and Ruth's in Annapolis.

Have you ever had a Chick and Ruth's crab cake? They are amazing.The guy in the visitor's center scoffed when we said Chick and Ruth's had the best crabcake of all time, but when I explained to him that I just moved back from New Orleans, where they put dill and green peppers in their crabcakes, he was aghast. "Go to Chick and Ruth's already!" he said. Done.

Crabcakes, chili fries, pickles and unsweet tea? Um, heaven. Sign me up for round two. Then Libs and I started an African-American history walking tour of downtown Annapolis, but gave up when we realized we'd just missed the Banneker-Douglass Museum. We compensated by getting ice cream and candy from Kilwin's, then headed back to my folks' house in Suitland.

I surprised my sister by stopping in a mega-church's parking lot on the way home. She just got her learner's permit, and my parents refuse to let her drive their manual transmission car. So I taught her the basics in my 1990 Honda Civic. I was so impressed with how quickly she picked it up, until she forgot to push the clutch in as she came to her first stop, and plowed my car into a "parking for church elders only" sign.

Thank God my car is old enough to drink.

She regained her composure, though, and redeemed herself (and my clutch) with a few pretty successful drills of buying me imaginary curly fries in the drive-through lane of an abandoned Arby's. We got home just as our folks returned from work. My dad decided that celebration dinner was in order; my sister declared that it was pho night. There aren't a whole lot of Vietnamese restaurants in P.G. County, so we headed over to Fairfax, near where my husband grew up, and grabbed dinner. My mom hates pho, so watching her navigate the menu is always hilarious.

We picked up my husband from dinner with his mom nearby, and after picking up my car at my folks', we headed to the Revivalists' show at Velvet Lounge. Did I mention in my post about the show how incredible they are? SO. GOOD. While Nick sat and made friends/scouted for jobs at the bar, I walked down the street to 7-Eleven.

Let's talk about 7-Eleven. They don't have them in Louisiana. I was raised on a diet of Coke Slurpees, chili cheese half-smokes and Jamaican beef patties: what? my parents were busy people. I recently discovered that I was allergic to wheat, but there are two foods in the world I will never give up, despite what wheat they may bring: fried chicken and Jamaican beef patties. Do you know how long it's been since I had a beef patty? So I marched down to the 7-Eleven on U Street, and got two. The best part? The almost-skeevy dudes who hit on me on the way down were so clearly college educated, and respectful. Could I have done without the attention? Hell yes. But were they really nice, really interesting guys? Hell yes. It's D.C. What else would they be?

I got back as the show was over, and drove El Hubs back to his mom's house in Fairfax, since he's got a meeting with a friend out here early in the morning. But as I sit here eating this Kilwin's crab claw (cashews, caramel and milk chocolate), I realized that today is the kind of day that I could only have in D.C. Three states, one day, nothing but awesome.

I have been unhappy for a long time. And by a long time, I mean five years. Which is exactly how many years I lived in New Orleans. I loved my life today in a way I haven't loved my life since I left. Nick keeps asking, "Are you drunk? Are you OK to drive?" 

Boo-boo, I had two ciders. I just love being home. I'm OK to drive here for the rest of my life.

our first anniversary

My husband and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary today. In characteristic fashion, we did not-so-special things that feel awfully special to us, since we can't couldn't do them in New Orleans.

What does that mean? Lunch at Chipotle. A trip to the zoo. Dinner at Tony Cheng's Mongolian barbecue. Dessert and drinks at Old Ebbitt Grill (he was too full for oysters, sadface).

I love the prairie dogs!

Tearing it up at Mongolian barbecue

But most importantly, we had our first meeting with a realtor. She was beyond lovely - she's a keeper. The one. Our realtor. A far cry from the other realtors I've contacted, who don't return my phone calls or emails. I couldn't think of a better way to spend our first anniversary. The whole way home, Nick has been saying over and over, "We're going to be homeowners" and beaming. It's all pretty exciting stuff. Now, we're kicked back on the couch with a bottle of wine we saved from our wedding. You know, since eating year-old freezer cake is gross.

To my husband: May the brightest days of our past be the darkest days of our future. I love you.

He tripped over the broom the first time. This is take two.