by Jayne Chobot
Foodie is not a word that I enjoy or use to call myself. I do like food, a lot, and after years of working in hospitality and with a healthy dose of curiosity, I know quite a bit about it. I even cook it. But really I’m just a very passionate and sensual person, enjoying all senses with equal vigor. A great meal in my book satisfies all of them; it’s beautifully presented, obviously it smells and tastes good, and it’s enjoyed while surrounded with good company. Continue reading
by Jayne M. Chobot
I have gained ten pounds, give or take, since moving to Dallas in November. This has several causing factors, including a 20-fold increase (at least) of my annual consumption of Tex-Mex cuisine, a decrease in the necessity for running for a train in 3-inch heels several times a day, a Texas-sized refrigerator right upstairs from my work-at-home office, and an overall lessening of hourly stress (like trying to dodge tourists around Rockefeller Center). Thankfully, as my Texan so eloquently puts it, the weight “is in all the right places,” supposedly. Still, when you’re used to feeling lighter on your feet, the extra pounds can inspire you to make a few changes.
The last time I was in a gym was 2004. But in my ongoing quest to relax and get both my body and mind healthier now that I’ve left the big bad big apple, I decided to take a mere two block stroll from my new house and try yoga for the first time in my life. I always had real excuses not to try yoga before: no time, no money, the logistics of getting to a studio using public transportation, too much work to do, and a simple lack of necessity in my logical mind. But like everything else in relation to my move down here, the obstacles all moved aside in one cohesive sweep and a path was cleared for my next step in my journey of new Texan self-discovery. Continue reading
by Jayne M. Chobot
A few years back a Texan I had met through work was in New York, where I lived, on business. He invited me to join him for dinner, and the location was my choice. As we had already expressed mutual interest in one another (at an event on the fabulous rooftop of Chicago’s Wit Hotel) a month earlier, we both knew that our first night out alone together in New York would be a test of sorts, as first dates always are. To be quite honest, I wasn’t sure if this gentleman from the south could handle my crazy Manhattan lifestyle and tastes, and figured I might as well figure it out before this went any further. Continue reading