This is my last blog entry.

I’ve been writing this blog for over two and a half years.  Sometimes I look back and marvel on how much things have changed…yet still somehow remained the same.  I’ve grown, I’ve regressed, I’ve managed to piss people off…wash, rinse, repeat.

The past six months or so this blog has become more of a retreat than ever.  I finally started writing for myself, when and what I wanted to write.  But as things changed, I felt disconnected from certain elements of blogging and began editing myself more than ever.  There are whole blocks of my life–my family, work, relationships with men and friends–that I don’t feel the freedom to explore.  I realize these are contradictory statements, but it seems the more you want to open up the more you realize you cannot.  This is probably for the best; not every thought is meant to be spoken nor every feeling ripe for analysis.

Instead I have been focusing on myself, the Lexa away from this blog.  Shocking news that she actually exists!  But I do, thank God.  I got a new job five months ago and really hit it off with most everyone. I get along well with my boss and when he quit a few weeks back, he asked me to come with him.

Next week I start working for the food and restaurant industry. To say I am thrilled is an understatement.

As I don’t have a lingering desire to be dooced, to blow my career, stepping away from this space seems necessary.  It is time for me to live life away from the internet, to focus on something else.  I cannot imagine I will stop writing, but this is a chapter that needs to end. Maybe I will finally submit some of this. Perhaps I will show up sometime in the future with a completely food free focus.  Who knows.

I have met so many amazing people all over the country thanks to this act of narcissism.  I hope I can hold on to most of you and I have become a real person, more than just words on a page.  Let’s be honest though; the internet is not all joy and lollipops.  There are some real fuckers out there–sexist, racists, delusional man children with God complexes–and I have even had the distinct privilege of dating/fucking/loving a few.  To them, I say good luck with life!

There is a certain amount of hubris that goes in to writing a blog, or for that matter a “farewell” post.  I never claimed to be free of ego. What I can say is this: this blog has brought me more joy, support and laughs than you all can ever imagine.  Who knew people were as sick, twisted, and ridiculous as me?  Fuck, I will even miss the hate mail and nasty comments; it serves me well to be reminded of my flaws.

I will miss this, you…but it is time. To everyone, the readers, commenters, perverts, foodies, lurkers…thank you.

I want you to take out a pencil and mark the date. I am about to say something that will blow your mind.

I am sick of food.

There was Vegas and the holidays and then a few good weeks and then my birthday. And there has been dinner and cake and treats from my friends and boy, it has been lovely. My friends know me. Dangle a steak in front of me and you will witness my heart soar, but I feel gross.

I have reached max capacity. I need a cleanse. I tried to post a recipe and I could not even face it. This is a crises, people.

I turn to you. I need help. What do you eat when you need a cleanse? Guide me, oh wise ones. I don’t often ask to be bossed around…well, at least fully clothed…so take this chance while you can.

Today, I am 29.

I fully realize there is nothing more grating than a woman who is still relatively young whining about her age, but this year has been hard. I feel like it is punching me in the face.  I am a glass half empty kinda gal and all I can do is think of the things I haven’t done or what I haven’t accomplished. I have been spectacularly dramatic about the whole thing, as to be expected.

I’m not one of those “but I feel so young!” kind of people.  I have earned my 29 years.  My heart has been trampled, my armor chinked and my defenses are hard earned. I am more scared at 29 than I ever was at 19; I was too stupid then to realize how shitty life can be sometimes. But since I am 29, not 19, I know I am not unique: we all feel this way.

Sometimes I wear myself out with my constant internal dialogue, the self scrutiny.  My issues–battles with my weight and extraordinarily unachievable goals of perfection–are here for the long haul.  I work on them, yes, but sometimes I don’t want to fucking work on myself.  I want to just be. I suppose I wish I didn’t know myself so well.

But there is the rub: I know myself painfully well and I would argue it is my biggest achievement.  Yes, I am intolerable and gluttonous and self important at times, but this is who I am.  I remember birthdays.  I am determined as hell. I will cut someone who screws with me.  I make ridiculous statements about my trampled heart and the hardness of life when all in all life hasn’t been so awful to me. I have deep and meaningful friendships, yet I am smart enough to know life isn’t a popularity contest.  I have a strong streak of vanity. I am the person people turn to when they are in crises. I listen, I am empathetic, but I will never tell people what they want to hear if it isn’t the truth. I am self assured.

The past few days I have been awash in love.  Cards have been filling my mailbox.  Surprise gifts have arrived.  I have eaten far too well as a queue of people has materialized demanding to take me to dinner. I have got to be doing something right.  I’ve worked 29 years to become the person I am today.  It hasn’t always been pretty but this is the life I earned.

I wouldn’t change anything.

I visited J & G Steakhouse about a month and a half ago.

A bit telling I am just writing about it now, no?

Now, first let me say this: DC needs another fucking steakhouse like I need a dick in the ass. It is worse than burger joints, froyo shops and cupcakeries combined but the big difference is I LOVE RED MEAT. If it wasn’t the axis of evil, I would eat it every day. So while I get sick of tiny plates and subpar cupcakes, I will never tire of a slab of half twitching cow.

If a steakhouse opens in DC, I will be there.   I will bring my dear friend Irish Lebowski as a birthday treat as she is also a lover of the meat, and I will expect it to be amazing.  DC is the big leagues when it comes to the stuff and nothing less than A game is acceptable.

And J & G, I am sorry, but I gotta give you a B.

Let me give it to you straight, J & G:

You didn’t advertise that there were spicy peppers on your pecan salad.  It was an odd choice to begin with, but especially agravating as Irish is breast feeding and she is avoiding all things that may upset Baby L.

Your potato gratin was uninspired, certainly not the best I have ever had.

The cookies on your cookie plate should have been warm. They would have been ten times better.

You did absolutely nothign about the patrons at the table behind us who were engaged in activities far too amorous for a public dining room.

Your decor was generic.

But…your short ribs were pretty damn great.

Your filet mignon was cooked perfectly to temperature with a delightful crust.

Despite being out of season, your asparagus pleased me to no end.

You remembered Irish’s birthday and sent out a desert free of charge, which was quite a nice touch.

Much like the tenses in this post, J&G, you were all over the place. Your highs were hella high and your lows were pretty disappointing. A “B” just does not cut it.

You ain’t the only steak joint in town. There are a million more in DC that I would be willing to lay my ass on the line for.  Time to clean up your act.

You can email me at lemmonex (at) gmail (dot) com for the password to my most recent post.

If I do not send it to you, it really isn’t personal…just an act of self preservation. Or cowardice.

Thanks for reading, as always.

CraftSteak was a disappointment.  It pains me to say this.

Now, the company was excellent.  I really dug the interior.  The decor wasn’t fussy or over the top. The menu was very simply laid out, which we all appreciated.  Our service was very good; they were attentive without being intrusive.

But the food? Not so much.

The mushrooms were bland.  The potato and leak gratin was uninspired. The bread placed out before the meal was just…there.

But the main culprit? Salt.  Holy hell, everything was oversalted. As you know, I am no wimp when it comes to salt, but this was insane.  In fact, it was so bad, Cindarella actually sent her scallops back from her surf and turf; they were inedible.  The fries were parching and the risotto was just as bad. 

I am not exagerating; I had chapped lips the next day.  I felt like my insides were pruned.

There were some stars; my key lime martini, rimmed with graham crackers, was amazing.  Tart with a contrasting sweetness, I really loved it.  My hangar steak, while also a touch salty, was wonderful. The brussel sprouts, braised to caramel perfection, made me unbelievably happy.  I could see where the restaurant could be amazing.

I have some theories as to what went wrong.  The restaurant was slow, which could have caused laziness.  It being the week before Christmas, I suspect the “JV team” may have been in the kitchen.  That being said, we were not playing JV team prices.  As I was very lucky to be treated to this meal, I don’t know the final total, but I have a very good guess.  For what was paid, there should not have been so many foibles.

Tom Colicchio, you have failed me.

I leave for Vegas tonight. Ya know, I may have mentioned it once or twice, this upcoming trip to Vegas.

I am not going to mention the stress I feel about getting out of buried DC, or how I am going to have to take a fistful of klonopin in order to put on a bathing suit.

I keep telling myself it will be fine. Lying to myself is one of my better skills.

Soon, I will be there, celebrating the birthday of one of the most important people in the world to me. The trip is all about her, but I am going to be bold enough to say that we both kind of need it after this year.

God, that sounds dramatic. I know life isn’t so bad, but if given the opportunity, I would poke 2009 in the eye with a stick.

So, off I go. I promised my mom we would not do anything too stupid, so I plan to stick to that. Now can anyone tell me what is too stupid as opposed to just stupid?

There will be much food and fun. Then I get on the plane Thursday morning to go see my parents in Florida. I am already preparing myself for what is sure to be an awful flight, but it is worth it.

Perhaps I will be on later this week, perhaps not. If you are the kind of person who celebrates Christmas, I hope yours is merry. To everyone, hope you have a lovely week.

Yay!  Congrats to Roni.  She was the number two commenter.  If you look closely, you can see the 2.  I am not wearing my glasses, so as I admit it is ahrd to read. Also, I know I should be wearing my glasses but they don’t really work with my outfit.

Anyway, Roni, you won some awesome soap from Hannah Brown Apothecary and now you will smell delightful.

I will be in touch soon so you can pick out your soap.

And everyone else, go check out Caitlin’s awesome stuff.  This is an order.

I am many, many things, but I would never claim to be natural.

I am not saying I am unnatural, per se…but, well last week I went a day without wearing nail polish, the first day in years, and I considered it an act of bravery.

So, no. I don’t see me eschewing my MAC anytime soon.

When my friend Caitlin mentioned she was making soaps and gave me a free sample to try, I was skeptical. It just seemed hippy dippy to me. Yes, I realize this makes me seem like a huge asshole and an awful friend, but I am just being honest here. Doubts. I had them.

Well, knock me over with a feather; I was really impressed. Super duper impressed actually and honestly, I would not say something like this if it wasn’t the truth. It smelled great, I left my skin feeling insanely soft, and it wasn’t loaded with chemicals. My skin is no doubt subjected to enough. It was a nice break for the good old epidermis. I mean it is my skin, I wear it everyday. I really should give it some love.

It is a small thing to do, but I really adore this stuff. Soap is one of those things I never spent much time thinking about, but thank God Caitlin did. She knew she wanted something all natural, only the good stuff and that she wanted to get back to the basics and treat herself and her skin well, because what she was using (commercial soap) wasn’t working.

It is a perfect time to start thinking about this stuff, what with the New Year around the corner and all. How can we do small things to treat ourselves better?  What health or lifestyle changes are you interested in making? Sure, this was a small change, but an easy one for me.  It doesn’t always have to be so difficult.

Caitlin is being awesome enough to give away a bar of her awesome soaps.  They are made with love right out of her house and I give them an enthusiastic, manicured thumbs up.  To win a bar, please let me know any changes you may be making in the new year, big or small.  Or, tell me you are perfect and you don’t need to change a thing. Head over to her shop and take a look.  I am partial to the pink grapefruit myself (pictured), but they are all great.  The contest closes tomorrow at 5 pm, but if you want to order some for the holidays, go over and do it today so you can get it in time. (Sorry, she can only ship in the US.) The winner gets a bar of their choice.

See? Simple, easy, and good for you…and you don’t even have to give up your favorite blue nail polish.