I blame my hectic childhood. You’d think with all that I went through, I’d latch onto habits as a sense of normalcy, and yet I’m an adult who can’t stick with a 30-day, or even 7-day plan.

For years, I’ve been this way because it felt too overwhelming to do otherwise. I was busy dealing with my anxiety, stress or some deep-rooted issues that demanded a lot of my time. I had a hard enough time finding the energy and fortitude to leave my house, interact with the world and feed myself, let alone exercise four times per week, floss, do yoga, journal, take vitamins and any other habit of the month.

Now, well, I am five some-odd years into therapy and no longer have the crippling anxiety that made it tough to leave my house. The anxiety and stress no longer occupy huge swaths of my time and I find myself with enough time on my hands to dedicate to a habit.

It’s time I hold myself accountable. I can no longer fall back on any excuses for why I can’t stick with a behavior. I am completely capable of maintaining a routine that makes time for the things I actually want to do, like fitness, flossing, eating well and actually taking care of my body. I’ve spent years taking care of my mind and soul, it’s time to turn my attention.

So this is all just a long-winded explanation of my year’s resolution; to challenge myself to keep habits. I’d say “keep just one habit,” but I know I can do better than that. I’ve been too soft on myself for too long and you can’t grow unless you challenge yourself.

This is hardly the worse cold I’ve had, but it’s in the top five. To make matters worse, it’s HOT in the Bay Area this week. Really, really hot, by San Francisco standards at least. Having lived in Arizona for seven years, I am used to the soul-crushing dry heat, and I moved to San Francisco to get away from it. That’s why I am always bitter and grumpy when the fog clears away and the temperatures rise above the typical 63°F.

The only upside to the clear skies is that I can see the moon clearly for the first time in months. I’m currently reading Apollo 13, the book written by Jeffrey Kluger and Jim Lovell that later became Ron Howard’s awesome movie, and it’s neat to get to stare up at the moon and feel connected to it. If you’re a space nerd like me, or at all interested in humankind’s efforts to get into space in the 1960s and 70s, I highly recommend you read it.

Last in this stream of consciousness-like post, I bought an iPhone. For the last four years, I’ve been swearing up and down that I’d never buy an iPhone and that I’d stick with Android for life. Well, never say never. I still love Android and still respect the ecosystem very much, and I’m still reviewing Android phones and software at CNET. It’s just that I want to get better acquainted with the iOS ecosystem, which despite owning an iPad, I feel like I don’t know all that much about. I also want to be able to use all the cool new apps that still seem to take months or upwards of a year to get to Android. Sadly, the phone is still on back order and hasn’t shipped yet, but sometime in the near future I’ll have an iPhone 6 of my own, and people can start calling me an iSheep — oh joy!

• A simple announcement from my uncle that he was traveling to Israel in February re-ignited a spark I had to pursue my Birthright trip (a free trip to Israel for Jews ages 18-26). That launched me into full-on planning mode, scoping out deadlines, applications, and trip planning.
• I found out I have minor scoliosis. Oh, so that’s why I get back pain.
• I lost my job at Wired just one week before the deadline to decide to take my Birthright trip or cancel it.
• Not letting unemployment get me down, I spent the time freelancing, exploring parts of San Francisco I hadn’t seen, hiking, and planning my trip.
• I went to Israel!!! It was indescribably amazing. I met awesome people, who are now friends I see as often as I can. My eyes were opened to the conflicts in the Middle East, and I was able to see how close together countries in the region are to each other. The trip was everything that others had told me it would be, and I am so glad I went.
• I celebrated my 25th birthday at an A’s game with friends and my loving partner.
• I landed a fantastic job at CNET, on the reviews team, doing the work I’ve always wanted to do.
• After years and years of living in the city, I finally went to the Stern Grove Festival and got to sit in the VIP area, thanks to a friend who works for the Parks department. We brought tons of food, drank booze, and enjoyed two wonderful shows.
• Also after many years in the city, I finally went to Jewish Heritage Night at AT&T Park and saw Matisyahu perform.
• In July, I lost a very special person, my aunt Yvonne. She battled cancer for a few years and is deeply missed.
• Woke up at 4am to watch the Perseid meteor shower. That was spectacular.
• I got to cover a lot of new gadget releases, including the iPhone 5S. Though the work is hectic, it’s really fun to get the first look at a new gadget.
• I saw the Mythbusters stage show. After years of watching Jamie and Adam on TV, it was a treat to see them in person.
• Put on a Star Trek uniform and ran through the streets of San Francisco for my company’s Amazing Race competition. Got a lot of weird looks, a few catcalls, and had a lot of fun.
• Finally converted the tapes my parents shot when I was a baby into a DVD and digital files. It’s great to see the family I have lost on tape, to hear their voices, and see their mannerisms.

That list doesn’t include the amazing new friends I’ve made, beautiful sunny days spent on the beach, hikes with friends, delicious dinners, new experiences with my partner, and the countless number of happy and sad times I’ve had this year. 2013 was awesome, and I can’t wait for next year.

I bought my Galaxy Note II last year, because I was in need of a new phone, and it was the most powerful device on T-Mobile at the time. The size bothered me, because I didn’t want a phablet. TouchWiz really bothered me, because it’s ugly. Nevertheless, I ponied up a few hundred dollars to buy it and have been defending it’s massive size ever since.

“OMG, that thing is huge, can I hold it?” is the most common response I get if I ever dare pull my phone out in front of strangers. It’s usually followed by “Oh, it’s not as ridiculously large as I thought.” After more than enough wisecracks about my Note II (which I am sure would have given it a complex by now if phones could feel shame), I present my reasons why I love it:

1. It’s humongous, meaning I can read more of a webpage than you can, see larger photos, and watch videos without getting super close to the screen. Widgets are big enough to display all the info I want to see, too.

2. It’s super fast. Rarely does it lag enough that I notice it or become frustrated. I’m running a launcher on it too and it’s still giving me all the performance its processors have.

3. It’s kind of a tank. I dropped it once, from about 4 feet on solid concrete. The damage was a few scratches on the outside edge and a scratch on the back plate, but that was it. I’ve been known to trash talk the poly-carbonate exterior of the Note 2, but it takes a beating well.

4. The camera is good enough. The camera app might frustrate me, but the camera itself takes nice pictures. See exhibit A below.

So yes, my phone is too big to fit into a pocket or some purses. But it’s powerful, resilient, and bigger than yours, so there. I’ll probably size down for my next device, but I’ll defend the value of the Note 2 forever.

XOJane, and beauty sister site XOVain. I’m usually bothered by most content directed at women. It’s either the same rehashed garbage advice about sex, makeup, and fashion that’s filled women’s magazines (and there respective websites) for the last ten years, or it’s too aggressively feminist and/or self-righteous for my tastes.

XOJane strikes a nice balance between superficial advice I actually want, human interest stories (I can’t get enough of those), and people talking about general life issues I always wanted to talk about, but felt were too “rude” to bring up to my friends. And when some writers get a little too feminist for my taste, I just look the other away. I’ve even met a group of gal friends through XOJane, which is awesome.

These Keen sandals. My boyfriend bought them for me for my trip to Israel. Despite being kind of ugly, they are incredibly comfortable. They also held up well on an 11 day excursion around the country.

Let’s Play Minecraft. Four to five dudes playing Minecraft, making inappropriate jokes. Don’t ask me why, but I love these videos. It’s gotten to the point that I’d rather watch them play Minecraft than play it myself.

The West Wing. I’m more than 10 years late to this show, but I completely understand why my mom liked it so much when it first aired. Sorkin is pretty great at writing an entertaining and (in my mind) believable storyline, and the actors are so fun to watch. Plus, who doesn’t love Rob Lowe?

And, as always, the San Francisco Giants. Swept the Dodgers, top of the West, and four walk-offs this season (as of May 2013)? YES.

Over the years of watching Saturday morning Food Network shows (Good Eats is the best), I learned of the custard-variety french toast, the kind usually served at fancy brunch places. The batter is often a base of eggs and cream or milk, plus flavorings. After I successfully made my first crème brûlée from scratch I thought “Hey, I can make a custard-like substance with ease!” and thus my French toast recipe was born. The first time I attempted to make French toast, I was living in my college dorm. I casually combined some ingredients on a weekend morning and voila, I had French toast.

Recipe: French Toast, The Lazy Weekend Way

Typically I make French toast on Saturday or Sunday morning. I am usually very hungry and slightly tired when I am making it, so I don’t really bother with measuring my ingredients carefully. I eyeball everything and determine the custard is ready when it looks good to me. I haven’t had a batch of French toast come out bad, so I must be doing something right. While I do not measure my ingredients carefully (if at all), I do follow a specific ingredient list. The goal is to create a custard-like mixture to dip the bread into, so I follow the basic principles of custard making.

Bonus points if you have a good sourdough bread on hand and you remember to leave a few slices out overnight to dry out — it helps the bread soak up more batter.

Here are my ingredients:

• 2-4 slices of slightly stale or dried out bread (white, french, or sourdough work best). If like me, you don’t always have stale bread, just toast your bread to rob it of some moisture. Fresh, moist bread will yield soggy French toast that is hard to flip in the pan.
• egg yolks (yolks by themselves work better at creating a custard, but you can use the whole egg if you want to)
• milk or half and half
• granulated sugar
• cinnamon
• vanilla extract
• 1-2 tablespoons of butter, for melting in the pan

If I am making french toast for myself and my boyfriend, I use:

4 slices of bread
2-3 egg yolks
about 1/2 cup to 3/4 cup of milk
1/4 cup of sugar
a teaspoon of cinnamon
a teaspoon of vanilla extract

Whisk together your egg yolks, sugar, and cinnamon* until they have lightened in color and combined; about 30 seconds of whisking. If you have ever made a custard, this step will seem familiar. *Adding the cinnamon at this stage helps it integrate better. In the past, I have added the cinnamon when I added the milk, which resulted in cinnamon clumps forming.

When properly combined, the eggs, sugar and cinnamon will look like this:

Whisk in the milk and vanilla extract until combined.

Heat a skillet or fry pan over medium heat and add enough butter to coat the pan. Once the butter is bubbling but not brown, dip your bread, one slice at a time into the custard mixture.

Allow excess egg-custard mixture to drip off the slice of bread and place the slice of bread immediately into the hot, buttery pan.

Fry the slice of bread until the first side is golden brown, about 2-3 minutes, then flip. I typically turn my slices too early so I will flip them back and forth until they are brown on both sides. Be sure to keep your heat on medium; you don’t want to burn your French toast!

Repeat the dipping and frying process until you run out of custard mixture and bread slices, or reach the desired servings of French toast.

I always love to top my French toast slices with something tasty. My favorites are warmed orange marmalade and chocolate hazelnut spread (Nutella), chocolate chips (if I don’t have Nutella), and maple syrup with butter or powdered sugar. Any type of jelly or jam would work too, as would slices of fruit. Get creative!

French toast with maple syrup, my boyfriend’s favorite:

French toast with orange marmalade and chocolate chips, one of my favorites:

Do you love French toast?

Because I have lived in the west side of San Francisco for the nearly four years I’ve been here, I rarely venture to the Mission. Instead of dining at Pizzeria Delfina, spending my Fridays at Mission Bowling Club, or standing in line for fresh-baked morning pastries at Tartine Bakery, I merely read about those experiences on food and local news blogs and imagine what my life would be if I lived in the hipster capital of, uh, Northern California. (I think that’s right, isn’t Portland the hipster capital of the world? I don’t even know)

Hoping to change that, and because I was craving something sweet, I spent my sunny afternoon finding Tartine Bakery, a San Francisco-famous pastry and sandwich shop and cafe at the corner of 18th and Guerrero. The space was small, but the pastry case was big and full of too many tempting treats for me to pick something. Feeling the pressure of a growing line, I went with the first pastry that caught my eye and that remembered was highly recommended on Foursquare, the chocolate eclair.

After stopping at Bi-Rite Market, another San Francisco institution, for a water bottle, I climbed the hills at Dolores Park to take in a view while taking in the eclair, passing a guy peddling pot cookies. Thanks man, but today this French pastry is all I need. After finding my spot in the grass, I promptly took a huge bite and ended up wearing a blob of vanilla cream filling. I didn’t care because Tartine had lived up to its hype; my eclair was really, really good. It also validated in my mind that these Mission establishments are really as good as everyone says they are.

I already knew that Dolores Park was a nice place to spend a warm afternoon. Now I also know that it’s worth getting out of the Outer Sunset to find some great food in the Mission and in other parts of the city to which I never bother to venture — especially on those rare San Francisco sunny days.

Let’s back up. I was raised as a reformed Jew. I spent my weekends in Hebrew school at our synagogue, learning about the Jewish holidays and customs. In the fourth grade, every Wednesday afternoon I learned Hebrew in preparation for the Bat Mitzvah that I never actually completed (though I did get close). Judaism was a significant part of my upbringing, and every holiday was celebrated in one way or another, either at home or at shul.

Once I had outgrown my synagogue’s own education program, I was sent to the new and modern Jewish community center to take classes for confirmation. My religious peers cared more about chasing boys and screwing around in the back of class than learn about the history of our people. I got fed up and dropped out of my Jewish education.

By the time I made it into high school, it was rare to find me at synagogue other than for the high holy days. By my junior year, I had stopped going to those services too. I was struggling with forming some sort of relationship with God and feeling deeply tormented by my past let-downs with a higher power. I felt that Judaism didn’t offer any guidance.

A few years later and looking for a sense of community when I got to university, I joined my campus’ Hillel. I met a few friends, learned a bit more about my religion, and had a lot of fun. On the other hand, I encountered a lot of cliques that made it hard to feel included. As meetings and events became more about people’s drama with one another and less about actually connecting to our faith, I stopped going altogether.

Give or take a few years, that leads me here. I’ve done my best to keep up my Jewish traditions, which at this point just means lighting the Hanukkah candles, making latkes, and maybe eating some matzo at Passover.

Aching for a way to really understand the significance of everything that Jews do, I signed up for Birthright this year. It’s a 10 day trip to Israel to see the holy sites, explore the country, and, most importantly, learn about the history and significance of our people. To me, it’s a way to pick up where I left off in my religious education in a setting that’s far more meaningful than sitting in a fancy community center with a bunch of ambivalent teenagers.

I’ve been told by everyone who has gone on the trip before me (my cousins, most of my friends, several colleagues) that it is life-changing. I really hope that’s not an oversell. I don’t think it is. I couldn’t be more excited. I leave in May, and I really hope I come back with more than just a few souvenirs.

All I want to say is that it sucks that I’ve now spent about 2/3 of my life without you. You were here for the first eight, but not the last sixteen. Every day I replay a memory from those years, making sure as little slips away as possible. Every day I miss you. But every day I’m thankful for what you taught me. Every day I’m proud of the person you were. And every day I remind myself that you’re proud of me too.

From Wired: “This mosaic of 53 images shows the different composition of rocks on the moon’s surface. Blue and orange colors represent lava flows, bright pink areas are highlands, and light blue colors indicate recent impact material with the youngest craters showing blue rays extending away from them.”