bahahahahaha

hahahahahaha (pause to gasp for air) hahahahhahahahaha!

oh. and I saw a real life roadrunner today. stalking me. from my driveway. Kettlecorn?

and this is just awesome. maybe cos I'm a chick, and a "soft girl" at that (R teases me when I get weepy over kodak commercials), but just check it out.

blah blah blog

ahahah isn't the english language funny?

anyway. nothing really to comment on here, unless you want yet *another* earnest tirade on the depth of human idiocy and ingratitude. Attention people who shop retail: The people who work in those stores have lives too. They are human beings, and deserve your kindness and respect.

Anyway. I love wrapping gifts. I tend to acumulate (sp?) stuff for people throughout the year because a) it's more in the spirit of things--seeing something someone would like and picking it up then--than doing a sudden, frenzied rush of shopping and b) I lack the bank account to do the sudden frenzied rush of shopping--I like to spread the spending. Makes it seem...less.

Anyway, when it comes time to wrap gifts, I have a couple of boxes in the spare room that are just *full* of gifty things. I simply pull out the boxes and start unpacking all the fun stuff that I've accumulated (that's it!) over the past year. I get to sort it all out, thinking about the people I bought it for, or the adventure that led me to that particular item (an arts & crafts fair? a vacation?). And then of course is the purely girly enjoyment of picking out the wrapping paper and tags and bows and dressing the thing up. I was never much into dolls, so I guess this is as good as it gets for the Tomboy that I am.

All this, and I have to confess--I have wrapped one gift so far. The anticipation though....it's killin me!

Winter

So, Arizona experiences winter. For the past several days, it's barely been above 60, and last night temperatures dropped into the 30s. This thrills me because, even despite the lack of snow, I can pull out and wear my silly winter hats and wear Russell's yummy sweaters (there's really nothing better than a boyfriend sweater, is there?).

Just a week or so ago I recieved an L.L.Bean catalog in the mail and was getting all verklempt at the thought of never again having to don long underwear or silk gloves under my wool gloves under my mittens. And while this little cold snap hasn't required such dire layering, it has allowed me to wear scarves and hats and gloves and such.

Oh! And the food. Winter food rules. I made tortilla chicken soup. I'm planning on making turkey black bean soup (one of my favourites, thanks mom!). I've been drinking hot cocoa and glogg by the gallon. Thinking about whippin out the bread machine for some nice home made chunky goodness. ahhhh...

Yeah. I miss winter. And if this is as good as it gets here in Phoenix, then I'm gonna milk it for all it's worth!

Weekend of Firsts!

I cooked Thanksgiving Dinner for the first time. By myself. It took two days, but I managed a Turkey Breast, rolls, sweet potatoes (yes, with marshmallows, tyvm!), Fatty's Mashed Potatoes, stuffing, cranberry sauce (which was meant to be cranberry relish but, with a Vitamix in lieu of a full-sized food processor, it turned out a bit more on the...liquid side), green bean casserole, and Pumpkin Gooey Butter Cakes, courtesy of Paula Deen.

And you know what? It all turned out okay. I even had it all (mostly) hot and ready to go at the same time. Of course we destroyed in less than 20 minutes what took me so long to prepare, but it was totally worth it. I loved every minute of the preparations. I'm not a great cook, but I do enjoy it. Blame my mom for that. *She* is a great cook. I would have much rather had her homemade stuffing than the boxed type, and her green beans are better than any mushroom soup/fried onion combo could hope to compare with, but all in all, we were both plenty pleased with the results of my first attempt at Thanksgiving.

The other crazy thing we did this weekend? Got up at o'god thirty on Friday morning to go out and see if we could find a Wii. We'd both read reports that many places had been restocked for the holiday weekend, but that proved not to be the case. At any rate, it was a fun adventure to see just how many people had camped out at Best Buy (about 300) for...whatever reason. Thing is, with all the wandering around we did, I never saw any deals that were worth getting up that early for. There were some nice sales, but nothing really earth-shattering. It was pretty disappointing, really. Well, that and the fact that *NO ONE* had any Wii's. We were home by about 7am, and promptly fell asleep on the couch. It proceeded to be a wonderfully lazy day of lounging and leftover munchin.

Anyway. It was a good couple of days. Happy Thanksgiving!

Damn you, Shanny!

She tagged me. :(

The Guidelines: List 5 weird things about yourself or your pets. Tag 5 friends and list them. Then, those people need to write on their blogs about 5 weird things, and state the rules, and tag 5 more people. Don't forget to let the people you tag know by posting a comment on their blog.

1. I can't stand to watch anyone shave. It completely makes my skin crawl. I have no trouble shaving myself (although I did go razor-free for about 12 years..perhaps that should have been another item on this list...), or other people for that matter (I used to work with adults with developmental disabilities, and had to shave the men's faces), but I can't watch it. Gillette commercial comes on and I have to cover my eyes or leave the room.

2. I like to make lists. Shopping lists, to do lists, things I want lists, etc. Sometimes I'll even add something to a list while shopping or running errands, just so I can cross it off and feel accomplished.

3. I love my scars, and I have a fair few. They all have stories--some more animated than others--and I love that I have them to tell.

4. Delilah, our lovely little girl, sounds like a wookie when she gets riled up. I keep meaning to take a video/audio clip so I can share it, but haven't yet. Obviously. It's a crazy bizzare sound, and seems to escalate with our laughter.

5. I can pop my feet. Not my toes...my feet. Not my ankles. My feet.

And as far as tagging 5 people goes, the only person's blog I read that I actually *know* is Shannon, so I'm not sure where to go with this. I guess I'll say that the following people need to email me--or post in the comments of this blog--five wierd things about themselves:

Kimbra.....Mom and/or Dad...Russell....Chris....Dean

Go!

Never post when you're grumpy....

I had a really bad day at work on Sunday. Suffice it to say that I had a series of angry, violent dreams that night, culminating with visions of holding a body down in a creekbed while stabbing it repeatedly in the face.

It was one of those odd things where it was actually someone else doing the dirty work as I watched. But I knew...*knew* that it was really me. You know?

So that's why I didn't come here and write about my day.

You understand.

the blogger gods hate me

I did try to post last week. I did. I wrote it up, I created links to another great Ze Show...and Blogger shut me down. Poof!

So I was meandering around the internet just now and came across This Guy. Pick any song. They are impossibly catchy, and clever to boot. Hooray, singer/songwriters!

Drivin with the windows down...

The wind rushed in, bringing crisp, wet smells of asphalt, dirt, and grass.
My hair went Yahoo Serious,
and I grinned wickedly at the decadence of it all.

Happiness Is...

A trip to the home improvement store.

I had to pop into Lowes tonight to try to get a replacement garage door opener, since I so carelessly smashed to pieces my previous one (not really--it fell out of my pocket on a bike ride a couple days ago and the diode broke is all...but it sounds much better, and feels psychologically better, to imply that I willfully smashed it). I didn't get a replacement yet, on account of being completely clueless about whether we had an Intellicode system or not. Who knew you can't just take in the old one and say "Here, make it better!"? I'll go back tomorrow, now that I've done my homework, and pick up a nifty new remote that I will take much better care of now that I know how expensive they are.

Anyway. That second trip back will just allow me to bask once again in the glow of home improvement. I don't know if it's a "memories-of-the-house-in-OK"C thing, or just some wierd genetic "get things done around the house thing" from my parents, but I LOVE...LOVE...going into these types of stores. It's better than a candy shop. Better than a shoe store. Better, even, than an arts/crafts supply store. I love the smell of cut wood and paint and industrial strength cleaning products. I love to browse the powertools and make mental lists of stuff I want. I love to think about having our own house again and all the "customizations" we can do.

Tomorrow I may have to spend some quality time browsing. Although, I'll probably be too excited about coming straight home and programming my new Garage Door Remote. Good times. Good times.

...huh?

Creepy!

hrm. well. the page I initially linked to didn't require any memberships or secret handshakes. Basically, a genetically engineered to be less likely to cause allergies cat is just wierd. wrong. unnatural. google search it. you'll see.

Thanks Shannon!

Find your own pose!

She always has the crazy quiz links, but I gotta say....It's true! It's true! We snuggle and chit chat, but when it's time to sleep--to the sides we go! Wacky stuff, this.

I'm back!

From a jaunt to KCMO. That's my excuse for not writing, you see. Getting prepared for the trip, making sure the hounds were ready for the kennel, making sure all the loose ends were tightly bound. You know how it goes. But I'm back now, and I took notes (YES!) on Things I never Realised I Miss:

1) Giant fuzzy caterpillars crossing the highway. Giant. As in, "easily viewable from an oncoming car at 65mph", really really big, fuzzy, caterpillars. I think they're poisonous too, but that's a different list.

2) Barns. Real barns. Old barns. Barns with lots of hay in them. Or lots of rotting wood. I love and miss old barns

3) Redtailed Hawks. One on every highway sign, it seems. They are just a nice reminder of what is wild and just out of reach.

4) Not just green. Olive green, lime green, pea green, teal green...every colour of green you can imagine (and some I never would). And oranges, reds, and yellows. Fall had just started to happen in Missouri, and it is a lovely sight.

5) Everywhere ponds! Water water everywhere. Little ponds, big lakes, creeks, streams, you name it. It's pretty. It's wet, and it means FISHIN!

6) Wierd livestock. I'm sure there is some around here, but in Missouri you can't throw a rock without hitting an Emu or an Ostrich or some other form of exotic livestock. It's both completely disconcerting and totally natural at this point.

7) Roadside produce/nut stands. All along the highway--yes Interstate 71, even-- there are tiny little "stands" that farmers set up to sell their tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, pecans and whatever else they happen to grow. Often the "stand" consists of little more than the tailgate of the pickup and a patio umbrella. I've never stopped at one, but man I miss seeing them.

Things I Don't Miss:
1) Billboards. I never really realised it, but there are no billboards in Scottsdale/N. Phoenix. At least not on the main highway. North Kansas City has digital billboards now--aren't they swanky? I was pondering the fact that we don't have any digital billboards here when Russell pointed out that we don't have any billboards period. And there was much rejoycing.

2) A church every 100 yards. There are a LOT of churches in Missouri. You really can't get out of sight of one before you see another looming up. I'm all for people being able to worship as they please, but when there come to be that many churches you start feeling, well, put upon, you know? One house actually had the 10 Commandments attached to its mailbox. Another town was advertising "GIG Fest". Dad and I were thinking they were going to go down to the creek and gig some frogs, but no...it's "God Is Good Fest". That is something I don't miss--having religion shoved down my throat at every turn.


It was a great great trip and I wish I was back there now. It's a glorious sunny day here, and I've been for a bike ride and trimmed the bushes in the front yard already, but I'd sure not mind sitting on the deck at my folks' house, mosquitos or no. Or hanging out at Casa Leatherbury with my best friend and her crazy baby that I love so much.

11:11am. Time to make the day happen.

Shannon!

You must make some of THESE!

Oh. my. gosh.

Channel surfing on the net will get you anywhere.

Commute

This is what filled my field of vision on my drive home tonight.

What, exactly, is The Pillsbury Doughboy doing moonlighting as a chef teddy bear with loose morals? I'm intrigued.

Try this:

The Scribbler

Ze strikes again. Amazing.

Ha ha ha

So in last week's kickball game, I went up to the plate and made a crappy kick. The ref called it a bunt and, although I would have made it to first base on that crappy kick, I had to go back and take a re-kick because we'd called no bunts at the outset of the game. Thing is, tho, I just got a really really crappy foot on the ball. It was never intended to be a bunt, it just didn't go very far. Apparently, though, it made a little history:

Ignominy!

nothing new under the sun

Or in my brain, for that matter. Just figured I'd post a few words so my oh-so-few readers wouldn't have to resort to the normal indignant emails of "Why haven't you posted?"

I'm off for the next two days, and I'm feeling joyful about that. I always enter my "weekend" with big plans for all the stuff I want to get done: Clean the house, work in the yard, take long liesurely walks with the hounds, work on my bike, clean the car, sort through the junk on my desk, etc ad infinitum... And what I ususally do is start strong and take what I intend to be a short break. Then the short break turns into 3 hours surfing the net and/or playing WoW, or watching episode after episode of makeover shows on TLC and Discovery.

So far today that's exactly what has happened. I got up and did a load of laundry *and* a load of dishes and then thought to myself "I should go email our itinerary to my folks and Kimbra". So far I've done everything online *but* that, but I'm getting to it!

It doesn't really matter what I spend my time doing, I suppose. The important thing is that I have two days off...IN A ROW. I can relax. Right after I get that itinerary sent... :P

bahahahahaha

My Kickball Team is Number One!

We just won our big game against the only other undefeated team in the league, putting us in first place. Yes, I play for Off Constantly. And our win tonight just goes to prove that you can't beat.... well you get it, right?

Terms Of Endearment

Maybe it's because I spent a lot of my "formative years" in the south or near south, but I enjoy it when someone calls me "hon" or "dear" or "darlin". I stopped off at Starbucks (it's less than a stone's throw from my PT's office--and hey, I deserve every sip of that Mocha Light Frappacino goodness!) and the girl at the window handed me my drink with a "Here ya go, dear." I know a lot of places poo poo that kind of familiarity, but it made me feel instantly warm and welcome.

Your thoughts?

Be Afraid, be Very Afraid....and as an aside...You're Kidding, right?

So today my boss goes on vacation for a week. Our AGM is in Tennessee for a new store set. So about an hour before he leaves he pulls me aside and says "By the way, you're in charge for the week." He claimed it to be a combination of "most reliable and capable" and seniority, but I think mostly it was an opportunity for him to watch me in mini-meltdown mode. Me. In charge. Of a $100,000 a week store. During the transition from our biggest clearance event to the receipt of the bulk of our holiday gourmet selection. Oh, and we just did inventory with more than a few discrepancies, no thanks to the morons employed by the contractors we brought in to do the job. Lots of spreadsheets and notes floating around about all the stuff that needs to be fixed. Gads. I'm more than a little nervous about the entire thing.

And more good (!?) news...the service company actually found a replacement ice maker for our 30+ year old fridge. I'm not kidding, although I wish I were. They are coming out tomorrow to fix it. Maybe the transplant will be rejected and we'll still get a new fridge. I'm not holding my breath.

Shot Through the Heart

and you're to blame ...see Question #24: Thr33

Hi-Larious!

Unusual Suspects

I mentioned in Friday's post that I was awaiting the arrival of the refrigerator service man. To my delight, he showed up just before 11am--a full hour before I expected him. Perhaps he's new to the industry.

At any rate, after a lot of poking around and much scraping of unintentional ice, he determined that our Ice Maker was the cause of the problem. Apparently in the mid to late 70s, when our fridge was made (I wish I was kidding), the ice maker was an integral part of the Big Picture. When it goes out, the rest of the machinery becomes confused and forlorn and just sort of stops working the way it should. Our ice maker hasn't worked since long before *we* rented this house, which would explain the three days it previously took to defrost the thing. Or maybe it doesn't. The ice maker doesn't work, and yet there are several inches of ice forming in the back and sides of the box, according to Bob the repairman. At any rate. The call has been put out for a replacement ice maker for a late 1970s Kenmore refrigerator. Pardon my coughing fit. In lieu of finding that replacement, discussions will then start with the warranty company for a replacement fridge. Obviously we are hoping for the latter--not the discussions, which could take months, but the actual new fridge. It will be nice to keep perishables in the house again.

Hooray For Boobies!

So Thursday and Friday were my days off, and I went shopping...for clothes. I rarely go clothes shopping--with intent. Sometimes when I'm out and about I'll pick up a spare shirt or pair of shorts, but this time I was out for real loot.

I didn't come home with much. The rarity of my shopping--with intent--excursions is a direct result of my continuing frustrations at finding stuff that fits appropriately and yet doesn't fall into the stand by category of middle-age-casual. I did find a fabulous wrap-ish shirt, and a number of great camisol/tank top shirts that will ultimately find their way into my pajama drawer.

The big expeditures came in the bra department. I tried on eleventy billion bras, and actually--over the course of two days--came home with probably 5 or 6 of 'em. This will seem unexciting to most people (women) and just plain weird to others (men), but I LOVE my new bras. It's like getting a boob lift and a new wardrobe all at the same time. I'm sure I've made this vow before, but I'll make it again and hopefully hold to it, I will never to wait so long between re-bra'ing again! Shirts that I thought looked sloppy on me, or just didn't fit right are now cute again! The girls are up where they belong, with nary an adjustment all day long. Oh happy day! And this is just bra #1! I have a week's worth of new bras to try out.

So I'll take the little victories. Yay boobs!

Still Standing

okay, okay..the emails and queries have started up again. time to post!

I went to my first Kickball game last night--a double header in which I was "at bat"(?) three times and on the field maybe four. Some folks from Russell's work were building the team, and needed a few more female players, so he brought the news home to me, knowing a) how competitive I am and b) how much I want to get out of the house and meet more people.

I signed up a few weeks ago, wondering how my wonky back and knees would tolerate it, but I needn't have worried; seems the primary objective during these games is to stand around, tolerate the heat as well as you can, and drink a lot of beer.

Everyone on the team was a stranger to me, but most of the women introduced themselves at least. The boys were being boys, and young ones at that, so they were preoccupied with the brilliance of the team name, which is Off Constantly. I'll give you a few moments to think about the connotations of that, and then present my theory that there were no females present when the name was chosen.

Instead of following the herd to a sanctioned drinking establishment (I've never before played on an athletic team where players took their beers out on the field), I came home for a long hot soak in the tub, followed by a massive dose of ibuprofen and some stretching. My social life surely suffered for it, but my body feels a whole lot better than it should.

And now...sitting around waiting for the service dude to show up and have a look at our--again--frozen over fridge. Between 10 and 12, they say. My money's on 11:53. :P

Something to chew on

While I don't necessarily agree with the way the information is presented or the conclusions that the narrator comes to, there is some *really* interesting stuff here. Check it Out

I promise...

1. To never EVER buy these shoes for any child of mine, my friends, or even my enemies.

2. To not obsess about the germs on a high chair/table in a restaurant to the point where I pull a handi-wipe out of my bag and SCRUB down aforementioned surfaces, completely ignoring the fact that my child is running amok in the restaurant, putting her grubby little hands on every item that is not tied down.

Yes, the "amok" child in the above not-made-up story was indeed wearing those damnable shoes. So much for a peaceful lunch out of the store.

*sigh*

Another yummy link...

Wierd Al comes through again!

wikiwikiwikiWOW!

WikiHow rules!

acting the part

it's exhausting, really, pretending to be nice and interested in what people have to say ALL.DAY.LONG. I'm sure Shannon can relate to me on this, as can anyone of you who has ever worked in a service industry. There are days when I'm tired or sick or just in a rotten mood, and switching on and off to "happy crappy" mode is a real drain. The upside of it is, however, that sometimes pretending to feel good and be in a good mood positively affects the way I actually feel.

today wasn't really one of those days. I woke up with my right eye all swollen and nasty (allergies?) and one of those related ever-so-slight headaches that doesn't really warrant medication but which dogs you constantly--sort of taunting you from the edge of conciousness. People were rotten today, but in retail you just can't be rotten back, so I'd don the cheerful interested girl face and chat away. The effort of being nice in the face of nastiness just wore me down even more. The puffiness went down, but the headache remained, and the exhaustion set in. I could collapse into a ball of neediness at any given moment.

maybe I will...

Confession

On my drives around Phoenix, I find myself looking longingly at office buildings.

True story.

Curse you, Shannon!

'What will your obituary say?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Clearing the Cobwebs

Three of the closest people to me have now asked what is up with my blog. I guess it's time to jump back in the saddle and try to put some words to...cyberspace?

I'm not really sure why the prolonged absence. I think I had high hopes for the photo/video revolution that I expected to take place after we got the new camera, and when I couldn't figure out how to make it work, I just sort of tucked my tail and fled for a while. It's a little humiliating for me that I whined about not having a good camera (and later, just a camera that works, since our old one bit the dust), and now more than a month later I still don't understand how to use it to its full potential. So that's one excuse.

The other excuse? Just laziness, I suppose. I usually come home, jump online and read emails and some news items, and by then there are so many things occupying space in my brain that it would take a team of excavationists to sort through it all. I am only one person, and not much of a digger at that (reference the above failure to dig any deeper into "how does this damn camera work"), so I leave it all in there and head straight for the game or dinner or whatever.

It's far too hot now to do anything but sit on my ass when I'm not working or at the physical therapist's. It was around 113 degrees or so today--119 in the car when we went to go see Superman Returns (a wholly sappy movie, but worth seeing if for no other reason than that Brandon Routh has some fantastic nods to Christopher Reeves in his portrayal of the man of steel). Russell's been doing some early morning workouts but I just can't take the heat. And, well, I'm still gimpin around. My back is better, but I'm now having some problems with my left knee...*sigh* So I go to work and run my butt off, and then come home and park it in front of the computer for the balance of the day. Good times.

Anyway. No promises, but I'll try to stop by more often. Sorry for the dust. :P

video!

First Cybershot Video

wewt!

Russell helped me figure out iMovie on this here Mac... and then Fetch. It's all very complex and exciting. The video, however is not. But it's the first one. Enjoy.

Try this:

Stand on one leg.
Throw a weight ball (only 2kgs in my case) at a very tight trampoline-lookin-thing up on an angle.
Catch the ball as it comes whizzing back at you at about three times the speed at which you threw it.

Did you get smacked in the face too? Or did you just fall down?

Anyway, that's my new favourite exercise at PT. Someday I'll graduate to doing it on one leg *while* standing on an inverted half-ball.

I'm going to be very very sore tomorrow.

grumble grumble

argh.sigh.piss.moan.bitch.wail.pout.

it hasn't been a pretty day. I'm funkin, and not in a Bootsy Collins sorta way. was supposed to be off at 8, got home at 10 (insert long pathetic story about the store's front door lock core falling out--yes, really--here)(I don't even get time-and-a-half for today...we get an extra DOLLAR an hour and a floating holiday. yep). was supposed to go in at 9am tomorrow, am now going in at 7. no breaks no lunch no support until 2pm (I leave at 3). I do love my job, I do. but I am so ready to find a job I can merely tolerate just so I can have normal days off and far less drama.

that's my dream job, in a nutshell: "Normal folks' hours and .5% drama"

soon soon I'll clambor out of this fog and be my bright shiny self again. 'til then, I suggest you keep some chocolate and some soothing tunes at the ready in case you bump into me. you know... calms the savage beast and all that...

addendum

Apparently the people I rode with yesterday morning aren't heartless jerks after all (said, I have to clarify, with tongue firmly implanted in cheek; I really never believed they were...complete...jerks). Later yesterday morning I got a voice mail from the original fellow that had posted looking for people to ride with. He said they were glad to find that I'd made it out okay--that they'd actually been quite concerned, asking other riders and hikers if they'd seen me--and that he was very sorry about the trail being so god-awful rocky and steep. We had originally planned to ride a different trail, but plans changed at the last minute when some other folks joined up. He had no idea the new trail was going to be quite as rough as it was.

I also got an email last night from the woman that took us on that trail; she was also very nice in saying that that trail was a bad choice, given my profession of being weak in the knees, and that she was sorry it ended up being an abbreviated ride for me, etc. etc. etc.

It was just nice that they took the time to contact me; I appreciate that quite a lot. Up! Up! With People!

: P

dot dot dot

so the last *actual* post was just me venting and being all negative and bitchy, and I apologise for that. Sometimes people just get me down. I'm off today, however, so I only have to interact with people with whom I *want* to interact. Hooray.

Just a few quick comments about the psychology of physical therapy. I find it much easier to get my stretches and exercises done now because I know *why* I'm doing them. They are not mindless repetitions that will lead me to some arbitrary level of fitness. I know they are meant to strengthen certain muscles and (hopefully) allow me to continue doing the things that I love. I do better with my workouts when I'm "training" for an event, as well. When I have specific goals to work towards, everything makes sense and I can stay so much more focused and committed. Heaven knows I can use blinders once in a while... :D

That said, I (attempted) to go for a bike ride again this morning..again with total strangers. As it turned out, they were going on a very rocky trail that was pretty much *all* climbing--despite my original email stating quite plainly that I prefered something a little more easy going (I didn't know which trail we were riding until I met up with them, or I'd have never gotten up at 4:30am on my day off!). I bailed out early. My head was not in the game, as evidenced by the fact that I nearly wiped 20 feet into the trail on a switchback littered with softball sized loose rock...and then another 50 feet later in the creekbed strewn with what appeared to be sheets of nasty sharp limestone poking up at daunting angles. I rode about a mile before I decided that a major wreck was immenent--and besides, my knee was already starting to cry foul and we hadn't even gotten to the climbing bits yet.

I feel a little bad about bailing out, but then again the other three folk I'd gone with were so far ahead that I couldn't even have shouted out to them. On a trail I'd never been on. How's that for hospitality? To be fair, I'd mentioned the knee thing several times and told them I'd be taking it easy--that they should wait up only if there was a break in the trail so I'd know which route to take. We even discussed directions back to S's house in case I did decide to bail out. Still. I long to meet the folks that would have stayed with me despite all that--just because it's the nice thing to do. I rode with some fellas a few weeks back that have that capacity, I think, but getting together again has proven nigh on impossible, what with me having the shittiest work schedule on the planet and everything. I just have to keep trying, as Russell reminds me every time I try to bail on a ride. If I don't get out there, I definately won't meet my new friends!

so...yeah...

Yep. Pretty Much.

I am a hybrid of: Progressive Girl Athletic Girl Click on the pictures below to read more: Take the 'What Kind of Girl Are You?' quiz at CookingToHookup.com

Do Not:

....Try to get preferential treatment at any retail establishment by saying "I shop here all the time." The people you say this to are AT THAT STORE 40 hours a week (or more), and they do not know you from Adam. I know who our regular customers are, and it irks me to no end when someone I've never ever seen before insists that they are "a regular".

This happens to us all the time at the store. A few days ago I had a lady tell me she would bring in her medical bills to prove that she'd been unable to use her coupon that expired on April 29th, and could she please still use it because "...I'm in your store all the time". This, for $10 off a purchase of $50 or more.

Yesterday, a woman wanted to return a USED wine carafe and a bottle of wine "that cost more than I wanted to pay..." (I kid you not. This is the second time someone returned something with that excuse--who is blindfolding and earplugging these people that they have NO CLUE how much the items are that they have picked up off the shelf are going to cost?) We pointed out that wine was really very hot--to the point where it was now leaking out the cork, but she insisted then that the wine must be bad anyway because she'd just driven straight from her home (yeah, where the bottle of wine had been sitting in your car since the day you purchased it?). "Look," she said, "I shop here all the time..." Oh! I'm sorry, since you are obviously such a great customer, I assumed that you KNOW that we DON'T DO RETURNS ON ALCOHOL and other consumables! And since you are a regular here, I'm would have thought that you've been coached numerous times on what not to do with your bottle of wine, unless you want it to turn to vinegar--that is to say, don't leave it in your car in 100+ degree temperatures.

Sometimes, people just piss me off.

The boy needs equal billing...

what a mighty closeup this is. but what a handsome boy! note the fantastically tough-looking collar his daddy picked out for him. it doesn't fool many people; Bucket's just too much of a wuss to carry off the badass image. anyway, this handsome boy came to the door this evening covered in poo. He and Delilah had been roughhousing in the yard, and he apparently ran right through a nasty mess of it. How he flung it up onto his side is still beyond me.

I love my dogs.

Delilah the Premiere!

This is our sweet little hoover hound Delilah, as captured by the new digicam. I wanted to crop it down, but haven't gotten that far yet. I think Photoshop is going to have to be the way I go, but I don't have a link to the program from my login screen and I'm too lazy right now to go searching the computer for it. This thing is so compartmentalised that it could take hours. You think I'm kidding, don't you? Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.

Doesn't she have the most beautiful eyes? I love her little black mask. It's a shame she doesn't smile more. She always looks so depressed. She has a fantastic grin. I'll get a new shot of that soon.

Oh, and here's my "new" car, which I've had for just over a year, and which is now 6 years old. I washed it yesterday, so it's bright and shiny and fun again:

Leftist Leanings

When I started mentioning to folks that I was going in for physical therapy, I'd invariably get one of two reactions. From the folks that had never been, I'd get the concerned look and "oh? what for?" sorts of questions. From the folks that have been through it, I'd hear "Oh. Good luck." And they would then launch into some horror story about how their PT or their friend's/brother's/mom's/boss's PT unleashed heretofore unknown levels of torture and torment on their delicate little bodies. Great. Thanks so much for that.

I have to say, that after my first trip to the PT...I LOVE IT. I walked out feeling a little stiff and sore, and now my body aches like I've just run a marathon (well, actually, it's my left knee--sort of odd because it's my right knee/ankle that tend to be problematic...more about that later), but I can honestly say that I can't WAIT to go back. (then again, I always have been a glutton for punishment) I love the girl that is working with me. She put me through more of an exam than I've ever had from any doctor. She watched me do lunges, balance on each leg, touch my toes, bend over backwards...you name it. She was watching to see my alignment and balance, checking to see where my weaknesses are, and on and on and on. She poked and prodded my lower back, looked at the arches of my feet (I have a funky, but common, shape in my left foot that causes the inside of the front of my foot to sort of arch up...so my pinky toe/outer toes touch down first, followed by my big toes.)

I would not have been able to tell you this going in, but apparently my left side (hip-foot) is very weak and tight. She suspects that a lot of my problems in my right knee are due to overcompensation. She also said that it's very possible that a good part of my lower back pain is a direct result of the stiffness that I have in my hips and upper quads/hamstrings. I knew hamstrings could be an issue, but not quads/hips. I just knew that mine were pretty much always sore and tight.

I have some exercises and stretches to do that will a) work on my lower abdominals and obliques, which will help keep my spine aligned and alleviate some of the pressure from the disc protrusion/degeneration) and loosen up some of those muscles that might be drawing everything up too much--causing that pressure.

My PT had a herniated disc last year (a very amusing--albeit sad--story involving a slip down the stairs after trying to step on a particularly annoying cricket), and she's back to being able to run, so I have high hopes. I have a feeling I will quickly grow tired of the exercises I have to do, but I will just have to imagine a sedentary life with out running and mt. biking and I'm sure that will be impetus enough. I'm going back on Wednesday and Friday this week, and I think that I'm going to be doing some weight training and more challenging exercises under her watchful eye, so it should be good.

In other news, I'm still fiddling with the camera--it can do some cooooool stuff...I just gotta figure out how to get it to YOU.
That's all. Dinner awaits.

more heathens than you can shake a stick at

So our brilliant idea was to go see The DaVinci Code at 9am on a Sunday morning. The reasoning, of course, was that there would be far fewer people. Not so, mon frere, not so. I was pretty surprised at the number of folks who had the same idea we had--and that they were not detained by church. Of course A) maybe they had special early services today so that they could all come out en masse and see what all the fuss was about and B) I constantly forget--and am thusly reminded--that we no longer live in the buckle of the bible belt...

At any rate, we saw the movie with a hundred-plus other folk and no bonfires were lit; nor were any rotten tomatoes thrown at the screen. It was a decent film. It should not surprise me that I didn't enjoy it as much as the book, but I think they did a good job with the content. I especially appreciate that there is a VERY fuzzy line between good and evil amongst the characters. I think naysayers should be force-fed this film; they might realise that they are creating more of an issue out of it than would ever had arisen if they'd just pipe the hell down and let folks create a nice work of fiction.

Anyway. As though you needed it...evidence of why I'm not a film reviewer. : )

I'm still fiddling with the new digi-cam, so you'll have to continue your wagers and guessing as to which photos will be uploaded first. It's a damn complicated machine for being such a tiny point-and-shoot thing. It does movies too, which should be entertaining once I figure them out as well. Maybe you'll finally get to see evidence of the Bucket & Delilah freak show known as "Dentist Time".

Yes Please!

Oh Shanny, yes! If Diana can recommend a good yoga instructor here, I would *love* to start going. I practiced several years ago when I was in Omaha (I almost typed Ohmaha! rofl), and remember being astounded at how energised I was after a "workout" that involved a lot corpse posing. Plus, I'm sure it would help with my back--all the stretching and core strengthening would be wonderful. I wasn't able to take any classes at the gym I never went to here, because of my schedule..but perhaps an independent instructor will have a more flexible schedule. So yes! Thanks for the offer. : )

In other exciting news, our (my?) new digital camera arrived today and it is a tiny tiny thing. Like, deck of cards small. Like, I'm afraid to touch it on account of the inherent connection between my klutzy nature and my hands. However, I have another 4 or 5 hours to get over it, because that's how long the battery will take to charge. *sigh* Nothing like getting a new toy and then finding out you can only LOOK at it for half a day. By the time the battery is ready to go, I'll be ready for bed. The heat flares up early, so I have to beat it in order to walk the dogs before the temperature breaks 100 degrees.

Today it was 105 and 9% humidity. I have to laugh when I hear numbers like that. Wanna know what it's like? Stick your head in your oven at its lowest setting and you'll have a pretty good idea. Above 110-115 it all feels pretty much the same. It's getting ugly here, and it's only May. I get pissy thinking about waking up at 7 to take the dogs out, but soon I'll have to start getting up around 5am, because it will be too damn hot at 7am. One day last year it was 98 at 7am, I kid you not. Yes, yes, it's wrong. So very wrong. But I'll be thinking of you all next January when it's 75 degrees here under completely clear blues skies. Yes.

fumbling for words

Never really a problem for me in real life, but they never fail to elude me here. No snazzy eye pics, as the camera due to us is out of stock at the moment. Apparently we'll be receiving it....soon.

We'll also be using the camera to take some nice photos of the hounds, as we fully expect one of them (Bucket, who are we kidding?) to be chosen as the new Old Navy Mascot. Not that we're big proponents of Old Navy or anything, but there is really only so much cuteness that we can contain in this house. We really owe it to the world to share. Plus, he can wave, crawl, and now "stand". What's not to love? Oh, and plus it probably pays well, and if I can be a stage mom to my dog instead of a slave to the idiot people that shop retail (yes, I'm fully aware that I am one of them), count me 100% IN!

So yeah. Those are the big plans for the camera. As for life in general? Got an appointment tomorrow with the Doc, whom I'm going to grill about the results of my MRI. A 15 second message from her assistant giving me the facts and nothing in the way of explanation is NOT going to cut it. So. There.

Been walking with the dogs every other morning or so. It's about a 1.5 mile route, so I get to go a full three miles. I would really *REALLY* rather jog it, but the motion tends to cause a boatload of back (and knee) pain for me. Perhaps after a few go-rounds at the PT's, I'll get to go for it again. Some good strenthening and stretching moves will, I hope, work wonders. I've taken to stretching for about 10-15 minutes before bed every night, and that has seemed to help quite a bit. It's a pain in my butt to have to do it, but a woman I work with has to ice her back for an hour every morning, so I guess I can suck it up for 15 minutes sans ice.

That's all I got.

New Specs

Okay. Here they are (again, click on black to see the colour combo): My New Specs. They are a little retro, a little modern, and as close to a cateye frame as I'm ever gonna get. I think I'm in love.

I haven't had new lenses in as long as I've had the old frames--my prescription just didn't change enough to warrant it--so it was a big surprise to put these on. The lenses are also considerably smaller than my old ones, so I see a lot of the frame, which I'm sure throws things off a bit. Oh, and they are scratch and smudge free, which I'm sure helps immensely. :D

Apparently we are due to get a new digicam just any day now too--my how we love our tech toys!--so I'll get some photo proof of the new look soon.

No news is....no news.

So my doc's office called me back today, stating that if my back continues to bother me, I could make another appointment... Um..well yeah, that's just it. The whole reason I wanted the MRI in the first place is that my back pretty consistently--as in ALL THE TIME--bothers me. So I'm going in next Wednesday. Probably little point in that, as I don't think there is really anything Dr. G feels like she can do. I think I found a Physical Therapist to try--they are close by and the website looks nice; maybe they will get me going in the right direction.

In more fun news, I get to pick up my new glasses tomorrow! My first new frames in...a really long time. Like 5 years maybe? If our digicam was working, I promise I would have photos to show you, but alas, it has taken a dive into the shallow end of the pool. I'll at least post a link to a pic when I get the exact model. This might be them (click on Black--that's the right colour, at least). I don't really recall.

So now I need a new hair-do to go with my new specs. *sigh* I hate having to find new people to take care of me every few years. It's a terrible drag.

At any rate, that's all I have to blather about for the moment. Gotta work at the butt-crack of dawn, so I'm going to head towards the realm of sleep.

Vindication!

....never felt so unsatisfying.

I left work yesterday evening to find the following message on my phone: "This is so-and-so from Dr.Whatsit's office. Here are the results of your MRI: You have a small protrusion at L4-L5 and mumblemumblemumble degeneration at L3-L4 and L4-L5. Again, you have a small protrusion at L4-L5 and garblemumblestaticmumble degeneration at L3-L4 and L4-L5. If you have any questions, call us at......"

Um. Hell yeah I have questions! Questions like "What are you going to do about it?" Questions like "When will the doctor see me to fix it and make it better?" and "What the hell kind of degeneration do I *really* have?"

So yeah. I have some actual physical issues with my back. Concrete evidence that the pain is not all in my head or just some wierd muscular aches. But the main question remains, and looms a bit more menacingly now....What can I do about it?

I'll keep you posted.

Magnetic Fields

There's nothing really like a ginormous, super-high-powered magnet whirling away mere inches from your body.

I'd read somewhere online that fully loaded pallet jacks had been sucked into the mouths of MRI machines, so when the technician told me I could set my locker key down on a table just a few feet from the machine, I kinda figured I was done for. Visions of projectile keys--aimed at my skull--floated in my nervous head.

I escaped such an ignominous fate; I suppose the newfangled machine I was in was geared down a bit--or maybe the key was made of some fantasically metal-like, yet non-magnetic material... The key stayed in its place on the little plastic table. One hazard avoided.

I also got to leave my (also apparently non-magnetic) rings on my fingers and toe. I did notice, though, a not-so-faint tingling sensation in my fingers during each little session. During the time that I rested my hands on my chest or belly, I could certainly feel that tingling through my body. I fully expect the doctor to call me up and say that they have to re-take some of the images due to some mysterious jiggling of my innards. Jiggling innards=blurry images. The technician told me so, right after he offered me a tissue--concievably to stem my constant sniffling (hello? have you met me? oh. no you haven't. I sniffle. A lot.)

So I'm laid out on a plastic-y bed-ish sort of thing, complete with a comfy pillow and a wedge for under my knees. I get squishy earplugs, because the machine is hella loud. A big half-circle cage thing goes down over my torso, effectively strapping me down and placing me in mummy position (arms at my sides or crossed in front of me--my choice, and changeable during 5-10 second breaks during the procedure). The tech places a white washcloth over my eyes..."To keep out the blowing air--kind of like on airplanes--the engineers didn't account for that bit of discomfort" and explains the noisiness that is about to ensue. There will be 4 (or was it 5) short sessions of the MRI machine doing its thing. A few minutes here, a few minutes there. Between each session, he'll give me a little signal that I can twitch or change arm positions or sniffle. As long as I'm *COMPLETELY* still while the machine is running, it's all good.

The first session is short--piece of cake. There is a chirping sound from the machine that, if I keep my eyes closed (and why not? can't see anything through the washcloth anyway), I can almost imagine that it sounds a little like a bird twittering in a lovely pastoral scene. Nevermind the clicking, humming, buzzing business going on around my lower back. I stay in the same position for the second session, which is four minutes. Four minutes doesn't seem like a long time, but when you've been lying in the same EXACT position for the previous 3 minutes, things start to get....itchy. I can now feel every individual hair on my head an body, and every follicle is demanding the attention of a fingernail. I repress the urge to scratch, take some deep breaths (slowly, so's not to do undo jiggle-damage), and manage to stay still. By the time four minutes pass and I get another short break, I know that I cannot succumb. If I do, I'll never be able to stop.

The next pass is another four minutes, and I've lowered my arms to my sides for this one. Big mistake. They almost immediately started to fall asleep, as they are wedged against the bars of the cage. Perhaps the frustration of this is what triggers me into a near panic over the thought that, not only can't I move my arms, I can't sit up or *really* move in any other manner either. I don't really consider myself claustrophobic, but I hate large crowds, and I have serious issues with being "pinned" in any way, so I had some serious issues with the idea that I was pretty much at the whimsy of the MRI tech watching from the other room. What was I going to do, wiggle my feet at him if I needed to get out? I take a few more deep breaths and get a hold of myself. It's only a few more minutes, after all.

Indeed, shortly after my short little dance with a panic attack, I hear the machine wind down. But there is no reassuring tin voice from the other room. Several very very long seconds pass, and I start to panic again. Did he step away to use the toilet? Did a bomb threat evacuate the building? How the hell am I going to get out of here if he doesn't come back? I'm sure isn't more than 20-30 seconds, but it feels like days before I hear him say that the next pass would be 5 minutes. Five Minutes. I cross my arms over my chest this time. Slightly more comfortable than having them at my side, but with the added fun of the possibility that they might slide down at any moment. I spend those five mintues concentrating very hard on keeping my arms in the same position on my chest, panicking just a little more, and wishing like hell that someone would come along and scratch the side of my nose.

Finally, five minutes is up. I doze off a time or two. I am getting the hang of it, and getting more and more freaked out. Genious, the way our bodies and brains are programmed! One more short session, and I am free. I concentrate on the bird singing behind my head, and wonder what the technician thinks of my feet, which were bare and nasty and pointed directly at his seat in the other room. I try to peek out from under the washcloth a few times, to no avail. I can see nothing because there is a giant white plastic tube a few inches from the washcloth. They tend to obstruct your vision.

I wait again for the tinny voice from the tech, but instead I feel myself starting to move out of the tube. Suddenly, there is light, and the washcloth is lifted. My plastic cage is unlocked, and I am encouraged to sit up. I immediately scratch (nearly) every inch of my skin--my head, my face, arms, legs...it all itches like I'm covered in BEES (props to Eddie Izzard). But I'm done.

The images will be sent "upstairs"; the folks there will read them and then call my doc with their findings. My doc will then call me and I'll get the watered down version of what's going on in my lower back. I hope that I get to see the images at some point, if for no other reason than it would be super cool to see inside my body. That, and some answers.

Takin Care of Business

I finally went to the optometrist today. I have had insurance for over a year now, but have dragged my heels on going for no other reason than I was overwhelmed with the choices in doctors. No one I knew could recommend anyone, so I was taking wild stabs in the dark. Earlier this week (birthdays always seem to spur me into action on these things) I finally sucked it up and just *picked* a doc. The office is close to where I do grocery and other shopping, I am familiar with the area, and I didn't know much else.

As it turns out, I picked a winner! I walked in, filled out some paperwork and was told that I could have a seat or look around. Of course I had to look around, as I've had the same (and apparently woefully out-of-date) frames for about an eternity now. The girl at the front desk immediately jumped up and asked if I knew what I was looking for--I gave her a few of my preferences, she shut me down (I was thinking I wanted to try frameless, but I hate nosepieces...turns out you can't have one without the other..go figure), and showed me some alternatives. I tried on about 10 or 15 different frames, but I ended up choosing the first or maybe second pair she showed me. This girl was good!

The doc was great too; a lot of fun to talk to, and of course seemed to know his eyes. My prescription has changed another fraction of a blip--good to know I'm holding steady--and I'll get to pick up my new specs in about a week. Wheeha.

Tomorrow...da.da.da....I'm going in for an MRI on my lower back. I complained (and cried) enough to my primary that she asked if I would like to have one. HELL YES. Hopefully they can tell me why I'm in pain every day of my life and can barely get out of bed some mornings. I'm a little nervous about it, as well as being excited as all get out. I'm excited that they might figure out what's going on so I can get it fixed, and afraid that they will find nothing visibly wrong and not know what to do with me. The horribly twisted part is that, after taking my ride (and crash) last Saturday morning, and hiking/climbing Bell Rock on Sunday, my back has felt better this week than it has in a long time. Obviously a sign that I *don't*, in fact, need to "moderate" my activity. I need to get out MORE! The Primary also prescribed physical therapy for my back and knee, so after I find out what's going on, I'm going to get that set up so I can get muscled up and avoid further injury.

Hooray for all those years of running track, playing soccer, swimming, and mt. biking.

The Good Times Are Over!

Or....life imitates art. A friend of mine at work was telling me about her friend's bachelor party, and the unfortunate circumstance that led to three of the guys being arrested for..."questionable" activities--on the streets of Mexico, no less. I laughed so hard that I had to gasp for air, and wouldn't you know it? The little gnat thing that had been plagueing the breakroom went straight down my throat.

Well that's how my day went yesterday.

Finally, Sedona

Today, a bonus birthday day, we went to Sedona. I've been wanting to get up there for ages, but our schedules just never seemed to give us the opportunity. Going forward, we will *make* time to get back, because DAMN. The pictures don't really do justice to the event of driving from the relatively bleak and rolling desert to the south into the gloriously huge formations of red rock--surrounded by trees, no less! It was breathtaking, and not a little overwhelming.

We didn't really have a plan, so we asked for a quick, easy day hike. We were directed to Bell Rock, which is one of the places I'd read about and wanted to visit at some point anyway. Supposedly, Bell Rock is the site of one of the major Votices in Sedona, but I have to tell you that I didn't feel particularly inspired or charged up in any way. Mostly I just felt a little dizzy. Especially after we hiked to the base of the rock and then decided to "go up a bit". We probably went about halfway up, and I would show you the photos to prove this, but dork that I am, I forgot to charge the digi-cam battery, and it went *poof* after I took the first photo from the parking lot (Just Google search "Bell Rock Sedona" and click "Images" and you'll get an eyefull). Anyway, we found a nice sitting rock at our half-way point and just sat and enjoyed the amazing views for a while before heading back down.

We were home by 2pm, and napping on the couch by 3:30. I think the heat and the climb just sucked the energy right out of us, vortices be damned. It's just a bit past 6pm now, and my splendid birthday weekend is nearly over. I love busy weekends like this--they leave me exhausted, but they seem to last so much longer than a weekend spent sleeping in and sitting around the house. It feels like I've had a week off from work. More cramming should be done!

Sadly, for the rest of the evening, the only cramming that will be done will be laundry into the machine! : D But there will be more days off, and more hikes, and more mini-adventures and exploring. Yes.

It's mah birthday! It's mah birthday!

So today I'm 36. I gave myself a couple of really nice new scrapes on my right forearm and right shin, after taking a bad line on my bike ride this morning. I took the middle line in a gully full of sand, slid off to the side and caught my pedal, which threw me far and long into the rocks. Good Times! (the worst part of it all, truthfully, was when I got home and Russell demanded that he clean me up...the hydrogen peroxide stung a bazillion times worse than the original scrapes!)

I rode for about 3 hours this morning, with some complete strangers I hooked up with via a yahoo email list. I've just spent a fair amount of time trying to find some online photos of the trails we rode, to no avail. Suffice it to say that there was a lot of loose gravel, a boatload of nasty cholla, and more mini-whoop-de-dos (aka MOGULS!) than I ever care to ride again in my entire life. However, there was also miles of amazing scenery, a huge rock outcropping shaped exactly (from a distance) like a Gorilla, a teensy little horny toad (so cute!), and an amazing sense of "I DID IT" at the end of the ride. More, please!

This afternoon, Russell and I went out for lunch and then to a little specialty chocolate shop I had heard about. We then came home and took a nap on the couch. I think that was my favourite part of the day so far! I played some Tomb Raider and ate some Ice Cream Cake, and tomorrow we're going up to Sedona. What a fine birthday weekend!

(As far as the previous dreaming post goes, I wish I could say that the day following the dreams was filled with a sense of resolution and contentment, but alas, after marathon snoozes like that, I'm always more groggy than usual from having slept too much, and full of brain fog. I guess I have a lot to work out!)

The Problem with Sleeping, and other Complaints

Sometimes I wish I could just avoid dreaming. Last night I went to be early, thinking I'd wake up super refreshed and have hours and hours to get stuff done before I have to go into work this afternoon. Well apparently my subconcious had other ideas, because I was dreaming fervently all night long. When Russell's alarm clock went off, I hit snooze and went back to the dreaming. 3 times. When he got up, I got up to use the ladies room and promptly went back to my dreams. When he left for work I mumbled goodbye and collapsed back into bed. The dogs whined in protest, but still I dreamed on. Finally, at 10am, I forced myself up and out of the man-eating, dream inducing comfort of a big empty bed. 12 hours, I think?

What were these dreams about? I can't really say. Not that they are super secret or anything...just that it's all a foggy blur of odd snippets. Superhero-lasering giant "prison boxes" off the walls and ceiling of some hangar type place, releasing other super heroes and the odd bad guy or two. Finding some tiny glowing treasure chest filled with gelatinous goo. Showing that treasure to Angelina Jolie (she was one of the super-heroes I rescued, you see), and having her gasp in horror and throw it back to me, shrieking "Why are you showing that to me? I don't want it! Hide it!" I still don't know what it was.

In another part of the dream, Bucket was a shape-shifting hound, and apparently when he is disguised as a Daschund, he can't perform the "stand" stunt quite as well. Although it was much easier for him to become entangled in my knitting (which I don't do).

There are more and more odd snippets to all this, and for some reason I wanted to continue watching this bizaare montage more than I wanted to get up and face the day. It's gloomy and cloudy, after all. And I have to work tonight, closing with just 3 other people.

And it puts me one day closer to 36.

Because it's just so damn funny...

Missing Cows

Points of interest

1) Despite taking about 20 hours to defrost, I'm chalking up Monday's adventure in Refrigerator Defrostation as a Good Thing. Beverages are actually cold now, not just vaguely cool. It's a wonder we didn't suffer constant food poisoning. Our immune systems are probably nigh invulnerable at this point.

2) V for Vendetta is a damn good movie. However, Natalie Portman should NEVER, EVER again take a role which requires her to fake an English accent. *shudder*

3) I've discovered a positive side to those silly little nearly-invisible cell-phone ear/mic things: I can now talk to myself as much as I want (and that's a lot) and hardly anyone looks at me askance! They all just assume I'm chatting away to someone on the phone!

DIY Lies!

So I probably haven't mentioned it here, due to the utter mundanity, but our fridge hasn't really been, well, *cold* recently. And when I say "recently", I mean for about the past year. When my folks were here a couple weeks ago, my dad suggested that the several inches of ice that had accumulated in the freezer--and that were threatening to take over the fridge--might be a source of our non-cooling woes and that a defrost might be in order.

So.

I went online and read a couple of pages of info on defrosting the fridge. Pretty straightforward stuff. Empty all yer goods into coolers, unplug and/or turn off the fridge, open up the doors, and let The Thaw begin. They did mention having towels ready. They did mention that it could take up to 8 hours. They did NOT mention that water might actually flow from *under* the fridge and flood the floor of the kitchen. They did NOT mention that this might go on for NEARLY TWELVE HOURS. Small wonder the cooling mechanism was out of whack--it was apparently gummed up with an iceberg along the lines of that which sunk the Titanic.

Anyway. I haven't done much all day aside from babysit that fiasco. Good times.

Out of the mouths of babes...

So over the weekend I was working the register when an older couple (grandparents?) with a young (4-5 years old) boy came through my line. The little boy handed me his Pez dispenser, part of the Disney Princesses series--Cinderella, which I thought was mildly peculiar, but hey, whatever, right? I played with Tonka trucks and Lincoln Logs when I was little. I take Cinderella, ring her up and hand her back to him.

At this point, things get a little...surreal. He lovingly cradles this Pez dispenser one little hand, tracing her "body" with his fingertips and says loudly "Just look at her beautiful breasts! They are so beautiful! And look at her lovely necklace..." It was all I could do to continue ringing the rest of their purchase without doubling over with laughter. I think I was as surprised by what he said as by the manner in which he said it--like he was a 40 year old wanna-be art connoisseur. To their credit, the adults with him did not make a big deal of it. They neither reprimanded him nor laughed or acted embarrassed. We exchanged that smile reserved for those special occasions when no words will suffice, they paid, and they were on their way.

I told a co-worker of mine--who happens to be gay--about it later in the day. His response? "That kid is TOTALLY batting for my team."

Lemming!

I am a lemming. I turned on the television this morning so I could occupy my eyes and ears while I did some ironing. It was early and all of my "regular" channels were still broadcasting infomercials, so I had to resort to the "left hand of the dial," so to speak.

The first show I happened upon was on National Geographic, and it was called The Dog Whisperer. Now, I've seen this guy before and been pretty impressed with what I saw, so I put the clicker down and watched two episodes of the show. Good stuff. Mostly stuff that I knew from reading countless training guides and dog psychology books and going to training classes and what have you, but it was enough of a refresher to inspire me to spend about 2 hours this afternoon working and playing with Bucket and Delilah. Heaven knows they need it!

The next couple of shows I watched were on the LOGO network, which is apparently a new Gay and Lesbian channel, courtesy of MTV. Great. Can't wait to see stupid game shows and reality shows pitting this population--already under fire from "the outside"--against each other. Anyway, the shows were about cycling--Lifecycle, to be specific. It profiled some of the riders, showed the ride, and talked about the origins of the 7 day ride from San Francisco to Los Angeles to raise money to fight and cure Aids. Now I'm all fired up to ride more, and do some kind of epic ride, complete with overnight camping, huge backpacks and support crews along the way. I would have even gone for a ride today if I hadn't been spending all that time with the dogs. :)

The third show I watched (hey, I had a lot of ironing!) was some sort of gardening rescue show. How to make your ugly duckling yard into a thing of beauty kind of thing. I pulled a few weeds in the yard after I walked the dogs, and I planned on which bushes I need to trim. See how tv affects me? I am playdough in the hands of network execs.

Insert witty closing comment here. I gotta go get ready for work and don't have time to come up with one of my own....

Fatty on my mind

I discovered the Fat Cyclist through my ofttimes misguided loyalty to MSN.com. Well there is now a voting competition for Best Blog of the Week, or somesuch, and Fatty is giving away phat loot to anyone who will vote for him. One of his competitors was so entertained by his blog that she is throwing her two incontinent cats into the prize pot. Don't you owe it to yourself to vote?

Fat Cyclists and phat loot aside, I had a pretty cool day today. I was able to resist the Krispy Kreme donuts (including the chocolate covered, creme filled minions of satan) that the Bossman brought to work...AND I saw some of the Corteo folks in the store.

I was up front and espied a rather familiar looking young guy at one of the registers. I stared him down for awhile, not sure if my brain was making up stories so that my body and mouth would make a fool of me. As he turned to walk out the door, however, I noticed a badge/lanyard hanging down his back. It very definately had the Cirque du Soleil sun imprinted on it so, caution to the wind...I walked casually (ran) over to the door and greeted him eloquently (mumbled "something something CORTEO!"). He nodded and smiled (looked terrified and visibly shuddered), I complemented the show and thanked him for a wonderful performance (stuttered and drooled a little), and he walked away (tried very gallantly to disguise his dire urge to FLEE). Ahhh...a brush with fame. Yeah. It was a good day.

Breaking All the Rules

In a recent post, one of my favourite co-denizens of the web, Fat Cyclist (yes, I've mentioned him before on numerous occasions, but I think he's entertaining enough to warrant multiple plugs) wrote up his three main rules of Blogging:

Don’t blog about blogging. Writing about the consternation you are experiencing because you have nothing to say is an excellent exercise, which you should then immediately delete without showing to anyone, ever.
Be about something. If your blog is about your entire life, it will probably be interesting to your family and closest friends (I’m being generous by including your closest friends in this list), and nobody else.
Write often. Don’t make people come back and read the same thing over and over. I mean, really.

I'm pretty sure I've never followed any of them with any real dedication.

I got a little intimidated about all the professed changes I'd be making--and embarrased that I hadn't figured any of them out (the first clue to my failure might have been NoviDavid's comment in the last post...pointing out my true incomprehension of all things HTML or otherwise web-coding related!). So I put off posting. Now I'm not even sure where my book is. I think it's buried under the mounds of papers, game manuals, and recyclable water bottles currently cluttering the top of the desk.

So. No new changes for this post. But here are a few exciting things we've done in the past week.

Shopping! I went last Monday for the first time in ages. I shouldn't really be allowed out of the house when the shopping mood strikes. I don't go often, but when I do, I end up spending money on silly things like new underwear, the DVD box set of Keen Eddie (hey, Suncoast was going out of business, so it was 40% off!), and a headlamp that I'm keen to attach to my bike helmet for summer night rides. I also picked up a gourmet carob brownie and some sweet little heart shaped cookies...for the dogs! I found a nice little shirt on clearance at Dillards, and oogled some shoes that I just couldn't justify.

Corteo! We went to see the show on Wednesday night. I think I purchased our tickets last November or something, so I got 2nd row seats. It was amazing, as all Cirque shows are. I smiled and laughed so much that my face hurt, and we both left feeling a little more inspired to get into shape (not that we'll be swinging from chandeliers anytime soon, but still...). If you've never seen a Cirque Du Soleil show.... do it.

Oblivion. It finally, finally came out. We picked it up for the PC, as Microsoft is being stingy with the XBox 360's, and who needs another console anyway for the one game that looks to be any good. Oh, and it is! Elder Scrolls was probably the first game that I got hooked on as an adult, and this just carries on in that vein, but in much better, and more beautiful ways. If anything can break my addiction to WoW, it will be this game. That said, the only thing that would currently make it better would be if it was online so I could chat with my friends. :D

Finally, yesterday we went to the Arizona Renaissance Faire. It's certainly not the same as going to our "home" faire in Kansas City, but it was still lovely to walk around holding hands and shop at all the goofy little craft shops. We caught bits and pieces of a few shows, and then watched the final joust, which was an abomination. I think the blood packs they used were the most impressive bit in the entire show. It wasn't painful for us to watch, however, as we were laughing our heads off through the entire thing. I mean, when you completely miss a pass, and have to swing your lance around behind your head to unhorse a guy (AND IT WORKS)...well it's pretty much a farce at that point.

Pooped as we were from walking around in the hot sun all day, we came home and watched a couple of episodes of Lost (only two remain of the first season DVD set. Oh noes!) and retired to the loft to lose ourselves in video games.

It's been a good week.

My Brain isn't Big Enough

I try to wrap it around stuff like this, but it just won't go. I think perhaps it may have to do with the fact that I'm currently wasting valuable brainspace thinking about things like:
1) The fact that Delilah is in a yapping match with the dog behind us and may someday soon manage to climb the sheer block wall, with all the carnage that entails.
2) The fact that Bucket is very likely to vomit in the next 30 minutes or so due to the huge quantity of grass he's been grazing.
and,
3) What exactly is the deal with John Locke? (yes, we've been sucked into this extravaganza of suspense and mystery--we got the first season on DVD and are now panicking as to how we will cope when we are finished with this set, since we can't watch the show on telly and the second season won't be out for months.)

Friday is another day off for me, so perhaps I can clear out some time and meditate some brainspace free for some self-inflicted code torture.

Small Victories

So I've changed the template completely so that I can follow along with some of the stuff the book shows as examples. I'm pretty sure my site will be ugly as hell for some time, while I figure all this out. I have figured out how to change the colour of the main header, the font style and colour, and how to add my favourite links to the sidebar (FINALLY!). I will fiddle with it more and more in the days to come, but right now I feel like my eyeballs are the size of grapefruits--and they are covered in sandpaper. Now I know why coders are nuts.

In other news, I nearly drove off the side of the road (not really mom, calm down!) yesterday on my way to work. There was SNOW in the mountains. The tips of the McDowell Mountains to the east were dusted with the white stuff, but to the north they were completely blanketed. It was such a beautiful sight! Snow! Within my field of range, and without using special 500x zoom optics! Fantastic.

And now, since it is my day off, I must go attend to that Stuff To Do list I created. I'll have to add "Fiddle with my Blog" to it now, since I've just spent about an hour doing just that. :D

10 Days and a New Impetus

It rained yesterday. My first Saturday off with Russell in...oh....a lifetime. We were going to go out to the Arizona Renaissance Faire, but decided against paying $40 to go shopping in the mud and muck. "The Show Must Go On" they say, and it does, but having as much experience as we both do with faires, we knew that we'd have to sort of have an "in" to see the best stuff. Without that inside edge, we would have just been wandering from dry booth to dry booth looking at hand woven jumpers and odd leather accoutrements. Another time perhaps.

We used our day off instead to shop in more comfortable conditions. My very best friend gave us a B&N gift card for Christmas, and we had yet to spend any of it, so away we went to the nearby shopper's paradise. We were quickly seduced by the thought of California Pizza Kitchen (which just happens to be across the way from B&N), so didn't spend the requisite 3 hours in the bookstore. I did, however, pick up a book that I'd seen a few months ago. This book is going to help me overcome my blogging blahs. It's going to make my blog bigger and better and more fun to write and much more fun to visit. But not today. Today I have to work.

But thanks, Kimbra!

TechnoHate and Stoopid Pet Tricks

More and more recently I see people with those wierd little ear things hooked on their heads. They yammer away on their cell phones, but you don't really know it until you see the wierd little ear thing. Usually I just think they are nuts and talking really loudly to themselves (what is wrong with technology that we can create an mp3 player the size of a stick of gum that will hold 40 hours of music, but we can't make a microphone substantial enough to rid the world of cell phone shouters?).
From time to time I think maybe I should get myself an ear thing. I mean, the lady that works janitorial maintenance for our business complex was chatting away happily (and not, as I originally thought, to herself) as I left work today. Everyone seems to have them; why not me?
Here's why, and I'm glad you asked: I hate cell phones. I've ranted about them enough before in regards to other people's use of them, but here's this. I also hate MY cell phone. Despite all claims to its being so handy and portable, it never seems to be in the same room with me. If it IS in the same room with me and it happens to ring, it's a wrong number or work. OR the room I happen to be in is a room with very poor reception, so I find myself pacing around the house looking for that perfect spot. It's just a poorly functioning pita. While it serves its purpose and tends to make me feel a little more secure when I'm on a long road trip or mt. bike ride, it definitely doesn't warrant its own accessories.

And on another entirely different note, I taught the dogs to jump in a carboard box today. They'll do anything for a treat. After our "training" session, I worked in the yard for a bit and would periodically look up to see Bucket staring me down from inside the box, clearly waiting to be rewarded. He's clever in his own ridiculous way.

Good Reason

I've been gone for a while, yes, but my Very Good Reason is that my parents were in town for a week! I was far too busy chillin' on the couch watching the olympics and shopping in wondrous new places to sit down and write anything. So here I am, playing catchup like the procrastinator I am.

We did watch a lot of the olympics--who didn't? (be honest--you watched some of it!) Ice dancing mostly, with a few Giant Slalom and Super G events tossed in. Some bobsledding, Snowboard Cross...it just made me miss winter that much more. And, by the way, it wasn't even super nice for the week my folks were here. It was barely 70 degrees most days; we had to wear long sleeves and/or JACKETS! Of course for them that was just fine; when they left home it was about 20 degrees and snowing/icing. I guess it's all relative.

Anyway, aside from Olympic marathons, we did our fair share of endurance shopping. Found some great bargains in some shops and paid more than is reasonable for .salsa at other shops. I got to see a lot of stuff that I've never even seen, even though it's right down street from where I work. Hopefully it was entertaining for the 'rents as well.

On of the "things" we did was go to Fountain Hills for the Great Fair--an arts and crafts fair of epic proportions. Fountain Hills is a hoity toity commununity just east of Phoenix, and I only knew where it was because the McDowell mt. Park has its main trail head there. I'd heard tails of a giant fountain downtown, and I imagined something like the fountains I'd seen in Kansas City--big ornate productions with more spouts and statues than height. However, people claimed to be able to see this fountain from various points on the bike trail (which is several several miles away), and I even overheard folks talking about seeing it from the air as they flew into Phoenix. Hmmm...So we pulled into the downtown area and come across this huge lake (my dad scoffed at it being referred to as a lake--remember that he lives by one that covers 25,000 square acres--but he forgets we're in the desert here, and a puddle of water might be considered a pond if it lasts more than a week). This lake was, oddly, bordered by several Saguaro cacti. It was also home to a wierdly retro-mod orifice of sorts:

I'm clever enough to have understood that this must be the fountain everyone was talking about, but where was the water? I was disappointed that we wouldn't be able to see it, but whatever. It's just a fountain, right? A while later someone looked up and Lo! WATER! I'm not sure of the validity of the statement, but we heard someone say that it's about 300 feet tall. Who says the desert is dry!?

Best Reason to Watch TV....

The commercials:

I Like To Pinch

Check out Crab. Hi-Larious!

Beware of Strange (non-mechanic) Men in Red Bathrobes! And other strange tales...

So tonight at work a woman approached me as I attempted to clean up a mess of Budaberg Ginger Beer. It was a sticky, treacherous place to be, and why she chose to talk to me instead of one of the numerous other employees will forever remain a mystery. Her car had died, and did I, or anyone there have a set of jumper cables? If you know me, you know I am a sucker and a softie to boot, so you will nod your head when I say that although I didn't have jumper cables myself, I took it upon myself to find her some. I asked three other people until I found a set, and then somehow finagled myself into giving her the jump. Or attempting to.

I got my car situated and we hooked up the cables and....not much happened. She got some dashlights and little else. We thought maybe we'd just give it a few moments to juice up, and as we stood there chatting, up walks Red Terrycloth Bathrobe man. In the middle of our parking lot (this is a huge, very public lot, mind you--we're basically in an outdoor mall) is walking a middle-aged man, wearing nothing but the aforementioned bathrobe and some flip-flops. I kid you not. He approached us saying "I'm no mechanic, but I trained in diesel school...." Wait, what? So diesel engines aren't considered mechanical? But I digress. He proceeds then to tell us that I shouldn't have my car on to give her a jump, and that if he only had a pen light he could open up either of our batteries to look inside and tell us whether they are any good. Now it may be that I'm mistaken, and correct me if I am, but didn't they stop making the sort of battery that requires water (and therefore that you could check in this fashiong) about 10 or 15 years ago? After the "if only I had a penlight" lament, we got a little lecture on the best types of batteries to buy and how once he had to take his battery out and swap it with his buddies car to get 'em to work. It was very surreal. And I'm sorry I missed it, but apparently when he *finally* walked away, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a big-ole bottle of (presumeably) prescription pills. It was just odd. Bathrobe Man.
And the follow-up to that is that I never got her going...almost 30 minutes of jacking with it, and...nothing. I had to go back to work. However, a nice (and presumably sane--he was at least wearing "public" clothes!) young man came by and offered to take up where I left off. She returned the cables less than 5 minutes after I came back in, which leads me to wonder where the hell we went wrong, and if I should be concerned about my own battery.

So yeah. That was the big strangeness of the evening. And then I came home and captured these images for posterity:

Wherein Bucket shows his complete and utter disdain for the freaky amoeba ball. Could have something to do with the fact that we'd just put it on his face.

And then there is the other, happier, side of Bucket:


He was actually yawning, but it's more fun to think of it as a guffaw. :)

waiting...

for something big to happen so I can post about it here. We bought a bedframe, you see. A lovely Indian sej-style bed (4 posts/canopy/lots of dark, heavy wood). It's sitting in the spare room now, taking up just about every inch of available space. It's waiting for its mattress, which we bought yesterday and which should be delivered...oh, any minute now. They have another hour and a half to get it here. Oh, how I hate 3-hour delivery windows!

I will most certainly take photos of the bed when it is all put together and lovely.

For now...oh never mind. I can't find the camera cable to d/l (or would that be "upload"?) photos of the Bowflex Ultimate 2 which is lying in pieces on the floor of our front room. When you order these things, I don't think it ever really occurs to you that it they will not come fully assembled and ready to go out of the box. Or that you might possibly have to rearrange your entire living space to accomodate them. But at some point soon we will have our own little home gym and we will be sexy muthas. Soon.

A note!

The page I linked to is someone else's photos--I have nothing to do with that site except that I rode that trail this morning. I'm just stealing her intellectual property for my own purposes, since I forgot to take our camera. :D

Humbling

So this morning I got up at 6am to head out for a bike ride at Pemberton Trail. The main trail is about a 15 mile loop, and while not technical, has its fair share of deceptively easy climbs. I was feeling all mighty and good about myself being all pro-active and fit and all, until we pulled up to the checkin station and saw the sign: "Pemberton 50k Run Today". A few seconds after my jaw dropped, Scott (my tourguide) managed to calculate that 50k is about 30 miles. TWO LAPS around the trail. Running. Shortly after we started out, we started seeing the runners coming our way. They were just finishing up their first lap and most of them looked like they were just warming up. They all greeted us cheerfully; some of them were chatting casually with each other. I mentally took a step or three down from my high horse. I knew I'd be pooped after one lap--on my bike. These folks were slogging up and down the hills and through the sand strictly by their own propulsion (is that a correct usage of that word?)... I was humbled.

When I wasn't busy pulling over to get out of the runners' way, I was enjoying the views and the sounds of the crazy coyote chorus. The sky was blue and clear, the air was brisk, and yummy breakfast bagels awaited us at the end of the trail. It was a good morning. And it's only noon! I've got the whole day ahead of me.

We're going to play a bit, shop for a bit, and go watch the Ultimate Fighter Championships with some friends of Russell's. Wahoo!

Cell Phone response

Several people posted (Lurkers, unite!) with ideas on how to handle cell phone talkers in line to make purchases. While I find the idea of practicing my yodeling and/or shooting them with a waterpistol attractive, neither is really appropriate from my perspective as the girl behind the cash register.

What I generally do is treat them as though they are *not* on the phone, asking the questions I normally do, often in a louder voice than normal (yes, it is possible--no comments from the peanut gallery, please). I ask questions that require an answer--no nods of the head are allowed--and I make it plain that I expect answers. I don't ask those questions with an annoyed voice; I'm every bit as sweet with these jerks as the next person, but I do make it very clear that they need to turn their attention to ME--THE PERSON ABOUT TO TAKE THEIR MONEY!

That often is enough to get the point across and the offending customer will abruptly end the call, saying something like "The crazy girl at the checkout won't shut up; I'll have to call you back..."

Hey, whatever works.

Peevin'

1) Still, and always: people who talk on cell phones while they are simultaneously making a purchase. rudest thing ever. do humanity a favor and wait the 1 minute and 30 seconds the transaction will take to complete to make or recieve that call. And don't procreate.

2) people who let their dogs run off leash. they never seem to take into account the fact that dogs on leashes can become VERY upset at being accosted by a loose canine "buddy". or that at the least provocation the unleashed dog may bound into traffic...or just run away.

3) the fact that so few of my readers leave comments. or maybe I just have no readers. no. I refuse to accept that. damn lurkers! :P

4) working until 10pm and having to go back in to work at 7am.

5) people who NEVER EVER NO MATTER WHAT miss their breaks, even though others of us are busting ass to get stuff done.

6) needing 7 or more hours of sleep each night.

7) needing a job. period. and not being able to stay home and be a momma and go hiking with the hounds and take care of the house and just live.

8) not having any alchohol tolerance so that the Rockstar21 that I'm suckin down pretty much immediately makes me stoopid and overly chatty. and sleepy.... :D

Added Bonus!

Epsom Salt Bath = Super duper soft skin

(although it could have just been that the scalding hot water burned off the top layers of my epidermis, leaving the soft stuff behind...)

Jackie Chan couldn't hurt me more.

I imagine that being beaten up by Jackie Chan would be pretty painful. He's a badass. Strong, and quick, and unrelenting. I still think I would feel slightly better if I'd somehow gotten on his bad side than I do at the moment.

We--some random yahoo mtn. bike guy and myself--rode 13 miles today, at South Mountain. Thirteen miles doesn't sound like much, really, until you think about the fact that at least half of that was up hill. And all of it was riddled with rocks. And sand. And some more rocks. And a few errant suicidal chipmunks. No crazed Javalinas, though, which is a plus.

Anyway, my body aches and I'm moving much more slowly than usual (much to Russell's delight, since he can now smack my ass with abandon, knowing I can neither get away nor beat him up for it). I'm also feeling, mentally, DAMN GOOD. It's such a nice thing to get out and DO stuff. Not that I'll be able to do anything much for the next day or so, but still. :D

Epsom Salt Bath FTW!

Party Ducks?

Story of My Life: Poing!

No, I'm not a homicidal duck. I just get distracted easily.

Like now. I'm leaving in 15 minutes to go for a ride in S. Phoenix. I should eat, check my tires, load up my gear, finished getting dressed, take care of the hounds, and....stuff. Yeah. Poing.

Eleven Eleven

Delilah and I ran a mile today. Non stop. What a feat! Granted, it was a slow mile--between 10-11 minutes, but it was a mile run with no stopping save for the 10 seconds or so when I had to tie my shoe. The *really* exciting thing about it is that my heart rate barely broke the 160 mark. Two weeks ago when I started running, it would leap to 160+ within the first 15 feet out the door. I'm whippin this body into shape. If it doesn't fall apart on me, it'll all be good.

11:11 is when I logged into Blogger, in case you were worried by that cryptic title.

Nostalgia By Duststorm

Yesterday evening when I left work, the wind she was a howlin'. I had an immediate sense of joy and excitement, although I couldn't have told you why. I realised later that it reminded me of Oklahoma, where the wind really DOES come sweeping down the plain. Rarely a day passes there that there is not at least a gale-force breeze whipping things around. Driving is a fight for straight lines, ponytails and hats are the best bets for hair saving gestures, and rain and snow comes down nearly horizontally.
You couldn't have paid me to believe that I would miss any of that, yet when I walked out into the windy evening last night and my hair flew into my face, all I felt was glee. As I drove down the street, wrestling with the steering wheel and watching the "trees" whip around I felt so at home. I have missed the wind!
Today is proving to be as still as ever, but it's early yet. They are speculating rain by the end of the week, so perhaps we'll get a full on storm at some point. That would be icing!

should I be concerned?

...that after two weeks of "running" (more like jog/walk/jog walk) ever other day, I've actually *gained* weight? Someone please reinforce my belief that the flab is being replaced by muscle, which we all know weighs more!

...about that wierd catch in my right knee? it just doesn't seem right that it feels like there is a rubber band snapping inside it with every other step.

...that after sitting at the computer for about 15 minutes, and stretching before that, my heart rate is still 85bpm, according to the Garmin?

I probably should be concerned about all of these things, but I'm not going to get too worked up about it. It's Friday, after all..

Why I love the Fat Cyclist

I've got nothing clever to say. Leave that to Fat Cyclist. Be sure to go back and read the original posts to get the full story.

genious comedy, Luxury body or no....

Blogger vs. Paper Journal

I haven't been here in the past couple days because, well, I haven't really had anything to say. I feel that when I post here, I should have something funny or profound, or at the very least interesting to write. It's different with a paper journal--my brain sort of wanders and I write down whatever pops into my head. It's usually incredibly mundane stuff, but it sort of helps me sort through all the goo. I feel more on the spot here, and of course knowing that I have at least a handful of writers doesn't alleviate the pressure.

I tossed a paper journal into my xterra a few months ago, meaning to use it for jotting down random thoughts, grocery lists, etc. It got chucked into the back soon after, and I forgot about it until earlier this week. I pulled it out on my lunch break at work and scribbled for almost the entire 30 minutes. It's amazing the kind of crap that spews from my brain when I let down the gates. Probably for the best that you're not subjected to it! At any rate, this is just to say that as a sort of after-resolution, I plan to start journaling on paper more this year. Get my head straight. Maybe some of the more cohesive entries will be transposed here.