Wednesday, March 30, 2005
Monday, March 28, 2005
Heart Attack
This afternoon I almost rung in my twenty-sixth year with a heart attack. Well, not a real one, but something close.
I was backing out of my "space" at work, which I am always very careful about. You see, my boss always parks in front of our office when he is there. That would be directly behind and perpendicular to my car. My boss drives his newly acquired BMW to work. I am not all that into cars, but I have to say, this thing is beautiful. Everything about it reminds me why the payment on it is equal to about 4 months of my car. Again, I am always VERY careful when I back up. It's bad enough to hit a car when you are backing up. It's worse when that car is a BMW. It causes coronary malfunction when it is your boss' BMW.
As I backed up I checked all my blind spots. All was good. Beamer is in clear sight in the rearview. I start backing up and hear *SMASH CRUNCH*. Ability to breathe ceases at this moment, so the expletives were spoken silently. I look in the rearview before the inevitable tears of fear could reach my eyes. The BMW was still in plain sight in the rearview, but still looked far enough away. How could I possibly have hit it? I turn my entire body to the left and see a car that was hidden in one of the unfortunately large blind spots of the Honda Element. I have never been so relieved to see that I hit someone.
I pulled into a nearby space and hopped out of the car, trying to disguise my oddly placed glee. A woman who spoke a very odd version of English I was unfamiliar with started saying something frantically.
"You did no look, no hear, no SEE!!"
I looked at her funny and said, "I looked, but no, I did not see."
We looked at her car and there appeared to be no damage, although neither of us were sure of where I actually made contact. She inspected a bit further and then looked me in the eye for a moment.
"You lucky."
"Yup. Thanks." I took this to mean that I should go before she changed her mind. As I drove away my legs trembled as I thought about how close I was too ruining my newly acquired clean driving record, my job, and my boss' BMW.
Honda Element, bless your amazing back bumper.
Listening to: Redemption by Conjure One
Current Mood: Very relieved.
I was backing out of my "space" at work, which I am always very careful about. You see, my boss always parks in front of our office when he is there. That would be directly behind and perpendicular to my car. My boss drives his newly acquired BMW to work. I am not all that into cars, but I have to say, this thing is beautiful. Everything about it reminds me why the payment on it is equal to about 4 months of my car. Again, I am always VERY careful when I back up. It's bad enough to hit a car when you are backing up. It's worse when that car is a BMW. It causes coronary malfunction when it is your boss' BMW.
As I backed up I checked all my blind spots. All was good. Beamer is in clear sight in the rearview. I start backing up and hear *SMASH CRUNCH*. Ability to breathe ceases at this moment, so the expletives were spoken silently. I look in the rearview before the inevitable tears of fear could reach my eyes. The BMW was still in plain sight in the rearview, but still looked far enough away. How could I possibly have hit it? I turn my entire body to the left and see a car that was hidden in one of the unfortunately large blind spots of the Honda Element. I have never been so relieved to see that I hit someone.
I pulled into a nearby space and hopped out of the car, trying to disguise my oddly placed glee. A woman who spoke a very odd version of English I was unfamiliar with started saying something frantically.
"You did no look, no hear, no SEE!!"
I looked at her funny and said, "I looked, but no, I did not see."
We looked at her car and there appeared to be no damage, although neither of us were sure of where I actually made contact. She inspected a bit further and then looked me in the eye for a moment.
"You lucky."
"Yup. Thanks." I took this to mean that I should go before she changed her mind. As I drove away my legs trembled as I thought about how close I was too ruining my newly acquired clean driving record, my job, and my boss' BMW.
Honda Element, bless your amazing back bumper.
Listening to: Redemption by Conjure One
Current Mood: Very relieved.
Pep Rally
I managed to get out of bed early this morning!
The past week I seemed to be suffering from sleep deprivation. The solution? Drugs.
I had a bad headache on Friday night so I took some of my medication. This time, I forced myself to stay up for several hours after I took it. The result? Saturday morning my husband thought I was dead. The alarm clock went off several times and I didn't move. I am a very light sleeper. I never let the alarm clock ring more than once. My husband leaned over me to shut it off and I didn't move. At all. He spoke to me. Still nothing. He nudged me a little. Nada. Finally, just as he was about to seriously panic, I let out a little sigh. Sighing means breathing. He then decided not to try to wake me anymore. If I was that knocked out he figured I must need to sleep. (He didn't realize I had taken my meds the night before. Note to self: inform others when taking medication)
I woke up sometime around noon Saturday, wondering why no one woke me. I still felt pretty dead, but by later that afternoon I felt much better.
I am thinking that perhaps those 12+ hours of sleep have helped me catch up a bit. So I made it to the gym this morning. I worked out a bit longer than usual and it actually felt really good. Now I am sitting sipping Gatorade and feeling unusually peppy for a Monday morning.
Peppy is a nice feeling.
Listening to: I'm Not That Girl by Idina Menzel (from "Wicked")
Current Mood: Ummm...peppy. Pay attention.
The past week I seemed to be suffering from sleep deprivation. The solution? Drugs.
I had a bad headache on Friday night so I took some of my medication. This time, I forced myself to stay up for several hours after I took it. The result? Saturday morning my husband thought I was dead. The alarm clock went off several times and I didn't move. I am a very light sleeper. I never let the alarm clock ring more than once. My husband leaned over me to shut it off and I didn't move. At all. He spoke to me. Still nothing. He nudged me a little. Nada. Finally, just as he was about to seriously panic, I let out a little sigh. Sighing means breathing. He then decided not to try to wake me anymore. If I was that knocked out he figured I must need to sleep. (He didn't realize I had taken my meds the night before. Note to self: inform others when taking medication)
I woke up sometime around noon Saturday, wondering why no one woke me. I still felt pretty dead, but by later that afternoon I felt much better.
I am thinking that perhaps those 12+ hours of sleep have helped me catch up a bit. So I made it to the gym this morning. I worked out a bit longer than usual and it actually felt really good. Now I am sitting sipping Gatorade and feeling unusually peppy for a Monday morning.
Peppy is a nice feeling.
Listening to: I'm Not That Girl by Idina Menzel (from "Wicked")
Current Mood: Ummm...peppy. Pay attention.
Sunday, March 27, 2005
Quarter Life Crisis
I turned 26 today. At 3:29 a.m. to be exact.
I never think much about my age until my birthday. Even then I don't usually give it much thought. I never really felt my age. When I was young, I always felt older. Then somewhere around 16 I just kind of stopped aging in my mind. I still play video games, and act silly at times. I still worry excessively about what others think of me. I always feel like I am getting away with something when I am in the liquor store.
26. It sounds very different from 25. It tells me that I am on my way to 30. Not that 30 is a bad thing. When I was little, being in your 30's meant being my parents. My parents had five children at that point. They seemed so grown up. Now, most of my friends seem to be in their thirties. And they don't seem old at all. Maybe its because most of them don't have children. Children must make you seem older.
It just seems odd. I remember when 21 seemed impossibly far away. Now I can barely seem to keep track of the last five years.
When did time start moving so quickly?
Ok, enough of that.
My sister and I are going to be doing some shopping this week, as the family (that would be almost everyone - sister and finacee', mom and dad, both older brothers and their wives) is going away next weekend and staying in a beach house on some island off the coast. It sounds like a fun weekend, but it means that I have to endure a week of trying to find a bathing suit and other summer-y clothes. Just more motivation to hire Clappy.
sigh.
Listening to: Istanbul (Not Constantinople) by They Might Be Giants
Current Mood: just ok
I never think much about my age until my birthday. Even then I don't usually give it much thought. I never really felt my age. When I was young, I always felt older. Then somewhere around 16 I just kind of stopped aging in my mind. I still play video games, and act silly at times. I still worry excessively about what others think of me. I always feel like I am getting away with something when I am in the liquor store.
26. It sounds very different from 25. It tells me that I am on my way to 30. Not that 30 is a bad thing. When I was little, being in your 30's meant being my parents. My parents had five children at that point. They seemed so grown up. Now, most of my friends seem to be in their thirties. And they don't seem old at all. Maybe its because most of them don't have children. Children must make you seem older.
It just seems odd. I remember when 21 seemed impossibly far away. Now I can barely seem to keep track of the last five years.
When did time start moving so quickly?
Ok, enough of that.
My sister and I are going to be doing some shopping this week, as the family (that would be almost everyone - sister and finacee', mom and dad, both older brothers and their wives) is going away next weekend and staying in a beach house on some island off the coast. It sounds like a fun weekend, but it means that I have to endure a week of trying to find a bathing suit and other summer-y clothes. Just more motivation to hire Clappy.
sigh.
Listening to: Istanbul (Not Constantinople) by They Might Be Giants
Current Mood: just ok
Thursday, March 24, 2005
Secrets Revealed!
Morning everyone.
Yesterday morning I woke up early and went to the gym. I have been going in the afternoon this week, as I have been absolutely exhausted and I figure depriving my body of sleep is counterproductive in some way. I somehow managed to lock my keys (all of them, house, office, CAR) in my office as I was leaving on Tuesday, so I couldn't go into work until 9 am, which meant working later than usual. So I thought it best to get the work out done in the morning.
My sister showed up, so after cardio we walked around and did some weights together. We noticed that Clappy arrived. He looked over and greeted us, so I explained to Lindsey that today was the day.
Today we would find out about back fat.
We approached him and my sister tapped on his shoulder.
"What can I do for you?" beamed Clappy, as he put one arm around my shoulder, as if we were old friends.
"We need some help. What can one do about the back fat?" says my outgoing sister. It's so nice to have her along.
"Oh! Common problem, lots of women have a hard time with it." This right here is why I like Clappy. Already reassuring us that just because we battle the BF doesn't make us horrible fatties.
He then introduced himself to Lindsey as Ed. I explained to him that I always knew him as Clappy. He had no problem with this and proceeded to clap. Awesome.
We walked over to one machine that my sister uses all the time. She has tried to get me to use it, but it always gives me some grief. You sit in this seat that almost looks like you are sitting backwards on a chair. This means when I lean forward to grab the bars to pull the weight toward me, my boobs get crushed by what looks like the back of the chair. Not fun. While trying not to just say, "That thing crushes the ladies" I explained that that exercise caused me some discomfort. No problem. On to something else.
Clappy showed us something called the low row. You are sitting, legs in front of you, and you are pulling weight towards the area just under your chest. You pull far enough back that it almost feels like your shoulder blades are going to touch. As I was giving it a try I could definitely see where this would scare away the back fat.
We thanked Clappy and he went about his business. Lindsey now tried the exercise, with me explaining what Clappy said. There is a mirror right next to you when you do the low row, which I guess is helpful if you want to check on your posture. Lindsey decided it was good for checking out her own guns as she exercised. She rolled up her shirt sleeve and looked approvingly in the mirror as she pulled the weights. Noticing that a rather strong looking character was watching her, she yelled to him, "Don't worry, someday you'll get there too." Muscle man smiled, flexed, and winked, standard response I think for muscle men.
We exercised some more and on the way out we grabbed a pamphlet detailing personal training by Clappy. He talked with us a little more, clapped for Lindsey's wedding and gave her a high five, commented on our dedication, and then we were gone.
Those of you that also battle with the back fat, take heart (and perhaps, take notes)! I am being given the weapons to defeat it. Hopefully I will have more to share soon, as I budget to see if I can hire Clappy.
Listening to: Toy Soldiers by Martika
Current Mood: a little tired, despite skipping early morning gym time
Yesterday morning I woke up early and went to the gym. I have been going in the afternoon this week, as I have been absolutely exhausted and I figure depriving my body of sleep is counterproductive in some way. I somehow managed to lock my keys (all of them, house, office, CAR) in my office as I was leaving on Tuesday, so I couldn't go into work until 9 am, which meant working later than usual. So I thought it best to get the work out done in the morning.
My sister showed up, so after cardio we walked around and did some weights together. We noticed that Clappy arrived. He looked over and greeted us, so I explained to Lindsey that today was the day.
Today we would find out about back fat.
We approached him and my sister tapped on his shoulder.
"What can I do for you?" beamed Clappy, as he put one arm around my shoulder, as if we were old friends.
"We need some help. What can one do about the back fat?" says my outgoing sister. It's so nice to have her along.
"Oh! Common problem, lots of women have a hard time with it." This right here is why I like Clappy. Already reassuring us that just because we battle the BF doesn't make us horrible fatties.
He then introduced himself to Lindsey as Ed. I explained to him that I always knew him as Clappy. He had no problem with this and proceeded to clap. Awesome.
We walked over to one machine that my sister uses all the time. She has tried to get me to use it, but it always gives me some grief. You sit in this seat that almost looks like you are sitting backwards on a chair. This means when I lean forward to grab the bars to pull the weight toward me, my boobs get crushed by what looks like the back of the chair. Not fun. While trying not to just say, "That thing crushes the ladies" I explained that that exercise caused me some discomfort. No problem. On to something else.
Clappy showed us something called the low row. You are sitting, legs in front of you, and you are pulling weight towards the area just under your chest. You pull far enough back that it almost feels like your shoulder blades are going to touch. As I was giving it a try I could definitely see where this would scare away the back fat.
We thanked Clappy and he went about his business. Lindsey now tried the exercise, with me explaining what Clappy said. There is a mirror right next to you when you do the low row, which I guess is helpful if you want to check on your posture. Lindsey decided it was good for checking out her own guns as she exercised. She rolled up her shirt sleeve and looked approvingly in the mirror as she pulled the weights. Noticing that a rather strong looking character was watching her, she yelled to him, "Don't worry, someday you'll get there too." Muscle man smiled, flexed, and winked, standard response I think for muscle men.
We exercised some more and on the way out we grabbed a pamphlet detailing personal training by Clappy. He talked with us a little more, clapped for Lindsey's wedding and gave her a high five, commented on our dedication, and then we were gone.
Those of you that also battle with the back fat, take heart (and perhaps, take notes)! I am being given the weapons to defeat it. Hopefully I will have more to share soon, as I budget to see if I can hire Clappy.
Listening to: Toy Soldiers by Martika
Current Mood: a little tired, despite skipping early morning gym time
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Sometimes Work is Cool
Hi everyone. I have been slack in my writing duties. I apologize.
Yesterday I opted out of the early morning workout, and instead came into work at 6:40 a. Crazy? Not really. Being in at 6:40 equals getting out at 2:40 p. And this is a good thing. (I did workout after work, for those of you questioning my devotion to "the plan")
We had two men from Panama visit the office yesterday. (I work in a small office where I am occasionally joined by my boss, but for the most part, I have no visitors. There is a certain amount of freedom associated with this, a freedom that I enjoy. Like the aforementioned coming in early and leaving early arrangement.) We very rarely entertain visitors in our office. There is only one spare chair in the room as a testament to this fact.
But yesterday, we had to entertain not one, but two people. The men were from a financial institution in which there are funds associated with our business. (how's that for vague?) They flew out here just to check on what we are doing. Or at least that is what I was told. They arrived and then spoke with my boss for a while in his office. Then one emerged and approached me.
"I have sumsing for joo," he said and ceremoniously handed me something wrapped in bubble wrap.
"Thanks!" said I, in a higher pitch than I normally use, probably emerging due to the fact that I don't talk to anyone throughout my day.
The lovely Panamanian man gave me a nifty alarm clock. I was excited, as I had been contemplating purchasing an alarm clock. My cell phone was serving this function, but it gets confusing when I get a call in the middle of the night and think its my alarm, or vice versa.
Then the Panamanian men and my boss went to lunch, but not without snapping a photo of me before they left.
I hope I have not unwittingly agreed to be part of some mail order bride catalog. Free clock when you sign up!
I have a weird job, ya'll.
Listening to: Shut Up by Black Eyed Peas
Current Mood: Psyched that my work day ends in 30 minutes (that's right suckers!)
Yesterday I opted out of the early morning workout, and instead came into work at 6:40 a. Crazy? Not really. Being in at 6:40 equals getting out at 2:40 p. And this is a good thing. (I did workout after work, for those of you questioning my devotion to "the plan")
We had two men from Panama visit the office yesterday. (I work in a small office where I am occasionally joined by my boss, but for the most part, I have no visitors. There is a certain amount of freedom associated with this, a freedom that I enjoy. Like the aforementioned coming in early and leaving early arrangement.) We very rarely entertain visitors in our office. There is only one spare chair in the room as a testament to this fact.
But yesterday, we had to entertain not one, but two people. The men were from a financial institution in which there are funds associated with our business. (how's that for vague?) They flew out here just to check on what we are doing. Or at least that is what I was told. They arrived and then spoke with my boss for a while in his office. Then one emerged and approached me.
"I have sumsing for joo," he said and ceremoniously handed me something wrapped in bubble wrap.
"Thanks!" said I, in a higher pitch than I normally use, probably emerging due to the fact that I don't talk to anyone throughout my day.
The lovely Panamanian man gave me a nifty alarm clock. I was excited, as I had been contemplating purchasing an alarm clock. My cell phone was serving this function, but it gets confusing when I get a call in the middle of the night and think its my alarm, or vice versa.
Then the Panamanian men and my boss went to lunch, but not without snapping a photo of me before they left.
I hope I have not unwittingly agreed to be part of some mail order bride catalog. Free clock when you sign up!
I have a weird job, ya'll.
Listening to: Shut Up by Black Eyed Peas
Current Mood: Psyched that my work day ends in 30 minutes (that's right suckers!)
Saturday, March 19, 2005
Bringing Home the Bacon
The husband got a job!!!
And there was much rejoicing.
Technically, he doesn't have the job yet. They are in the process of running a background check, which involved getting his fingerprints taken at the police station, and he will still have to pee in a cup at some point next week. No worries on the background check, unless there is a law against naked bridge jumping. ("Wha?!" say my new found North Carolinian friends...a story for another day girls. Let's just say I married a wild one) There are also the final negotiations that will take place next week, discussions of salary and benefits and such. But he basically has the job.
I am very happy, as I have been playing breadwinner in this house for the past three months. It hasn't been a terrible thing. Its not as if I didn't support myself in the past when I was single. But when I was single, there were fewer bills to pay; a small apartment, one car, groceries for one. And when I was single, if I really wanted to buy something I just bought it. Period.
Supporting a family, even if it is a family of only two is a very different story. My ability to shop has been squelched completely. Every 5 dollars counts. Again, this isn't terrible, but it is an adjustment. I have been admittedly spoiled the past two years. I worked part time or not at all and there was always money to spend. Now that I think about it, I feel kind of bad that I had it so good.
Maybe this was a good thing. A reminder that everything shouldn't come so easy. A reminder to appreciate what I have when I have it.
The job is good for more than just financial reasons. The man has been getting a bit stir crazy not having work to do, and I think on some level, he feels bad that I am paying the bills. (Is that emasculating in some way?) Now he gets to be busy and useful. Not that he hasn't been useful at home. I think making me blueberry pancakes for breakfast is very useful, as is cleaning the ktichen.
All in all, good news here in FLA. It is sunny and a little cool and we plan on going to an art festival today. Feels kind of like home.
Listening to: Dead by They Might Be Giants
Current Mood: contented and full of blueberry pancakes
And there was much rejoicing.
Technically, he doesn't have the job yet. They are in the process of running a background check, which involved getting his fingerprints taken at the police station, and he will still have to pee in a cup at some point next week. No worries on the background check, unless there is a law against naked bridge jumping. ("Wha?!" say my new found North Carolinian friends...a story for another day girls. Let's just say I married a wild one) There are also the final negotiations that will take place next week, discussions of salary and benefits and such. But he basically has the job.
I am very happy, as I have been playing breadwinner in this house for the past three months. It hasn't been a terrible thing. Its not as if I didn't support myself in the past when I was single. But when I was single, there were fewer bills to pay; a small apartment, one car, groceries for one. And when I was single, if I really wanted to buy something I just bought it. Period.
Supporting a family, even if it is a family of only two is a very different story. My ability to shop has been squelched completely. Every 5 dollars counts. Again, this isn't terrible, but it is an adjustment. I have been admittedly spoiled the past two years. I worked part time or not at all and there was always money to spend. Now that I think about it, I feel kind of bad that I had it so good.
Maybe this was a good thing. A reminder that everything shouldn't come so easy. A reminder to appreciate what I have when I have it.
The job is good for more than just financial reasons. The man has been getting a bit stir crazy not having work to do, and I think on some level, he feels bad that I am paying the bills. (Is that emasculating in some way?) Now he gets to be busy and useful. Not that he hasn't been useful at home. I think making me blueberry pancakes for breakfast is very useful, as is cleaning the ktichen.
All in all, good news here in FLA. It is sunny and a little cool and we plan on going to an art festival today. Feels kind of like home.
Listening to: Dead by They Might Be Giants
Current Mood: contented and full of blueberry pancakes
Thursday, March 17, 2005
blech
Sorry I haven't posted the past few days. I got sick this weekend and haven't fully recovered. I kept thinking about writing, but then I also kept thinking about lying down, and, well, it's easy to see who wins that battle.
I missed going to the gym Monday and Tuesday on account of being ill, and although I probably should have rested another day, I went on Wednesday as well as today. Just missing those two days (combined with being in a weakened state from being sick) has resulted in feeling very ill when I work out. The different kinds of nausea I have experienced in the past two mornings are a special kind of fun. Even now, as I sip my orange juice and stare at the stack in my inbox, I am still feeling queasy. The kind of queasy that makes you make weird faces, like you just might throw up, but know it isn't actually going to happen.
In other news....I have decided that I need to come up with more interesting things to write about than how my workout is going. ("It's about time!" ~C.B.) I will continue to keep you updated, particularly if something interesting happens, like if I lose more weight or I pass out and Clappy comes to the rescue. Stuff like that.
At the moment, I seem to be low on topics. So please, feel free to suggest some. Actually, I demand it. SUGGEST!!
Ugh. Abdominal pain sucks. I think my innards are fighting.
Listening to: Separate Lives by Phil Collins (cause Launchcast wants me to love Adult Contemporary)
Current Mood: "You have nooo riiiiight, to ask me how I feeel..."
I missed going to the gym Monday and Tuesday on account of being ill, and although I probably should have rested another day, I went on Wednesday as well as today. Just missing those two days (combined with being in a weakened state from being sick) has resulted in feeling very ill when I work out. The different kinds of nausea I have experienced in the past two mornings are a special kind of fun. Even now, as I sip my orange juice and stare at the stack in my inbox, I am still feeling queasy. The kind of queasy that makes you make weird faces, like you just might throw up, but know it isn't actually going to happen.
In other news....I have decided that I need to come up with more interesting things to write about than how my workout is going. ("It's about time!" ~C.B.) I will continue to keep you updated, particularly if something interesting happens, like if I lose more weight or I pass out and Clappy comes to the rescue. Stuff like that.
At the moment, I seem to be low on topics. So please, feel free to suggest some. Actually, I demand it. SUGGEST!!
Ugh. Abdominal pain sucks. I think my innards are fighting.
Listening to: Separate Lives by Phil Collins (cause Launchcast wants me to love Adult Contemporary)
Current Mood: "You have nooo riiiiight, to ask me how I feeel..."
Friday, March 11, 2005
Smells Like Teen Spirit
I bought a box of Mentos just a little bit ago while running errands for the office. I haven't had them in a very long time - I don't think I was even aware that they came in a box now. I was accustomed to the roll form, similar to a pack of lifesavers, only bigger.
I popped a pink one in my mouth (to get get rid of the taste from an orange one I had just consumed) and a funny feeling came over me. I started thinking about the first time I was exposed to programming. I was in a summer program just before I entered 6th grade. We learned how to do BASIC programming, and created all sorts of simple games and pictures. I loved that summer. Why did I suddenly start thinking about something that happened 15 years ago? Whenever we would have our break during the day, one of my friends and I would go down to the vending machine and get a pack of Mentos for 40 cents. And pink was always my favorite.
Isn't it strange how a memory can be triggered so strongly by a taste? Or even a smell or sound?
Like everytime I hear a song from Alanis Morrisette's Jagged Little Pill I think about the Physics Olympics in high school. I was in the PastaMobile event. Our little car made of lasagna and ziti and such did not fare well. It crashed at the bottom of the ramp. But we spent the whole rest of the day hanging out on a college campus and missing class, so it was a happy time.
Or everytime I smell Curve I think of the what it felt like to be in love for the first time in my life. And what it was like to have my heart broken.
Or everytime I hear Billy Joel sing "So It Goes" I think of playing video Clue and Frogger at my cousins' house in Connecticut, and thinking that was the coolest house in the world.
I would love to test someone like that. Expose them to a variety of flavors, sounds, and scents in the course of a day and see how many different things they remember from their past. It would probably be a fairly useless test, but I think it would be interesting.
Do any of you have memories that are triggered by certain senses?
I popped a pink one in my mouth (to get get rid of the taste from an orange one I had just consumed) and a funny feeling came over me. I started thinking about the first time I was exposed to programming. I was in a summer program just before I entered 6th grade. We learned how to do BASIC programming, and created all sorts of simple games and pictures. I loved that summer. Why did I suddenly start thinking about something that happened 15 years ago? Whenever we would have our break during the day, one of my friends and I would go down to the vending machine and get a pack of Mentos for 40 cents. And pink was always my favorite.
Isn't it strange how a memory can be triggered so strongly by a taste? Or even a smell or sound?
Like everytime I hear a song from Alanis Morrisette's Jagged Little Pill I think about the Physics Olympics in high school. I was in the PastaMobile event. Our little car made of lasagna and ziti and such did not fare well. It crashed at the bottom of the ramp. But we spent the whole rest of the day hanging out on a college campus and missing class, so it was a happy time.
Or everytime I smell Curve I think of the what it felt like to be in love for the first time in my life. And what it was like to have my heart broken.
Or everytime I hear Billy Joel sing "So It Goes" I think of playing video Clue and Frogger at my cousins' house in Connecticut, and thinking that was the coolest house in the world.
I would love to test someone like that. Expose them to a variety of flavors, sounds, and scents in the course of a day and see how many different things they remember from their past. It would probably be a fairly useless test, but I think it would be interesting.
Do any of you have memories that are triggered by certain senses?
Thursday, March 10, 2005
The Scales
Morning everyone.
I have been at work for an hour already, and as I look at the clock, I yearn for the days when I would roll out of bed at 7:30. They seem so long ago. *sigh*
As you may have guessed, I made it to the gym this morning. Nothing too great to report about the workout. But I did step on the scale today. I know, my last weigh in was not that long ago, but I was obsessing over the fact that I did not work out at all yesterday. I was well intentioned, bringing gym clothes with me and all. I even changed into them before I left the office. Somehow, my car drove to my apartment instead. Being the slightly obsessive compulsive person that I can be, I was convinced that missing that one day had put me off track. And the cup of ice cream I had last night probably did not help the situation.
On the scale I went, wincing as I slid the weight over. I slid it to 168, half a pound more than the last weigh in and held my breath. (For those of you who were to lazy to convert the stones last time, now you know.) Slid it over a little more to 167.5. Still not right. Finally, at 166.25 (yes, every little bit counts) I stopped. I lost another pound!!! And a quarter!
This brings me to a total of 9.75 pounds of loss so far. Tuesday is the end of the first 30 days. I only have a quarter of a pound to lose between now and then.
I have a feeling this task is going to get a lot harder very soon.
Listening to: (What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding by Elvis Costello
Current Mood: I am way too cold to be in any mood...
I have been at work for an hour already, and as I look at the clock, I yearn for the days when I would roll out of bed at 7:30. They seem so long ago. *sigh*
As you may have guessed, I made it to the gym this morning. Nothing too great to report about the workout. But I did step on the scale today. I know, my last weigh in was not that long ago, but I was obsessing over the fact that I did not work out at all yesterday. I was well intentioned, bringing gym clothes with me and all. I even changed into them before I left the office. Somehow, my car drove to my apartment instead. Being the slightly obsessive compulsive person that I can be, I was convinced that missing that one day had put me off track. And the cup of ice cream I had last night probably did not help the situation.
On the scale I went, wincing as I slid the weight over. I slid it to 168, half a pound more than the last weigh in and held my breath. (For those of you who were to lazy to convert the stones last time, now you know.) Slid it over a little more to 167.5. Still not right. Finally, at 166.25 (yes, every little bit counts) I stopped. I lost another pound!!! And a quarter!
This brings me to a total of 9.75 pounds of loss so far. Tuesday is the end of the first 30 days. I only have a quarter of a pound to lose between now and then.
I have a feeling this task is going to get a lot harder very soon.
Listening to: (What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding by Elvis Costello
Current Mood: I am way too cold to be in any mood...
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
Resting...
I did not go the gym this morning.
I took the prescription the doc gave me last night after dinner, which means that sometime after I fell asleep. I am not completely sure when, and I am not sure how I got from the couch to the bed, but I was knocked out. This morning I am stil recovering, so the gym seemed like a bad idea.
I did however, bring my gym clothes so that I can head there after work.
For now, I am just trying to regain complete conciousness.
Listening to: Your Work and Nothing More from Jekyll and Hyde: The Broadway Soundtrack
Current Mood: Lethargic maybe?
I took the prescription the doc gave me last night after dinner, which means that sometime after I fell asleep. I am not completely sure when, and I am not sure how I got from the couch to the bed, but I was knocked out. This morning I am stil recovering, so the gym seemed like a bad idea.
I did however, bring my gym clothes so that I can head there after work.
For now, I am just trying to regain complete conciousness.
Listening to: Your Work and Nothing More from Jekyll and Hyde: The Broadway Soundtrack
Current Mood: Lethargic maybe?
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Shout Down
Yesterday, a very close friend became one year older. The number is not important, but let's just say it's not as exciting as turning, say, 21.
I will refrain from mentioning her name or age.
Instead, I would like to tell you all why she is one of the greatest people I know and someone I love very much.
She took me in and befriended me in a place where I knew no one.
She is one of the most loyal friends a person could have. She would fight anyone who wronged you, sit with you when you are a crying, snotty mess, and even tell you when you are being stupid, but in a way that just makes you love her more.
She is generous.
She has opinions. One's that are actually interesting.
She isn't swayed by others. She is a true individual.
She is very intelligent, but never condescending.
She taught me to appreciate broccoli.
She is beautiful.
She is the one thing I never had in my very large and pleasant family; a big sister.
She is one of the things I miss most about leaving the West Coast.
Hopefully, she knows all of these things, and on the day after she just got a little older (yet still so very far from being old) I hope that these are the things that she is thinking about.
To the unnamed woman - you are FANTASTIC!
Listening to: Beautiful by Joydrop
Current Mood: still angry about the toilet....and missing my friends in WA
I will refrain from mentioning her name or age.
Instead, I would like to tell you all why she is one of the greatest people I know and someone I love very much.
She took me in and befriended me in a place where I knew no one.
She is one of the most loyal friends a person could have. She would fight anyone who wronged you, sit with you when you are a crying, snotty mess, and even tell you when you are being stupid, but in a way that just makes you love her more.
She is generous.
She has opinions. One's that are actually interesting.
She isn't swayed by others. She is a true individual.
She is very intelligent, but never condescending.
She taught me to appreciate broccoli.
She is beautiful.
She is the one thing I never had in my very large and pleasant family; a big sister.
She is one of the things I miss most about leaving the West Coast.
Hopefully, she knows all of these things, and on the day after she just got a little older (yet still so very far from being old) I hope that these are the things that she is thinking about.
To the unnamed woman - you are FANTASTIC!
Listening to: Beautiful by Joydrop
Current Mood: still angry about the toilet....and missing my friends in WA
The Rain is Not Helping
I mentioned that I am currently upset with the management here in my office building. Here is the reason why.
On Friday afternoon, the one toilet in my office backed up. I called management to send someone out and was informed that they had decided to give maintenance the afternoon off. I am not sure what the line of thinking was when they decided there should be NO maintenance personnel available all afternoon, and I expressed this when I told the apartment manager that she needed to come down to my suite with a plunger, since she decided that maintenance should go home. She claimed she didn't have a key to the maintenance closet and said that someone would be sent out first thing Monday morning. There was little I could do, so I went home a little earlier.
Monday morning comes. "First thing" to me implies the beginning of the average business day. I get here as early as 7:00 am, but did not expect to see anyone until 8 or so. As the clock approached 10 am, I called management to find out what their definition of "first thing" really meant. They sent someone, who worked for quite a while, but with no success. He asked me what time I arrived at the office in the morning so he could finish the job first thing in the morning.
Here I am, approaching 10 am once again. I have left messages on all three numbers for the building (main number, maintenance, and emergency...I am glad the place isn't on fire or anything judging by their emergency response). There is nothing quite like trying to concentrate on your work when your bladder is beyond full. Today is not turning out to be my day.
My one non-scary neighbor just pulled in the parking lot. Let's hope her toilet is working.
Listening to: Deep Dark Truthful Mirror by Elvis Costello
Current Mood: Still upset, but slightly hopeful about the possibility of bladder relief in the near future
On Friday afternoon, the one toilet in my office backed up. I called management to send someone out and was informed that they had decided to give maintenance the afternoon off. I am not sure what the line of thinking was when they decided there should be NO maintenance personnel available all afternoon, and I expressed this when I told the apartment manager that she needed to come down to my suite with a plunger, since she decided that maintenance should go home. She claimed she didn't have a key to the maintenance closet and said that someone would be sent out first thing Monday morning. There was little I could do, so I went home a little earlier.
Monday morning comes. "First thing" to me implies the beginning of the average business day. I get here as early as 7:00 am, but did not expect to see anyone until 8 or so. As the clock approached 10 am, I called management to find out what their definition of "first thing" really meant. They sent someone, who worked for quite a while, but with no success. He asked me what time I arrived at the office in the morning so he could finish the job first thing in the morning.
Here I am, approaching 10 am once again. I have left messages on all three numbers for the building (main number, maintenance, and emergency...I am glad the place isn't on fire or anything judging by their emergency response). There is nothing quite like trying to concentrate on your work when your bladder is beyond full. Today is not turning out to be my day.
My one non-scary neighbor just pulled in the parking lot. Let's hope her toilet is working.
Listening to: Deep Dark Truthful Mirror by Elvis Costello
Current Mood: Still upset, but slightly hopeful about the possibility of bladder relief in the near future
No More Pain
I hurt this morning.
I woke up with a headache, not an uncommon scenario for me. I have struggled with severe headaches for many years, although they have increased in frequency and intensity in the last 2 to 3 years. I have been to more than one doctor, none of which have ever been able to give me useful information as to why I am having these headaches. Their solution is always the same. Drugs. While I don't mind popping the occasional pill for relief, I don't believe that is a sufficient way to actually treat my problem. (The drug I am currently supposed to be taking daily, per the last doc's orders, is addictive. And I am unable to function when I am under its influence.)
I have also tried going the alternative route. While they seem to have more insight into what ails me, it is very difficult to find an alternative practitioner that is a) affordable b) not weird. Also, the amount of vitamins, supplements, homeopathics, and herbs I end up being told I need to take to fix me is obscene in expense and amount. I don't swallow pills well as it is, so you can imagine how much I enjoy swallowing 30 a day.
This is part of the reason that I started working out. The variety of information I have received/read, etc.. seems to point to issues with my thyroid and adrenal function. I figured that exercise is probably good for me, so when I started this whole "30 in 90" routine, I payed attention to how my headaches were. I still get them, but they have been less frequent and severe.
Until today.
This morning I woke up with the start of a familiar headache. When you have had them as long as I have, you start to recognize the different kinds; this one is from stress, this one from not eating. This mornings headache was the kind that tends to grow worse as time goes by. I debated on whether I should stay in bed or go work out. I went back and forth about it for a bit, then finally decided that the exercise had helped prevent some headaches, so maybe it will help get rid of one already in progress.
I know. Dumb. Admittedly, my thought process at 5 am tends to be slightly impaired.
I got to the gym, did the elliptical for 30 minutes, then weights for another 30. I got home and I was shaking. I had to take a bath instead of a shower for fear that I might collapse if I had to stand. Not a good sign.
Now I am sitting in my office with pain in my head that is heading towards blinding. On top of that, I upped the weight I use when working my sides, so they are quite sore. I think I just may have to resort to drugs when I get home. (For my friends that work in the medical field, or just are interested in drugs, I will be taking cyclobenzaprine, a drug that blocks nerve impulses from reaching the brain)
Lesson for the day: Slow down.
Listening to: Evil by Interpol (the video for this song features a puppet that freaks me out, as does the rest of the creator's art)
Current Mood: Very perturbed with the building management at my office
I woke up with a headache, not an uncommon scenario for me. I have struggled with severe headaches for many years, although they have increased in frequency and intensity in the last 2 to 3 years. I have been to more than one doctor, none of which have ever been able to give me useful information as to why I am having these headaches. Their solution is always the same. Drugs. While I don't mind popping the occasional pill for relief, I don't believe that is a sufficient way to actually treat my problem. (The drug I am currently supposed to be taking daily, per the last doc's orders, is addictive. And I am unable to function when I am under its influence.)
I have also tried going the alternative route. While they seem to have more insight into what ails me, it is very difficult to find an alternative practitioner that is a) affordable b) not weird. Also, the amount of vitamins, supplements, homeopathics, and herbs I end up being told I need to take to fix me is obscene in expense and amount. I don't swallow pills well as it is, so you can imagine how much I enjoy swallowing 30 a day.
This is part of the reason that I started working out. The variety of information I have received/read, etc.. seems to point to issues with my thyroid and adrenal function. I figured that exercise is probably good for me, so when I started this whole "30 in 90" routine, I payed attention to how my headaches were. I still get them, but they have been less frequent and severe.
Until today.
This morning I woke up with the start of a familiar headache. When you have had them as long as I have, you start to recognize the different kinds; this one is from stress, this one from not eating. This mornings headache was the kind that tends to grow worse as time goes by. I debated on whether I should stay in bed or go work out. I went back and forth about it for a bit, then finally decided that the exercise had helped prevent some headaches, so maybe it will help get rid of one already in progress.
I know. Dumb. Admittedly, my thought process at 5 am tends to be slightly impaired.
I got to the gym, did the elliptical for 30 minutes, then weights for another 30. I got home and I was shaking. I had to take a bath instead of a shower for fear that I might collapse if I had to stand. Not a good sign.
Now I am sitting in my office with pain in my head that is heading towards blinding. On top of that, I upped the weight I use when working my sides, so they are quite sore. I think I just may have to resort to drugs when I get home. (For my friends that work in the medical field, or just are interested in drugs, I will be taking cyclobenzaprine, a drug that blocks nerve impulses from reaching the brain)
Lesson for the day: Slow down.
Listening to: Evil by Interpol (the video for this song features a puppet that freaks me out, as does the rest of the creator's art)
Current Mood: Very perturbed with the building management at my office
Monday, March 07, 2005
Grumble
Yes, I went to the gym this morning. Leave me alone.
I got to bed late last night. Well, it was midnight, and while just a few years back that was a normal bedtime for me, now it is not. At all. This morning when my cell phone alarm rang at 5 am I thought to myself, "There is no way I am getting up." I shut off the alarm and reset it so it wouldn't go off again. I deserve a morning to sleep in a bit.
As I lay there, quickly falling back asleep, I started to think about the dinner from the night before: chicken parmigiana, some wine, followed by a dessert of coffee, mini eclairs and creampuffs. I thought of all that sitting in my stomach. Sitting and turning into fat. Fat that I have spent the last 3 weeks trying so hard to get rid of. At 5:30 I was up packing my gym bag and heading out the door, angry at anyone in the house that was still sleeping.
The workout went fine. But I was still tired. And grumpy. Fortunately, no one really tried to talk to me today.
I think I may take a nap at my desk.
Don't wake me.
Listening to: Thing by Amerie (thank you Lindsey, for making me like this song)
Current Mood: Mad at Launchcast for playing an upbeat song when I want to be grumpy
I got to bed late last night. Well, it was midnight, and while just a few years back that was a normal bedtime for me, now it is not. At all. This morning when my cell phone alarm rang at 5 am I thought to myself, "There is no way I am getting up." I shut off the alarm and reset it so it wouldn't go off again. I deserve a morning to sleep in a bit.
As I lay there, quickly falling back asleep, I started to think about the dinner from the night before: chicken parmigiana, some wine, followed by a dessert of coffee, mini eclairs and creampuffs. I thought of all that sitting in my stomach. Sitting and turning into fat. Fat that I have spent the last 3 weeks trying so hard to get rid of. At 5:30 I was up packing my gym bag and heading out the door, angry at anyone in the house that was still sleeping.
The workout went fine. But I was still tired. And grumpy. Fortunately, no one really tried to talk to me today.
I think I may take a nap at my desk.
Don't wake me.
Listening to: Thing by Amerie (thank you Lindsey, for making me like this song)
Current Mood: Mad at Launchcast for playing an upbeat song when I want to be grumpy
Friday, March 04, 2005
Falling Off the Wagon
Another cold day in the office. Cold enough to drive me to flee to Starbucks for a Venti Caramel Macchiato.
Starbucks and I are in an abusive relationship.
I haven't been drinking coffee for some time now. The caffeine was disagreeing with my stomach, and my penchant for the polysyllabic drinks filled with sugar and dairy definitely played a part in the 30+ pound weight gain while in Seattle.
But this morning, I was too cold to care about the ill effects I might have to suffer. Hot frothy goodness was calling to me. There was no fighting it's siren song; my strength had been sapped from trying to stay warm for the past several hours.
(Sidenote: Ladies, have you ever noticed that when you are cold, it always seems to be your hands and feet that are the coldest? Now I know you are thinking, "Duh, those are like, almost the only parts that aren't covered." You are now also wondering why I made you all sound like dumb valley girls. The point is, scientists believe that the female body is wired to send all the heat available in the body to the midsection, to protect the womb. This is why when I stick my cold feet on my husband's side of the bed he yells at my stomach "There is no baby!!" Also, he is crazy.)
Here I sit, stomach feeling a little uneasy, reminding me why I stopped drinking these things in the first place. The venti cup stands high, proud; he knows that he has won today. I tell him that I don't want to see him ever again. He casts a smug glance in my direction, insulating sleeve pulled high, because he knows I won't leave for long. The weather will turn cold again, or an early morning will catch up with me. And he will be waiting.
With whipped cream on top.
Listening to: Eternal Flame by The Bangles (hot!)
Mood: Totally 80's. An era when you didn't have to actually know how to dance to anything. You just moved.
Starbucks and I are in an abusive relationship.
I haven't been drinking coffee for some time now. The caffeine was disagreeing with my stomach, and my penchant for the polysyllabic drinks filled with sugar and dairy definitely played a part in the 30+ pound weight gain while in Seattle.
But this morning, I was too cold to care about the ill effects I might have to suffer. Hot frothy goodness was calling to me. There was no fighting it's siren song; my strength had been sapped from trying to stay warm for the past several hours.
(Sidenote: Ladies, have you ever noticed that when you are cold, it always seems to be your hands and feet that are the coldest? Now I know you are thinking, "Duh, those are like, almost the only parts that aren't covered." You are now also wondering why I made you all sound like dumb valley girls. The point is, scientists believe that the female body is wired to send all the heat available in the body to the midsection, to protect the womb. This is why when I stick my cold feet on my husband's side of the bed he yells at my stomach "There is no baby!!" Also, he is crazy.)
Here I sit, stomach feeling a little uneasy, reminding me why I stopped drinking these things in the first place. The venti cup stands high, proud; he knows that he has won today. I tell him that I don't want to see him ever again. He casts a smug glance in my direction, insulating sleeve pulled high, because he knows I won't leave for long. The weather will turn cold again, or an early morning will catch up with me. And he will be waiting.
With whipped cream on top.
Listening to: Eternal Flame by The Bangles (hot!)
Mood: Totally 80's. An era when you didn't have to actually know how to dance to anything. You just moved.
The Results Are In
It's Friday - the end of a long week of waking up early. Today is also weigh in day.
To bring everyone up to speed, I started this crazy workout plan 2 1/2 weeks ago. The idea was to lose 2.5 pounds a week, for a total of thirty pounds in three months. Ambitious? Perhaps. Realistic? I am still inclined to say no, since my plan consists mainly of working out but not making any major dietary changes. If I were restricting myself to protein shakes and salads then I am sure I would hit my goal. However, I know me, and I know that I don't like to restrict myself to that extent when it comes to food. (What fun is cooking when you are thinking about every calorie that goes into the meal?)
As of early last week when I was weighed at the doctor I had lost 5 pounds. Having exceeded the 2.5/wk goal was just the motivation necessary to continue on my mission.
Today's weigh in had me scared.
In the past when I have attempted to work out regularly, I have been quick to give up upon seeing the small amount of progress I was making. Sometimes I had even gained weight! So today I was afraid of the scale. No matter how many times I mumbled "muscle weighs more than fat, just remember that", I wanted to be able to slide that little weight further and further to the left.
I stepped on the scale. I slid the large weight (the one that does increments of 50 pounds) directly to 150, since the only chance I was under that was having something surgically removed. Then I slid the top weight all the way over to 190. I don't weigh that much, but it feels better when you have to push that little weight further and further over to reach your weight.
Up until now I have not divulged my weight. From what I am told, a woman never tells her weight. Being the unconventional person that I am, here it goes. When I started this workout I weighed 12.57 stones. Ha! I tricked you! Convert it!!! If I am going to tell you my weight, you may as well have to work for it.
But seriously, whenever I would tell people what I weighed they would look at me and go "NO!" And then I would nod and smile and say, "Yes." And they would again shake their head. Several times I have been asked to step on a scale. I am not exactly sure why someone would think I would lie about being overweight. I mean, if I was going to lie, shouldn't I weigh less?
I guess I store it well (its called boobs and booty my friends - I'm a brick house). Even stored well, it makes shopping for clothes not fun at all.
Back to the scale. I held my breath as I slowly slid the...whatever you call that little thing on the scale...to the left. I was approaching the weight from last time, after the .357 stone loss (ooo...if you are good with math you can start converting now) and noticed that I needed to continue left. Yay! No weight gain. I continued. I finally stopped at 11.96 stones. I had lost another .25 stones! For those of you who haven't figured out the stone to pound conversion yet, click here. As you can see, I am more than on track for my 30 pounds in 90 days. I still don't really expect to reach it, but I am pleased with the results thus far.
Success, even in small amounts, feels good.
Thank you all for keeping me motivated. Writing about this and knowing you are reading gives me a sense of accountability. Without that, I would still be under my blanket catching those last five minutes of sleep.
I can't believe I am thanking you for making me get up early. Curse you.
Listening to: Not the Same by Ben Folds Five
Current Mood: Contemplative. About what? How soon I should leave the office to get a coffee. No one said I was deep.
To bring everyone up to speed, I started this crazy workout plan 2 1/2 weeks ago. The idea was to lose 2.5 pounds a week, for a total of thirty pounds in three months. Ambitious? Perhaps. Realistic? I am still inclined to say no, since my plan consists mainly of working out but not making any major dietary changes. If I were restricting myself to protein shakes and salads then I am sure I would hit my goal. However, I know me, and I know that I don't like to restrict myself to that extent when it comes to food. (What fun is cooking when you are thinking about every calorie that goes into the meal?)
As of early last week when I was weighed at the doctor I had lost 5 pounds. Having exceeded the 2.5/wk goal was just the motivation necessary to continue on my mission.
Today's weigh in had me scared.
In the past when I have attempted to work out regularly, I have been quick to give up upon seeing the small amount of progress I was making. Sometimes I had even gained weight! So today I was afraid of the scale. No matter how many times I mumbled "muscle weighs more than fat, just remember that", I wanted to be able to slide that little weight further and further to the left.
I stepped on the scale. I slid the large weight (the one that does increments of 50 pounds) directly to 150, since the only chance I was under that was having something surgically removed. Then I slid the top weight all the way over to 190. I don't weigh that much, but it feels better when you have to push that little weight further and further over to reach your weight.
Up until now I have not divulged my weight. From what I am told, a woman never tells her weight. Being the unconventional person that I am, here it goes. When I started this workout I weighed 12.57 stones. Ha! I tricked you! Convert it!!! If I am going to tell you my weight, you may as well have to work for it.
But seriously, whenever I would tell people what I weighed they would look at me and go "NO!" And then I would nod and smile and say, "Yes." And they would again shake their head. Several times I have been asked to step on a scale. I am not exactly sure why someone would think I would lie about being overweight. I mean, if I was going to lie, shouldn't I weigh less?
I guess I store it well (its called boobs and booty my friends - I'm a brick house). Even stored well, it makes shopping for clothes not fun at all.
Back to the scale. I held my breath as I slowly slid the...whatever you call that little thing on the scale...to the left. I was approaching the weight from last time, after the .357 stone loss (ooo...if you are good with math you can start converting now) and noticed that I needed to continue left. Yay! No weight gain. I continued. I finally stopped at 11.96 stones. I had lost another .25 stones! For those of you who haven't figured out the stone to pound conversion yet, click here. As you can see, I am more than on track for my 30 pounds in 90 days. I still don't really expect to reach it, but I am pleased with the results thus far.
Success, even in small amounts, feels good.
Thank you all for keeping me motivated. Writing about this and knowing you are reading gives me a sense of accountability. Without that, I would still be under my blanket catching those last five minutes of sleep.
I can't believe I am thanking you for making me get up early. Curse you.
Listening to: Not the Same by Ben Folds Five
Current Mood: Contemplative. About what? How soon I should leave the office to get a coffee. No one said I was deep.
Thursday, March 03, 2005
Turn on the Heat
It is freezing in my office. The heater is broken and has been since we started renting this place. Usually in Florida this wouldn't be much of an issue. But this would be the year that it's not already 80 degrees in March, like every other summer I have spent here. No. It would have to be cold and wet. I went to my gym during lunch and took advantage of their tanning facilities, in hopes that the fake sun would confuse my body into thinking it was warm. It worked for a short time, but now all warmth has escaped. Now I sit, in jeans and a sweatshirt, trying to figure out how to keep warm. I may have to resort to burning FedEx bills for warmth.
I have been instructed not to pay rent on our office space this month, since they have neglected to fix or even contact us about the heater. Since rent is due, well, today I believe, it should make for an interesting encounter with the property manager. And who said I was bored? Hmmm...the potential for drama in the near future is high.
Listening to: Tribute by Tenacious D
Current Mood: trying not to be miserable from the cold and a headache brought on by disguised red onions in my lunch
I have been instructed not to pay rent on our office space this month, since they have neglected to fix or even contact us about the heater. Since rent is due, well, today I believe, it should make for an interesting encounter with the property manager. And who said I was bored? Hmmm...the potential for drama in the near future is high.
Listening to: Tribute by Tenacious D
Current Mood: trying not to be miserable from the cold and a headache brought on by disguised red onions in my lunch
*snore*
I am so tired. Thursdays are my least favorite day of the week I think.
I woke up this morning without the alarm just a little before 5 a.m. so rather than go back to sleep for 10 minutes, I went ahead and relunctantly got up. When I arrived at the gym and started on the machine, I knew that there was no way that today was going to be a 40 minute day. Everything hurt and I was so sleepy and it was cold outside and I just wanted to go home and curl up under the covers. I managed to make it to twenty minutes and, bridesmaid dress in mind, decided to work the upper body. I did a lot more than I usually do, probably a subconcious way of making up for not going as long on the elliptical/cross-trainer thingy. I left at about 10 after 6. A slightly shorter workout than usual, but I think I deserve a morning of semi-rest.
Tomorrow is weigh in day. I am pretty sure there will be little to no loss, since the first week I had a whopping 5 pounds of loss. So the mantra for the weigh in tomorrow will be "muscle weighs more than fat".
Too tired for anymore detail about the morning....
Listening to: Dramamine by Modest Mouse (one of my fav Modest Mouse songs)
Current Mood: Sleepy. And hungry. For a steak dinner.
I woke up this morning without the alarm just a little before 5 a.m. so rather than go back to sleep for 10 minutes, I went ahead and relunctantly got up. When I arrived at the gym and started on the machine, I knew that there was no way that today was going to be a 40 minute day. Everything hurt and I was so sleepy and it was cold outside and I just wanted to go home and curl up under the covers. I managed to make it to twenty minutes and, bridesmaid dress in mind, decided to work the upper body. I did a lot more than I usually do, probably a subconcious way of making up for not going as long on the elliptical/cross-trainer thingy. I left at about 10 after 6. A slightly shorter workout than usual, but I think I deserve a morning of semi-rest.
Tomorrow is weigh in day. I am pretty sure there will be little to no loss, since the first week I had a whopping 5 pounds of loss. So the mantra for the weigh in tomorrow will be "muscle weighs more than fat".
Too tired for anymore detail about the morning....
Listening to: Dramamine by Modest Mouse (one of my fav Modest Mouse songs)
Current Mood: Sleepy. And hungry. For a steak dinner.
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
Fun AND Educational
Some of you who have been reading have asked the question, "What is a blog?"
From reading it is apparent that it involves an online journal, but for the sake of educating some of you, here is a more full definition.
blog
A frequent, chronological publication of personal thoughts and Web links.
A blog is often a mixture of what is happening in a person's life and what is happening on the Web, a kind of hybrid diary/guide site, although there are as many unique types of blogs as there are people. Some people use blogs merely as an online journal and nothing more. Others use them to spout political views, comment on news items, or collect some type of related information. Some are turn into fan sites. Still others use them to shamelessly promote their line of business.
People maintained blogs long before the term was coined, but the trend gained momentum with the introduction of automated published systems, most notably Blogger at blogger.com. (hey, that's where we are right now!) Thousands of people use services such as Blogger to simplify and accelerate the publishing process.
Blogs are alternatively called web logs or weblogs. However, "blog" seems less likely to cause confusion, as "web log" can also mean a server's log files.
So there you go. That is what a blog is. And for those of you who don't like saying blog (is it really as bad as moist?), now that you fully understand what it is you can make up your own name.
From reading it is apparent that it involves an online journal, but for the sake of educating some of you, here is a more full definition.
blog
A frequent, chronological publication of personal thoughts and Web links.
A blog is often a mixture of what is happening in a person's life and what is happening on the Web, a kind of hybrid diary/guide site, although there are as many unique types of blogs as there are people. Some people use blogs merely as an online journal and nothing more. Others use them to spout political views, comment on news items, or collect some type of related information. Some are turn into fan sites. Still others use them to shamelessly promote their line of business.
People maintained blogs long before the term was coined, but the trend gained momentum with the introduction of automated published systems, most notably Blogger at blogger.com. (hey, that's where we are right now!) Thousands of people use services such as Blogger to simplify and accelerate the publishing process.
Blogs are alternatively called web logs or weblogs. However, "blog" seems less likely to cause confusion, as "web log" can also mean a server's log files.
So there you go. That is what a blog is. And for those of you who don't like saying blog (is it really as bad as moist?), now that you fully understand what it is you can make up your own name.
Motivational with a capital OW
This morning I received the following message, sent to a group of people, from a friend in NC:
"ok guys, reading amber's blog has moved me to go back to the gym. i thought i had no time, but the gym opens @ 6:00, so i figured if amber can do it, i can do it. so this morning i went into the gym @ 6:00, and i'm gonna try to keep it up...we'll see..."
Is this possible? In my quest for a flatter stomach, guns, and firm buttocks am I in fact, aiding others?
An old friend from high school has started a similar initiative (Feb 28th entry). It could be totally unrelated, but perhaps if we all unite in our fatty-ness we can bring this country's overwhelming obesity rate down, one tenth of a percent at a time. And then we can be on Oprah and she will give us lots of free things to help us in our quest. Ahhh...its always good to have goals.
This morning's workout went well enough, although I spent more time laughing than exercising. My sister showed up this morning to join me (she had been ill, which is why she hasn't appeared in the past two or so weeks). I managed to get through my 40 minutes without interruption (and yes, Mr. Tarrantino worked out next to me again) and then my sister and I decided to play with the free weights. Lindsey (my sis' name for those of you who haven't had the amazing fortune to meet/know her) proceeded to show me an exercise she saw Jessica Simpson do, and hey, she's hot, so it must be good. I tried that for a little while, grew bored after maybe 5 reps and started doing an assortment of moves that may or may not have done a thing to help me. We realized that when it comes to free weights, we were out of luck without expert help (Clappy where are you when we need you?!) so we moved on to something else. I probably spent a good five minutes watching and laughing as Linds tried to figure out some machine that works the booty (Her: "This doesn't seem very hard." Me: "Perhaps you should put weights on it" Her: "Ohhhhhhhhh") Not that I would have been able to figure it out either.
We did a few more familiar exercises - side bends, inner and outer thigh press, and then I introduced Linds to the machine that is part of my initial steps toward the elimination of, yes, the elusive back fat. The lat pull down. I went first as Linds counted off 10 reps at a time, 3 sets. The extra challenge was trying not to laugh when she pretended to be my trainer.
"1, 2, 3, c'mon let's go, 4, 5, 6, 7, just two more to go....wait...I'M NOT GOOD AT MATH, 9, 10."
Then it was my turn to play trainer. Since Linds was unfamilar with this exercise, at the end of the second set she got up to leave. So I did the trainer yell.
"Don't get up. C'MON. ONE MORE SET. DO IT!"
She did make it through the third set successfully. Since this morning I have received an IM updating me on the newfound pains as a result.
Having a partner to work out with, while distracting at times, is also a great way to forget that you are inflicting pain on yourself at an ungodly hour.
Sidenote: Someone this morning mentioned that they didn't see how I was doing 40 minutes on the elliptical. Don't be discouraged if that seems impossible to you right now. Just a very short time ago, I literally though I was going to pass out/die after being on one of those elliptical/cross trainer machines for three minutes. THREE MINUTES. It takes time to build yourself up to 40 minutes. And it still hurts and is tiring, but I don't feel like I am going to die or fall off of the machine. If you are just starting out - don't give up. I am unfit and a weakling, so if I can manage to get past 3 minutes, so can you. :)
Listening to: Best Imitation of Myself by Ben Folds Five (awesome song)
Current Mood: Happy to be working from home today
"ok guys, reading amber's blog has moved me to go back to the gym. i thought i had no time, but the gym opens @ 6:00, so i figured if amber can do it, i can do it. so this morning i went into the gym @ 6:00, and i'm gonna try to keep it up...we'll see..."
Is this possible? In my quest for a flatter stomach, guns, and firm buttocks am I in fact, aiding others?
An old friend from high school has started a similar initiative (Feb 28th entry). It could be totally unrelated, but perhaps if we all unite in our fatty-ness we can bring this country's overwhelming obesity rate down, one tenth of a percent at a time. And then we can be on Oprah and she will give us lots of free things to help us in our quest. Ahhh...its always good to have goals.
This morning's workout went well enough, although I spent more time laughing than exercising. My sister showed up this morning to join me (she had been ill, which is why she hasn't appeared in the past two or so weeks). I managed to get through my 40 minutes without interruption (and yes, Mr. Tarrantino worked out next to me again) and then my sister and I decided to play with the free weights. Lindsey (my sis' name for those of you who haven't had the amazing fortune to meet/know her) proceeded to show me an exercise she saw Jessica Simpson do, and hey, she's hot, so it must be good. I tried that for a little while, grew bored after maybe 5 reps and started doing an assortment of moves that may or may not have done a thing to help me. We realized that when it comes to free weights, we were out of luck without expert help (Clappy where are you when we need you?!) so we moved on to something else. I probably spent a good five minutes watching and laughing as Linds tried to figure out some machine that works the booty (Her: "This doesn't seem very hard." Me: "Perhaps you should put weights on it" Her: "Ohhhhhhhhh") Not that I would have been able to figure it out either.
We did a few more familiar exercises - side bends, inner and outer thigh press, and then I introduced Linds to the machine that is part of my initial steps toward the elimination of, yes, the elusive back fat. The lat pull down. I went first as Linds counted off 10 reps at a time, 3 sets. The extra challenge was trying not to laugh when she pretended to be my trainer.
"1, 2, 3, c'mon let's go, 4, 5, 6, 7, just two more to go....wait...I'M NOT GOOD AT MATH, 9, 10."
Then it was my turn to play trainer. Since Linds was unfamilar with this exercise, at the end of the second set she got up to leave. So I did the trainer yell.
"Don't get up. C'MON. ONE MORE SET. DO IT!"
She did make it through the third set successfully. Since this morning I have received an IM updating me on the newfound pains as a result.
Having a partner to work out with, while distracting at times, is also a great way to forget that you are inflicting pain on yourself at an ungodly hour.
Sidenote: Someone this morning mentioned that they didn't see how I was doing 40 minutes on the elliptical. Don't be discouraged if that seems impossible to you right now. Just a very short time ago, I literally though I was going to pass out/die after being on one of those elliptical/cross trainer machines for three minutes. THREE MINUTES. It takes time to build yourself up to 40 minutes. And it still hurts and is tiring, but I don't feel like I am going to die or fall off of the machine. If you are just starting out - don't give up. I am unfit and a weakling, so if I can manage to get past 3 minutes, so can you. :)
Listening to: Best Imitation of Myself by Ben Folds Five (awesome song)
Current Mood: Happy to be working from home today
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Celebrity Encounters
Yet another morning at the gym. I have managed to make it every morning, not counting the weekend. Still feeling pretty good about it. I actually felt worse this weekend not going. Is this the end of sleeping in?! *gasp*
I started to feel the burn about, oh, say, EIGHT minutes into my workout. Not good. I have been trying for 40 minutes lately. Eight is very far from forty. So I tried everything....singing along to songs in my head, mentally planning out my year, and giving out more nicknames (Silicon Valley - a woman with, well, you know...let's just say they don't move like that when I do jumping jacks...and Tai Chi, an older gentleman who's stretching routine looks vaguely like Tai Chi, which is rather entertaining to watch.) Again, it came down to just trying to work through it. Today I was given a little extra help.
About 25 minutes in, one of the trainers came over and decided to give me a pep talk. I am not sure how in pain I must have been looking to merit this motivational speech, but it was actually nice, as it drew my attention away from the pain.
The other distraction that carried me the rest of the way was Quentin Tarrantino. Briefly mentioned before, Quentin is one of the regulars in the early morning. The reason for his nickname is pretty obvious. Now I haven't been working out at the gym long enough to know if there is any kind of unspoken etiquette about choosing a machine to do your cardio workout. For example, when I walk in, its not too crowded, so I never choose a machine that is right next to another occupied one. I usually try to be far away from any other people, because I think that people enjoy having space when they are a sweaty heaving mess. Kind of like those rules guys have about picking a urinal. So to the men, when there are say, 4 urinals and the two on either end are occupied, how do you decide which one to use? (I can hear some of you saying "you wait until one of the guys leave" but in reality I am not talking about urinals, so waiting would not be an option in this case) This is the choice that Quentin had to make. I was on one machine, then there were two empty ones, and then Bertha. (Bertha is a large woman who works out hard when she is there - I always thought Bertha was a hard working name. Not like Bessie. Bessie is sweet, but she just tells stories in her rocking chair and occasionally whips up a mean sweet potato pie. But I digress....) So Quentin chose the machine next to me.
I am not much of a conversational person when I am working out. I am gross, out of breath, and just trying to get past the next five minutes. Plus, I usually have headphones blaring in my ears (sidepoint: why aren't they called earphones? I stick them in my ears....) , so I look inaccessible. During this workout I had to remove one as someone I actually know from outside of the gym approached me to say hello. We had a quick discussion about how early I get to the gym, and how it helps my work schedule, as I can now come in earlier, and leave earlier. It was just after this conversation that one of the trainers gave me my pep talk. So now one ear was open and vulnerable to attack.
"So what do you do that you can take off of work early?"
Quentin was speaking to me.
"Ummm...I am an Executive/Personal Assistant, and my boss doesn't usually need me around until five, so as long as I get my eight hours in he doesn't care how I do it."
We continued to converse about what we did (Quentin is a Nuclear Medicine Technologist), the advantage of being in a medical field that doesn't involve wiping anyone's bottom, the plight of the underpaid nurse, and how we were enjoying our early morning workout routine.
Mr. Tarrantino's real name is Jason. He shook my hand as he got off the machine and left to get ready for work.
I looked down at the time on my machine to see that our conversation had pushed me past the 40 minute mark. Awesome! On a morning when I really thought I would never get past 10 minutes, I was quite pleased.
I haven't weighed myself yet this week, as I don't want to obsess on my weight as a sole indicator of progress. I think that maybe I will do a weigh in at the end of the week. Stay tuned for that.
Are any of you trying something new in your fitness/diet routine?
Listening to: Softly by Lamb (if you don't know Lamb and like music to just chill to, find them)
I started to feel the burn about, oh, say, EIGHT minutes into my workout. Not good. I have been trying for 40 minutes lately. Eight is very far from forty. So I tried everything....singing along to songs in my head, mentally planning out my year, and giving out more nicknames (Silicon Valley - a woman with, well, you know...let's just say they don't move like that when I do jumping jacks...and Tai Chi, an older gentleman who's stretching routine looks vaguely like Tai Chi, which is rather entertaining to watch.) Again, it came down to just trying to work through it. Today I was given a little extra help.
About 25 minutes in, one of the trainers came over and decided to give me a pep talk. I am not sure how in pain I must have been looking to merit this motivational speech, but it was actually nice, as it drew my attention away from the pain.
The other distraction that carried me the rest of the way was Quentin Tarrantino. Briefly mentioned before, Quentin is one of the regulars in the early morning. The reason for his nickname is pretty obvious. Now I haven't been working out at the gym long enough to know if there is any kind of unspoken etiquette about choosing a machine to do your cardio workout. For example, when I walk in, its not too crowded, so I never choose a machine that is right next to another occupied one. I usually try to be far away from any other people, because I think that people enjoy having space when they are a sweaty heaving mess. Kind of like those rules guys have about picking a urinal. So to the men, when there are say, 4 urinals and the two on either end are occupied, how do you decide which one to use? (I can hear some of you saying "you wait until one of the guys leave" but in reality I am not talking about urinals, so waiting would not be an option in this case) This is the choice that Quentin had to make. I was on one machine, then there were two empty ones, and then Bertha. (Bertha is a large woman who works out hard when she is there - I always thought Bertha was a hard working name. Not like Bessie. Bessie is sweet, but she just tells stories in her rocking chair and occasionally whips up a mean sweet potato pie. But I digress....) So Quentin chose the machine next to me.
I am not much of a conversational person when I am working out. I am gross, out of breath, and just trying to get past the next five minutes. Plus, I usually have headphones blaring in my ears (sidepoint: why aren't they called earphones? I stick them in my ears....) , so I look inaccessible. During this workout I had to remove one as someone I actually know from outside of the gym approached me to say hello. We had a quick discussion about how early I get to the gym, and how it helps my work schedule, as I can now come in earlier, and leave earlier. It was just after this conversation that one of the trainers gave me my pep talk. So now one ear was open and vulnerable to attack.
"So what do you do that you can take off of work early?"
Quentin was speaking to me.
"Ummm...I am an Executive/Personal Assistant, and my boss doesn't usually need me around until five, so as long as I get my eight hours in he doesn't care how I do it."
We continued to converse about what we did (Quentin is a Nuclear Medicine Technologist), the advantage of being in a medical field that doesn't involve wiping anyone's bottom, the plight of the underpaid nurse, and how we were enjoying our early morning workout routine.
Mr. Tarrantino's real name is Jason. He shook my hand as he got off the machine and left to get ready for work.
I looked down at the time on my machine to see that our conversation had pushed me past the 40 minute mark. Awesome! On a morning when I really thought I would never get past 10 minutes, I was quite pleased.
I haven't weighed myself yet this week, as I don't want to obsess on my weight as a sole indicator of progress. I think that maybe I will do a weigh in at the end of the week. Stay tuned for that.
Are any of you trying something new in your fitness/diet routine?
Listening to: Softly by Lamb (if you don't know Lamb and like music to just chill to, find them)
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