Woo hoo!!! I did it!!
I managed to change my blogger template from a 2 column format to a 3 column. That one programming credit I was forced to take in college finally came in handy. I was certain that course was a waste of time and money. Who knew?
I may add some color later but frankly it was giving me a headache, so I can only image what you all thought.
Personally, I think this may be easier to read. But if any one has any suggestions please let me know.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
The Best Laid Plans
Last night I had a plan. It went something like this:
1. Work on HTML code to make blog 3 column (Thanks Tova for the link.)
2. Write up Awkward Post and set to auto post today (Tuesday)
3. Write a quick thank you to all of my new followers. Thank You, Thank you. (I'll be more verbose in a post later tonight.)
As you can see by tuning in today; none of this happened.
Instead, the BF and I went to an All Star Little League game being played in the city. He knew a bunch of the kids that were playing so it was fun. However, it lasted 10 innings (regular little league games are 6 innings) which equaled 3-1/2 hours. It was a complete nail-biter. We won with an incredible steal from third base to home.
The other team played an awesome game as well, we just happened to play a smidgen better.
By the time the BF and I got home (10pm) and made a gourmet dinner of left over pizza and Chinese take out (no really, that's what we had) I just couldn't bring myself to tackle the above list.
Tonight, the BF has plans, so I plan on tackling my blog to do list. Tune in tomorrow for hopefully plenty of new stuff to read and a whole new look.
Cross you fingers folks! I'm off to find another cup of coffee.
1. Work on HTML code to make blog 3 column (Thanks Tova for the link.)
2. Write up Awkward Post and set to auto post today (Tuesday)
3. Write a quick thank you to all of my new followers. Thank You, Thank you. (I'll be more verbose in a post later tonight.)
As you can see by tuning in today; none of this happened.
Instead, the BF and I went to an All Star Little League game being played in the city. He knew a bunch of the kids that were playing so it was fun. However, it lasted 10 innings (regular little league games are 6 innings) which equaled 3-1/2 hours. It was a complete nail-biter. We won with an incredible steal from third base to home.
The other team played an awesome game as well, we just happened to play a smidgen better.
By the time the BF and I got home (10pm) and made a gourmet dinner of left over pizza and Chinese take out (no really, that's what we had) I just couldn't bring myself to tackle the above list.
Tonight, the BF has plans, so I plan on tackling my blog to do list. Tune in tomorrow for hopefully plenty of new stuff to read and a whole new look.
Cross you fingers folks! I'm off to find another cup of coffee.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Profile - Update
I've come to the conclusion that I don't like the Blogger Profile page. Therefore, this is my attempt to tell you a little more about who I am.
I always find it difficult to tell people about myself, it's not that I don't want to, it's just that I draw a complete blank. Seriously, a complete blank, I'm having a hard time thinking of things right now.
So, we'll start with the simple things in the form of one of my beloved lists:
1. I'm divorced with one Awesome Kid, who totally gets my sarcastic sense of humor and gives it right back. We've just embarked on the teenage years.
2. I live with the World's Best Boyfriend. No really he is. He even does the laundry. ALL THE TIME! Yeah, I know! - He must be from another planet.
3. I'm currently attempting Weight Watchers (11 pounds gone so far.)
4. Shoes are one of my passions. As well as Coach handbags. The Kid openly mocks me for this one since I can feel the gravitational pull of the Coach store whenever we're in the mall.
5. I'm Italian so therefore, I love to cook and, duh, eat. (Thanks Gram for all of those patient lessons, I was paying attention I swear.)
6. I can not bake.
7. I'm a novice at sewing and quilting, I still sew on the 1920 Singer that I inherited. Yep, it still works! (Thanks again for the lessons Gram.)
8. I love Sci-Fi and Action movies - thank god I had a son. We've seen the extended version of the Lord of Rings about 62,000,000 times. (I had a dream when I was pregnant that I was in the hospital, I had just had the baby and the nurse told me it was a girl. I told her to take it back it wasn't mine. Yeah, I wanted a boy that bad.)
9. Barnes & Noble and the Public Library are two of my absolute fav places. I have a bagillion books. I just finished reading Once Dead, Twice Shy by Kim Harrision 's and I'm working on The Looking Glass Wars - Seeing Redd by Frank Beddor. It's not uncommon for me to read more than one book at a time.
10. I think milk is disgusting and I don't make my kid drink it. I blame this mostly on my brother who was allergic to milk when we were younger; we only had powdered milk in the house. Blech! I also don't like the way it clings. I know, I'm a freak. Maybe that makes me a bad parent but the kid grows pretty damn well, and I haven't been scolded by the doctor so I'm gonna go with it.
11. I'm slowly morphing into my mother. I've started using words like 'dilly-dally' (Yeah, I actually told the Kid and I quote 'Don't dilly-dally on the way to school or you'll be late.' Yup - you should've seen the look I got for that one. ), I lecture about clothes strewn about his bedroom floor and dishes put in the sink not the dishwasher. Gah!
12. I loathe cleaning but most especially I HATE MOPPING. My mother single handedly keeps both Lysol and Clorox in business. I on the other hand clean only when necessary. (Sorry mom I haven't morphed into you that much.)
13. If I didn't have my hair colored every 5 weeks (Christina my hairdresser rocks!) I would have a gray streak on the right side of my head just like Rogue in the X-Men. I'm undecided as to whether or not I should have the 'streak' put in. We'll see.
14. I can be ready to travel in 20 minutes. No, really I can, I've had a lot of practice. My favorite vacation is Disney World. The BF and I are going this October sans Kid for the EPCOT Food & Wine Festival. I'm salivating at the thought.
15. I can wear the battery out in the TV remote (my dad can attest to this one).
16. I'm easily bored and can have the attention span of a fruit bat when I'm not interested in something.
Well, people I think I'm going to leave it at 16 for today. I'm sure I'll come up with others for a future post but ta ta for now. The sun is out and I'm going to go enjoy it.
I always find it difficult to tell people about myself, it's not that I don't want to, it's just that I draw a complete blank. Seriously, a complete blank, I'm having a hard time thinking of things right now.
So, we'll start with the simple things in the form of one of my beloved lists:
1. I'm divorced with one Awesome Kid, who totally gets my sarcastic sense of humor and gives it right back. We've just embarked on the teenage years.
2. I live with the World's Best Boyfriend. No really he is. He even does the laundry. ALL THE TIME! Yeah, I know! - He must be from another planet.
3. I'm currently attempting Weight Watchers (11 pounds gone so far.)
4. Shoes are one of my passions. As well as Coach handbags. The Kid openly mocks me for this one since I can feel the gravitational pull of the Coach store whenever we're in the mall.
5. I'm Italian so therefore, I love to cook and, duh, eat. (Thanks Gram for all of those patient lessons, I was paying attention I swear.)
6. I can not bake.
7. I'm a novice at sewing and quilting, I still sew on the 1920 Singer that I inherited. Yep, it still works! (Thanks again for the lessons Gram.)
8. I love Sci-Fi and Action movies - thank god I had a son. We've seen the extended version of the Lord of Rings about 62,000,000 times. (I had a dream when I was pregnant that I was in the hospital, I had just had the baby and the nurse told me it was a girl. I told her to take it back it wasn't mine. Yeah, I wanted a boy that bad.)
9. Barnes & Noble and the Public Library are two of my absolute fav places. I have a bagillion books. I just finished reading Once Dead, Twice Shy by Kim Harrision 's and I'm working on The Looking Glass Wars - Seeing Redd by Frank Beddor. It's not uncommon for me to read more than one book at a time.
10. I think milk is disgusting and I don't make my kid drink it. I blame this mostly on my brother who was allergic to milk when we were younger; we only had powdered milk in the house. Blech! I also don't like the way it clings. I know, I'm a freak. Maybe that makes me a bad parent but the kid grows pretty damn well, and I haven't been scolded by the doctor so I'm gonna go with it.
11. I'm slowly morphing into my mother. I've started using words like 'dilly-dally' (Yeah, I actually told the Kid and I quote 'Don't dilly-dally on the way to school or you'll be late.' Yup - you should've seen the look I got for that one. ), I lecture about clothes strewn about his bedroom floor and dishes put in the sink not the dishwasher. Gah!
12. I loathe cleaning but most especially I HATE MOPPING. My mother single handedly keeps both Lysol and Clorox in business. I on the other hand clean only when necessary. (Sorry mom I haven't morphed into you that much.)
13. If I didn't have my hair colored every 5 weeks (Christina my hairdresser rocks!) I would have a gray streak on the right side of my head just like Rogue in the X-Men. I'm undecided as to whether or not I should have the 'streak' put in. We'll see.
14. I can be ready to travel in 20 minutes. No, really I can, I've had a lot of practice. My favorite vacation is Disney World. The BF and I are going this October sans Kid for the EPCOT Food & Wine Festival. I'm salivating at the thought.
15. I can wear the battery out in the TV remote (my dad can attest to this one).
16. I'm easily bored and can have the attention span of a fruit bat when I'm not interested in something.
Well, people I think I'm going to leave it at 16 for today. I'm sure I'll come up with others for a future post but ta ta for now. The sun is out and I'm going to go enjoy it.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Book Covers
I admit it. I judge a book by its cover. Literally.
On the lunch hours that I can not be found in DSW I can be found roaming the isles in Barnes and Noble. I have been a Barnes and Noble card member for as long as I can remember. My card is worn and peeling on the edges, scratched on the front and has been scanned so many times I can't believe it still works.
I can pick up and put down the same book a million times before I buy it. Case in point, it took me three years to buy Twilight. I could have made a pilgrimage to Mecca on foot with the number of times I've walked around B&N with that book in my hand, only to put it back because the cover just didn't speak to me. Once I did purchase it, I not only loved it, but I read the first three books in the series in four days. I've been doing this same dance with The Host by Stephenie Meyer.
I still haven't bought it.
Usually when I find something that I like the cover art says something to me about the story. If the artwork looks cheesy most likely I'm going to think the story is cheesy. This brings me to my recent jaunt to Tarjhay (Target).
While I was on a quest to find my beloved Method laundry detergent in sweetpea scent I came across Season One of True Blood. (I know these are DVD's but I have a point, really I do.) Now I was intrigued because my brother, who has HBO and has been watching this show from the beginning, swears it's awesome. He usually goes for shows like Pinks - Drag Racing and Nascar but it was on sale for $25.99 (down from $49.95) so I figured I'd give it a try.
I actually had some free time that evening, so I break open the package and start reading the insert about the show. As I'm reading I recognize the name of one of the main characters, Sookie Stackhouse. Why do I know that name? I say to myself.
Light bulb clicks on!
Charlene Harris is the author of The Sookie Stackhouse a.k.a. The Southern Vampires Series.
I have picked up, put down, read, reread, and read again the synopsis of all of her books and to be quite honest, the book covers look like a 6th grader drew them. Maybe they did, I don't know for sure I didn't do too much research for this post. But needless to say I have never bought one of her books. Vampires should be sexy and mysterious, not happily floating through the air like a cross between the beginning of Bewitched and I Dream of Genie.
This brings me to my point. Apparently the show True Blood is based on this series written by Charlene Harris. I LOVE the show True Blood. It's everything that you would expect, sexy, fast moving, slightly violent, cliff hanging - it keeps you coming back for more.
I never got that sense from reading the book jackets. Mostly because the covers are a complete turn off.
BBUUUUTTTT.
I think I have humbly learned my lesson and I'm going to give the books a try.
On the lunch hours that I can not be found in DSW I can be found roaming the isles in Barnes and Noble. I have been a Barnes and Noble card member for as long as I can remember. My card is worn and peeling on the edges, scratched on the front and has been scanned so many times I can't believe it still works.
I can pick up and put down the same book a million times before I buy it. Case in point, it took me three years to buy Twilight. I could have made a pilgrimage to Mecca on foot with the number of times I've walked around B&N with that book in my hand, only to put it back because the cover just didn't speak to me. Once I did purchase it, I not only loved it, but I read the first three books in the series in four days. I've been doing this same dance with The Host by Stephenie Meyer.
I still haven't bought it.
Usually when I find something that I like the cover art says something to me about the story. If the artwork looks cheesy most likely I'm going to think the story is cheesy. This brings me to my recent jaunt to Tarjhay (Target).
While I was on a quest to find my beloved Method laundry detergent in sweetpea scent I came across Season One of True Blood. (I know these are DVD's but I have a point, really I do.) Now I was intrigued because my brother, who has HBO and has been watching this show from the beginning, swears it's awesome. He usually goes for shows like Pinks - Drag Racing and Nascar but it was on sale for $25.99 (down from $49.95) so I figured I'd give it a try.
I actually had some free time that evening, so I break open the package and start reading the insert about the show. As I'm reading I recognize the name of one of the main characters, Sookie Stackhouse. Why do I know that name? I say to myself.
Light bulb clicks on!
Charlene Harris is the author of The Sookie Stackhouse a.k.a. The Southern Vampires Series.
I have picked up, put down, read, reread, and read again the synopsis of all of her books and to be quite honest, the book covers look like a 6th grader drew them. Maybe they did, I don't know for sure I didn't do too much research for this post. But needless to say I have never bought one of her books. Vampires should be sexy and mysterious, not happily floating through the air like a cross between the beginning of Bewitched and I Dream of Genie.
This brings me to my point. Apparently the show True Blood is based on this series written by Charlene Harris. I LOVE the show True Blood. It's everything that you would expect, sexy, fast moving, slightly violent, cliff hanging - it keeps you coming back for more.
I never got that sense from reading the book jackets. Mostly because the covers are a complete turn off.
BBUUUUTTTT.
I think I have humbly learned my lesson and I'm going to give the books a try.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Shameful Acts
Oh I did a bad thing. A really, really bad thing. At this moment I'm hanging my head in parental shame because, ugh I don't even think I can say it outloud....
(Exhales and says in one long breath) NotonlydidIbuyitIletmykideatkentuckyfriedchicken. Gulp.
Of all the fast food grossness in the world he decides that this is the crap (and I use term quite loosely because I can think of many other things to say) he wants to get as a 'treat'.
In my oh so great parental wisdom I tell him that he can have KFC if he brings home 3 A's (a test, a quiz, a major homework assignment, etc.) from school. Gym, band and lunch don't count. Don't get me wrong he's not a bad student but 'Your son is not applying himself to his fullest potential' is a common comment on his report card. (Sound familiar mom?)
I felt rather confident that I wouldn't have to come through on my promise. There was no way that he was going to apply himself for fried freakin' chicken. So, we made this 'agreement' and I promptly forgot about it. So imagine my surprise when the last week of school comes around and he whips out a History test, an English assignment and something else that I've blocked out of my mind all containing some form of an 'A'.
Oh you must be joking! I even checked the dates on the assignments to see if they were from the last quarter - they were. GGGaaahhhh!!!! You know what this means. I now have to buy KFC.
Christ - I am the organic goddess. I practically live at Trader Joes and Whole Foods. I lecture my parents on preservatives, phosphates, the evils of BHT and sodium nitrate. How can he do this to me?!
To quote my kid "Mom, even the crap I eat is organic."
I suppose he's right - I don't think there are too many other kids taking cucumber hummus wraps and soy crisps to school for lunch. The hummus wrap was his idea. I found the BBQ soy crisps all on my own.
So tonight we sat around the kitchen island with *grinding teeth together* extra crispy chicken, powdered mashed potates w/gravy, macaroni and cheese, coleslaw and biscuits.
I can feel my arteries clogging as I type.
(Exhales and says in one long breath) NotonlydidIbuyitIletmykideatkentuckyfriedchicken. Gulp.
Of all the fast food grossness in the world he decides that this is the crap (and I use term quite loosely because I can think of many other things to say) he wants to get as a 'treat'.
In my oh so great parental wisdom I tell him that he can have KFC if he brings home 3 A's (a test, a quiz, a major homework assignment, etc.) from school. Gym, band and lunch don't count. Don't get me wrong he's not a bad student but 'Your son is not applying himself to his fullest potential' is a common comment on his report card. (Sound familiar mom?)
I felt rather confident that I wouldn't have to come through on my promise. There was no way that he was going to apply himself for fried freakin' chicken. So, we made this 'agreement' and I promptly forgot about it. So imagine my surprise when the last week of school comes around and he whips out a History test, an English assignment and something else that I've blocked out of my mind all containing some form of an 'A'.
Oh you must be joking! I even checked the dates on the assignments to see if they were from the last quarter - they were. GGGaaahhhh!!!! You know what this means. I now have to buy KFC.
Christ - I am the organic goddess. I practically live at Trader Joes and Whole Foods. I lecture my parents on preservatives, phosphates, the evils of BHT and sodium nitrate. How can he do this to me?!
To quote my kid "Mom, even the crap I eat is organic."
I suppose he's right - I don't think there are too many other kids taking cucumber hummus wraps and soy crisps to school for lunch. The hummus wrap was his idea. I found the BBQ soy crisps all on my own.
So tonight we sat around the kitchen island with *grinding teeth together* extra crispy chicken, powdered mashed potates w/gravy, macaroni and cheese, coleslaw and biscuits.
I can feel my arteries clogging as I type.
Awkward Parent Moment
Ah Tova you so bring out all of my surpressed awkward moments. Everyone please check out Tova's Totally Awkward Tuesdays for a chuckle today.
This one comes from the parent vault. Anyone who has ever had their kid express (loudly) the entire process of how babies are made in the grocery check out line can relate to my Totally Awkward Moment.
It was a gorgeous day so my now ex and I decided we would take the kid to the zoo. There's a really nice one about 45 minutes from where we lived. My son was probably 4 years old, small enough to still ride in a stroller but big enough to walk part of the zoo.
The kid had an unholy obsession with polar bears that we could not explain. He loved them and the zoo had 2 of them. It was all he could talk about on the ride there. He didn't care about the giraffes or the monkeys, nope just the po' bears mama. He was adament about it.
Okey dokey. Polar Bears it is then.
So we park, we pay to get into the zoo, we consult the map on the quickest route to the Po' Bears and we're off. Thankfully we had convinced the kid that it would be faster if he rode in the stroller.
Ok time to go! We couldn't get to the giraffes fast enough. Thank god they don't have paws.
This one comes from the parent vault. Anyone who has ever had their kid express (loudly) the entire process of how babies are made in the grocery check out line can relate to my Totally Awkward Moment.
It was a gorgeous day so my now ex and I decided we would take the kid to the zoo. There's a really nice one about 45 minutes from where we lived. My son was probably 4 years old, small enough to still ride in a stroller but big enough to walk part of the zoo.
The kid had an unholy obsession with polar bears that we could not explain. He loved them and the zoo had 2 of them. It was all he could talk about on the ride there. He didn't care about the giraffes or the monkeys, nope just the po' bears mama. He was adament about it.
Okey dokey. Polar Bears it is then.
So we park, we pay to get into the zoo, we consult the map on the quickest route to the Po' Bears and we're off. Thankfully we had convinced the kid that it would be faster if he rode in the stroller.
Well as you can imagine nice day = everyone and their 10 closest friends were at the zoo so there was a hhuuuggeeee crowd at the polar bear enclosure. We're talking 100-150 people easily. But not to fret, dad is somewhat tall so he put the kid on his shoulders and they stood on the large wooden box around one of the trees. You know, the huge planter boxes.
Problem solved, the kid could see.
Now from where I'm standing I can't see the polar bear in the pool but there is one sitting high up on the rocks, slouching, back legs straight out, scratching his stomache. Picture Homer Simpson on the couch crossed with Al Bundy.
Well at this exact moment, the kid sees him too only he yells (YELLS!) 'Mama, the po' bear's scratchin' his wee wee!'
Me in a hushed tone and beet red because 100 people are now looking at us: No he's not, he's scratching his stomache.
Him - (if it's at all possible) louder than before: 'No, mama he's scratchin' his wee wee!
Problem solved, the kid could see.
Now from where I'm standing I can't see the polar bear in the pool but there is one sitting high up on the rocks, slouching, back legs straight out, scratching his stomache. Picture Homer Simpson on the couch crossed with Al Bundy.
Well at this exact moment, the kid sees him too only he yells (YELLS!) 'Mama, the po' bear's scratchin' his wee wee!'
Me in a hushed tone and beet red because 100 people are now looking at us: No he's not, he's scratching his stomache.
Him - (if it's at all possible) louder than before: 'No, mama he's scratchin' his wee wee!
Ok time to go! We couldn't get to the giraffes fast enough. Thank god they don't have paws.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Puppy Pics - Finally
Hooper
Here I am - my first weekend in my new home.
I like the kitchen rug.
This is my kennel a.k.a my prison.
Did I mention I hate it?
This is my Baby - I llluuurrrvvvveee him.
See my Baby? I lurve my baby.
See my Baby? I lurve my baby.
Grrrrr.......get the Baby!
Lights out.
Pooch - Update
Morning everyone....I have a quick pooch update but no pics yet. I need for the Boyfriend to show me how to get the pics off of his super cool (read: really expensive with lots of buttons) camera.
Hooper is doing good. We've only had one accident so far, which I have to say was mostly my fault. I was stumbling around at 2am looking for my flip flops. He apparently thought I was taking too long. Oops, we won't let that happen again.
He is a firm believer that the kennel is the doggie equivalent to Gitmo. We're still working on that, his first trip inside resulted in howling. Yeah, who knew such a little thing could make so much noise. He's made it up to an hour inside at night, not too bad. He mostly likes to sleep on his towel next to the bed.
He thinks his red ball is awesome! It was hilarious when he made it squeak. He came to a skidding halt in the dining room and looked around for the noise. Once he figured out it was him all we heard for 5 minutes was...squeak, squeak, sqqquuueeaakkkkkiiiee, squeak, squeak, squeak.
I could go on and on but I'll put up a complete post tonight.
Hooper is doing good. We've only had one accident so far, which I have to say was mostly my fault. I was stumbling around at 2am looking for my flip flops. He apparently thought I was taking too long. Oops, we won't let that happen again.
He is a firm believer that the kennel is the doggie equivalent to Gitmo. We're still working on that, his first trip inside resulted in howling. Yeah, who knew such a little thing could make so much noise. He's made it up to an hour inside at night, not too bad. He mostly likes to sleep on his towel next to the bed.
He thinks his red ball is awesome! It was hilarious when he made it squeak. He came to a skidding halt in the dining room and looked around for the noise. Once he figured out it was him all we heard for 5 minutes was...squeak, squeak, sqqquuueeaakkkkkiiiee, squeak, squeak, squeak.
I could go on and on but I'll put up a complete post tonight.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Project Puppy - The Beginning
Project Puppy begins in 6 1/2 hours.
How am I supposed to concentrate? Really, I just can't.
The BF just texted me with 'You get the first 2am pee run! Called it! Bah hah ha ha ha.' That is soooo cheating. He could at least wait until we're in the truck, on our way there, to call it.
I'm going to try an focus on work. I really do have a ton to do today but it's just not coming together.
How am I supposed to concentrate? Really, I just can't.
The BF just texted me with 'You get the first 2am pee run! Called it! Bah hah ha ha ha.' That is soooo cheating. He could at least wait until we're in the truck, on our way there, to call it.
I'm going to try an focus on work. I really do have a ton to do today but it's just not coming together.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Ready Set...Run In Three Different Directions
Starting tonight I have more things to do in the next three days than most people usually do in a week.
The Kid's baseball team has made it to the playoffs - I am giddy with happiness. They worked so hard. The down side to this is that I have spent more time in the past 6 months at the ball field than I have in my apartment. I also now know more about baseball than I ever thought possible. I have become one of 'Those Parents'. I don't exactly yell at the umpire but I mumble scathingly under my breathe every time there's a questionable call. Or what I would consider a questionable call.
During the last game the Kid was called out because his foot was out of the box. What?! You can't even see the damn box after the second inning, as it's made out of chalk! Even the Boyfriend thought that was excessive. And since he has 35 years of baseball experience and I have 8 months, I felt justified in my outrage. But I digress.
Project Puppy begins Friday night. (Again almost shaking with glee - at times I can resemble a chihuahua that has to pee.) After work we will drive through almost 2 states to pick him up and bring him home. I, of course, will be giddy the whole trip.
Saturday brings another round of baseball (weather permitting). I almost hope it rains because the Boyfriend and I are supposed to drive (2 hours) to his father's new summer place to help open it up and check on any maintenance that needs to be done. This would be our first road trip with the pooch. The poor thing will probably think we live in the truck because all we do is drive. If it does not rain I will be going to baseball, the Boyfriend will be helping his dad and we will argue over who gets to keep the pooch for the day.
Saturday night the BF and I plan on installing the new internet cable that we've signed up for. Seriously. How hard can it be? Yeah I say that now but I refuse to pay $50 to have the cable man show up at my apartment for 20 minutes. I can read and follow directions. The girl from the cable company assured me that if I could download a song from iTunes I could handle this. Well, the BF is an Electrician and I have a degree in Engineering AND I can use iTunes. In case of emergency I also have a kid under the age of 15 to help us. Kids today could run a nuclear missile silo with the computer knowledge they possess. I feel confident we can get this done. Mostly.
Sunday is Father's Day and like the good daughter that I am I will be driving to my parents house to have dinner and pay homage for all of the crap I put my dad through in my younger years (that would include my 20's by the way). The Kid will be spending the day with his dad and the BF will be spending the day with his AND he gets the pooch. My parents have a cat. The poor thing would probably have a stroke if there was a dog in the house.
I think the shoe choice for the next few days will be sneakers, as I sprint from one thing to the next.
The Kid's baseball team has made it to the playoffs - I am giddy with happiness. They worked so hard. The down side to this is that I have spent more time in the past 6 months at the ball field than I have in my apartment. I also now know more about baseball than I ever thought possible. I have become one of 'Those Parents'. I don't exactly yell at the umpire but I mumble scathingly under my breathe every time there's a questionable call. Or what I would consider a questionable call.
During the last game the Kid was called out because his foot was out of the box. What?! You can't even see the damn box after the second inning, as it's made out of chalk! Even the Boyfriend thought that was excessive. And since he has 35 years of baseball experience and I have 8 months, I felt justified in my outrage. But I digress.
Project Puppy begins Friday night. (Again almost shaking with glee - at times I can resemble a chihuahua that has to pee.) After work we will drive through almost 2 states to pick him up and bring him home. I, of course, will be giddy the whole trip.
Saturday brings another round of baseball (weather permitting). I almost hope it rains because the Boyfriend and I are supposed to drive (2 hours) to his father's new summer place to help open it up and check on any maintenance that needs to be done. This would be our first road trip with the pooch. The poor thing will probably think we live in the truck because all we do is drive. If it does not rain I will be going to baseball, the Boyfriend will be helping his dad and we will argue over who gets to keep the pooch for the day.
Saturday night the BF and I plan on installing the new internet cable that we've signed up for. Seriously. How hard can it be? Yeah I say that now but I refuse to pay $50 to have the cable man show up at my apartment for 20 minutes. I can read and follow directions. The girl from the cable company assured me that if I could download a song from iTunes I could handle this. Well, the BF is an Electrician and I have a degree in Engineering AND I can use iTunes. In case of emergency I also have a kid under the age of 15 to help us. Kids today could run a nuclear missile silo with the computer knowledge they possess. I feel confident we can get this done. Mostly.
Sunday is Father's Day and like the good daughter that I am I will be driving to my parents house to have dinner and pay homage for all of the crap I put my dad through in my younger years (that would include my 20's by the way). The Kid will be spending the day with his dad and the BF will be spending the day with his AND he gets the pooch. My parents have a cat. The poor thing would probably have a stroke if there was a dog in the house.
I think the shoe choice for the next few days will be sneakers, as I sprint from one thing to the next.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
20 Days and Counting
I'm not sure what I want to talk about today. I have a bunch of thoughts but none of them have come together for a complete post yet. Some days are just like that I guess.
I did want to take a quick moment and thank all of the people that have clicked in to read me. Most especially my 4 followers who tune in to read whatever my lastest blabfest is. I love you best of all. Also, thanks to my mom and the Boyfriend, who are not 'followers' but stalk me on a regular basis and always think I'm hilarious. (I should point out that one of my 5 followers is me but mostly because I like to see how all of the blogger options work.)
It's been 20 days since I started blabbing to the virtual world and I have hope that I'll be insanely poplular someday with oodles of people hanging on my every post, I'll make tons of dough from it and I'll be able to retire at 40. Hey, ya gotta think big right? It could happen. Maybe.
Well, until it does I'll be working on my next post.
I did want to take a quick moment and thank all of the people that have clicked in to read me. Most especially my 4 followers who tune in to read whatever my lastest blabfest is. I love you best of all. Also, thanks to my mom and the Boyfriend, who are not 'followers' but stalk me on a regular basis and always think I'm hilarious. (I should point out that one of my 5 followers is me but mostly because I like to see how all of the blogger options work.)
It's been 20 days since I started blabbing to the virtual world and I have hope that I'll be insanely poplular someday with oodles of people hanging on my every post, I'll make tons of dough from it and I'll be able to retire at 40. Hey, ya gotta think big right? It could happen. Maybe.
Well, until it does I'll be working on my next post.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Awkward Moment
Awkward moments. I try to avoid them, I really do but Tova's Totally Awkward Tuesdays has inspired me to share one of my MOST awkward and humiliating moments with all of you.
(This is one of those times that I love blog anonymity.)
During the summer of 1990 I traveled to the Soviet Union with a group of teenagers, we were all from the same state but not the same high school. I was 17.
I have never seen the Grand Canyon folks but I've stood in the center of Red Square (so cool), seen the inside of Lenin's Tomb (creepy) and been to the base of Mother Russia (awesome).
We were there for a little over 3 weeks and to say that the food was weird was an understatement, we actually took turns each night at dinner sampling the food - I swear they were trying to poison us. Communism was still alive and well and we were Americans.
If the food taster gave the thumbs up, we dug in, if not, we pushed everything around on our plates to avoid a scolding from our chaperones. Once we were released from the dining room we would then all gather in one of our hotel rooms, each with a food item we brought from home and have 'dinner'.
It has been 19 years since this trip and I still can't eat peanut butter.
Based on the hotel/restaurant food we always looked forward to when we were broken up into smaller groups and invited to a local family's home for either lunch or dinner. Let me tell you those women can cook! I ate some kind of gelatin with chicken in it. Oh My Gawd - it was amazing! It was at this particular dinner that the awkward moment occurred.
If we visited a family with a teenage child usually that child spoke English or at least enough for us to communicate. For this trip we required an interpreter. Dinner had gone well, the food was amazing of course. Then it came time to leave...
When it was time for our interpreter to bring us back to our hotel, I asked our hostess if I could use their bathroom before we left. The interpreter listened to me and then turned to her and conveyed my request. She smiled and nodded and gestured to a door in the hallway. I thanked her and went to the door.
Once I was inside, the room couldn't have been more than 6x6 (I can see this in my head like it was yesterday.) Immediately in front of me was a small cabinet with a counter top and to my left was a large claw footed tub. There were pegs on the wall hung with their bathrobes and pajamas and various other clothes.
There was no toilet.
Um, right. Ok. Now what?
Ooookkkkaaayyyy. Maybe they pee in the tub?
I'm not peeing in the tub.
So as I'm standing in the bathroom trying to figure out what to do, I hear....flushing! I think to myself 'You moron - the toilet is in a separate room.'
I leave the 'bathroom' to see someone coming out of the door next to mine. The room with the toilet in it. Ggggrrrr....
Our hostess was nice enough not to say anything but to this day I can only imagine what the hell she thought I was doing in her bathroom.
(This is one of those times that I love blog anonymity.)
During the summer of 1990 I traveled to the Soviet Union with a group of teenagers, we were all from the same state but not the same high school. I was 17.
I have never seen the Grand Canyon folks but I've stood in the center of Red Square (so cool), seen the inside of Lenin's Tomb (creepy) and been to the base of Mother Russia (awesome).
We were there for a little over 3 weeks and to say that the food was weird was an understatement, we actually took turns each night at dinner sampling the food - I swear they were trying to poison us. Communism was still alive and well and we were Americans.
If the food taster gave the thumbs up, we dug in, if not, we pushed everything around on our plates to avoid a scolding from our chaperones. Once we were released from the dining room we would then all gather in one of our hotel rooms, each with a food item we brought from home and have 'dinner'.
It has been 19 years since this trip and I still can't eat peanut butter.
Based on the hotel/restaurant food we always looked forward to when we were broken up into smaller groups and invited to a local family's home for either lunch or dinner. Let me tell you those women can cook! I ate some kind of gelatin with chicken in it. Oh My Gawd - it was amazing! It was at this particular dinner that the awkward moment occurred.
If we visited a family with a teenage child usually that child spoke English or at least enough for us to communicate. For this trip we required an interpreter. Dinner had gone well, the food was amazing of course. Then it came time to leave...
When it was time for our interpreter to bring us back to our hotel, I asked our hostess if I could use their bathroom before we left. The interpreter listened to me and then turned to her and conveyed my request. She smiled and nodded and gestured to a door in the hallway. I thanked her and went to the door.
Once I was inside, the room couldn't have been more than 6x6 (I can see this in my head like it was yesterday.) Immediately in front of me was a small cabinet with a counter top and to my left was a large claw footed tub. There were pegs on the wall hung with their bathrobes and pajamas and various other clothes.
There was no toilet.
Um, right. Ok. Now what?
Ooookkkkaaayyyy. Maybe they pee in the tub?
I'm not peeing in the tub.
So as I'm standing in the bathroom trying to figure out what to do, I hear....flushing! I think to myself 'You moron - the toilet is in a separate room.'
I leave the 'bathroom' to see someone coming out of the door next to mine. The room with the toilet in it. Ggggrrrr....
Our hostess was nice enough not to say anything but to this day I can only imagine what the hell she thought I was doing in her bathroom.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Land of the Free...Home of the Where Did You Learn to Drive?!
Impending Rant Warning....I'm brushing off my soap boxes. I need to stack two, you know, for the vertically challenged, otherwise people wouldn't see me.
The office building where I work rents space to a church group that does beaucoup work with refugees. I'm not entirely sure how these two groups find each other but every month or so there is a new collection of future Americans loitering in the hallways.
Please, don't get me wrong, if you attempted to swim the Altantic Ocean, sail here on a raft made of milk cartons or arrived in anything that can be classified as a container, in order to escape starvation, war, disease, tyranny, religious oppression, you name it, you deserve the right to stay here. That being said...
Here's where the rant portion of our program begins.
It amazes me that we feel the need to cram useless American History into these peoples heads in the hope that it somehow makes them worthy. (The church group has classes in our office building during the day.) I don't think knowing who the 23rd President is will help them in any fashion other than snappy cocktail party conversation.
In my opinion, immediately after they have a rudimentary grasp of the english language...
TEACH THEM TO DRIVE PROPERLY!!
I have almost been killed in the parking lot on a number of occasions by what can only be described as a fleet of 1980 Honda Civics. (Do they hoard these cars for this specific purpose?) You've seen them, you know what I mean. They're usually 4 different rust fading colors, held together with duct tape and chewing gum, and they can fit 12 people in them. Presumably because each person is only 6 inches thick from front to back. And. They. Don't. Use. Seatbelts or CAR SEATS! GGAAHHH!!
They park perpendicular to the parked cars in the lot and wait in them for unspecified amounts of time (this happens with multiple cars at one time) which makes it really annoying at lunchtime when you are trying to leave.
Stop signs and traffic lights are optional. They obviously do not know what the yellow line means because they are all over the road. No directional signals, sometimes no break lights -nothing. Our office parking lot has both stop signs and a traffic light before you get to the main road. I am not stalking these people all over the city - I've witnessed it first hand before I have even left the parking lot.
Driving School, preferably taught by a grouchy police officer - this is what they need, not a history lesson.
Rant over. You may go about your day.
Oh - by the way, the 23rd President was Benjamin Harrison. I had to look it up and I've never freakin' heard of him.
The office building where I work rents space to a church group that does beaucoup work with refugees. I'm not entirely sure how these two groups find each other but every month or so there is a new collection of future Americans loitering in the hallways.
Please, don't get me wrong, if you attempted to swim the Altantic Ocean, sail here on a raft made of milk cartons or arrived in anything that can be classified as a container, in order to escape starvation, war, disease, tyranny, religious oppression, you name it, you deserve the right to stay here. That being said...
Here's where the rant portion of our program begins.
It amazes me that we feel the need to cram useless American History into these peoples heads in the hope that it somehow makes them worthy. (The church group has classes in our office building during the day.) I don't think knowing who the 23rd President is will help them in any fashion other than snappy cocktail party conversation.
In my opinion, immediately after they have a rudimentary grasp of the english language...
TEACH THEM TO DRIVE PROPERLY!!
I have almost been killed in the parking lot on a number of occasions by what can only be described as a fleet of 1980 Honda Civics. (Do they hoard these cars for this specific purpose?) You've seen them, you know what I mean. They're usually 4 different rust fading colors, held together with duct tape and chewing gum, and they can fit 12 people in them. Presumably because each person is only 6 inches thick from front to back. And. They. Don't. Use. Seatbelts or CAR SEATS! GGAAHHH!!
They park perpendicular to the parked cars in the lot and wait in them for unspecified amounts of time (this happens with multiple cars at one time) which makes it really annoying at lunchtime when you are trying to leave.
Stop signs and traffic lights are optional. They obviously do not know what the yellow line means because they are all over the road. No directional signals, sometimes no break lights -nothing. Our office parking lot has both stop signs and a traffic light before you get to the main road. I am not stalking these people all over the city - I've witnessed it first hand before I have even left the parking lot.
Driving School, preferably taught by a grouchy police officer - this is what they need, not a history lesson.
Rant over. You may go about your day.
Oh - by the way, the 23rd President was Benjamin Harrison. I had to look it up and I've never freakin' heard of him.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Parenting Comes Full Circle, Baby!!!
So, you know you've made it as a parent when your kid is lecturing you about the quality of fast food.
As some of you know I have a looovvvee of McDonald's Fries. Now, I don't advocate the practice of racing through the drive-thru and calling it a sit down meal but some days it just happens.
After a particularly busy day, work (for Me), school and baseball (for the Kid) it was 8pm by the time we were heading home. All of this goes on within a 7 mile radius mind you, it's not like we have far to go. But I just knew that if I waited until we got home to whip something up for dinner we'd be up until midnight. Did I mention that the Kid's history teacher decided that they would cram 6 weeks worth of homework into the past 3 days? No? Well they did, and it sucks!
Soooo, McDonald's drive-thru here we come.
As we're waiting in line with rest of the teenagers, and slacker parents waiting to order, we begin to dicuss the finer points of the menu.
My part consists solely of: Do you want a burger or something with chicken?
The Kid: Did you know that a Quarter Pounder with Cheese is the second most fatting thing on this menu?
Me: No, but I do now. And how pray tell do you know this?
The Kid: We've been watching Super Size Me is health class the past 3 days.
Me: Of course you have.
Sigh, we order and drive home. As we're getting out of the car it occurs to me to ask what the most fattening thing is on the menu.
The Kid just looks at me and says, 'Probably, that Southwest Salad you got.'
Perfect.
As some of you know I have a looovvvee of McDonald's Fries. Now, I don't advocate the practice of racing through the drive-thru and calling it a sit down meal but some days it just happens.
After a particularly busy day, work (for Me), school and baseball (for the Kid) it was 8pm by the time we were heading home. All of this goes on within a 7 mile radius mind you, it's not like we have far to go. But I just knew that if I waited until we got home to whip something up for dinner we'd be up until midnight. Did I mention that the Kid's history teacher decided that they would cram 6 weeks worth of homework into the past 3 days? No? Well they did, and it sucks!
Soooo, McDonald's drive-thru here we come.
As we're waiting in line with rest of the teenagers, and slacker parents waiting to order, we begin to dicuss the finer points of the menu.
My part consists solely of: Do you want a burger or something with chicken?
The Kid: Did you know that a Quarter Pounder with Cheese is the second most fatting thing on this menu?
Me: No, but I do now. And how pray tell do you know this?
The Kid: We've been watching Super Size Me is health class the past 3 days.
Me: Of course you have.
Sigh, we order and drive home. As we're getting out of the car it occurs to me to ask what the most fattening thing is on the menu.
The Kid just looks at me and says, 'Probably, that Southwest Salad you got.'
Perfect.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
What the....?!
Oh, if I only had the camera with me...
Currently I'm working on a post but I couldn't resist sharing this with everyone.
I'm driving back to the office from lunch and I'm behind a large dump truck. Now I'm not really paying attention to the finer points of said truck but we come to a red light, giving me an opportunity to check it out, and on the back is a large orange sign that reads:
CONSTRUCTION VEHICLE
DO NOT FOLLOW
Huh?
Well if we're going the same way how can I not follow you? Who was the idiot that thought that gem up.
Your tax dollars at work folks.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Dog Kisses Cures Everything
I'm so excited!!! Our new baby/puppy comes home on the 19th. Is he not the most adorable thing you've ever seen? (Yeah, I know I sound like I'm 14 but I just can't help it.)We've been waiting a year for this. First, we had to talk the landlord, who btw is the best landlord on the planet, into it. Second, we had to find the right pooch. Easier said than done people.
Although we had not found the perfect pooch we had picked out a name for our imaginary hound - Hooper. If you're from New England or have ever been to Cape Cod, you'd know that it's pronounced - Hoopah.
The Boyfriend is a HUGE fan of the movie Jaws. "I think we're going to need a bigger boat." Is a common utterance in our house whenever something isn't going right. We wanted to get two pooches and name one Hooper and the other Brody but we really don't have enough room.
Currently I've lost the arguement regarding the pooch wearing clothes. Yeah, I know it seems a bit ridiculous for a dog this size but *snicker* that topic really gets the Boyfriend going. Tee Hee.
I'll keep you posted on Project Puppy. Nine days and counting!!
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Divorce Lessons Learned
There are times when I wish I had a crystal ball...
Lesson 1: I Should Have Listened to My Mother
Why is it that we will pay oodles of money to have a ‘professional’ therapist/psychoanalyst/psychologist/ whatever, let’s face it, a complete stranger, diagnose our so called relationship problems and we ignore the one person who has known us our whole lives all while having 20 to 30 years of life experience on us? Beats me but I made a career out of it until I was 33.
My mother told me from the get go that this whole marriage thing was going to be nuts, don’t do it, you should wait she said. My dad chimed in too but my mom’s shrillness can drown out a space shuttle take off when she puts her mind to it.
But I knew, oooohhhh so much better. I was 22 after all. Dumba** you say? You would be quite right.
Listen to your mother.
Lesson #2: Fighting For the Shrimp Forks Really Isn’t That Important
Fight for the things you can’t replace. That’s being smart. Aunt Ida may have brought the forks over on the Mayflower but they’re just forks. Get over it, grow up, get new forks.
Don’t get me wrong the photo albums of little Jimmy are treasures but you can’t restart your pension and make back what you’d have to give him. Be smart, if he thinks he has something you want, like say the pictures you can scan and make copies of anyway, you’ll definitely get something else more important.
This is the tactic that I used to keep all three of my pensions, yup three; working for a labor union has its benefits. He thinks he’s won but when I retire at 60 and he’s working until he’s 80, who’s won then?
Oh – I’d say moi.
Lesson #3 Compromise, Compromise, Compromise
I grew up in the “Beige House”. Everything was neutral. Nine rooms and they were all beige. An interior designer once told my mother that our house looked like a museum. Needless to say she wasn’t asked back. I think my use of decorative color is a hold over rebellion from my childhood….The Beige Years.
I definitely have more patience now that I’m divorced. I wanted to paint the living room orange; we’re talking the color of Tang people. The Boyfriend silently thought I was crazy but I told him if he let me paint the room any color I wanted he could hang his custom made fishing poles around the same room.
In case you’re wondering yes I painted the room orange, the fishing poles look really cool and I painted the dining room teal.
Give a little to get a little and be so much happier.
Lesson #4 Keep Your Own Money
Oh, how I wish someone had told me this before I got married. This is not to say that if you enter into another relationship that you won’t equally pay for things nor have some kind of joint account but you should always, always have your own checking account and savings account.
In my opinion money can quickly breed hate. I personally love to tell people that I don’t receive child support. I love being able to say that I can take care of my kid all by myself. The ‘Ex” and I never argue about money because neither one of us is giving it to the other.
If I want to buy a pair of $95 shoes I don’t have to ask for anyone’s permission. It’s all about making you own decisions.
Be independent. You can do it and you’ll feel so much better for it.
Lesson 1: I Should Have Listened to My Mother
Why is it that we will pay oodles of money to have a ‘professional’ therapist/psychoanalyst/psychologist/ whatever, let’s face it, a complete stranger, diagnose our so called relationship problems and we ignore the one person who has known us our whole lives all while having 20 to 30 years of life experience on us? Beats me but I made a career out of it until I was 33.
My mother told me from the get go that this whole marriage thing was going to be nuts, don’t do it, you should wait she said. My dad chimed in too but my mom’s shrillness can drown out a space shuttle take off when she puts her mind to it.
But I knew, oooohhhh so much better. I was 22 after all. Dumba** you say? You would be quite right.
Listen to your mother.
Lesson #2: Fighting For the Shrimp Forks Really Isn’t That Important
Fight for the things you can’t replace. That’s being smart. Aunt Ida may have brought the forks over on the Mayflower but they’re just forks. Get over it, grow up, get new forks.
Don’t get me wrong the photo albums of little Jimmy are treasures but you can’t restart your pension and make back what you’d have to give him. Be smart, if he thinks he has something you want, like say the pictures you can scan and make copies of anyway, you’ll definitely get something else more important.
This is the tactic that I used to keep all three of my pensions, yup three; working for a labor union has its benefits. He thinks he’s won but when I retire at 60 and he’s working until he’s 80, who’s won then?
Oh – I’d say moi.
Lesson #3 Compromise, Compromise, Compromise
I grew up in the “Beige House”. Everything was neutral. Nine rooms and they were all beige. An interior designer once told my mother that our house looked like a museum. Needless to say she wasn’t asked back. I think my use of decorative color is a hold over rebellion from my childhood….The Beige Years.
I definitely have more patience now that I’m divorced. I wanted to paint the living room orange; we’re talking the color of Tang people. The Boyfriend silently thought I was crazy but I told him if he let me paint the room any color I wanted he could hang his custom made fishing poles around the same room.
In case you’re wondering yes I painted the room orange, the fishing poles look really cool and I painted the dining room teal.
Give a little to get a little and be so much happier.
Lesson #4 Keep Your Own Money
Oh, how I wish someone had told me this before I got married. This is not to say that if you enter into another relationship that you won’t equally pay for things nor have some kind of joint account but you should always, always have your own checking account and savings account.
In my opinion money can quickly breed hate. I personally love to tell people that I don’t receive child support. I love being able to say that I can take care of my kid all by myself. The ‘Ex” and I never argue about money because neither one of us is giving it to the other.
If I want to buy a pair of $95 shoes I don’t have to ask for anyone’s permission. It’s all about making you own decisions.
Be independent. You can do it and you’ll feel so much better for it.
Friday, June 5, 2009
The Weight Watcher Demon
119 lbs today!!! Weight Watchers is my secret demon. I alternately love and hate it.
I know what you're thinking. 119 pounds? Are you kidding? You should be jumping up and down with glee, not trying to lose 9 more.
Yeah, well, when you're only 5 feet tall and there are 12 year olds that look down to talk to you, like say, your kid's entire baseball team, gaining 20 pounds is not pretty.
In my younger, married years I had always been thin. I never owned a scale but I would guess I was somewhere between 105 and 110 pounds. It was a slow process putting on those 20 pounds. First, it was one pair of jeans that were a little tight, then it was two, until finally they wouldn't button at all. Two years after the parting of ways with 'The Ex' I was, wait for it, 130 pounds.
How did this happen?!
I attribute it to no tangible stress in my life. After the marriage implosion I wasn't constantly on edge about EVERYTHING. Apparently, a little stress (or a lot in my case) goes a long way with the metabolism. I don't think it's the healthiest way to exist but that seemed to keep the weight off of me. Who was I to complain?
I love to cook and more importantly I love to eat. My old philosophy about food was if it tastes good, eat it. 47 and Starting Over has a great blog about food - Dear Doctor. I was practically nodding and pointing at the screen when I read it. It described me fairly accurately.
About 8 months ago The Boyfriend and I had a knock down drag out fight about me making his lunch for work. Yeah, I know, of all the things to argue about we pick this dumba** thing. We should have some longevity if this is the best we can come up with to fight about. (Well, that and the dog wearing a life jacket but that's something for a later post.)
His side: He thought it would be too much trouble blah, blah, blah.
I know what you're thinking. 119 pounds? Are you kidding? You should be jumping up and down with glee, not trying to lose 9 more.
Yeah, well, when you're only 5 feet tall and there are 12 year olds that look down to talk to you, like say, your kid's entire baseball team, gaining 20 pounds is not pretty.
In my younger, married years I had always been thin. I never owned a scale but I would guess I was somewhere between 105 and 110 pounds. It was a slow process putting on those 20 pounds. First, it was one pair of jeans that were a little tight, then it was two, until finally they wouldn't button at all. Two years after the parting of ways with 'The Ex' I was, wait for it, 130 pounds.
How did this happen?!
I attribute it to no tangible stress in my life. After the marriage implosion I wasn't constantly on edge about EVERYTHING. Apparently, a little stress (or a lot in my case) goes a long way with the metabolism. I don't think it's the healthiest way to exist but that seemed to keep the weight off of me. Who was I to complain?
I love to cook and more importantly I love to eat. My old philosophy about food was if it tastes good, eat it. 47 and Starting Over has a great blog about food - Dear Doctor. I was practically nodding and pointing at the screen when I read it. It described me fairly accurately.
About 8 months ago The Boyfriend and I had a knock down drag out fight about me making his lunch for work. Yeah, I know, of all the things to argue about we pick this dumba** thing. We should have some longevity if this is the best we can come up with to fight about. (Well, that and the dog wearing a life jacket but that's something for a later post.)
His side: He thought it would be too much trouble blah, blah, blah.
It's not that he was opposed to taking his lunch to work, he just didn't want me to put it together.
My side: I'm Italian, feeding people makes me happy, let me do it. (Did I have a sinister ulterior motive? Duh. If I do it for him, I'll be more apt to do it for myself.)
The outcome of all of this is that I start making his lunch (yup, I won) and he starts losing weight. WHAT?! I swear for every pound he lost, I gained.
Enter Skinny Bitch and Weight Watchers.
I found the book Skinny Bitch on a whim at Barnes and Noble and it changed my life. Read it, you'll never look at boxed/processed food the same way again, not to mention meat. No, I'm not a vegan but I look at food a whole different way since reading this book. I definitely read the labels on everything I eat BEFORE I put it in my mouth, I don't read the box while I'm chewing.
Also,
I had seen my sister-in-law doing Weight Watchers for about 6 months, to lose the weight from her third child, and I have to admit she looked fabulous. I was truly impressed.
Once I found the Weight Watcher website I realized that the standard go to meeting approach was not going to work for me. Although there is one relatively close to my home and near the Trader Joe's I always go to, I didn't think I could bear the evil, hate filled glances (this is all in my head, mind you) of women who thought I didn't need to be there. Again with the, 'You only need to lose how many pounds?!' Not that anyone has actually done that to me, but the imagination was working in overdrive.
Yeah, that wasn't going to motivate me. So I signed up for the online version.
I equate this to weight loss lurking. The whole Points tracking thing makes me, again, think about everything I put in my mouth.
From a previous post I've mentioned my love of McDonald's French Fries, oh the sadness at realizing how many Points those are worth. Bye-bye McDonald's French Fries and hello, whole wheat bread with extra fiber and low fat turkey. Sigh....
So, obviously, if I follow the Weight Watchers plan I lose weight. 11 pounds so far. Love It!!
But, I've had to give up my beloved french fries. The Devil runs Weight Watchers. Hate It!!
Although, today is a 'Love It' day. I put on a pair of jeans this morning that I haven't worn in a year!! Maybe I'll get McDonald's for dinner.....
The outcome of all of this is that I start making his lunch (yup, I won) and he starts losing weight. WHAT?! I swear for every pound he lost, I gained.
Enter Skinny Bitch and Weight Watchers.
I found the book Skinny Bitch on a whim at Barnes and Noble and it changed my life. Read it, you'll never look at boxed/processed food the same way again, not to mention meat. No, I'm not a vegan but I look at food a whole different way since reading this book. I definitely read the labels on everything I eat BEFORE I put it in my mouth, I don't read the box while I'm chewing.
Also,
I had seen my sister-in-law doing Weight Watchers for about 6 months, to lose the weight from her third child, and I have to admit she looked fabulous. I was truly impressed.
Once I found the Weight Watcher website I realized that the standard go to meeting approach was not going to work for me. Although there is one relatively close to my home and near the Trader Joe's I always go to, I didn't think I could bear the evil, hate filled glances (this is all in my head, mind you) of women who thought I didn't need to be there. Again with the, 'You only need to lose how many pounds?!' Not that anyone has actually done that to me, but the imagination was working in overdrive.
Yeah, that wasn't going to motivate me. So I signed up for the online version.
I equate this to weight loss lurking. The whole Points tracking thing makes me, again, think about everything I put in my mouth.
From a previous post I've mentioned my love of McDonald's French Fries, oh the sadness at realizing how many Points those are worth. Bye-bye McDonald's French Fries and hello, whole wheat bread with extra fiber and low fat turkey. Sigh....
So, obviously, if I follow the Weight Watchers plan I lose weight. 11 pounds so far. Love It!!
But, I've had to give up my beloved french fries. The Devil runs Weight Watchers. Hate It!!
Although, today is a 'Love It' day. I put on a pair of jeans this morning that I haven't worn in a year!! Maybe I'll get McDonald's for dinner.....
Thursday, June 4, 2009
My Financial Plan
*** Huge Disclaimer: I am not a financial expert of any kind. Always consult a professional before undertaking any financial plan. This strategy may fly in the face of traditional methods but it works for me so I use it. ***
The difference between the minimum payments and the allotted amounts is $85.
Although it is a popular tack to pay above and beyond the minimum payment for a credit card; I take a different approach.
Instead I begin with the debt that is the least, Credit Card #1.
(For the sake of our example and for math simplicity we’ll assume 0% on the debt and that our minimum payments for each credit card are reduced by $5 per month. Oh – if it were only that easy in real life.)
For the First Month: Using the Total amount from the Difference column, I pay the $85 to Credit Card #1 and the minimum payments to each of the others. Making our chart look as such for month two:
I use this same approach for each subsequent month until Credit Card #1 is paid off.
Month Three should look like this:
This method also assumes that you will not be using any of the credit cards as you are trying to pay them off.
The philosophy behind my method is that as I pay each subsequent card down I can pay a higher allotted amount to the next debt on my list. Ideally, as you whittle everything down you'll be making $600 to $700 payments to your Education and eventually Auto Loans. I can't always make the payment in one lump sum, so I send one payment at the beginning of the month and one at the end.
I have been using this method for roughly two years and it works excellent for me. If you have any tips on how you're paying down your debt I'd love to hear them.
The numbers used in my example are fictitious but they should give you a good idea as to how the process works.
Step 1: Arrange each of your debts from least to greatest.
Step 1: Arrange each of your debts from least to greatest.
Credit Card #1: $400
Credit Card #2: $2500
Credit Card #3: $3000
Education Loan: $8500
Auto Loan: $10,000
Step 2: Figure out how much of your disposable income is going to go toward your debt each month. I allot one entire weeks net pay. For our example let’s use $700.
Step 3: Using your list from above create a chart that records the balances and minimum payments. Include two additional blank columns.
Step 4: Using the amount chosen in Step 2 ($700) divide this amount among each debt in Column 4 - Allotted Amount. Begin with the debts that will have structured set amounts due each month as the Education Loan and Auto Loan do.
Step 3: Using your list from above create a chart that records the balances and minimum payments. Include two additional blank columns.
Step 4: Using the amount chosen in Step 2 ($700) divide this amount among each debt in Column 4 - Allotted Amount. Begin with the debts that will have structured set amounts due each month as the Education Loan and Auto Loan do.
Then, distribute the remaining amount over each additional debt except for the first debt; this should be equal to the minimum payment.
Calculate the difference between the Allotted Amount and the Minimum Payment and put it in Column 5 – Difference:
Calculate the difference between the Allotted Amount and the Minimum Payment and put it in Column 5 – Difference:
The difference between the minimum payments and the allotted amounts is $85.
Although it is a popular tack to pay above and beyond the minimum payment for a credit card; I take a different approach.
Instead I begin with the debt that is the least, Credit Card #1.
(For the sake of our example and for math simplicity we’ll assume 0% on the debt and that our minimum payments for each credit card are reduced by $5 per month. Oh – if it were only that easy in real life.)
For the First Month: Using the Total amount from the Difference column, I pay the $85 to Credit Card #1 and the minimum payments to each of the others. Making our chart look as such for month two:
I use this same approach for each subsequent month until Credit Card #1 is paid off.
Month Three should look like this:
Once Credit Card #1 has been paid the Difference Column amount will be applied to Credit Card #2.
This method also assumes that you will not be using any of the credit cards as you are trying to pay them off.
The philosophy behind my method is that as I pay each subsequent card down I can pay a higher allotted amount to the next debt on my list. Ideally, as you whittle everything down you'll be making $600 to $700 payments to your Education and eventually Auto Loans. I can't always make the payment in one lump sum, so I send one payment at the beginning of the month and one at the end.
I have been using this method for roughly two years and it works excellent for me. If you have any tips on how you're paying down your debt I'd love to hear them.
Gates vs. GM
***I received this in a email from a friend. I would love to give credit to whomever wrote it but alas I do not know who that is.***
Gates vs. GM
For all of us who feel only the deepest love and affection for the way computers have enhanced our lives, read on.
At a recent computer expo (COMDEX), Bill Gates reportedly compared the computer industry with the auto industry and stated, "If GM had kept up with technology like the computer industry has, we would all be driving $25.00 cars that got 1,000 miles to the gallon."
In response to Bill's comments, General Motors issued a press release stating:
If GM had developed technology like Microsoft, we would all be driving cars with the following characteristics (and I just love this part):
1. For no reason whatsoever, your car would crash........Twice a day.
2. Every time they repainted the lines in the road, you would have to buy a new car.
3. Occasionally your car would die on the freeway for no reason. You would have to pull to the side of the road, close all of the windows, shut off the car, restart it, and reopen the windows before you could continue. For some reason you would simply accept this.
4. Occasionally, executing a maneuver such as a left turn would cause your car to shut down and refuse to restart, in which case you would have to reinstall the engine.
5. Macintosh would make a car that was powered by the sun, was reliable, five times as fast and twice as easy to drive - but would run on only five percent of the roads.
6. The oil, water temperature, and alternator warning lights would all be replaced by a single: "This Car Has Performed An Illegal Operation" warning light.
I love the next one!!!
7. The airbag system would ask "Are you sure?" before deploying.
8. Occasionally, for no reason whatsoever, your car would lock you out and refuse to let you in until you simultaneously lifted the door handle, turned the key and grabbed hold of the radio antenna.
9. Every time a new car was introduced car buyers would have to learn how to drive all over again because none of the controls would operate in the same manner as the old car.
10. You'd have to press the "Start" button to turn the engine off.
Gates vs. GM
For all of us who feel only the deepest love and affection for the way computers have enhanced our lives, read on.
At a recent computer expo (COMDEX), Bill Gates reportedly compared the computer industry with the auto industry and stated, "If GM had kept up with technology like the computer industry has, we would all be driving $25.00 cars that got 1,000 miles to the gallon."
In response to Bill's comments, General Motors issued a press release stating:
If GM had developed technology like Microsoft, we would all be driving cars with the following characteristics (and I just love this part):
1. For no reason whatsoever, your car would crash........Twice a day.
2. Every time they repainted the lines in the road, you would have to buy a new car.
3. Occasionally your car would die on the freeway for no reason. You would have to pull to the side of the road, close all of the windows, shut off the car, restart it, and reopen the windows before you could continue. For some reason you would simply accept this.
4. Occasionally, executing a maneuver such as a left turn would cause your car to shut down and refuse to restart, in which case you would have to reinstall the engine.
5. Macintosh would make a car that was powered by the sun, was reliable, five times as fast and twice as easy to drive - but would run on only five percent of the roads.
6. The oil, water temperature, and alternator warning lights would all be replaced by a single: "This Car Has Performed An Illegal Operation" warning light.
I love the next one!!!
7. The airbag system would ask "Are you sure?" before deploying.
8. Occasionally, for no reason whatsoever, your car would lock you out and refuse to let you in until you simultaneously lifted the door handle, turned the key and grabbed hold of the radio antenna.
9. Every time a new car was introduced car buyers would have to learn how to drive all over again because none of the controls would operate in the same manner as the old car.
10. You'd have to press the "Start" button to turn the engine off.
How the Work Week Progresses
Friday vs. Monday. I think all of us have felt the way at one time or another.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Finances and McDonald French Fries
My usual vice is shoe shopping but when it comes to my finances, the nerves always drive me to the french fries. Not just any fries folks, they have to be McDonald's fries.
During my divorce I would have given just about anything for the ground to open up and swallow me whole. I didn't want to think about the debt we were in or how we were going to split it up. I just wanted to get away.
What could have turned into a divorce battle to rival a Roman invasion, resolved itself in about three months, from start to finish. BUT.....there was a mountain of debt left for both of us.
I took some sage advice from my dad, accountant extraordinaire, and began the daunting task of organizing everyone I owed. This had to be the worst part. Putting everything down 'on paper', I used EXCEL, and adding it up.
There were may trips thru the McDonald's Drive-Thru for fries and Coke so I could clear my head and finish the job.
Tomorrow's post will outline my get out of debt plan and how it's working for me. It's so remarkably easy to follow anyone can do it.
During my divorce I would have given just about anything for the ground to open up and swallow me whole. I didn't want to think about the debt we were in or how we were going to split it up. I just wanted to get away.
What could have turned into a divorce battle to rival a Roman invasion, resolved itself in about three months, from start to finish. BUT.....there was a mountain of debt left for both of us.
I took some sage advice from my dad, accountant extraordinaire, and began the daunting task of organizing everyone I owed. This had to be the worst part. Putting everything down 'on paper', I used EXCEL, and adding it up.
There were may trips thru the McDonald's Drive-Thru for fries and Coke so I could clear my head and finish the job.
Tomorrow's post will outline my get out of debt plan and how it's working for me. It's so remarkably easy to follow anyone can do it.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
The Car Curse
I suffer from what my family affectionately calls ‘The Car Curse’.
My Brother is a mechanic or as I like to refer to him, The Auto Genius. He can fix anything if it has wheels. Otherwise, he’s lost. He always says that the best part of his job is to listen to people try and imitate the problem sounds their cars make. It rarely, if ever, helps diagnose the problem but he says it’s funny so he lets them do it. (I don’t believe he’s ever laughed in someone’s face but if you’ve ever made these noises to your mechanic – know that they’re laughing at you on the inside.)
My usual fix if my car is making a new noise is to turn the radio up. If I can’t hear the noise, all is fine. My Brother knows this and is usually prepared for whatever my latest car crisis is. Nine times out of ten it wouldn’t be a crisis if I didn’t turn up the radio.
One of the few things I own outright after The Divorce is my 2001 Dodge Caravan. Yes, a minivan. I am among the legions of sports moms whose back seats are littered with sports equipment (baseball is the sport of choice for ‘The Kid’), sweatshirts, extra sneakers, empty Gatorade bottles and other miscellaneous kid stuff. I think there might actually be bright colored plastic dive rings under the second seat. I have no idea why, we don’t even have a pool.
It is common knowledge that my van is a mess, a veritable disaster. I never sit in the passenger seat or the back seats so it never occurs to me to clean them. The hilarity in this is that I have OCD for everything else; house, office, closets, refrigerator to name a few. I have a particular obsession about the fridge.
So when I actually took the initiative to not only vacuum the inside of the van but to take it to a car wash it came as a surprise to everyone, including me. A co-worker gave me a carwash coupon booklet for Christmas. I’m pretty sure it was a humorous dig but they could come in useful.
Here’s where the curse begins to kick in.
So, I take the car to the car wash. Sounds benign right? Yeah, it should be, but wait…
There’s a carwash near my office so I can see the convenience in this. I give the attendant the coupon and work the car onto the track. This is relatively painless I tell myself, as there’s suddsing and shooshing with the rags and such. Then the rinsing and blowing dry. All’s good, that wasn’t so hard. Why didn’t I do this sooner?
Now, as I’m leaving the carwash I can hear a thumping noise. Figures.
I look into the driver’s side mirror and I see something hanging.
Hanging! What could be hanging!
I pull over and get out. It’s my left taillight! The carwash has RIPPED IT OFF! It was hanging by the wires! Have you ever taken a good look at a minivan’s taillights? They’re roughly the size of a watermelon. I couldn’t just leave it there.
After reassembling the taillight and sputtering the whole time. I notice that the rubber at the base of my windshield has been pulled up, the passenger side mirror is wrenched back and my antennae topper is missing.
That last one was my own fault for not removing it but it was just the icing.
I knew there was a reason I avoided the carwash. That’s what heavy rain is for.
This could be an isolated incident you say? Let’s fast forward a few months.
Knowing full well I have the Car Curse I consciously make the karmic mistake of saying ‘I never…’
Big trouble right there. I should have known nothing good ever comes of saying ‘I never (insert your situation here).’ But in my case it’s doubly bad when you say ‘I never…’ and combine it with a car related situation.
Thus, invoking The Curse.
In this particular case I said ‘I’ve never broken down on the side of the road.’
How’s that for tempting fate? I might as well have stuck my tongue out at fate for good measure.
The day after the dreaded ‘I never’ comment I was driving home from DSW and I hear Noise #1 or rather I felt and heard Noise #1. This noise can only be described as a slip and pull type noise. Anyone who has learned to drive on a standard transmission can tell you what it feels like to miss a gear.
Well, that’s not good, I say to myself as I change lanes from the middle to the right. Telling myself the whole time it’s just your imagination. You’re only 15 minutes from home. Riiigghhght.
I get off the highway and manage to make it through two traffic lights before I hear Noise #2. This would be a loud grinding and whining noise. Not good.
All I can think of as I hear this noise is, ‘I had the transmission fluid changed 6 months ago just like I was supposed to!’
At the third light that’s when everything goes to hell. Noise #3, Kaboom! Transmission’s gone and all I have is reverse. This is what I get for saying ‘I never.’
$2700 later and a chastising of biblical proportions from my Brother about turning up the radio (which I swear this time I didn’t do) I have a remade transmission and some kind of shiny thing on my radiator that my Dad says is essential to the temperature of something. God! Whatever!
The Car Curse lives on.
BTW – I think I’m two thousand miles over for my oil change…..
My Brother is a mechanic or as I like to refer to him, The Auto Genius. He can fix anything if it has wheels. Otherwise, he’s lost. He always says that the best part of his job is to listen to people try and imitate the problem sounds their cars make. It rarely, if ever, helps diagnose the problem but he says it’s funny so he lets them do it. (I don’t believe he’s ever laughed in someone’s face but if you’ve ever made these noises to your mechanic – know that they’re laughing at you on the inside.)
My usual fix if my car is making a new noise is to turn the radio up. If I can’t hear the noise, all is fine. My Brother knows this and is usually prepared for whatever my latest car crisis is. Nine times out of ten it wouldn’t be a crisis if I didn’t turn up the radio.
One of the few things I own outright after The Divorce is my 2001 Dodge Caravan. Yes, a minivan. I am among the legions of sports moms whose back seats are littered with sports equipment (baseball is the sport of choice for ‘The Kid’), sweatshirts, extra sneakers, empty Gatorade bottles and other miscellaneous kid stuff. I think there might actually be bright colored plastic dive rings under the second seat. I have no idea why, we don’t even have a pool.
It is common knowledge that my van is a mess, a veritable disaster. I never sit in the passenger seat or the back seats so it never occurs to me to clean them. The hilarity in this is that I have OCD for everything else; house, office, closets, refrigerator to name a few. I have a particular obsession about the fridge.
So when I actually took the initiative to not only vacuum the inside of the van but to take it to a car wash it came as a surprise to everyone, including me. A co-worker gave me a carwash coupon booklet for Christmas. I’m pretty sure it was a humorous dig but they could come in useful.
Here’s where the curse begins to kick in.
So, I take the car to the car wash. Sounds benign right? Yeah, it should be, but wait…
There’s a carwash near my office so I can see the convenience in this. I give the attendant the coupon and work the car onto the track. This is relatively painless I tell myself, as there’s suddsing and shooshing with the rags and such. Then the rinsing and blowing dry. All’s good, that wasn’t so hard. Why didn’t I do this sooner?
Now, as I’m leaving the carwash I can hear a thumping noise. Figures.
I look into the driver’s side mirror and I see something hanging.
Hanging! What could be hanging!
I pull over and get out. It’s my left taillight! The carwash has RIPPED IT OFF! It was hanging by the wires! Have you ever taken a good look at a minivan’s taillights? They’re roughly the size of a watermelon. I couldn’t just leave it there.
After reassembling the taillight and sputtering the whole time. I notice that the rubber at the base of my windshield has been pulled up, the passenger side mirror is wrenched back and my antennae topper is missing.
That last one was my own fault for not removing it but it was just the icing.
I knew there was a reason I avoided the carwash. That’s what heavy rain is for.
This could be an isolated incident you say? Let’s fast forward a few months.
Knowing full well I have the Car Curse I consciously make the karmic mistake of saying ‘I never…’
Big trouble right there. I should have known nothing good ever comes of saying ‘I never (insert your situation here).’ But in my case it’s doubly bad when you say ‘I never…’ and combine it with a car related situation.
Thus, invoking The Curse.
In this particular case I said ‘I’ve never broken down on the side of the road.’
How’s that for tempting fate? I might as well have stuck my tongue out at fate for good measure.
The day after the dreaded ‘I never’ comment I was driving home from DSW and I hear Noise #1 or rather I felt and heard Noise #1. This noise can only be described as a slip and pull type noise. Anyone who has learned to drive on a standard transmission can tell you what it feels like to miss a gear.
Well, that’s not good, I say to myself as I change lanes from the middle to the right. Telling myself the whole time it’s just your imagination. You’re only 15 minutes from home. Riiigghhght.
I get off the highway and manage to make it through two traffic lights before I hear Noise #2. This would be a loud grinding and whining noise. Not good.
All I can think of as I hear this noise is, ‘I had the transmission fluid changed 6 months ago just like I was supposed to!’
At the third light that’s when everything goes to hell. Noise #3, Kaboom! Transmission’s gone and all I have is reverse. This is what I get for saying ‘I never.’
$2700 later and a chastising of biblical proportions from my Brother about turning up the radio (which I swear this time I didn’t do) I have a remade transmission and some kind of shiny thing on my radiator that my Dad says is essential to the temperature of something. God! Whatever!
The Car Curse lives on.
BTW – I think I’m two thousand miles over for my oil change…..
Monday, June 1, 2009
Weekly Goals
I try on a weekly basis to set some goals that make me feel that I've accomplished something (other than the regular 9-5 work) by the end of the week. This week's lofty goals are:
1. Research wireless/cable modem setup. I refuse to get everything from the cable company. I think they're legalized pirates.
2. Tweak the zucchini/mushroom recipe I found on Weight Watcher website. The attempt at following it verbatim produced squishy squash. I'll post my results.
3. Finish my 'Car Curse' post. That one should be up tomorrow.
4. Reassess weekly savings amount. Our Work raise is effective today - woo hoo!! I love my ING account it makes savings sooo easy.
This should get me started. I'll be back with updates.
1. Research wireless/cable modem setup. I refuse to get everything from the cable company. I think they're legalized pirates.
2. Tweak the zucchini/mushroom recipe I found on Weight Watcher website. The attempt at following it verbatim produced squishy squash. I'll post my results.
3. Finish my 'Car Curse' post. That one should be up tomorrow.
4. Reassess weekly savings amount. Our Work raise is effective today - woo hoo!! I love my ING account it makes savings sooo easy.
This should get me started. I'll be back with updates.
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