Thursday, September 30, 2010

chub reasons

I told you that I've logged over 100 miles every month now since April. But I'm still chubby. And you know what? I always will be. Here's why:

1. I always eat dessert. I mean always. After every meal and snack
2. Steve said I was tweaking the other day before my root beer float fix
3. I won't eat anything green. White is the best color for food
4. My diet can be summed up in three categories: carbs, sugar, Qdoba
5. I don't vary my workout routine. I'd rather just log miles
6. Olive Garden Chicken Scampi
7. In my work drawer next to the envelopes is a Zinger, marshmallow supreme, and a Nature Valley® Dark Chocolate Granola Thin
8. Saturday mornings were made for a Starbucks drink and a Winchell's donut
9. Steve says he likes my body, so I pretend to believe him
10. You think I'm a bitch now? Imagine how much bitchier a skinnier me would be!

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

The Big C

Steve has been watching The Big C and telling me I'd probably like it. "No I won't," I reply. "I won't like a show about Cancer." I can think of a few other words (some expletives) that start with "C" that I would watch a show about, but Cancer is definitely not one of them. Too depressing. If I want to be depressed, I'll just log into my online banking, thank you very much.

But once I sink into that recliner, there's no getting up. So if Steve just happens to turn on The Big C, I guess I'm watching it. What the hell, we're already paying for these premium channels that only serious TV watchers would be stupid enough to pay for anyway, might as well get my money's worth.

Contrary to my premature judgments, Laura Linney is not depressed about cancer. Rather, she decides she's not going to be dull and boring anymore, but do and say what she wants. She doesn't give a shit about social niceties anymore. She starts to do things for herself. Like wake up one morning and put a pool in her backyard.

Of course, I liked it. I am a sucker for shows on premium channels. They aren't filled with commercials and they have actual story lines, not just laugh tracks. The characters are usually complex and both the dialogue and narrative is realistic yet thought-provoking. And Laura Linney? She is the perfect blend of bitchy and nonchalant. I think I am her, yet without Cancer as an excuse for my actions. Damn it, what can my excuse be?

Oh well, who needs an excuse? The Big C can mean many different things. So what if the one that relates to me is an expletive?

Saturday, September 25, 2010

retail me

I got a Banana Republic credit card the other day. I love Banana Republic. And Gap. Besides those two places, I only buy clothes online and occasionally at JCPenney (I know it's for old women, but I park there so while walking through the store I stop and buy something). Steve told me I could spend a bit over my usual allotment this weekend (don't swoon over him, ladies: I came into some extra money completely on my own and he was allowing me to spend it).

So between the extra money and now having this credit card, I feel the need to buy things. After I spend $800 I get free shipping on online orders all the time. This is what my sister would call a "marketing scheme." She loves to say that. She's always trying to talk me out of buying things as if it's going to work. But I'm OK w/being part of the very influenceable consumer public. What my sister doesn't understand is I like to buy things.

So I was online looking for something I could buy to work my way up to my $800. Problem is, Banana Republic only employs ugly models. Seriously. Take a look for yourself:
I was about to buy this cardigan and then I realized it would make me look like a middle-aged librarian who is in desperate need of a root touch-up.
Her face says: "Let me guess: you're surprised I'm a model? Well so am I!"

Needless to say, I didn't find anything online. At the mall last night I tried on some pants that I really liked but I thought, no, I could get those cheaper online with some coupon code off retailmenot. But it turns out I couldn't. So I dreamt about the pants that got away, woke up this morning and made it to the store in time for the last pair in my size. Something about not seeing them on a hideous model made me like them.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

good hammock gone bad

What do you think, should we switch lawn care services?

This is today's aerating job gone south (well, actually north).

In addition to hating Heartland Lawns, I hate how it gets dark so early. This picture was taken before I had even eaten dinner. I guess it's time to hop back on the treadmill after logging 500 miles outside these last five months.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

birthday, wax, boycott

Today my husband is 29 years old. This means that I have known him for over 8 years. I remember spending his 21st birthday with him in the Old Market Lofts at a tenant roof party we weren't invited to. Steve won an accent wall that we later gave to an actual tenant. Next, we were invited to a balding man's loft for some celebratory spiced rum (celebrating Steve's birthday, not the accent wall).

I like birthday traditions. We don't have many yet, but every year I buy him an ice cream cake. I buy the big one usually used for actual birthday parties because we've been known to eat this as a meal.
I finished running the birthday present errands of picking up booze and cigars on time this year, so over lunch I stopped to get my eyebrows waxed. Steve had just asked the other day how long it had been since my last wax; he told me he doesn't usually notice but I had definite traces of a unibrow this time. Say no more, I get it.

I love the efficiency of the eyebrow wax: two minutes of quick follicle ripping and you're done. However, there is always that one minute of tweezing the strays afterward. I laid there thinking about how painful each tweezer pull was, my eyes watering. And then I reminded myself that I've had a baby so I need to stop being a pussy about some eyebrow tweezing. But do keep in mind that if I wanted to tweeze, I wouldn't go in and get my eyebrows waxed in the first place.

Do you know what was on tonight? The season 10 premier of the Biggest Loser. And remember when I said I was boycotting it? Well my smart little DVR box remember to record it from last season's settings. But when I saw it was recording, I deleted it. I held my ground. I don't need to watch another season of hour-long weigh-ins with people crying when they drop double digits in a week saying, "I used to eat 12 ding dongs a day, I never thought I could do it!" (that very concise summary of the show is courtesy of the Birthday Boy).

Monday, September 20, 2010

If Facebook were around back then

My friend Tracey forwarded this email to me and it is too good not to post on my blog. We may not have the same political or religious beliefs, but as long as you have a sense of humor you should enjoy this. Quit being so uptight and politically correct and let go a little.

If you like this, there are two more here at Cool Material.

If Historical Events had Facebook Statuses

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

moving past first impressions

"People tell us who they are but we ignore it; because we want them to be who we want them to be." - Don Draper on Mad Men

And people say you don't learn anything by watching tv.

For any of us who have ever summed up a person before getting to know them. For any of us who never stopped listening to someone only because we never started. For any of us who pretend to listen but are really only waiting for our turn to talk. We're assholes.

Everyone has a story; no one is one-dimensional. We choose who we want to align ourselves with in life, but if we don't give people a chance, how do we know we're picking the right people?


I was telling my mom the other day that I was giving someone I judged too quickly a chance at last. Something I should have done long ago. What people often don't realize about me I often glaze over about them: that there's more there than meets the eye. Who am I to judge a person's character? The only power I have is how I choose to react.

Monday, September 13, 2010

starting school


Can you believe that Gracie started Kindergarten today? Neither can I.

What did it feel like to first start school? I still remember, of course, since it happened in tenth grade. But before that, I did have elementary school memories with my two classmates; Chad, Amber and I all had desks packed in tightly together against the wall. It was like the table setup at The Cheesecake Factory. We each wrote our names on paper bags and used them as our "mailboxes" for passing notes to each other. We would taunt each other for having crushes on a neighbor or a kid at church since we didn't know anyone else.

When I was their age, I sat in my dad's fifth grade public school class for a day. It was Flag Day, and I was wearing a pink and blue tie-dye hand-me-down Mickey Mouse t-shirt. A piece of attire with that many hyphens can only mean style disaster. I was mocked mercilessly for being the weird homeschooler, but I kicked some ass in the field games which got them to shut up. One good thing about being the awkward skinny girl was that I could outrun all the kids who grew up on Twinkies and Coca-Cola.

In high school I was shy and introverted. In college, I broke out of it. And now, people never believe me when I tell them I was homeschooled for ten years. Probably the fact that I don't wear braids or denim skirts throws them off. And the cursing - that confuses the hell out of everybody.

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Googled

Having a sitemeter on my blog allows me to see who is reading my blog. Well, names of the computer owners don't actually come up (but it would be pretty sweet if they did), but I can see from what part of the world my viewers are from and how they found my page. Usually my readers are regulars, but once in awhile I'll get a hit from a foreign country and I can pretty much bet on the fact that they weren't looking for my blog.

I've been collecting some of the phrases people have typed into Google before ending up at my site. Here are a few. I'll keep collecting for future posts because I find it hilarious.

1. shoes that look bitchin' for a night out
2. how do you remove coritsone cream from microfiber couch pillows
3. meeker mansion wedding alcohol
4. koli got screwed
5. amber pelesky piano lessons
at this point I bought her business cards since I don't want to drive business away from my sister with my potty mouth
6. firework shells
7. neighborhood bible time versus {sic} 2010
Since you might not know what that is: it's a national summer church camp that is very competition-driven. I won in seventh grade for memorizing 132 verses in four days, so knowing that people cheat by googling the verses to memorize beforehand miffed me a bit, even now
8. sarah church backpack
have no idea what this person was trying to find: did Sarah at church have a cool backpack and they thought if they googled it a picture would magically appear? Bizarre...
9. leaving wad the wurst thing you ever done alone poems
??? Was this a child with a speech and typing impediment?
10. "sober to drunk"

And saving the best for last: my absolute favorite - someone from Broken Arrow, OK googled:
i was screaming at a bitch in the parking lot in a little gray car
Again, I'm not quite sure what they were hoping to find online about that - maybe the owner of the gray car? Either way, it made my day.

Saturday, September 11, 2010

vanity plates



The idiocy that is vanity plates

I was behind a red car yesterday with a vanity plate of "STMP LDY." I was imagining the driver: a short woman without feet. What else could that mean but "Stump Lady"? While trying to imagine how she pushed the accelerator and brake pedals, I read her license plate frame: "Stampin' it up!" Oh, so I guess there is another thing it could mean. That made me curious about misinterpreted personal plates. I found this article:

May 10, 2009|DeeDee Correll, Correll writes for The Times.

DENVER — All Kelley Coffman-Lee wanted to do was broadcast her love of tofu to the driving public.

So the Colorado vegan applied to the state's Department of Revenue for a vanity license plate for her Suzuki SL7 carrying the message: ILVTOFU.

Application denied.

Not only that, but Coffman-Lee's pithy ode to soy went straight onto the department's list of letter combinations banned under a state law that permits authorities to weed out those applications deemed "offensive to good taste or decency."


Wait, what? There's a list? I want to see that. So my research found that's it's not a national list, but rather each state has it's own "blue list." I fully intended on publishing a few selections from NY's blue list, but found all 9 pages to be filled with hilarious filth contained in 8 characters or less. The only choices I found that I didn't think were that bad are probably over my head and way dirtier than I could imagine. So just in case my mom reads this blog, I won't force you to read any selections by putting them in giant font bold on here. But please note I left the link for any one like me who just can't resist.


P.S. Does anyone else find it funny that we're cracking down on vanity plates? I'm sure the six-year-olds on the sidewalk with the filthy mouths learned their vocabulary somewhere other than a license plate.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Wal*Mart

There is one place I hate more than any other. A trip here destroys my good mood for the rest of the day week month year. If there was a such thing as "hell on earth," it would be Wal*Mart. It doesn't matter which Wal*Mart you go to in what part of the world: they all suck.

In Illinois, Steve and I would get our groceries there every single Sunday. Pure torture: kids screaming; fat flesh hanging uncovered over elastic waistbands; 20,000 people packed into a warehouse trying to get a deal on Doritos. Anyway you add it up, it doesn't get much worse. When we moved back to Nebraska, we both decided for the sake of our sanity we wouldn't do it anymore. We haven't looked back.

But today I finally had to make a trip to the Rollback Hellhole. I love these Chicken Cordon Bleus that Antioch Farms makes. And since Hy-Vee has been out of them for three weeks straight now, it was my last resort. Desperate times call for desperate measures. It wasn't too crowded at noon on a Thursday: I only bumped into three people with my cart. But with Wal*Mart, it can not be a smooth shopping excursion: it's Murphy's Law for superstores.

There were only a couple checkout lanes open, so I picked the one that had a single person in it. Just as the conveyor belt finally made room for my items, she said to the cashier, "everything behind these milk cartons are price comparison items." And then I saw the balled up wad of ads in her hand. I realized why no one else was in her lane and made a beeline out of it.

This next cashier couldn't have been more than 11 years old. The customer was buying three TVs. Three times she flicked her light to have a manager come unclip the bungee cords tied around the boxes. "You can tell I'm a natural blonde," she said in embarrasment. No, actually, I couldn't, I just thought you were stupid. Also, you don't look old enough to handle those hazardous chemicals found in hair dye.

A cashier change later, it was finally my turn. The whole excursion took up the entiriety of my one-hour lunch break. Yes, driving to the Wal*Mart a mile from my work and buying Irish Spring soap and Chicken Cordon Bleus took that long. Don't even try to tell me you had a bad day. This errand single-handedly spoiled my day week September 2010.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

shape

We all have people in our lives - some good, some bad- that shape us. ~Some crime show on CBS after Big Brother tonight

My daughter shaped me. I know that sounds bizarre since I hardly know her, but somehow the whole event of her birth and everything that led up to it and followed as a result of it changed me:

Her adoptive parents showed me that love and goodness can come out of a mistake, not just anger and judgment.

The anger and judgment I felt from others taught me how to live independently.

The mistakes I made taught me to forgive others for theirs.

Watching Gracie grow up happy makes me realize that not every mistake has to turn into a regret.


I'm not a perfect person: I'm selfish and ungrateful and pessimistic. But Gracie's birth illuminated another side to me that I didn't know was there: a side of me that believes in joy, peace, goodness. And for that I am grateful and optimistic.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

some more favorites

I'm a phase girl. I go through phases of liking things. Here are some of my favorite things from the last couple weeks:

Colored mats. I've loved them since I saw Doug and Carrie's green mat on King of Queens.

Autumn decorations. Yes, I plan to be that mom with a Rubbermaid container for every holiday.

I'm going through an organizing phase right now. What's better than a basket shelf that hangs from a shelf? I need to get one of these for every closet in our house. $3 at Big Lots.

Root beer floats. I'm addicted. I require at least 2 per night (no, I'm not pregnant, I just love sugar).

Now I can get in Steve's car without fear of a shovel landing on my head. This $20 worth of plastic is brilliant.

I know, I glorified the Nike+iPod in my last favorite things post. This is a chip holder that attaches to the shoe laces of any running shoe. Before, you put the chip under the left sole in a special cutout hole only found in certain Nike shoes. Now anyone can use this with any shoe, Nike, Adidas, even Reebok if you're into that kind of thing. $5 on eBay.

Saturday, September 4, 2010

epithets

Today held no agenda. So I finished Thursday's puzzle, then read a book on the couch. When my head was filled with thoughts, I grabbed my green pen and wrote. Then I went on a walk. Omaha is hushed for three hours every Saturday in the fall. I walked by houses with Husker flags and heard nothing but the muffled static of television sets. I walked until my head had again filled with thoughts and then I came home to a house filled with the fragrant nearly-Autumn breeze from the open windows. I sat down to write again.

Today I am myself. Today I am not influenced by anything or anyone else. This is me. Sometimes my duties as an employee, a homeowner, a wife, and a hundred other epithets cloud my mind and I forget. But not today. Today held no agenda.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

nightlife

Since you read my blog, you already know I'm a nerdy homebody whose idea of a party is a bottle of wine and a board game. So you probably won't believe that I'm on omahanightlife.com. Well I am. Apparently being at an outdoor concert on a school night qualifies me as a party animal.

What is Steve so pissed about? We're on someone's website holding a bumper sticker. People kill for this opportunity at fame.