1. When driving on 495 a couple of weeks ago...MFC asked me if I had it in reverse. I had zoned out and was going 45 MPH.
2. I've taken to carrying tea bags in my purse..just in case. IN CASE OF WHAT? This also proves that I might be becoming my mother. (Hi mom. She is laughing maliciously reading this saying 'I told you so!')
3. Darn kid at the Seafood counter at the grocery store called me ma'am. Twice.
4. After teaching a dance class for high schoolers I could barely move to get out of bed this morning. Where's my Icy Hot????
4.2 I used the words 'palpitations' in that class
4.3 I also used the word 'cool' and it sounded about as awkward as when my parents used it when I was a teenager. Soo not cool.
5. At night...sometimes I get a little excited thinking about my morning oatmeal..which is SO GOOD. Not the instant kind people. I slow cook that S*&!
6. When seeing my friend's Facebook status that her Christmas shopping is nearly complete..and it isn't even Halloween, I felt jealousy. Pure jealousy.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Sunday, October 24, 2010
I'm here to answer life's real burning questions..
For example: when is the appropriate time to let the person you are dating know that you are human? Not 'hey, I'm not perfect I make mistakes too' human. Like, 'Everybody Poops and sometimes I have gas human.'
I know some (i like to believe rare) girls choose not to ever really let this cat out of the bag. I have a good friend who has been with her husband in total over 10 years. She can count on ONE hand the amount of times she has farted in front of him. I won't use her name, you know who you are. I am fascinated with this. She swears she wishes she could get her gas out, and has been known to have intense stomachaches. I however think (know) this may be her personal choice. Good for her.
I am not one of those girls.
I have always been the girl who has said, if he can't handle my gas, he can't handle me. I'm not getting bloated and uncomfortable for anyone. But, even I understand the time table. There is a suitable time to...for lack of better term, and pun intended 'let shit fly'.
Of course the very first time I went to MFC's house and used the bathroom, I sat down and it was like my body just couldn't wait to break the bathroom in. Seriously? NOW?? I've been here 20 minutes!
Naturally as would be my luck, I had a toilet clogging incident and there was that moment of panic where you stare at the water level in the toilet and pray to GOD in a cold sweat that everything is going down and there won't be an overflow situation. I wildly looked for a plunger to no avail. Luckily for me, someone smiled upon me and I didn't need to call in the reserves.
There was a double flush situation, and a longer than normal bathroom average time. Could the jig be up so soon? Sigh. It has been that way ever since. My colon ADORES that toilet.
Weeks go by and I end up in a conversation with someone my roommate is seeing. Turns out, he's been leaving our house in a hot hurry in the morning for sweet relief because he didn't realize we have a fan in our bathroom to muffle the noises. Then he broke the ice by farting in front of ME, I farted in front of him so, he feels better. Still not in front of my roommate, but at least he can go somewhere in the house for relief. He also found the window in our shower. We all know his business when you walk in the bathroom at 6am with the fan going and the window wide open. Brrr.
I break this news to MFC about roommates' man's bathroom hangups. MFC is surprised to find out about our fan as well, and dare I say elated?
As a woman I never think about the fan...I rely on the faucet trick. Ladies, you know it. You know it well. Everything can be muffled with a hard running faucet.
MFC, is fascinated with this trick--he has never heard of this one. We are now trading battle field stories. And, somehow it turns into who is going to let the fart fly first. Then it turns into 'how bad could it really be?'. This sounds like a contest to me. And, much like my friend's 'Ugly Sweater Party' looming in December, I politely tell him he doesn't know who he is dealing with. This may not be lady like, but I am human like. Do we really want to open this can of worms?
We all know once it is opened there is no going back. Before you know it you are getting a dutch oven at 7am and that is now foreplay. This could lead to no good.
I made a tentative step by setting one free in front of his brother..which is almost the same...OK not at all the same.
My good friend Nate says 'Al, don't do it. It changes everything'. Of course he is being dramatic..but, maybe it does..
Siobhan (my roommate) is convinced that all the women in the 50's looked so happy to see their husbands off to work because they were just waiting to go to the bathroom--or just pass some gas.
The divorce rate WAS a lot lower then..maybe they were onto something...hmm.
However, MFC is all but begging me to let one free. OK, he is begging. Clearly he just wants to relieve the pressure. Pun intended.
I told him it's his game. His move first.
Game on. Someone is gonna get hurt.
I know some (i like to believe rare) girls choose not to ever really let this cat out of the bag. I have a good friend who has been with her husband in total over 10 years. She can count on ONE hand the amount of times she has farted in front of him. I won't use her name, you know who you are. I am fascinated with this. She swears she wishes she could get her gas out, and has been known to have intense stomachaches. I however think (know) this may be her personal choice. Good for her.
I am not one of those girls.
I have always been the girl who has said, if he can't handle my gas, he can't handle me. I'm not getting bloated and uncomfortable for anyone. But, even I understand the time table. There is a suitable time to...for lack of better term, and pun intended 'let shit fly'.
Of course the very first time I went to MFC's house and used the bathroom, I sat down and it was like my body just couldn't wait to break the bathroom in. Seriously? NOW?? I've been here 20 minutes!
Naturally as would be my luck, I had a toilet clogging incident and there was that moment of panic where you stare at the water level in the toilet and pray to GOD in a cold sweat that everything is going down and there won't be an overflow situation. I wildly looked for a plunger to no avail. Luckily for me, someone smiled upon me and I didn't need to call in the reserves.
There was a double flush situation, and a longer than normal bathroom average time. Could the jig be up so soon? Sigh. It has been that way ever since. My colon ADORES that toilet.
Weeks go by and I end up in a conversation with someone my roommate is seeing. Turns out, he's been leaving our house in a hot hurry in the morning for sweet relief because he didn't realize we have a fan in our bathroom to muffle the noises. Then he broke the ice by farting in front of ME, I farted in front of him so, he feels better. Still not in front of my roommate, but at least he can go somewhere in the house for relief. He also found the window in our shower. We all know his business when you walk in the bathroom at 6am with the fan going and the window wide open. Brrr.
I break this news to MFC about roommates' man's bathroom hangups. MFC is surprised to find out about our fan as well, and dare I say elated?
As a woman I never think about the fan...I rely on the faucet trick. Ladies, you know it. You know it well. Everything can be muffled with a hard running faucet.
MFC, is fascinated with this trick--he has never heard of this one. We are now trading battle field stories. And, somehow it turns into who is going to let the fart fly first. Then it turns into 'how bad could it really be?'. This sounds like a contest to me. And, much like my friend's 'Ugly Sweater Party' looming in December, I politely tell him he doesn't know who he is dealing with. This may not be lady like, but I am human like. Do we really want to open this can of worms?
We all know once it is opened there is no going back. Before you know it you are getting a dutch oven at 7am and that is now foreplay. This could lead to no good.
I made a tentative step by setting one free in front of his brother..which is almost the same...OK not at all the same.
My good friend Nate says 'Al, don't do it. It changes everything'. Of course he is being dramatic..but, maybe it does..
Siobhan (my roommate) is convinced that all the women in the 50's looked so happy to see their husbands off to work because they were just waiting to go to the bathroom--or just pass some gas.
The divorce rate WAS a lot lower then..maybe they were onto something...hmm.
However, MFC is all but begging me to let one free. OK, he is begging. Clearly he just wants to relieve the pressure. Pun intended.
I told him it's his game. His move first.
Game on. Someone is gonna get hurt.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
This moment of solitude is brought to you by Mr. Clean's Magic Eraser
I love a clean tub. For months I have been cleaning the tub with bleach and thinking that the slight grey hue on the bottom had to be a stain, because...you know, I was scrubbing with bleach.
Well, much to my surprise when I busted out The Magic Eraser a miracle happened, the hue IS GONE. I was un-naturally happy about this. Giddy you might say.
During my next shower as I was admiring the shower floor I had a thought. Gosh, I haven't taken a bath in YEARS. Years! I wonder if this is a good tub for a bath? Hmmm.
So right there, with the water running I laid down in the shower. Yup. This would work for a bath. I laid there for a minute imagining the bath to be had. Then I sat up.
Let me tell you, if you haven't SAT in your shower while it was running you are missing out on a seriously fantastic moment. I imagine it to be a lot like sitting under a water fall in Hawaii. (Most likely because I have never been to Hawaii). It is sublime. Truly. And, a little weird. I wouldn't tell a lot of people about it..OK I would, because that is what I do but, I encourage you to have a secret moment with yourself and try it.
We did have an incident in the bathroom this week with a broken shower rod...my roomate had it fall down on her mid shower 4 times. So, she is NOT feeling as zen as I am about the tub...
However, all our 'rod woes' are fixed and tonight there was a bath.
I'm talkin, bubbles (Johnson's night-time bubble bath and wash is NOT just for kids people), a spa candle, and some Magic 106.7.
Bubbles, relaxing scents and loud singing. Happy neighbors I'm sure as well.
Thanks Mr. Clean. If it wasn't for your Magic Eraser and my own admiration of my cleaning skills...this may NOT have been possible.
Well, much to my surprise when I busted out The Magic Eraser a miracle happened, the hue IS GONE. I was un-naturally happy about this. Giddy you might say.
During my next shower as I was admiring the shower floor I had a thought. Gosh, I haven't taken a bath in YEARS. Years! I wonder if this is a good tub for a bath? Hmmm.
So right there, with the water running I laid down in the shower. Yup. This would work for a bath. I laid there for a minute imagining the bath to be had. Then I sat up.
Let me tell you, if you haven't SAT in your shower while it was running you are missing out on a seriously fantastic moment. I imagine it to be a lot like sitting under a water fall in Hawaii. (Most likely because I have never been to Hawaii). It is sublime. Truly. And, a little weird. I wouldn't tell a lot of people about it..OK I would, because that is what I do but, I encourage you to have a secret moment with yourself and try it.
We did have an incident in the bathroom this week with a broken shower rod...my roomate had it fall down on her mid shower 4 times. So, she is NOT feeling as zen as I am about the tub...
However, all our 'rod woes' are fixed and tonight there was a bath.
I'm talkin, bubbles (Johnson's night-time bubble bath and wash is NOT just for kids people), a spa candle, and some Magic 106.7.
Bubbles, relaxing scents and loud singing. Happy neighbors I'm sure as well.
Thanks Mr. Clean. If it wasn't for your Magic Eraser and my own admiration of my cleaning skills...this may NOT have been possible.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
I'm sorry..Did you just hear the freezer talking?
So, here I am. Rounding out week one of my friend Elizabeth's program 'Five weeks to feeling fit and fabulous in the spotlight'. Yeah. That's right.
So, this week we had a 'Breakfast Challenge'. It was to eat 'whole foods' for breakfast. Other goals included slowing down when I eat, because somehow I have started eating like it is a speed eating contest. Apparently, I am the only one competing.
I knew these goals were attainable, I always eat a healthy breakfast, and my normal routine only needed a couple of tweaks. And by the way...I am having a love affair with Flax Seeds in my steal cut oatmeal. I know, I am a wild, wild woman.
However, with every success...there comes a challenge. Since I started college I have gained and lost the same 30 pounds a few times. I will NOT gain it again. Those times were enough.
However, when I have been successful at losing weight it has never been through a 'diet' per say. Whenever I hear the word 'diet' I become obsessed with food. All I can think about it the food I should eat, can't eat, shouldn't eat, might eat... 'accidentally ate'...It is vicious. I always get on track when I just listen to my body.
This program is NOT a diet, and I must say not too far from how I normally eat. So WHY WHY did I have a couple of moments of self sabotage? I think it is just the idea of a possible diet situation...Let me paint a picture for you.
Saturday I had a friend's graduation party. I was instructed to bring dessert. My friend Jen suggested I make her dessert pizza....yeah. You heard me. Pillsbury cresent dough with cinnamon baked, spread on some melted Nutella, top with toasted coconut, chocolate chips, white chocolate chips, and butterscotch chips. Kinda makes you want to jump off a bridge with excitement right? Well it should. It is heaven.
Jen also gave me the tip that the left over coconut is really good on ice cream.
Obviously, I had to try that--and while I was at it why not put on some of those chips that I had left over. Why not.
Fast forward to Sunday. I ate really well all day, and at night the freezer started talking to me. It was talkin' some smack about being too full, and the only way to make it happy was to finish the frozen yogurt. My freezer has always been kind to me, so who am I to not do the one thing it asked me to do?
Oh, I didn't have one, but TWO bowls of that frozen yogurt and you KNOW I topped it off with the coconut and assortment of chips.
Then I got angry. Why would I do that??? I never eat that much!!!! Clearly I did it because somewhere even though I'm not on a diet...my body HEARD diet and panicked. Good GOD.
Monday through today I have dusted myself off. I have done pretty well, and am feeling fantastic.
I did have one of those single serving mini containers of frozen yogurt that did just speak to me. I added the coconut and chips-for an experiment. And you know what? After eating really good food...it tasted like crap.
I might just be on my way to curing my sweet teeth. The goal is to whittle it down to one tooth. The good news is I have cleared the freezer of frozen yogurt. The bad news is I just admitted my freezer speaks to me.
So, this week we had a 'Breakfast Challenge'. It was to eat 'whole foods' for breakfast. Other goals included slowing down when I eat, because somehow I have started eating like it is a speed eating contest. Apparently, I am the only one competing.
I knew these goals were attainable, I always eat a healthy breakfast, and my normal routine only needed a couple of tweaks. And by the way...I am having a love affair with Flax Seeds in my steal cut oatmeal. I know, I am a wild, wild woman.
However, with every success...there comes a challenge. Since I started college I have gained and lost the same 30 pounds a few times. I will NOT gain it again. Those times were enough.
However, when I have been successful at losing weight it has never been through a 'diet' per say. Whenever I hear the word 'diet' I become obsessed with food. All I can think about it the food I should eat, can't eat, shouldn't eat, might eat... 'accidentally ate'...It is vicious. I always get on track when I just listen to my body.
This program is NOT a diet, and I must say not too far from how I normally eat. So WHY WHY did I have a couple of moments of self sabotage? I think it is just the idea of a possible diet situation...Let me paint a picture for you.
Saturday I had a friend's graduation party. I was instructed to bring dessert. My friend Jen suggested I make her dessert pizza....yeah. You heard me. Pillsbury cresent dough with cinnamon baked, spread on some melted Nutella, top with toasted coconut, chocolate chips, white chocolate chips, and butterscotch chips. Kinda makes you want to jump off a bridge with excitement right? Well it should. It is heaven.
Jen also gave me the tip that the left over coconut is really good on ice cream.
Obviously, I had to try that--and while I was at it why not put on some of those chips that I had left over. Why not.
Fast forward to Sunday. I ate really well all day, and at night the freezer started talking to me. It was talkin' some smack about being too full, and the only way to make it happy was to finish the frozen yogurt. My freezer has always been kind to me, so who am I to not do the one thing it asked me to do?
Oh, I didn't have one, but TWO bowls of that frozen yogurt and you KNOW I topped it off with the coconut and assortment of chips.
Then I got angry. Why would I do that??? I never eat that much!!!! Clearly I did it because somewhere even though I'm not on a diet...my body HEARD diet and panicked. Good GOD.
Monday through today I have dusted myself off. I have done pretty well, and am feeling fantastic.
I did have one of those single serving mini containers of frozen yogurt that did just speak to me. I added the coconut and chips-for an experiment. And you know what? After eating really good food...it tasted like crap.
I might just be on my way to curing my sweet teeth. The goal is to whittle it down to one tooth. The good news is I have cleared the freezer of frozen yogurt. The bad news is I just admitted my freezer speaks to me.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Bees are NOT bracelets.
You would think that my adventures with Pitch Pipe Paul (click if you missed it) would have been enough for one day. You would think.
But, let's be real. That's not how I roll people.
When I finally gave up at Starbucks and decided to run some errands my first stop was the bank. I walked in and noticed I was the only patron there and there were about 10 people working. They all said hello and welcomed me to the bank..it kinda felt like a surprise party.
I also noticed something was tickling my wrist. So, I shook it. Then I noticed something pinching my wrist. I was in mid sentence so I just reached down to fix my bracelet which was obviously getting caught in the little hairs on my arm, pinching my skin.
Except, I was not wearing a bracelet. When I reached down the grab the bracelet the yellow jacket that had been stinging my wrist fired another warning shot into my finger. I was being repeatedly stung by one pissed off bee.
This is where things go a little fuzzy for me. This is where things looked a little um..crazy to the people in the bank.
Actually, I think started talking..OK yelling to myself. And, of course because most of lifes problems can be solved with an artful drop of the f-bomb, see here, I of course did a lot of that. It went a little like this:
What the F&*!
OH MY GOD A BEE IS STINGING ME! What the F*&!
You F*&-er!!!! Get the F*&! off of me!!!
AHHH, SERIOUSLY I am flicking you the F&*! off me!! (I don't know why I gave the bee a warning either...I kinda felt bad)
I flicked the bee off me and looked up and remembered I wasn't alone.
'Um..yeah. I just got the crap stung out of me by that bee. Sorry, didn't mean to flick it at you guys...'
Someone came and squashed him because he was good as dead on the ground. I don't kill bugs. Unless they F*&! with me. That is a true story. He would have been fine if he just buzzed off. However, 4 stings--yeah. 4. That's my personal bee sting limit.
Now the bank people are concerned, they want to get me peroxide. Seriously? Do we think he is a big unsanitary bee?
No thank you.
Can we get you anything?
No, I think I'm OK.
Well, after you're done with your banking, just, umm..hang around for a minute.
I'm sure they were afraid I was allergic or something and didn't want me to sue them if I died on my drive home. However, I don't really think I have grounds to take legal action over the bee who stung me mostly because he is pissed it's cold and he was about to die.
I wasn't sure how long they expected me to hang around, but when the manager came out with an alcohol swap for me and I mentioned that might cause more pain than relief I decided they were not the nursing type and it was time to go do my grocery shopping.
In the car I examined my swollen finger and wrist. 3 welts on my wrist, one swollen finger.
Bee 4, Ali 1.
If my life keeps throwing these curve balls at me, I seriously need a more appropriate go to word. Sometimes it just feels so good..especially in the midst of a bee attack!
But, let's be real. That's not how I roll people.
When I finally gave up at Starbucks and decided to run some errands my first stop was the bank. I walked in and noticed I was the only patron there and there were about 10 people working. They all said hello and welcomed me to the bank..it kinda felt like a surprise party.
I also noticed something was tickling my wrist. So, I shook it. Then I noticed something pinching my wrist. I was in mid sentence so I just reached down to fix my bracelet which was obviously getting caught in the little hairs on my arm, pinching my skin.
Except, I was not wearing a bracelet. When I reached down the grab the bracelet the yellow jacket that had been stinging my wrist fired another warning shot into my finger. I was being repeatedly stung by one pissed off bee.
This is where things go a little fuzzy for me. This is where things looked a little um..crazy to the people in the bank.
Actually, I think started talking..OK yelling to myself. And, of course because most of lifes problems can be solved with an artful drop of the f-bomb, see here, I of course did a lot of that. It went a little like this:
What the F&*!
OH MY GOD A BEE IS STINGING ME! What the F*&!
You F*&-er!!!! Get the F*&! off of me!!!
AHHH, SERIOUSLY I am flicking you the F&*! off me!! (I don't know why I gave the bee a warning either...I kinda felt bad)
I flicked the bee off me and looked up and remembered I wasn't alone.
'Um..yeah. I just got the crap stung out of me by that bee. Sorry, didn't mean to flick it at you guys...'
Someone came and squashed him because he was good as dead on the ground. I don't kill bugs. Unless they F*&! with me. That is a true story. He would have been fine if he just buzzed off. However, 4 stings--yeah. 4. That's my personal bee sting limit.
Now the bank people are concerned, they want to get me peroxide. Seriously? Do we think he is a big unsanitary bee?
No thank you.
Can we get you anything?
No, I think I'm OK.
Well, after you're done with your banking, just, umm..hang around for a minute.
I'm sure they were afraid I was allergic or something and didn't want me to sue them if I died on my drive home. However, I don't really think I have grounds to take legal action over the bee who stung me mostly because he is pissed it's cold and he was about to die.
I wasn't sure how long they expected me to hang around, but when the manager came out with an alcohol swap for me and I mentioned that might cause more pain than relief I decided they were not the nursing type and it was time to go do my grocery shopping.
In the car I examined my swollen finger and wrist. 3 welts on my wrist, one swollen finger.
Bee 4, Ali 1.
If my life keeps throwing these curve balls at me, I seriously need a more appropriate go to word. Sometimes it just feels so good..especially in the midst of a bee attack!
Monday, October 18, 2010
It all started with the best of intentions.
Today I decided I could not sit in the house and work on things I needed to get done. I needed a change of scenery. I also needed some coffee and free Wifi. Clearly, Starbucks sounded like a great fit.
When I walked in I was immediately struck that I was not the only person without a day job as almost every table was taken up, and every outlet to plug my computer in was taken as well... Small snag. I knew people would have to clear out soon though. I took the last table, got my coffee and started reading.
I'm easily distracted. I've been known to start 5 projects at once and I am no stranger to people watching, awkward staring, or zoning out on a wall.
When a mom with her adorable 7 month old (yes, I asked) and 4 year old pulled up next to me I knew I had to keep my eyes open for another table..and an outlet. And the baby starts crying.
Eventually I see my opportunity and settle in to a corner. I look up and said mother is now breast feeding. I'm not judging. I'm just saying.
There is a heated discussion in another language going on to my left. This doesn't bother me as much because I don't know what they are talking about so I can't think of my opinion. I start to concentrate.
Then I decide to text.
Then I notice the man behind me is singing in a foreign language snapping his fingers. I figured this would go on for a couple of minutes and then stop. It didn't. It hasn't. He actually pulled out a PITCH PIPE and used it--you know, the little round horn type things you blow into to make sure you are on key. Yeah. He wants to make sure he is on key while singing in the middle of Starbucks. For real.
Did I mention the snapping?
Oh, and I just turned around, he is now standing up playing a drum beat on the table, shaking his hips and tapping his leg. Clearly my only options are to join in or leave...Decisions, decisions..
When I walked in I was immediately struck that I was not the only person without a day job as almost every table was taken up, and every outlet to plug my computer in was taken as well... Small snag. I knew people would have to clear out soon though. I took the last table, got my coffee and started reading.
I'm easily distracted. I've been known to start 5 projects at once and I am no stranger to people watching, awkward staring, or zoning out on a wall.
When a mom with her adorable 7 month old (yes, I asked) and 4 year old pulled up next to me I knew I had to keep my eyes open for another table..and an outlet. And the baby starts crying.
Eventually I see my opportunity and settle in to a corner. I look up and said mother is now breast feeding. I'm not judging. I'm just saying.
There is a heated discussion in another language going on to my left. This doesn't bother me as much because I don't know what they are talking about so I can't think of my opinion. I start to concentrate.
Then I decide to text.
Then I notice the man behind me is singing in a foreign language snapping his fingers. I figured this would go on for a couple of minutes and then stop. It didn't. It hasn't. He actually pulled out a PITCH PIPE and used it--you know, the little round horn type things you blow into to make sure you are on key. Yeah. He wants to make sure he is on key while singing in the middle of Starbucks. For real.
Did I mention the snapping?
Oh, and I just turned around, he is now standing up playing a drum beat on the table, shaking his hips and tapping his leg. Clearly my only options are to join in or leave...Decisions, decisions..
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Today I am thankful not to be...
In the spirit of being thankful, I want to reflect on something I am really thankful I am not. This post is a little late to the party, and I'm sure it's things a lot of people have already said. However, I gotta say of all the things I wish I was a Chilean Miner is not one of them. Scratch that. ANY kind of Miner.
I am so thankful to NOT BE A MINER. I do wish I was a MINOR sometimes as I am not getting carded at an alarming rate these days..but, I digress.
First of all in general going deep into the earth to..well.. mine, doesn't sound like fun to me. It's dark, hot, moist, gross. I don't think I am cut out to do the work. But, throw in getting trapped way below the earth's surface might top my list of 'things I would not like to do this lifetime'. It may top my anti-bucket list.
When I hear that they didn't even know for over 2 weeks if they would get out, that itself would have made be go coo-coo and lose my sh&%!, I am in a cold sweat thinking about it. If I even survived that long when they did find me and told me I may have to wait 4 months to get out...I'm not sure that would be comforting to me. I imagine in my mind finding that super human strength that some people get when they move cars off their trapped children. I think I would be able to climb my way out. I'm serious.
Add to the fact that when they DID get out early they had to come up in a crazy tube ALONE. Forget it. I can't sit in the 93 tunnel in traffic without having an anxiety attack! If you missed that one you can find that gem here .
As I watched the dateline special of all the miners coming out (of course I was crying), I sent a text to MFC (my favorite carpenter if you haven't been following) saying I was really glad he was not a Chilean Miner as well. Somehow that sentiment doesn't translate well over text message...it sounds weird. Trust me on this one.
Some people say 'Hey, I like you. When you're gone, I kinda miss you'. Or you know..something of the sort. I say 'I'm really glad you're not a Chilean Miner right now'.
Yeah. I'm an adventure.
I am so thankful to NOT BE A MINER. I do wish I was a MINOR sometimes as I am not getting carded at an alarming rate these days..but, I digress.
First of all in general going deep into the earth to..well.. mine, doesn't sound like fun to me. It's dark, hot, moist, gross. I don't think I am cut out to do the work. But, throw in getting trapped way below the earth's surface might top my list of 'things I would not like to do this lifetime'. It may top my anti-bucket list.
When I hear that they didn't even know for over 2 weeks if they would get out, that itself would have made be go coo-coo and lose my sh&%!, I am in a cold sweat thinking about it. If I even survived that long when they did find me and told me I may have to wait 4 months to get out...I'm not sure that would be comforting to me. I imagine in my mind finding that super human strength that some people get when they move cars off their trapped children. I think I would be able to climb my way out. I'm serious.
Add to the fact that when they DID get out early they had to come up in a crazy tube ALONE. Forget it. I can't sit in the 93 tunnel in traffic without having an anxiety attack! If you missed that one you can find that gem here .
As I watched the dateline special of all the miners coming out (of course I was crying), I sent a text to MFC (my favorite carpenter if you haven't been following) saying I was really glad he was not a Chilean Miner as well. Somehow that sentiment doesn't translate well over text message...it sounds weird. Trust me on this one.
Some people say 'Hey, I like you. When you're gone, I kinda miss you'. Or you know..something of the sort. I say 'I'm really glad you're not a Chilean Miner right now'.
Yeah. I'm an adventure.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Things are about to get real.
So, in keeping with my theme of a year of change I am embarking on another adventure. I'm not going to lie, it may get dicey. I figure most things in my life are decidedly uprooted and evolving so why not add something else to the mix?
I have been feeling lately like my body has been...off. I can't put my finger on it. I gained 5 pounds, I mean I can put my finger on THAT. I can probably pinch an inch of that! However, when I look back to a year ago I was this weight, and I was happy and felt like I looked good. I have only really been that 5 pounds lighter in times of stress- when my grandfather passed, calling off my wedding-- you know really good times.
So, in reality five pounds less should equal bad. This five pounds should mean good. In reality I'm probably the only one who notices it, but I notice it. It's obnoxious.
But, I am not talking about it to be all 'wah, wahhh I'm fat'. No no no. I'm more concerned with my preoccupation with it.
So, I've been going crazy at the gym, trying to eat 'right' and my body is like 'Hey, Al I LOVE this five pounds. I love it so much I will fight you for it.'
This is when I saw my old high school friend *Elizabeth post on Facebook that she was going to be hosting a conference call talking about what she does and what it could do for me...when I say 'me' I mean, 'me' as we are ALL 'me' on facebook..like 'you'. What can she do for 'YOU'...'ME'..you know what I'm sayin'? Good. Me either.
Anyways, I listened in on this call and realized it is exactly what I need right now.
In an effort not to get all earthy crunchy cum-bah-ya on you the premise is basically eating 'whole foods', no processed stuff, limiting sugars, being mindful of eating, self aware, self caring and doing things for my body that feed it emotionally, physically and nutritionally.
This should be interesting. Not because I eat lots of chips and packaged foods..but, there is a cleanse involved. This will involve cutting out sugar, gluten, dairy, and a few other things I forget for 7 days.
I figured, I'm already definitely decaf...why not be definitely sugar free/gluten free/ dairy free for a few days.
The sugar scares me. I have a sweet tooth like you read about. If you haven't read about it..see below. Yeah. You just did.
I start the first 'goal' tomorrow. Eating a whole food breakfast.
I suddenly had the urge tonight to rebel. I was getting things ready to make this fabulous 'dessert pizza' for a party tomorrow...this involved me toasting coconut, and opening packages of chocolate chips, butterscotch chips, and white chocolate chips. Before I knew it...All of the above were atop a lovely bowl of frozen yogurt.
When Definitely Decaf starts to sound 'Definitely Angry'...then you will know that sugar is out.
SAVE YOURSELVES!
If you are interested in learning more about fabulous Elizabeth--who is in fact fabulous even if she wears devil horns as she takes sugar away from me, PLEASE check her out here .
I will probably post a bit about this process, and Elizabeth is NOT paying me to write about it..just an FYI. She is the real deal. Always has been!
I have been feeling lately like my body has been...off. I can't put my finger on it. I gained 5 pounds, I mean I can put my finger on THAT. I can probably pinch an inch of that! However, when I look back to a year ago I was this weight, and I was happy and felt like I looked good. I have only really been that 5 pounds lighter in times of stress- when my grandfather passed, calling off my wedding-- you know really good times.
So, in reality five pounds less should equal bad. This five pounds should mean good. In reality I'm probably the only one who notices it, but I notice it. It's obnoxious.
But, I am not talking about it to be all 'wah, wahhh I'm fat'. No no no. I'm more concerned with my preoccupation with it.
So, I've been going crazy at the gym, trying to eat 'right' and my body is like 'Hey, Al I LOVE this five pounds. I love it so much I will fight you for it.'
This is when I saw my old high school friend *Elizabeth post on Facebook that she was going to be hosting a conference call talking about what she does and what it could do for me...when I say 'me' I mean, 'me' as we are ALL 'me' on facebook..like 'you'. What can she do for 'YOU'...'ME'..you know what I'm sayin'? Good. Me either.
Anyways, I listened in on this call and realized it is exactly what I need right now.
In an effort not to get all earthy crunchy cum-bah-ya on you the premise is basically eating 'whole foods', no processed stuff, limiting sugars, being mindful of eating, self aware, self caring and doing things for my body that feed it emotionally, physically and nutritionally.
This should be interesting. Not because I eat lots of chips and packaged foods..but, there is a cleanse involved. This will involve cutting out sugar, gluten, dairy, and a few other things I forget for 7 days.
I figured, I'm already definitely decaf...why not be definitely sugar free/gluten free/ dairy free for a few days.
The sugar scares me. I have a sweet tooth like you read about. If you haven't read about it..see below. Yeah. You just did.
I start the first 'goal' tomorrow. Eating a whole food breakfast.
I suddenly had the urge tonight to rebel. I was getting things ready to make this fabulous 'dessert pizza' for a party tomorrow...this involved me toasting coconut, and opening packages of chocolate chips, butterscotch chips, and white chocolate chips. Before I knew it...All of the above were atop a lovely bowl of frozen yogurt.
When Definitely Decaf starts to sound 'Definitely Angry'...then you will know that sugar is out.
SAVE YOURSELVES!
If you are interested in learning more about fabulous Elizabeth--who is in fact fabulous even if she wears devil horns as she takes sugar away from me, PLEASE check her out here .
I will probably post a bit about this process, and Elizabeth is NOT paying me to write about it..just an FYI. She is the real deal. Always has been!
Monday, October 11, 2010
Sucking it up.
If you have been following my blog from the beginning, I think we can all agree this has been quite a year of change. In terms of my 'blog year'..I think I started last December, just the last ten months has been a pattern of dramatic shifts.
I have definitely become more self aware, hopefully not to be confused with self centered. Friday was a defining moment.
I teach dance for a woman who once was my dance teacher in High School and owns her own studio now. She knows I have a bit of time right now as I am in between jobs and told me about a 'Master Dance Class' in 'Musical Theatre Dance' that was to be hosted at one of her dance teacher meetings. The class was open. I haven't really taken a dance class in quite some time, I was in.
I figured it was an hour.
When I arrived the meeting was still going on and I was chatting with a really nice girl whom I assumed was my age outside of the dance space. She was in from Philadelphia and her family owns a dance school in Massachusetts. Great. I know I'm rusty.
She tells me the town she grew up in--right next door to my home town. I know lots of people from her town. 'What year did you graduate?'
'05'.
Me: 'oh..yeah..I've got a couple of years on you..' I mentally do the math and cringe that I assumed we were the same age..
Girl: 'Oh, well my sister graduated in '03!'
Me: 'Yeah...still older'.
I was out of college before her and her sister graduated High School. Great. I'm going into this class with young, cute girls who are still actively dancing. Awesome.
Then we found out that he was not teaching Musical Theatre Dance...he wanted to do 'Contemporary Ballet'.
When you haven't taken a class in years and you show up for a Master Class and someone says Ballet..it is a totally natural reaction to want to crap your pants.
Ballet is not something to just jump into one day. Trust me on this one.
So, I suck it up and go in. I was pleasantly surprised to find that his version of Contemporary Ballet is very free form, and I am doing fine. His movement is comfortable to me. He is easy on the eyes and the age range of the class was mainly about 23-50-ish. I'm totally fine.
Until his first combination about an hour into class. Yeah. I thought class was an hour. It ended up being 2 hours.
Anyways, because I have been out of the class so long I am having a hard time picking up the routine quickly. Did I mention I'm competitive? I have a real problem when I don't feel like I am one of the best in the class. It pisses me off. I want to be the best or I don't want to do it. This is NOT a pretty side of me.
He then says the words almost everyone hates to hear : Let's do this in two groups.
Now, I have no problem with an instructor or any of the people watching knowing that I am struggling. I gave into that feeling. I DID however, have a problem with my dancing peers seeing me struggle. The jig is up. They are all gonna know that I suck. I have the urge to go up to the front of the class and say 'um I just want to let you guys know that I KNOW I am rusty. I know that I have not picked up the routine yet, and I am OK with you laughing at me. At one point I was a super quick learner and had great technique. Today is not that day..but, don't think I don't know!'.
I did not do this.
So, he puts on the music and the first group goes. I make the decision that I am just going to sit it out. I don't need to embarrass myself. I am all set. I am hostile. I'm mad at myself and embarrassed in my own head, I'm certainly not going to make an ass out of myself.
This is when I take a good look to my right. I see Nicole, a girl I used to have in dance class a couple of years ago. I want to say she is between 8 and 10. Her mom let her take the class. Nicole was watching me according to her mother the whole class because she was used to watching me..I told her mom to tell Nicole to 'save herself' I was no one to be watching today!
However, I thought in that moment about my choice to sit out. If she was in my class and wanted me to sit out, I would have been really mad. I would have had her sit in the front of the room and would have been super disappointed. I would have told her to try. I would have told her not to worry about what everyone else thought, and this is your moment for yourself. If you don't get the routine who cares? There will be another one that you WILL get, and you are doing yourself a dis-service by sitting out.
What kind of example was I about to set? Not a good one.
I jumped in with the second group. I messed up more times than I care to count. But, I did it.
I'm not 23. I'm not 25..I'm 30 years old. Time to swallow my pride, grow up and grow a pair.
So..turns out I wasn't the best. But, I finished the class. I felt good, and I have new resolve to take more dance classes. Even if I am not the best anymore, it feels good. If there is one thing I have learned this year is that not enough time has been spent on things that feel good. And another thing...apparently when you are an adult you are suppose to set examples. Go figure.
I have definitely become more self aware, hopefully not to be confused with self centered. Friday was a defining moment.
I teach dance for a woman who once was my dance teacher in High School and owns her own studio now. She knows I have a bit of time right now as I am in between jobs and told me about a 'Master Dance Class' in 'Musical Theatre Dance' that was to be hosted at one of her dance teacher meetings. The class was open. I haven't really taken a dance class in quite some time, I was in.
I figured it was an hour.
When I arrived the meeting was still going on and I was chatting with a really nice girl whom I assumed was my age outside of the dance space. She was in from Philadelphia and her family owns a dance school in Massachusetts. Great. I know I'm rusty.
She tells me the town she grew up in--right next door to my home town. I know lots of people from her town. 'What year did you graduate?'
'05'.
Me: 'oh..yeah..I've got a couple of years on you..' I mentally do the math and cringe that I assumed we were the same age..
Girl: 'Oh, well my sister graduated in '03!'
Me: 'Yeah...still older'.
I was out of college before her and her sister graduated High School. Great. I'm going into this class with young, cute girls who are still actively dancing. Awesome.
Then we found out that he was not teaching Musical Theatre Dance...he wanted to do 'Contemporary Ballet'.
When you haven't taken a class in years and you show up for a Master Class and someone says Ballet..it is a totally natural reaction to want to crap your pants.
Ballet is not something to just jump into one day. Trust me on this one.
So, I suck it up and go in. I was pleasantly surprised to find that his version of Contemporary Ballet is very free form, and I am doing fine. His movement is comfortable to me. He is easy on the eyes and the age range of the class was mainly about 23-50-ish. I'm totally fine.
Until his first combination about an hour into class. Yeah. I thought class was an hour. It ended up being 2 hours.
Anyways, because I have been out of the class so long I am having a hard time picking up the routine quickly. Did I mention I'm competitive? I have a real problem when I don't feel like I am one of the best in the class. It pisses me off. I want to be the best or I don't want to do it. This is NOT a pretty side of me.
He then says the words almost everyone hates to hear : Let's do this in two groups.
Now, I have no problem with an instructor or any of the people watching knowing that I am struggling. I gave into that feeling. I DID however, have a problem with my dancing peers seeing me struggle. The jig is up. They are all gonna know that I suck. I have the urge to go up to the front of the class and say 'um I just want to let you guys know that I KNOW I am rusty. I know that I have not picked up the routine yet, and I am OK with you laughing at me. At one point I was a super quick learner and had great technique. Today is not that day..but, don't think I don't know!'.
I did not do this.
So, he puts on the music and the first group goes. I make the decision that I am just going to sit it out. I don't need to embarrass myself. I am all set. I am hostile. I'm mad at myself and embarrassed in my own head, I'm certainly not going to make an ass out of myself.
This is when I take a good look to my right. I see Nicole, a girl I used to have in dance class a couple of years ago. I want to say she is between 8 and 10. Her mom let her take the class. Nicole was watching me according to her mother the whole class because she was used to watching me..I told her mom to tell Nicole to 'save herself' I was no one to be watching today!
However, I thought in that moment about my choice to sit out. If she was in my class and wanted me to sit out, I would have been really mad. I would have had her sit in the front of the room and would have been super disappointed. I would have told her to try. I would have told her not to worry about what everyone else thought, and this is your moment for yourself. If you don't get the routine who cares? There will be another one that you WILL get, and you are doing yourself a dis-service by sitting out.
What kind of example was I about to set? Not a good one.
I jumped in with the second group. I messed up more times than I care to count. But, I did it.
I'm not 23. I'm not 25..I'm 30 years old. Time to swallow my pride, grow up and grow a pair.
So..turns out I wasn't the best. But, I finished the class. I felt good, and I have new resolve to take more dance classes. Even if I am not the best anymore, it feels good. If there is one thing I have learned this year is that not enough time has been spent on things that feel good. And another thing...apparently when you are an adult you are suppose to set examples. Go figure.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Wondering Wednesday: I'm up! I swear!
This Wednesday I am wondering....what is the big secret about sleeping? It's not a shameful act. We all do it, hopefully everyday. It isn't even an embarrassing thing to do!
So, why when my phone rang this morning and I realized I overslept a bit and decided to answer my friends call that the following occured:
1. I mentally prepared myself to give my best 'I've been up since 3AM cleaning the house, doing laundry, saving stray puppies, and you just caught me in the middle of my 99th set of jumping jacks' voice. I WILL sound alert. I'm up.
2. I cleared my throat to really prepare
3. When I answered I was proud of how awake I sounded
4. She said: 'OH GOD! I guess I woke you up! I'm sorry!' (Damn it!)
5. My initial response is to say- 'Oh, no! I'm up! You didn't wake me!'
For the record I did not follow through with #5 like I usually do. I admitted that it was raining and I totally had fallen back to sleep--which is really out of character for me..and I was annoyed with myself, but it felt so good!
I told her I was giving my best 'I'm totally awake voice' did I sound awake? She told me 'umm..no.'
I'm starting to think the fake awake voice is like most people who sing in the shower. It sounds really good in your head-- you really sound like..say..Celine Dion in the shower, but your spouse, friends, roomate, family, local robbers, neighbors beg to differ.
So again, now I wonder why do we lie about the sleep? No one will be offended, no one (unless it's your boss and your late for work) will be mad at you for sleeping.
I've even done it in the middle of the night when someone has called--No! It's 2:30AM, I'm SO AWAKE! This insomnia is crazy!
Maybe we feel bad about making the other person on the other end feel uncomfortable for waking us up? But, we've all also been that person--you feel bad, but it isn't going to make you cry or ruin your day!
Can we stop the madness and just say 'Yes, you woke me. I was sleeping. However, when I saw it was you calling I decided I was done sleeping and I did in fact want to talk to you!' Wouldn't that make everyone feel good?
OR even if you just said 'Um, I'm sorry I just woke up, or was sleeping. I answered the phone while I was dreaming and I have no idea what just happened in the last 3 minutes of our conversation..I'm not even positive who I am talking to or what I have told you about my life. (You know we have all been there too) Can I call you back in a little bit?'
Just wonderin'.
So, why when my phone rang this morning and I realized I overslept a bit and decided to answer my friends call that the following occured:
1. I mentally prepared myself to give my best 'I've been up since 3AM cleaning the house, doing laundry, saving stray puppies, and you just caught me in the middle of my 99th set of jumping jacks' voice. I WILL sound alert. I'm up.
2. I cleared my throat to really prepare
3. When I answered I was proud of how awake I sounded
4. She said: 'OH GOD! I guess I woke you up! I'm sorry!' (Damn it!)
5. My initial response is to say- 'Oh, no! I'm up! You didn't wake me!'
For the record I did not follow through with #5 like I usually do. I admitted that it was raining and I totally had fallen back to sleep--which is really out of character for me..and I was annoyed with myself, but it felt so good!
I told her I was giving my best 'I'm totally awake voice' did I sound awake? She told me 'umm..no.'
I'm starting to think the fake awake voice is like most people who sing in the shower. It sounds really good in your head-- you really sound like..say..Celine Dion in the shower, but your spouse, friends, roomate, family, local robbers, neighbors beg to differ.
So again, now I wonder why do we lie about the sleep? No one will be offended, no one (unless it's your boss and your late for work) will be mad at you for sleeping.
I've even done it in the middle of the night when someone has called--No! It's 2:30AM, I'm SO AWAKE! This insomnia is crazy!
Maybe we feel bad about making the other person on the other end feel uncomfortable for waking us up? But, we've all also been that person--you feel bad, but it isn't going to make you cry or ruin your day!
Can we stop the madness and just say 'Yes, you woke me. I was sleeping. However, when I saw it was you calling I decided I was done sleeping and I did in fact want to talk to you!' Wouldn't that make everyone feel good?
OR even if you just said 'Um, I'm sorry I just woke up, or was sleeping. I answered the phone while I was dreaming and I have no idea what just happened in the last 3 minutes of our conversation..I'm not even positive who I am talking to or what I have told you about my life. (You know we have all been there too) Can I call you back in a little bit?'
Just wonderin'.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Survival of the fittest?
This morning at the gym running I decided I was going to jump in on the Pilates class going on. I've taken pilates before and I know it is no joke-at ALL. But, I'm not gonna lie I was feeling a little cocky when I walked in and met Susan.
She did not appear to be very fit, and she wasted no time telling me she was close to the wall because she broke her pinky finger. I'm not entirely sure how these two thoughts fit together, but to her they made total sense and I didn't want to question. We chatted about how she did it and I got a full lay out of all of her ailments. We all know a Susan don't we?
Not to be out done, I shared a bit of my incident with the glass in my foot. She was concerned about my last tetanus shot, and of course of my impending infection. She made me a little paranoid.
Enter the teacher. A very fit older woman who has a few kids and grandchildren.
She has recently had a full hip replacement on her right side. I think to myself, PLEASE. I've GOT this class. I've got grandma and an artificial hip teaching me, and polly paranoia with her broken finger.
The next participant was a younger woman who I saw running earlier and I figured she was my competition....NOT that it is a competition. Right? Right. Not at all.
The next woman spoke no English--she was fit and adorable. However, I thought I had the advantage with the language barrier and all. I was going to be fine.
Yeah. I don't know what happened. It was a great class, yet one that I could not get through without stopping multiple times because my muscles were screaming inappropriate things at me. I kept looking at the clock thinking..did someone stop it?? It must be broken. That was NOT only 3 minutes.
The clock was fine. My ass was getting kicked by hypochondria superior to my right, and grandma with a plastic hip.
I feel awesome. Did I mention it is not a competition?
On another note I wanted to share some funny Google search words/phrases that have taken people to this blog:
-Yummy Feet
-Piggyback rides
-Pumas and cougars
I'm not sure I've talked about piggyback rides or yummy feet..but, whatever gets you here, I'm happy to have you in my crazy little world!
She did not appear to be very fit, and she wasted no time telling me she was close to the wall because she broke her pinky finger. I'm not entirely sure how these two thoughts fit together, but to her they made total sense and I didn't want to question. We chatted about how she did it and I got a full lay out of all of her ailments. We all know a Susan don't we?
Not to be out done, I shared a bit of my incident with the glass in my foot. She was concerned about my last tetanus shot, and of course of my impending infection. She made me a little paranoid.
Enter the teacher. A very fit older woman who has a few kids and grandchildren.
She has recently had a full hip replacement on her right side. I think to myself, PLEASE. I've GOT this class. I've got grandma and an artificial hip teaching me, and polly paranoia with her broken finger.
The next participant was a younger woman who I saw running earlier and I figured she was my competition....NOT that it is a competition. Right? Right. Not at all.
The next woman spoke no English--she was fit and adorable. However, I thought I had the advantage with the language barrier and all. I was going to be fine.
Yeah. I don't know what happened. It was a great class, yet one that I could not get through without stopping multiple times because my muscles were screaming inappropriate things at me. I kept looking at the clock thinking..did someone stop it?? It must be broken. That was NOT only 3 minutes.
The clock was fine. My ass was getting kicked by hypochondria superior to my right, and grandma with a plastic hip.
I feel awesome. Did I mention it is not a competition?
On another note I wanted to share some funny Google search words/phrases that have taken people to this blog:
-Yummy Feet
-Piggyback rides
-Pumas and cougars
I'm not sure I've talked about piggyback rides or yummy feet..but, whatever gets you here, I'm happy to have you in my crazy little world!
Sunday, October 3, 2010
and it feels just like I'm walkin' on broken glass...
Anyone else know that song? But, seriously.
Last night was a night of celebration for one of my best friends. She is taking the dive into thirty and last night was to be a pub crawl in Fanuiel Hall.
Before said crawl, I taught my dance classes, ran some errands and was cleaning up and doing stuff around the house. I had on my music pretty loud and there may have been dancing. I was plotting my outfit for the night which was going to include a fantastic pair of shoes that has only made it out of the house one other time. Trust me when I say they are ridiculous. At just about 5'9, I have no business or need for shoes this high. They are strappy and black and probably say a lot of things about me that I am not...they may have zippers and some sort of tassles. I love them. Anyways.
So, I was alone in the house. I had pulled out the full length mirror for when Siobhan and I were going to get ready..and I *may* have decided to dance in front of it, perhaps to practice my moves for the night. (Hey! I was alone!)
I should now tell you that during a storm the other day a vase that was next to my bed met it's demise with a gust of wind shattering it to a million tiny pieces on my hardwood bedroom floor. I thought I had swept up all the bits of glass...
When I stepped up to the mirror for my dance solo...I realized I was wrong. I felt the unmistakable stab of a tiny piece of glass in my foot.
I immediately remembered a story I think my best friend told me-- that one of her relatives got glass in his blood stream and it went to his heart and killed him. Naturally, I am sure death is imminent. Maybe I have about ten minutes left to live. I want to cry.
I pulled out the tweezers got a flashlight and tried to coax it out. A little bit of blood and no relief later I called it quits as I had to shower. I got ready to go out and by the time I was done, there were troops at my house.
Enter my surgical team: Siobhan and her friend who had just finished 2 pitchers of beer over a late lunch, and my favorite carpenter. (We were all going together to the crawl in the hall.)
I told my team about my foot, I had told my favorite carpenter (from now on referred to as MFC) that he could not look at my foot..they were badly in need of a pedicure. However, by the time Siobhan and her friend arrived on the scene, I was really concerned about my shoe situation and the dancing. I couldn't dance like this, or really walk normally.
Before I knew it my foot was up on our kitchen island a flashlight was out and my super buzzed roomate had a pair of tweezers on my foot. It was not working. Also, why was I letting drunk people get up in my feet? This is when MFC decided he was going to take over, this is when I decided that was a good idea. Until he said what he needed was a utility knife. Apparently as confirmed by Siobhan's friend..that's what guys do.
Thank God we didn't have a utility knife I thought. That is so not happening.
That's when Siobhan pulled one out of our drawer. Great.
This is also when I realized I really trust MFC. I mean, as he sat there slicing chunks out of my foot in search of the piece of glass there has to be a level of trust.
He got my foot to a place where I was sure the glass was out.
I sorta felt like he saved me life... you know.. 'cause I was dying and all.
This morning when I stepped out of bed, I felt that nasty little stab again. This is a case for my mother who prescribed a soak with salt, and some tape to try and grab it. Again, my foot feels OK.
So, if you are wondering here is what you need to get glass out of your foot:
1. A utility knife
2. MFC (or someone similar who knows how to work it)
3. Some rubbing alcohol to sterilize the tools
4. 2 drunk roomates/friends
5. Salt
6. Tupperwear with warm water
7. Packing tape.
I'm hoping I won't lose my foot after infection sets in.
Last night was a night of celebration for one of my best friends. She is taking the dive into thirty and last night was to be a pub crawl in Fanuiel Hall.
Before said crawl, I taught my dance classes, ran some errands and was cleaning up and doing stuff around the house. I had on my music pretty loud and there may have been dancing. I was plotting my outfit for the night which was going to include a fantastic pair of shoes that has only made it out of the house one other time. Trust me when I say they are ridiculous. At just about 5'9, I have no business or need for shoes this high. They are strappy and black and probably say a lot of things about me that I am not...they may have zippers and some sort of tassles. I love them. Anyways.
So, I was alone in the house. I had pulled out the full length mirror for when Siobhan and I were going to get ready..and I *may* have decided to dance in front of it, perhaps to practice my moves for the night. (Hey! I was alone!)
I should now tell you that during a storm the other day a vase that was next to my bed met it's demise with a gust of wind shattering it to a million tiny pieces on my hardwood bedroom floor. I thought I had swept up all the bits of glass...
When I stepped up to the mirror for my dance solo...I realized I was wrong. I felt the unmistakable stab of a tiny piece of glass in my foot.
I immediately remembered a story I think my best friend told me-- that one of her relatives got glass in his blood stream and it went to his heart and killed him. Naturally, I am sure death is imminent. Maybe I have about ten minutes left to live. I want to cry.
I pulled out the tweezers got a flashlight and tried to coax it out. A little bit of blood and no relief later I called it quits as I had to shower. I got ready to go out and by the time I was done, there were troops at my house.
Enter my surgical team: Siobhan and her friend who had just finished 2 pitchers of beer over a late lunch, and my favorite carpenter. (We were all going together to the crawl in the hall.)
I told my team about my foot, I had told my favorite carpenter (from now on referred to as MFC) that he could not look at my foot..they were badly in need of a pedicure. However, by the time Siobhan and her friend arrived on the scene, I was really concerned about my shoe situation and the dancing. I couldn't dance like this, or really walk normally.
Before I knew it my foot was up on our kitchen island a flashlight was out and my super buzzed roomate had a pair of tweezers on my foot. It was not working. Also, why was I letting drunk people get up in my feet? This is when MFC decided he was going to take over, this is when I decided that was a good idea. Until he said what he needed was a utility knife. Apparently as confirmed by Siobhan's friend..that's what guys do.
Thank God we didn't have a utility knife I thought. That is so not happening.
That's when Siobhan pulled one out of our drawer. Great.
This is also when I realized I really trust MFC. I mean, as he sat there slicing chunks out of my foot in search of the piece of glass there has to be a level of trust.
He got my foot to a place where I was sure the glass was out.
I sorta felt like he saved me life... you know.. 'cause I was dying and all.
This morning when I stepped out of bed, I felt that nasty little stab again. This is a case for my mother who prescribed a soak with salt, and some tape to try and grab it. Again, my foot feels OK.
So, if you are wondering here is what you need to get glass out of your foot:
1. A utility knife
2. MFC (or someone similar who knows how to work it)
3. Some rubbing alcohol to sterilize the tools
4. 2 drunk roomates/friends
5. Salt
6. Tupperwear with warm water
7. Packing tape.
I'm hoping I won't lose my foot after infection sets in.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Adventures in babysitting.
This is called a lazy post...but, give me a break. It's the weekend. Even the unemployed need a moment you know.
A couple weekends ago I had the pleasure of watching my friends' (Jen and Kevin) kids. It was an overnight adventure. I asked Jen for some instructions. This is the email I recieved:
1:30 arrival/parent departure
1:45 kids will ask for a snack
2:00 kids will be climbing all over you laughing, giggling, screaming, fighting over your lap, and asking for piggy back rides
2:15 kids will ask for a snack
2:30 kids will probably decide they wanna play "friends" and will start talking to each other like adults, as well as talking to you like they are 25 and you're just one of their girlfriends
2:45 bella will tell you she doesn't have to go potty when you ask her to try
3:00 kids will ask for a snack
3:15 kids will ask for a show...madi will wanna watch berenstain bears and bella will wanna watch mickey mouse clubhouse. then they will fight with each other over whose turn it is to pick the show
3:30 bella will ask you for her binky. when you say 'no' she will tell you she needs it because she is gonna rest (the only time she gets her binky is when she is in bed)...she WILL NOT SLEEP
3:45 kids will ask for a snack
4:00 play outside? ask bella to try going potty
4:15 kids will claim they are bored and have nothing to do
4:20 bella will ask to take a nap with her binky (please note** she WILL NOT SLEEP)
4:30 kids will ask you what's for dinner and when it will be served because they will claim to be STARVING!
5:00ish dinner, ask bella to try going potty
5:30 color, play with dolls, playdough
6:00 bella will have an accident because she insisted she didn't need to go potty the last 6 times you asked her
6:30 wind down for bedtime, they will ask for as snack as soon as you ask them to brush their teeth
6:45 ask the to get into their pajamas, this will take 15 minutes, and bella might still be naked
7:00 ask them to get their beds & books ready, go potty
7:15 bella:books, sippy cup, songs, bed...don't mess up the words to anything, she will correct you
7:20 bella will call you in to tell you she forgot to say goodnight to madi
7:30 madi: books, songs, bed...don't mess up the words to anything, she will correct you
7:45 madi will get up and go potty, come downstairs to ask you what you are doing, and what time we will be home. she will then want another hug and for you to go back upstairs and tuck her into bed
8:00 you will think there is a truck in my house...don't worry..it's just madi snoring
you will watch tv, hangout, check your email, whatever...
as soon as you fall asleep bella will call you. when you get to her room she will tell you she dropped her binky. at this point you will get on your hands and knees in the dark and begin feeling around for it. she will be watching you and smiling
2:00AM you will be in a deep sleep having a pleasant dream. you will then hear bella calling for you.
you will go in her room where she'll smile at you and without even trying to move tell you she wet the bed. you will strip her down, change her pj's and put new bedding on the bed. she will watch you from her rocking chair, smiling. put her back to bed, turn on her music and don't try escaping the room before you sing twinkle, twinkle, little star.
go back to bed. you should be safe til the morning.
7:00AM madi will wake first, she'll come find you because she will be famished from her night sleep and need breakfast IMMEDIATELY! bella will follow in about 20 minutes...and the day repeats!!
1:45 kids will ask for a snack
2:00 kids will be climbing all over you laughing, giggling, screaming, fighting over your lap, and asking for piggy back rides
2:15 kids will ask for a snack
2:30 kids will probably decide they wanna play "friends" and will start talking to each other like adults, as well as talking to you like they are 25 and you're just one of their girlfriends
2:45 bella will tell you she doesn't have to go potty when you ask her to try
3:00 kids will ask for a snack
3:15 kids will ask for a show...madi will wanna watch berenstain bears and bella will wanna watch mickey mouse clubhouse. then they will fight with each other over whose turn it is to pick the show
3:30 bella will ask you for her binky. when you say 'no' she will tell you she needs it because she is gonna rest (the only time she gets her binky is when she is in bed)...she WILL NOT SLEEP
3:45 kids will ask for a snack
4:00 play outside? ask bella to try going potty
4:15 kids will claim they are bored and have nothing to do
4:20 bella will ask to take a nap with her binky (please note** she WILL NOT SLEEP)
4:30 kids will ask you what's for dinner and when it will be served because they will claim to be STARVING!
5:00ish dinner, ask bella to try going potty
5:30 color, play with dolls, playdough
6:00 bella will have an accident because she insisted she didn't need to go potty the last 6 times you asked her
6:30 wind down for bedtime, they will ask for as snack as soon as you ask them to brush their teeth
6:45 ask the to get into their pajamas, this will take 15 minutes, and bella might still be naked
7:00 ask them to get their beds & books ready, go potty
7:15 bella:books, sippy cup, songs, bed...don't mess up the words to anything, she will correct you
7:20 bella will call you in to tell you she forgot to say goodnight to madi
7:30 madi: books, songs, bed...don't mess up the words to anything, she will correct you
7:45 madi will get up and go potty, come downstairs to ask you what you are doing, and what time we will be home. she will then want another hug and for you to go back upstairs and tuck her into bed
8:00 you will think there is a truck in my house...don't worry..it's just madi snoring
you will watch tv, hangout, check your email, whatever...
as soon as you fall asleep bella will call you. when you get to her room she will tell you she dropped her binky. at this point you will get on your hands and knees in the dark and begin feeling around for it. she will be watching you and smiling
2:00AM you will be in a deep sleep having a pleasant dream. you will then hear bella calling for you.
you will go in her room where she'll smile at you and without even trying to move tell you she wet the bed. you will strip her down, change her pj's and put new bedding on the bed. she will watch you from her rocking chair, smiling. put her back to bed, turn on her music and don't try escaping the room before you sing twinkle, twinkle, little star.
go back to bed. you should be safe til the morning.
7:00AM madi will wake first, she'll come find you because she will be famished from her night sleep and need breakfast IMMEDIATELY! bella will follow in about 20 minutes...and the day repeats!!
The following is MY report of how the day went:
1:00 arrival/I'm sweaty from teaching dance need a shower. Kids jump on me and luckily today Bella decides she will talk to me right away.
1:15 Jockey with Jen's parents, Jen and Kevin for a quick shower. Send Mr. Botta to downstairs bathroom to shave.
1:17 Tell Jen to come in the bathroom while I shower. She continues telling me a story while opening the curtain so she can make direct eye contact.
1:30 Finish getting dressed, convince Jen she actually IS pretty, convince Mrs. Botta that no one will notice her smudged nail polish and her shoes will be fine, convince her that she actually IS pretty, say hi to Mr. Botta who wants to kill someone as they are behind schedule, tell Kevin I need the car seats in my car...he looks suspicious. And annoyed. And scared.
1:35 I am given 2 cameras and everyone pretends to look happy.
1:36 Where are the kids?
1:45 Everyone leave. Kids ask for a snack.
1:47 Kids ask to go to the playground.
1:55 Get ready for playground. We cannot find Bella's sneakers.
1:58 Bella actually does go potty. And tells me she needs practice 'wipin'
2:05 Shoes are on, on the road
2:08 Kids ask if we can go for ice cream after the playground. Of course I said yes. I probably want ice cream more than they do.
2:09 Madi tells me she wants to go to Skinners. I say I don't know how to get there. She does. I say no.
2:10 Madi tells me about her boyfriend.
2:10-2:15 Bella talks incoherantly in what I not refer to as 'Bellanese'. Madi asks why Bella is talking so much. I silently ask the same question.
2:20-3:00- Playground. Madi shows off and gets stuck on some monkey bars. Some guy (whose daughter is in Madi's class) has to help me get her down. Bella wants to do everything Madi does...even though she's too little. Madi wants to ride in the baby swing. I get numerous stares from parents everytime the kids yell 'Allah!!! Hey Allah!!'. Now I am concidered a terrorist threat.
3:05 Madi asks to go for ice cream. And to go to Skinners. She knows the way. For some odd reason..I trust her.
3:15 We make it safely to Skinner's. All with Madi's direction. What??
3:15-3:45 Ice cream. Blue Dinasaur crunch. Bella gets it on her face and in her hair. Then sits in a pile of it. Eats my ice cream and says she likes mine better. Madi comments on how fast I eat mine. I feel self concious.
3:50 On the road. Madi contemplates which way she wants to take me...she knows short cuts.
4:00 play on the swings and Madi takes pics of Bella and I with my phone. I am having palpitations because that shit is expensive.
4:10 Madi and Bella are so bored (because I haven't done ANYTHING entertaining with them clearly) and they want to watch a show
4:11 Madi claims to be starving and demands to know when dinner is. Begs for a snack. I am borderline abusive because I tell her she can wait until 5
4:12, 4:13, 4:14, 4:15, 4:16 Madi repeatedly claims she cannot wait for dinner. I ask her if she is going to continue to whine. She just had a snack before the playground and ice cream. She can wait 45 minutes. I tell her if I hear her tell me how starving she is again, dinner won't be until 6. Which is a lie. Madi pretends to faint.
4:30 I fold some laundry. Bella helps. She cannot fold. I let her fold something, I take it out and refold it. Repeat.
5:00 Ask the girls to pick up their stuff so mom and dad come home to a clean house. I make dinner. They fight about who is picking up more.
5:15 Dinner. Madi tells me she is a chicken monster. She asks me why I like 'Spicy Ranch'. Bella talks some more Ballanese.
5:30 Bella shoves me from behind. When confronted she says it was Madi. Madi is in her room. I ask her if she is lying. She says no. I tell her she won't have to go to time out if she tells the truth and apologizes, but she will if she lies. She looks afraid, yet lies again. I raise one eye brow. She apologizes. Then laughs at me. Rookie.
5:45-6:15 Bath. Both of them. Madi tells me I have to condition their hair. They then play 'hey squeeze my nose and something green will come out'. They learned this from some clown. Who is this guy? Snots are everywhere.
6:45 Madi says :Allah....(insert sad face) I didn't eat enough at dinner...I need a snack
6:50 Apples with Peanut butter and Nutella
7:00 Bella in Bed. Madi tells me: Allah...why didn't you bring milk? Bella gets milk at bed. I get milk. Madi says 'Allah, why are you only singing one song? She gets 3.' I didn't know the other 2. Madi sings them and pats Bella's head.
7:30 Books and bed for Madi. Success.
8:00 Madi is at the top of the stairs. 'Allah...my throat hurts.' Water, carry her back to bed. Rub her back until she snores...LIKE A TRUCK DRIVER.
8:30 All is quiet. I review the day. I am convinced Madi could have handled it all herself...as long as enough snacks were left out.
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