sweet.
i just realized that this is the time of year where i get to spend 20+ minutes walking around the gym aimlessly waiting for my machine to be freed up by the hundreds of people who have finally decided to dust off their gym memberships. gotta love new years resolution time.
well pardon my backfat, i've been using that machine for the last 3 months. that very one you are breathing all over right now. no i will not go find another. that beast is mine for 30-45 minutes on monday, wednesday, and saturday. cant we just fast forward a month when you won't be here, forcing me to park in the very back of the parking lot heaven forbid i have to walk 50 yards further to my cardio machine. let's just pretend you tried really hard because lord knows I was you in January 2007, 8 and 9.
because you know what, you look fine anyway. im the one with an entire wardrobe in the basement of the clothes that used to fit. that combined with the fact that im too cheap to go buy new slacks when there is a perfectly good pair of 6's waiting patiently for me. and they were $70. and they've already been hemmed to match my shortness. and you don't really intend to get sweaty anyways in your juicy couture pantsuit.
speaking of. now that im on the subject and clearly on a fatroll here. what ever happened to women that sweat? clearly im the only one, that 1 out of 5 on the secret commericals. except i really don't need prescription strength deodorent because i don't really sweat an abnormal amount under there, i just happen to sweat the kind of entire body sweat that makes dry-wear the greatest invention since clear roll-on.
anyway, as i was saying. i'm the one that would otherwise be dripping sweat on that machine you're using. If that grosses you out, im sorry. but i'm in desperately fat-kicking times right now. and this is not my new years resolution. this is week 12 of the higher energy, lower carb, less flabby but still lovable me.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Sunday, November 29, 2009
One Crazy Week
My computer decided to go nuts this week and disable all Internet browsers rendering my computer virtually useless while almost cutting me off from the rest of the world. Thank god for my pricey pal - the iPhone - from which I can transfer account funds while I wait in line on Black Friday, gps myself to the nearest starbucks, and post a blog entry while I think about how much it's going to cost me to fix this laptop. But
I have survived 5 hours of thanksgiving cooking and 8 hours of black friday shopping, on 3 hours of sleep. I'm exhausted and drained but hopeful that the future will bring resolution to some if not all of my problems.
In the meantime, I'm spending quality time with myself, catching up on a book, the gym, and sleep. Glorious sleep. An afternoon nap is calling my name. What a great way to finish off a very busy, very crazy week.
Sent from my iPhone
I have survived 5 hours of thanksgiving cooking and 8 hours of black friday shopping, on 3 hours of sleep. I'm exhausted and drained but hopeful that the future will bring resolution to some if not all of my problems.
In the meantime, I'm spending quality time with myself, catching up on a book, the gym, and sleep. Glorious sleep. An afternoon nap is calling my name. What a great way to finish off a very busy, very crazy week.
Sent from my iPhone
Friday, October 9, 2009
May I Yelp You?
Ever have a friend who is way more hip and in-the-know that yourself that you must consult before trying the new Vietnamese place around the corner? I know, me neither. Well don't worry, Yelp is the solution to finding the best restaurant/dry cleaner/vet in town and I've used it a bajillion times to either consult fellow Sacramentans or gripe about that scary hairdo I just got at that one place in Natomas (eek!) and feel better knowing I will have saved countless others from a future butchering.
I have to say I've never been steered wrong by fellow Yelpers, it's a great resource. AND comes w/ it's own nifty little iPhone App. Though handy, the app doesn't let you post a question/conversation to other yelpers. My most recent question was where to eat late-night in Sacramento. I'm mostly talking weekends, when bars close and you've got the munchies. I posted a question and Voila! tons of users posted way more replies than I was expecting. I summarized everyone's responses along with address and closing times as the last post... just something to give back in appreciation for the site and its users.
And in case you're curious, and live in Sactown... here you go:
http://www.yelp.com/topic/sacramento-late-night-eating-in-sac
I have to say I've never been steered wrong by fellow Yelpers, it's a great resource. AND comes w/ it's own nifty little iPhone App. Though handy, the app doesn't let you post a question/conversation to other yelpers. My most recent question was where to eat late-night in Sacramento. I'm mostly talking weekends, when bars close and you've got the munchies. I posted a question and Voila! tons of users posted way more replies than I was expecting. I summarized everyone's responses along with address and closing times as the last post... just something to give back in appreciation for the site and its users.
And in case you're curious, and live in Sactown... here you go:
http://www.yelp.com/topic/sacramento-late-night-eating-in-sac
Friday, September 25, 2009
Bad Habits
So it was recently brought to my attention that I talk with my mouth full. Like all the time. Why? Obviously it's not intentional, maybe I have plenty to say that just can't wait. Plus I've never claimed to be all that lady-like, which I think is part of my charm.
Among friends, I've been known to belch, cuss, drink beer, talk trash, say that's what he said. Naturally, I play sports but I never say it's just a game, I'm super competitive and you'd better be good if you're on my team even if it's charades or so-help-me-god... Anyway. How have I never noticed this talking w/ mouth full habit before? And I love how my boyfriend just now points this out after 2 years. Thanks babe! Now that I know, do I change it or at least hope I remember to swallow my food first in front of a client? Did my mom forget to correct me for that growing up? I remember the elbows on the table and the wooden spoon just in case we forgot. Hmmm...
Well after 28 years of a bad habit, what do you do? I tell you what. If it's not hurting anyone, offending anyone, and I'm not spitting on you at dinner, then Get.Over.It. We all have little annoying things that people shouldn't do at our age. Plus it's not like I'm blowing my nose on the cloth napkin (although I hear that's ok). Or getting sloshed and puking on the side of your house. Or belching at work. Ever!
So I guess if you have a problem w/ my eating habits, talking habits, drinking habits, or anything else I do of the habitual nature, then please exit stage left and have a nice day! Otherwise, I'll give you a mouthful to complain about... that's what he said.
***Feel free to share your bad habits in the comments! This post is for C. Starr who enables my habits on a weekly basis. Thanks for putting up with me!***
Among friends, I've been known to belch, cuss, drink beer, talk trash, say that's what he said. Naturally, I play sports but I never say it's just a game, I'm super competitive and you'd better be good if you're on my team even if it's charades or so-help-me-god... Anyway. How have I never noticed this talking w/ mouth full habit before? And I love how my boyfriend just now points this out after 2 years. Thanks babe! Now that I know, do I change it or at least hope I remember to swallow my food first in front of a client? Did my mom forget to correct me for that growing up? I remember the elbows on the table and the wooden spoon just in case we forgot. Hmmm...
Well after 28 years of a bad habit, what do you do? I tell you what. If it's not hurting anyone, offending anyone, and I'm not spitting on you at dinner, then Get.Over.It. We all have little annoying things that people shouldn't do at our age. Plus it's not like I'm blowing my nose on the cloth napkin (although I hear that's ok). Or getting sloshed and puking on the side of your house. Or belching at work. Ever!
So I guess if you have a problem w/ my eating habits, talking habits, drinking habits, or anything else I do of the habitual nature, then please exit stage left and have a nice day! Otherwise, I'll give you a mouthful to complain about... that's what he said.
***Feel free to share your bad habits in the comments! This post is for C. Starr who enables my habits on a weekly basis. Thanks for putting up with me!***
Friday, September 11, 2009
September 11, 2001
I was 20 years old when it happened. It was September and I'd usually be finishing up my summer job and heading back to school on the Central Coast of California. That weekend, however, I was visiting my friend Lauren in Philadelphia with a couple other girlfriends from high school. I had originally planned on flying out on Sunday the 9th, but since my dad worked for the airlines and I had a stand-by ticket, I stayed a couple extra days and intended to fly out around 1:30 on tuesday.
I awoke that morning to Lauren panicking from the front room. She had turned on the TV just as the first plane hit. I sat in her living room as the 2nd plane hit and was completely stunned. The first thing I did after I snapped out of it was pick up the phone to call my parents, but I couldn't. They were travelling to Europe and hadn't landed yet.
We listened to the news as the airplanes were grounded, and knowing it would be a week before I would be able to fly stand-by anywhere let alone to San Francisco, I figured i would have to find another way to get home. Once I finally got a hold of my parents, and we quickly went over the few options I had, we settled on the only available option at the time - taking a Greyhound bus across the country. At that time (or any time), riding the greyhound for 3 days wasn't ideal, but it was the fastest and cheapet ticket off the East Coast, and so I hurried down to the station in downtown Philly and got in line that afternoon.
It was unlike anything I've ever seen. Families, mobs of people, the poor and affluent, filled the greyhound station in a line that wrapped the entire station twice. I boarded the first bus around 6:00 and we left and headed towards Pittsburg. That station was no different than Philly, except it was near where those brave passengers diverted a greater national disaster and crashed the plane destined for the Pentagon. Anxiety gripped this bus's passengers, and everyone sat silent as our nation held its breath. I can't really describe what I experienced, as it was different for everyone on that day. But as we left Pennsylvania, the passengers breathed a little easier the further away from the coast we traveled.
Around the Pittsburg station I discovered (or was discovered by) a very nice older couple who were also travelling to San Francisco. I'll call them the Johnsons, a husband and wife in their late 50s/early 60s. They heard that my parents were out of the country, and that I was travelling alone. Since they had a daughter about my age, they told me they would look out for me, and I thanked them and sat near them on the next bus.
What happened next could only be described as my body's self defense mechanism. In dealing with trauma, sometimes people's minds block things out unconsciously, well mine tells me to go to sleep. And so I slept... for the next 2 days of the 3-day trip. The Johnsons awoke me when it was time to transfer buses, I stood with them in line and once I sat down again, fell immediately asleep. While the other passengers traded stories and got to know each other, I completely checked out. I didn't wake up, in fact, until Cheyenne, Wyoming. The passengers laughed and said "we were wondering if you were ever going to wake up." The last 1100 miles of that trip is a blur. I remember crossing into California, and stopping in the Sacramento greyhound (only a couple miles from where I live today), and finally arriving in San Francisco where I was greeted by my sister and niece, then only a few months old.
It was an emotional goodbye, to the Johnsons. Thinking back on the 3 days they spent with me, they welcomed me into their hearts, protected me from imminent danger (hello... seedy middle america greyhound stations = no place for my petite, very cute butt!), and gave me a glimmer of hope in my anxiety.
We exchanged addresses that day, and I've since sent them a couple of letters, usually on the eve of the 9/11 anniversary. I am forever changed by the events of that tragedy, and because I truly believe they were my guardian angels. Half the reason I wrote them was to be sure they actually existed and I didn't dream it! They wrote back each time, of course, as kind people usually do. I truly can't thank them enough for what they did, and how their kindness still resonates with me today, as does the courage and bravery of those Americans who gave their lives that day and since to protect our freedom.
I awoke that morning to Lauren panicking from the front room. She had turned on the TV just as the first plane hit. I sat in her living room as the 2nd plane hit and was completely stunned. The first thing I did after I snapped out of it was pick up the phone to call my parents, but I couldn't. They were travelling to Europe and hadn't landed yet.
We listened to the news as the airplanes were grounded, and knowing it would be a week before I would be able to fly stand-by anywhere let alone to San Francisco, I figured i would have to find another way to get home. Once I finally got a hold of my parents, and we quickly went over the few options I had, we settled on the only available option at the time - taking a Greyhound bus across the country. At that time (or any time), riding the greyhound for 3 days wasn't ideal, but it was the fastest and cheapet ticket off the East Coast, and so I hurried down to the station in downtown Philly and got in line that afternoon.
It was unlike anything I've ever seen. Families, mobs of people, the poor and affluent, filled the greyhound station in a line that wrapped the entire station twice. I boarded the first bus around 6:00 and we left and headed towards Pittsburg. That station was no different than Philly, except it was near where those brave passengers diverted a greater national disaster and crashed the plane destined for the Pentagon. Anxiety gripped this bus's passengers, and everyone sat silent as our nation held its breath. I can't really describe what I experienced, as it was different for everyone on that day. But as we left Pennsylvania, the passengers breathed a little easier the further away from the coast we traveled.
Around the Pittsburg station I discovered (or was discovered by) a very nice older couple who were also travelling to San Francisco. I'll call them the Johnsons, a husband and wife in their late 50s/early 60s. They heard that my parents were out of the country, and that I was travelling alone. Since they had a daughter about my age, they told me they would look out for me, and I thanked them and sat near them on the next bus.
What happened next could only be described as my body's self defense mechanism. In dealing with trauma, sometimes people's minds block things out unconsciously, well mine tells me to go to sleep. And so I slept... for the next 2 days of the 3-day trip. The Johnsons awoke me when it was time to transfer buses, I stood with them in line and once I sat down again, fell immediately asleep. While the other passengers traded stories and got to know each other, I completely checked out. I didn't wake up, in fact, until Cheyenne, Wyoming. The passengers laughed and said "we were wondering if you were ever going to wake up." The last 1100 miles of that trip is a blur. I remember crossing into California, and stopping in the Sacramento greyhound (only a couple miles from where I live today), and finally arriving in San Francisco where I was greeted by my sister and niece, then only a few months old.
It was an emotional goodbye, to the Johnsons. Thinking back on the 3 days they spent with me, they welcomed me into their hearts, protected me from imminent danger (hello... seedy middle america greyhound stations = no place for my petite, very cute butt!), and gave me a glimmer of hope in my anxiety.
We exchanged addresses that day, and I've since sent them a couple of letters, usually on the eve of the 9/11 anniversary. I am forever changed by the events of that tragedy, and because I truly believe they were my guardian angels. Half the reason I wrote them was to be sure they actually existed and I didn't dream it! They wrote back each time, of course, as kind people usually do. I truly can't thank them enough for what they did, and how their kindness still resonates with me today, as does the courage and bravery of those Americans who gave their lives that day and since to protect our freedom.
Monday, August 31, 2009
I've decided...
I wanna be the kind of person who sends snail mail. what ever happened to people using regular mail? USPS has been wondering that for the past few years since electronic billing and e-cards took hold. Email has destroyed so much of the personal interaction that used to build communities and even force real-time conversations in order to solve problems at work. Now it's all about the "paper trail" and proper documentation, CCing all the important people who feel entitled to be kept in the loop, or often times just to CYA (cover your a--). We've all been guilty of sending an email instead of walking 10 feet down the hall and getting a quick answer.
Avoiding the sense of invading someone's office space with our questions, our personalities, we confine ourselves to the same 4 walls in the comforting, familiar presence of our computer and ipod. side note... since when is it ok to walk the halls at work with headphones? No, your headphones do not preclude you from the generic hello or head nod in the hallway. Your music is not that good, trust me.
Well last month I successfully sent out 4 pieces of mail: birthday cards, a birthday gift, and a just because mailing. I also gave a card to a co-worker whose wife has cancer. Sometimes you don't need a reason or an occasion to help brighten someone's day. Or you want to make someone feel better but you don't know what to say. My dad recently told me 'when you speak from the heart, it can never come out wrong'. Good advice, Dad!
And then this month sent me for a crazy loop and now I don't know which way is up. The boyfriend and I moved. Then his teenage kids came to visit for the month. Yup, teenage and yes, kids plural. Had a housewarming party (oops... meant to mail out invitations, ended up emailing a few people). Still haven't sent out our change of address. In other words... the whole plan went to HELL. So yeah, I still want to be the kind of person who sends snail mail. I'm workin on it. But first I gotta find those stamps.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Jewelry Parties.
How did i not know about these before. I knew about tupperware parties, I sat through many as a child and reveled in finding all the right lids that went with the dishes, sorted by letter. Remember those?! It was a fun game for me. Okay, who am I kidding, it still is today.
Back to the best invention ever. A party where the sole purpose is to gather with other ladies and eat and drink while a much more fashion-inclined person than myself shows me what kind of jewelry to wear and what the latest trends are and I don't have to pretend to know what a lobster claw clasp is or buy several things at once because I have no idea how to choose one thing to go with my latest impulse buy? Hmmm... can there please be a shoe party in my near future? Where I can try on shoes without that ridiculous nylon sock thingy or have to wait forever for the old guy to come from the back with my size 7.5s? Or be seen heading straight to the clearance aisle because - it's a recession y'all... and I'm cheap.
Okay so a minor drawback to the jewelry party is having to wait a few weeks for your purchases. Kinda takes the excitement outta the experience when all I have to show for $100 is a bloated belly and wine lips. Wait... that's most weekend evenings for me. Doh!
Back to the best invention ever. A party where the sole purpose is to gather with other ladies and eat and drink while a much more fashion-inclined person than myself shows me what kind of jewelry to wear and what the latest trends are and I don't have to pretend to know what a lobster claw clasp is or buy several things at once because I have no idea how to choose one thing to go with my latest impulse buy? Hmmm... can there please be a shoe party in my near future? Where I can try on shoes without that ridiculous nylon sock thingy or have to wait forever for the old guy to come from the back with my size 7.5s? Or be seen heading straight to the clearance aisle because - it's a recession y'all... and I'm cheap.
Okay so a minor drawback to the jewelry party is having to wait a few weeks for your purchases. Kinda takes the excitement outta the experience when all I have to show for $100 is a bloated belly and wine lips. Wait... that's most weekend evenings for me. Doh!
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