Okay, the time had come where it was "do or die" time to buy a dress for my cousin's wedding. Megs and I went shopping and with grim outlooks because we also had to go swimsuit shopping afterwards. Eek.
We went to Dress Barn. Yes, Dress Barn. I really wish they would change the name, it is so off-putting and it just sounds like a place where you buy dresses made out of red handkerchiefs and denim. Not the case. We have shopped there for our special occasion dresses for a few years now and have been pleased every single time. They are reasonably priced and have quite the selection of styles and sizes. Finally a store that my sister and I can shop at THE SAME TIME.
We each found a dress and each dress was completely atypical of us. We actually tried on the same dress, mine had about 17 more yards of fabric, and asked an older gentleman waiting for his wife to get done trying things on, which one of us looked better in the dress. Poor guy. He asked if he really had to choose. Now, you have to know both of us to know that neither one of us were going to be mad or upset if one looked better than the other. After a good look, he said we both looked good, but that I looked REALLY good. SCORE!!! My dress was pretty much chosen at that time, but I continued to try on a few more dresses for the entertainment value. Megs found a dress as well. Hers is a little bedazzled and wicked awesome.
We made the purchase, headed to look for suits. The first store nearly brought me to a panic attack due to the lack of style and sizes I needed. We headed to the second store where we both found suits! We ended up with the same tops, different bottoms since they didn't have bottoms SMALL ENOUGH for her. Yes, really. Sigh.
I knew with the dress that I would need a pair of smoothing panties to help eliminate the lumps. Hang onto that thought while I continue the next part.
I mentioned quite a while ago that it was time for me to get new bras because mine were way too big, not to mention that I lost two of my bras to old age, natural causes. So, I have PIC #2 measure me for bras because I specifically wanted Essential Bodywear (The Bra Doctor) bras like the ones I currently wear. I would like to mention that I went down quite a few inches, too!!! I found an awesome package deal on their site that includes bras and smoothing panties! Ordered. I get the bras, they don't fit at all!!! The good news is the ultra non-sexy panties fit like a dream. Granny panties in the house and on my ass. Sweet! So, I went to get remeasured, try on the sizes and get a special code for exchange. What a fiasco for BRAS. Wow. Hopefully they will be here soon. I intend to take a before and after pic of me in the set FULLY CLOTHED to show the difference.
All of the clothes I bought in Vegas are now too big. Go figure. I splurge on something nice for myself and basically someone ripped the clothes out of my hands and slapped me with them. I'm considering having my friend BK help me out with some alterations, but I need the bras before I start pinning the shirts.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you looking up Essential Bodywear right now, until next time...
Showing posts with label Wth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wth. Show all posts
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Oh boy...
Okay, it is time to fill you in on what else has gone on in the last couple of months to make me feel like an overall failure and underachiever.
I covered the foot injury and having bronchitis more times than you thought you would hear about it. Then, I got the sinus infection, which I covered as well. Oh yeah, I know what I haven't covered. Brace yourself...shortly after I got back from Vegas, during the recuperation week, there was an evening we were getting ready to go to bed. The pups were on the floor sleeping. Brett went downstairs to get something and I was turning things off upstairs and locking things up, etc. I was on my way to go check on Ty and I went to step over Dutch. Keep in mind that Dutch has cataract in both eyes and I suspect he is starting lose his hearing. When I stepped over him, I startled him, he jumped up and took my right leg with him...across the living room. I hopped as much as I could until the unthinkable happened. It was like my pup had turned into a martial artist and leg swept me. I came crashing down to the floor. Hard.
Fortunate for me, Brett was in the room right underneath me and heard the whole thing. He returned upstairs to ask what that loud noise was to find me still lying on the floor. Don't worry, I was laughing. Dutch was trying to make it up to me, but I told him to take three steps back and he took four. We made up, but I was left with a very sore left hip and thigh as well as a slightly sprained ankle. Go figure.
The other thing I did not cover was the pinched nerve in my left leg. A few weeks ago, right before I got the sinus infection, but well after Dutch walked my leg, I jumped back into working out. Literally and figuratively, if you can have both, but even if you can't, I am taking both right now. Anyhoo, I worked out, no problems. I felt fine, I did just fine and enjoyed it.
I started my day like normal, got ready for work and was getting Ty ready before I left for work and my left shin had a spot that felt like it was on fire. I didn't think too much of it because it went away rather quick. While I was at work, I noticed it again. I pulled up my pant leg and felt the spot and it was cool to the touch, but it felt like I was burning up from the inside out just in the one spot. It went on for a couple of days. I started to get scared. So, what do people do when they have an ailment and start to freak out? Google it? That's right, Google. I Googled it and found that people with similar situations had either a pinched nerve or a neurological disorder. Sigh.
Thankfully, I still have a Neurologist on staff, so after consulting her, it was determined it was a pinched nerve. It wasn't painful, so that was a plus. It was irritating, for sure. Scary? Not anymore. BUTTTTTTTTTT, since I had this pinched nerve, I had to tone it down for a bit and not do the high intensity working out for a while. Sigh.
I took a break and instead was walking and just kept moving. Not a big deal. Things got better, I got back into working it like I know I can. Today, while I was working out, I was feeling pretty good about myself and the stellar job I was doing keeping up with Shaun T and super irritating girl, Tanya. Keep in mind when I am doing Insanity, I am all over the place. It is hard to stay in one spot. I would have a really hard time in class these days. Anyhoo, I'm jumping around, I bump into the recliner. Under the recliner was Tyson's plastic, foam covered bat. It rolled out from underneath the recliner when I bumped into it. I didn't know this until... I landed on it. My right foot landed right on top of that bat and I started to roll around on one leg. For a moment, I felt like I was an act in the circus. I tried really hard to keep my balance and not fall, but this is me we're talking about and there is no other way but to fall. My foot rolled off the bat, rolling my ankle and I came crashing down to the floor.
At 4:45 in the morning, there I am, lying on the basement floor and saying "oh shit." My foot is already throbbing. I stopped Shaun T. Wheeled out my Gazelle and got on that instead with my throbbing foot. Hot, I tell ya. Hot. (Insert numerous eye rolls here)
I can't make this stuff up. It really does happen to me. Too often. But then again, what would I have to write about and entertain you all???? I would just be (gulp) normal.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you wondering how I haven't broken anything lately, until next time...
I covered the foot injury and having bronchitis more times than you thought you would hear about it. Then, I got the sinus infection, which I covered as well. Oh yeah, I know what I haven't covered. Brace yourself...shortly after I got back from Vegas, during the recuperation week, there was an evening we were getting ready to go to bed. The pups were on the floor sleeping. Brett went downstairs to get something and I was turning things off upstairs and locking things up, etc. I was on my way to go check on Ty and I went to step over Dutch. Keep in mind that Dutch has cataract in both eyes and I suspect he is starting lose his hearing. When I stepped over him, I startled him, he jumped up and took my right leg with him...across the living room. I hopped as much as I could until the unthinkable happened. It was like my pup had turned into a martial artist and leg swept me. I came crashing down to the floor. Hard.
Fortunate for me, Brett was in the room right underneath me and heard the whole thing. He returned upstairs to ask what that loud noise was to find me still lying on the floor. Don't worry, I was laughing. Dutch was trying to make it up to me, but I told him to take three steps back and he took four. We made up, but I was left with a very sore left hip and thigh as well as a slightly sprained ankle. Go figure.
The other thing I did not cover was the pinched nerve in my left leg. A few weeks ago, right before I got the sinus infection, but well after Dutch walked my leg, I jumped back into working out. Literally and figuratively, if you can have both, but even if you can't, I am taking both right now. Anyhoo, I worked out, no problems. I felt fine, I did just fine and enjoyed it.
I started my day like normal, got ready for work and was getting Ty ready before I left for work and my left shin had a spot that felt like it was on fire. I didn't think too much of it because it went away rather quick. While I was at work, I noticed it again. I pulled up my pant leg and felt the spot and it was cool to the touch, but it felt like I was burning up from the inside out just in the one spot. It went on for a couple of days. I started to get scared. So, what do people do when they have an ailment and start to freak out? Google it? That's right, Google. I Googled it and found that people with similar situations had either a pinched nerve or a neurological disorder. Sigh.
Thankfully, I still have a Neurologist on staff, so after consulting her, it was determined it was a pinched nerve. It wasn't painful, so that was a plus. It was irritating, for sure. Scary? Not anymore. BUTTTTTTTTTT, since I had this pinched nerve, I had to tone it down for a bit and not do the high intensity working out for a while. Sigh.
I took a break and instead was walking and just kept moving. Not a big deal. Things got better, I got back into working it like I know I can. Today, while I was working out, I was feeling pretty good about myself and the stellar job I was doing keeping up with Shaun T and super irritating girl, Tanya. Keep in mind when I am doing Insanity, I am all over the place. It is hard to stay in one spot. I would have a really hard time in class these days. Anyhoo, I'm jumping around, I bump into the recliner. Under the recliner was Tyson's plastic, foam covered bat. It rolled out from underneath the recliner when I bumped into it. I didn't know this until... I landed on it. My right foot landed right on top of that bat and I started to roll around on one leg. For a moment, I felt like I was an act in the circus. I tried really hard to keep my balance and not fall, but this is me we're talking about and there is no other way but to fall. My foot rolled off the bat, rolling my ankle and I came crashing down to the floor.
At 4:45 in the morning, there I am, lying on the basement floor and saying "oh shit." My foot is already throbbing. I stopped Shaun T. Wheeled out my Gazelle and got on that instead with my throbbing foot. Hot, I tell ya. Hot. (Insert numerous eye rolls here)
I can't make this stuff up. It really does happen to me. Too often. But then again, what would I have to write about and entertain you all???? I would just be (gulp) normal.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you wondering how I haven't broken anything lately, until next time...
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Painting Pottery
Alright, so two doors down neighbor texts me the week before Father's Day and says she would like to take her son to paint something for Father's Day and asked if Ty and I would want to go, too. I'm a HUGE fan of painting my own pottery in my own hues and designs, so of course I'm down!
I picked Ty up from daycare, had snacks on hand for him to eat on the way there. They were to meet us there. Ty scarfed down some snacks and I told him about what we were going to do. He loves to paint and I knew he would be into it.
We get there and the gal working was already wiping up the floor. Apparently, two doors down neighbor and son had spilled a bowl of water. Then, of course this place had to have Dum-Dums in plain sight. Both kids are about the suckers. So, since her son had one, Ty had to have one, too. No biggie. He is content for the moment. Ty chose, okay, okay, I chose a coffee mug for Ty to paint. Things were a bit dicey when we had to sponge water all over the pieces we were going to paint. Ty was WAY more into this than I thought he would be. So much so, that he wanted to just play in the bowl of water with the sponge. Distraction came when he remembered the Dum-Dums.
I got his attention when we went over to the shelves of paints and I let him pick out the colors he wanted to use. Back to the Dum-Dums. The gal finally put the suckers behind the counter. Did I mention that before that, our children had both placed their have sucked, licked and eaten suckers back in the bowl??? He picked three different greens, a yellow, a red and a blue. He concentrated while he painted. He was quiet and painted with conviction. I held the mug and spun it as needed. He painted the inside and outside of this mug in no particular pattern, just covered the mug in paint. It was hideous, but made completely by him.
After he got done painting, he said he was ready to go home. Well, we still needed to clean up and pay. During the time that two doors down neighbor was finishing up the painting on her husband's mug, our children, sitting side by side in chairs, get into a slapping match with each other. They NEVER act like this towards each other. I separate them, putting Ty at a different table so I can clean things up. He's back to wanting to play in the murky paint water.
Ty gets to come back to the table which we are sitting and sit back in his chair. Then the boys get into it again. Tyson didn't want the neighbor boy's hands on the chair and the neighbor boy didn't want Ty to sit in the chair. I was in disbelief they were doing this. We had them hug it out and all seemed well.
I paid and we start to leave. Ty stalls in the entryway and starts playing with the glass door. Then the neighbor boy comes and they are now fighting over the door, playing tug of war, one on each side of the door. The neighbor boy pulls the door closed on Ty's fingers, Ty is crying. I tell them both to not play with the door for fear of getting fingers pinched again. Again, disbelief. They never ever act like this.
After about 7 minutes of back and forth with Ty on leaving because he wanted to stay in the entryway of this place, I gave him the choice of walking or being carried. He didn't choose. I chose to pick him up and carry him. He was SO MAD. So mad that he actually hit me in the back of the head with his closed fist and it made my ears ring. No, I'm not joking.
After I spoke sternly, he and I rode in silence all the way home. I pull into the garage and he is whispering, "sawwy mommy. I need a hug." I go to get him out and I start crying. He starts crying and says, "I need out! I need a hug!" We hugged it out. Brett wanted to know what was going on, I could only tell him that he was naughty at the store.
The Saturday before Father's Day, we went to pick up the mug. It was a different gal working and I told her I was there to pick up a couple mugs that we painted. She pulls out a nicely painted, symmetrical striped, mug in bold colors. I told her, "look for hideous." She found it.
Ty and I got back in the car and I ask him, what else should we get daddy for his present. Without hesitation and in a "duh" tone, he says, "coffee!" I was thinking that we would get some fancier coffee, but Ty had something else in mind: the coffee that we usually have at home, the 270 cup tub of Folgers. He insisted that we get two. He also wanted to get his daddy some paints. We go to the craft aisle and he wanted to get finger paint. Done. Right below the finger paint was a pack of three safety scissors. Apparently, daddy needed those. I let him pick out the gift bag: a giant bag with pictures of balloons on it. Time for a card. The one card he liked right off the bat was a Minnie Mouse card, but it was to daddy from daughter. I put the kibosh on that and had him pick something else. He picked a Lightning McQueen card that played "I can't drive 55" - yes, Sammy Hagar singing.
Brett was pleased with the gift selection and he finally got to hear this whole story. Hopefully, we can go paint a mug again sometime. I hope it is a better experience next time. It was fun while it lasted and the mug, is so ugly it is beautiful.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you that celebrated Father's Day with similar gifts, until next time...
I picked Ty up from daycare, had snacks on hand for him to eat on the way there. They were to meet us there. Ty scarfed down some snacks and I told him about what we were going to do. He loves to paint and I knew he would be into it.
We get there and the gal working was already wiping up the floor. Apparently, two doors down neighbor and son had spilled a bowl of water. Then, of course this place had to have Dum-Dums in plain sight. Both kids are about the suckers. So, since her son had one, Ty had to have one, too. No biggie. He is content for the moment. Ty chose, okay, okay, I chose a coffee mug for Ty to paint. Things were a bit dicey when we had to sponge water all over the pieces we were going to paint. Ty was WAY more into this than I thought he would be. So much so, that he wanted to just play in the bowl of water with the sponge. Distraction came when he remembered the Dum-Dums.
I got his attention when we went over to the shelves of paints and I let him pick out the colors he wanted to use. Back to the Dum-Dums. The gal finally put the suckers behind the counter. Did I mention that before that, our children had both placed their have sucked, licked and eaten suckers back in the bowl??? He picked three different greens, a yellow, a red and a blue. He concentrated while he painted. He was quiet and painted with conviction. I held the mug and spun it as needed. He painted the inside and outside of this mug in no particular pattern, just covered the mug in paint. It was hideous, but made completely by him.
After he got done painting, he said he was ready to go home. Well, we still needed to clean up and pay. During the time that two doors down neighbor was finishing up the painting on her husband's mug, our children, sitting side by side in chairs, get into a slapping match with each other. They NEVER act like this towards each other. I separate them, putting Ty at a different table so I can clean things up. He's back to wanting to play in the murky paint water.
Ty gets to come back to the table which we are sitting and sit back in his chair. Then the boys get into it again. Tyson didn't want the neighbor boy's hands on the chair and the neighbor boy didn't want Ty to sit in the chair. I was in disbelief they were doing this. We had them hug it out and all seemed well.
I paid and we start to leave. Ty stalls in the entryway and starts playing with the glass door. Then the neighbor boy comes and they are now fighting over the door, playing tug of war, one on each side of the door. The neighbor boy pulls the door closed on Ty's fingers, Ty is crying. I tell them both to not play with the door for fear of getting fingers pinched again. Again, disbelief. They never ever act like this.
After about 7 minutes of back and forth with Ty on leaving because he wanted to stay in the entryway of this place, I gave him the choice of walking or being carried. He didn't choose. I chose to pick him up and carry him. He was SO MAD. So mad that he actually hit me in the back of the head with his closed fist and it made my ears ring. No, I'm not joking.
After I spoke sternly, he and I rode in silence all the way home. I pull into the garage and he is whispering, "sawwy mommy. I need a hug." I go to get him out and I start crying. He starts crying and says, "I need out! I need a hug!" We hugged it out. Brett wanted to know what was going on, I could only tell him that he was naughty at the store.
The Saturday before Father's Day, we went to pick up the mug. It was a different gal working and I told her I was there to pick up a couple mugs that we painted. She pulls out a nicely painted, symmetrical striped, mug in bold colors. I told her, "look for hideous." She found it.
Ty and I got back in the car and I ask him, what else should we get daddy for his present. Without hesitation and in a "duh" tone, he says, "coffee!" I was thinking that we would get some fancier coffee, but Ty had something else in mind: the coffee that we usually have at home, the 270 cup tub of Folgers. He insisted that we get two. He also wanted to get his daddy some paints. We go to the craft aisle and he wanted to get finger paint. Done. Right below the finger paint was a pack of three safety scissors. Apparently, daddy needed those. I let him pick out the gift bag: a giant bag with pictures of balloons on it. Time for a card. The one card he liked right off the bat was a Minnie Mouse card, but it was to daddy from daughter. I put the kibosh on that and had him pick something else. He picked a Lightning McQueen card that played "I can't drive 55" - yes, Sammy Hagar singing.
Brett was pleased with the gift selection and he finally got to hear this whole story. Hopefully, we can go paint a mug again sometime. I hope it is a better experience next time. It was fun while it lasted and the mug, is so ugly it is beautiful.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you that celebrated Father's Day with similar gifts, until next time...
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Been a Little Mixed Up!
Did you miss me? I did! Apologies for taking an extended break from my blogging. I needed it. I've had motivational issues, sad news, important anniversaries and a lot going on in general. Excuses. I know. I usually pride myself on keeping up with everything and having my crap together, but I have not had ANYTHING together, lately.
We've kept busy lately with playing, dinners, appointments and dun dun dunnnnnnnn... illness. For a week, Ty's allergies got so bad when it got warmer that we were up once, sometimes twice a night giving breathing treatments. I took him to the doctor, he gets put on meds and then after my nosebleed episodes started in Vegas and continued for about two days after I returned, I got a wicked awful sinus infection. Meds for me and misery ensued. Walking and talking hurt my head and face. And it was only on the side where I was having the nosebleeds. Coincidence? Probably not.
In the last couple of weeks we have:
- celebrated our 10 year wedding anniversary where we got a sitter so we could skip dinner to run a couple of errands and eat popcorn and M&M's at the movie theater. It was a nice evening out.
- had PIC #2's boyfriend cook us dinner where PIC #2 was REALLY mean to Ty. No, not really. Ty just gets moody when he's hungry. Totally not her fault, except for the part where she yelled at him. I kid! I kid! She didn't yell. Very loud. Kidding again.
- I went to a Norwex party and bought some more stuff. Not impressed with the dusting mitt, in case you were wondering.
- I colored my hair again, weeks early because the dye I used before I went to Vegas that was supposed to be permanent washed out and left my hair a nice shade of reddish at the roots and my grays were electric blue. No joke.
- I have mourned the loss of my favorite swimming suit. It has a snag and you can now see the little shreds of elastic poking through the darker color. Time to invest again. Bummer.
- I have mourned the loss of TWO of my bras. Hopefully I will get new ones ordered this week and can start being comfortable again. (more on the bra situation in a later post)
- We reminisced of a man that I call my second dad. 10 year anniversary. Sad that it is easy to remember and count that way.
- We took Ty to a movie and he was wanting to go home because he was tired. We stayed until the end, though.
- I got my hair cut because it was necessary to chop five inches of crispiness off.
- We watched our nephew and niece while my sister and brother in law went out for their anniversary. He got called into work, he brought her home in tears, not the day she had in mind. Ty and his cousin tattled on each other all day long. Hard concept to get across.
- I met up with friends for dinner and drinks. I'm trying to stay true to my philosophy that time away and out recharges me and makes me better at just about everything I do.
- We celebrated our nephew's 4th birthday.
- Two doors down neighbor and I took the kids to a pottery painting place before Father's Day so the boys could paint something for their dads. (more on this in a later post)
- We have filled over 100 water balloons to be thrown in the driveway.
- I attended my cousin's bridal shower where I knocked over picture frames at the hostess' house and pulled out a small bag of Norwex laundry detergent that resembles cocaine.
- I forgot to pay the sitter.
- I have taken Ty to the pool twice and HE LOVES IT.
- We have filled up the wading pool a couple of times and TY LOVES IT.
- We had a city-wide power outage on one of the hottest days and in the midst of my sinus infection. I was forced to have Ty outside, playing in the water in the wading pool and eating popsicles. I also hosed the pups down to keep them cool.
- I have fully recuperated from Vegas. I think.
- I have managed to not workout religiously, but lose weight. Man am I missing it. Wow.
Those are the "highlights" of the last couple of weeks. If you want to call them all that. I'm going to be better about everything. I've got to. I feel like I'm losing my mind.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you sending me positive vibes, until next time...
We've kept busy lately with playing, dinners, appointments and dun dun dunnnnnnnn... illness. For a week, Ty's allergies got so bad when it got warmer that we were up once, sometimes twice a night giving breathing treatments. I took him to the doctor, he gets put on meds and then after my nosebleed episodes started in Vegas and continued for about two days after I returned, I got a wicked awful sinus infection. Meds for me and misery ensued. Walking and talking hurt my head and face. And it was only on the side where I was having the nosebleeds. Coincidence? Probably not.
In the last couple of weeks we have:
- celebrated our 10 year wedding anniversary where we got a sitter so we could skip dinner to run a couple of errands and eat popcorn and M&M's at the movie theater. It was a nice evening out.
- had PIC #2's boyfriend cook us dinner where PIC #2 was REALLY mean to Ty. No, not really. Ty just gets moody when he's hungry. Totally not her fault, except for the part where she yelled at him. I kid! I kid! She didn't yell. Very loud. Kidding again.
- I went to a Norwex party and bought some more stuff. Not impressed with the dusting mitt, in case you were wondering.
- I colored my hair again, weeks early because the dye I used before I went to Vegas that was supposed to be permanent washed out and left my hair a nice shade of reddish at the roots and my grays were electric blue. No joke.
- I have mourned the loss of my favorite swimming suit. It has a snag and you can now see the little shreds of elastic poking through the darker color. Time to invest again. Bummer.
- I have mourned the loss of TWO of my bras. Hopefully I will get new ones ordered this week and can start being comfortable again. (more on the bra situation in a later post)
- We reminisced of a man that I call my second dad. 10 year anniversary. Sad that it is easy to remember and count that way.
- We took Ty to a movie and he was wanting to go home because he was tired. We stayed until the end, though.
- I got my hair cut because it was necessary to chop five inches of crispiness off.
- We watched our nephew and niece while my sister and brother in law went out for their anniversary. He got called into work, he brought her home in tears, not the day she had in mind. Ty and his cousin tattled on each other all day long. Hard concept to get across.
- I met up with friends for dinner and drinks. I'm trying to stay true to my philosophy that time away and out recharges me and makes me better at just about everything I do.
- We celebrated our nephew's 4th birthday.
- Two doors down neighbor and I took the kids to a pottery painting place before Father's Day so the boys could paint something for their dads. (more on this in a later post)
- We have filled over 100 water balloons to be thrown in the driveway.
- I attended my cousin's bridal shower where I knocked over picture frames at the hostess' house and pulled out a small bag of Norwex laundry detergent that resembles cocaine.
- I forgot to pay the sitter.
- I have taken Ty to the pool twice and HE LOVES IT.
- We have filled up the wading pool a couple of times and TY LOVES IT.
- We had a city-wide power outage on one of the hottest days and in the midst of my sinus infection. I was forced to have Ty outside, playing in the water in the wading pool and eating popsicles. I also hosed the pups down to keep them cool.
- I have fully recuperated from Vegas. I think.
- I have managed to not workout religiously, but lose weight. Man am I missing it. Wow.
Those are the "highlights" of the last couple of weeks. If you want to call them all that. I'm going to be better about everything. I've got to. I feel like I'm losing my mind.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you sending me positive vibes, until next time...
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Happily Reporting Thanking All That is Holy
As I mentioned in my previous post, Vegas was very good to myself and PIC #2 aside from the excruciating exhaustion that I am feeling, I am happy to report that I weighed in this morning at 165.8. Hallelujah. Praise all that is holy. Yes, I am well aware that this is due in part to muscle loss, but you know what? I don't really care because the scale is going down right now and it is pretty good for someone that hasn't had an "official" workout in over a week. Again, hallelujah, praise all that is holy. It has been five years since I was this weight. Yeah, I'm serious. It is boosting my self-esteem like you wouldn't believe. And I may have cracked the code on making Oreos a part of a diet plan. Standby for my research.
While I haven't done an organized workout, I have still been keeping active. I have taken Ty to the pool, done a lot of housework. Okay, okay, a little bit of housework and a lot of playing with Ty. Tee hee.
For the next few weeks, a local park will hold free yoga classes on Saturday mornings featuring an instructor from the different yoga studios here in town. I must make it to one of these. My friend BK went today and said it was breezy and a great turnout.
Vacation is done. Now what? Well, I'll tell you. I can feel my focus, motivation and that drive coming back to me. It was like vacation was that one thing that I was hyper-focused on and needed it to pass in order to be able to refocus on my goals. I have smaller things going on that I am looking forward to, but nothing on the magnitude of Vegas. I am looking forward to a trip to the Omaha Zoo, Ty's first dentist visit, hanging out with friends, pedicures and more pool time. It seems really relaxed compared to what my schedule has been the last few months. Now that tutoring is done, I have another day of the week to fill up with something fun.
The weather has started to turn to summer - you know, hot and humid, but after being in dry 106 degree heat in Vegas, 86 with humidity feels a little chilly. No joke. Anyhoo, I am thinking about getting Ty a sprinkler, but as my sister pointed out, there is probably going to be a drought, so the chances of us using the sprinkler may make buying a sprinkler a moot point. I still like the idea.
I have no idea how I got to talking about sprinklers when I started out with a point in the first place of me stepping on the scale. Again, still very tired these days. It isn't even 8:30 on Saturday night and I am struggling staying up. Did you hear that???? It was my pillow calling out my name. Holy hell.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you that know this is how my brain works, until next time...
While I haven't done an organized workout, I have still been keeping active. I have taken Ty to the pool, done a lot of housework. Okay, okay, a little bit of housework and a lot of playing with Ty. Tee hee.
For the next few weeks, a local park will hold free yoga classes on Saturday mornings featuring an instructor from the different yoga studios here in town. I must make it to one of these. My friend BK went today and said it was breezy and a great turnout.
Vacation is done. Now what? Well, I'll tell you. I can feel my focus, motivation and that drive coming back to me. It was like vacation was that one thing that I was hyper-focused on and needed it to pass in order to be able to refocus on my goals. I have smaller things going on that I am looking forward to, but nothing on the magnitude of Vegas. I am looking forward to a trip to the Omaha Zoo, Ty's first dentist visit, hanging out with friends, pedicures and more pool time. It seems really relaxed compared to what my schedule has been the last few months. Now that tutoring is done, I have another day of the week to fill up with something fun.
The weather has started to turn to summer - you know, hot and humid, but after being in dry 106 degree heat in Vegas, 86 with humidity feels a little chilly. No joke. Anyhoo, I am thinking about getting Ty a sprinkler, but as my sister pointed out, there is probably going to be a drought, so the chances of us using the sprinkler may make buying a sprinkler a moot point. I still like the idea.
I have no idea how I got to talking about sprinklers when I started out with a point in the first place of me stepping on the scale. Again, still very tired these days. It isn't even 8:30 on Saturday night and I am struggling staying up. Did you hear that???? It was my pillow calling out my name. Holy hell.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you that know this is how my brain works, until next time...
Saturday, June 9, 2012
Vacations, they make you AWESOME. Part 2
Rooming with three other women sounds worse than it really was. My roomies for the weekend were great. I was pleased.
It wasn't until we were trying to deplane when PIC #2 struck me twice and pinched me!!! She really did. I'm not making this up like I stretched the truth about my uncle being in awe of my presence. It was all in good fun...until I get her back! Eh eh eh...
After we returned from our trip, PIC #2 went back to work the next day and as I said, I spent the day with Ty. She sent me a text and said she actually lost weight from Vegas. I just happened to be changing into my swimming suit when I got that and decided to hop on the scale to find out that after Vegas where I drank Starbucks every morning and had a piece of delicious cake along with that coffee, as well as had waffles, coffee and string cheese this morning, I had LOST over two pounds from my weight before Vegas. Like PIC #2 said, "Vegas was very good to us!" Indeed.
Now, Tyson broke the scale shortly thereafter this weigh-in and I wasn't able to weigh myself at my regular time which is prior to eating and drinking anything and right after I get up in the morning. I have since fixed the scale somehow and intend to weigh myself tomorrow morning. Needless to say, I have been pretty stoked with having lost weight especially since my performance has been less than stellar. Of course, I am pretty sure it is loss of muscle, but it sure helps the self-esteem!
When we were in Vegas, we went ziplining on Fremont Street. I just about lost it when I had to sign a waiver similar to the one you have to sign right before they shoot you up with anesthesia in the hospital for surgery. You know, the one that states that serious injury, paralysis, death, etc is a possibility. As I am initialing all of these boxes, I try to whisper to PIC #2 to see if she saw the "death" part. There was a guy in between us, so I waiting until he left and started whispering, okay, kind of a whisper scream, "Allyssa!" Without looking up or batting an eye, she continues to sign and says, "you will be fine." Damn, she knows me all too well. After she said it a few times, she was actually forced to make eye contact with me and tell me again, in a firm, mommy voice, "you WILL BE fine." Good 'nuff for me, apparently.
We did the zipline and it was just fine. The only issue I had was the way we were stopped. Abruptly. There is something on the cable to stop your harness from going any further down the cable and a young man grabs your harness on the butt and close to the crotch to stop the momentous flab (me). I do believe I thanked him for grabbing my ass and crotch. No joke. When I was stopped, I believe this is where I jarred my back. I didn't feel it until the next day and it still aches today. I'm getting old. Sigh.
Hopefully, I will have completed a workout pain-free by the next time I post. Here's to hope!!!!
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you thinking about trying my Vegas weight-loss system, until next time...
It wasn't until we were trying to deplane when PIC #2 struck me twice and pinched me!!! She really did. I'm not making this up like I stretched the truth about my uncle being in awe of my presence. It was all in good fun...until I get her back! Eh eh eh...
After we returned from our trip, PIC #2 went back to work the next day and as I said, I spent the day with Ty. She sent me a text and said she actually lost weight from Vegas. I just happened to be changing into my swimming suit when I got that and decided to hop on the scale to find out that after Vegas where I drank Starbucks every morning and had a piece of delicious cake along with that coffee, as well as had waffles, coffee and string cheese this morning, I had LOST over two pounds from my weight before Vegas. Like PIC #2 said, "Vegas was very good to us!" Indeed.
Now, Tyson broke the scale shortly thereafter this weigh-in and I wasn't able to weigh myself at my regular time which is prior to eating and drinking anything and right after I get up in the morning. I have since fixed the scale somehow and intend to weigh myself tomorrow morning. Needless to say, I have been pretty stoked with having lost weight especially since my performance has been less than stellar. Of course, I am pretty sure it is loss of muscle, but it sure helps the self-esteem!
When we were in Vegas, we went ziplining on Fremont Street. I just about lost it when I had to sign a waiver similar to the one you have to sign right before they shoot you up with anesthesia in the hospital for surgery. You know, the one that states that serious injury, paralysis, death, etc is a possibility. As I am initialing all of these boxes, I try to whisper to PIC #2 to see if she saw the "death" part. There was a guy in between us, so I waiting until he left and started whispering, okay, kind of a whisper scream, "Allyssa!" Without looking up or batting an eye, she continues to sign and says, "you will be fine." Damn, she knows me all too well. After she said it a few times, she was actually forced to make eye contact with me and tell me again, in a firm, mommy voice, "you WILL BE fine." Good 'nuff for me, apparently.
We did the zipline and it was just fine. The only issue I had was the way we were stopped. Abruptly. There is something on the cable to stop your harness from going any further down the cable and a young man grabs your harness on the butt and close to the crotch to stop the momentous flab (me). I do believe I thanked him for grabbing my ass and crotch. No joke. When I was stopped, I believe this is where I jarred my back. I didn't feel it until the next day and it still aches today. I'm getting old. Sigh.
Hopefully, I will have completed a workout pain-free by the next time I post. Here's to hope!!!!
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you thinking about trying my Vegas weight-loss system, until next time...
Friday, June 8, 2012
Vacations, they make you AWESOME. Part 1
As prepared to leave for vacation, my first overnight away from Ty, my mind runs away with me. I lost focus of everything. Now, you may think that I was consumed with the stress of leaving my little Sugarbear, but let me tell you, it had NOTHING to do with that and everything to do with plane crashes, dying and zombies. Yes, it is true. And no, I'm not joking.
I was 100% comfortable leaving Ty with Brett. There is no other person on the planet that I trust more than Brett with Ty. Makes for easier leaving. In come the thoughts of dying, crashes and zombies. Sigh. The anxiety I get from plane travel is almost enough to have me heavily medicated. It's funny because once I get to the airport and am on the plane, I'm pretty much fine. Traveling alone is worse. I was with my aunt and PIC #2. It doesn't really get much better than that! This serious and irrational thinking started about 7 years ago and it is only when I fly. Odd? It's me, nothing is really that odd.
Anyway, I had already planned to NOT workout on Friday because I knew we would be on an 8PM flight to Vegas and would be up late. I was glad I got the extra sleep because we stayed up late after we got to Vegas.
It was overwhelming and overstimulating being in Vegas, but I soaked it in. PIC #2 was way overwhelmed. We joined the young pups at the bar in the hotel and had a couple. PIC #2 and I retired a few hours after we got into town. My aunt, on the other hand, partied like it was 1999 and stayed out late!
The whole trip, I was the first one up and in the shower. I would go downstairs where there was a lovely Starbucks and I would have a venti white chocolate peppermint mocha non-fat no whip accompanied by a spectacular piece of coffee cake. Delicious and oh soooooooo healthy. Right.
We did a TON of walking while in Vegas. It really didn't feel like I was walking around much, but we definitely walked for miles. It was great, except for the heat. It was 106 degrees the Saturday we were there. It was hot, but it was way more bearable than the heat and humidity here in July. I will definitely take dry heat over damp heat any day, especially for my hair's sake. Having naturally wavy/curly hair makes for interesting humidity hair in Iowa during the summer. My hair looked great in Vegas. I miss my Vegas hair.
We shopped, ate, did the bachelorette party with the young babes and saw a show. It was great. I was never once worried about Tyson and if he was surviving without me because he was in capable hands. I had no guilt having fun, either.
I needed this short, but long weekend away. It had been over 3 years since I had been away and I still "took" Ty with me via the womb. Hardly counts. I was free as a bird from all mommy and wifely duties for three whole days. It was refreshing. Aside from feeling like I got hit by a bus due to jet lag, staying up late and up early and all the movement, I was feeling refreshed mentally. I forget how important it is to get out and recharge until it has been way too long. I got back to a little boy that was giddy I was finally home. A big boy with greater appreciation and two furry babies that missed the crap outta me. It was a nice homecoming.
I took an extra day off to hang out with Ty. I felt that since I missed out on two whole days of Tyson's life that I would have normally spent with him, that it would be good for me to spend a day with him one on one. It was a great day. He and I went to visit Brett at work, went to the grocery store and to the pool. He was so good. Way better than when I had left. He must have needed to recharge himself as well.
I've made a deal with myself to do something AT LEAST once a month by myself that I want to do. I'm not talking grocery shopping or picking up some toilet paper. I'm talking pedicures, shopping, good food (that I don't have to cook), hanging out with a friend or two or even ice skating. Okay, not so much the ice skating part, but the other stuff sounds good!
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you that are planning a trip to Vegas, until next time...
I was 100% comfortable leaving Ty with Brett. There is no other person on the planet that I trust more than Brett with Ty. Makes for easier leaving. In come the thoughts of dying, crashes and zombies. Sigh. The anxiety I get from plane travel is almost enough to have me heavily medicated. It's funny because once I get to the airport and am on the plane, I'm pretty much fine. Traveling alone is worse. I was with my aunt and PIC #2. It doesn't really get much better than that! This serious and irrational thinking started about 7 years ago and it is only when I fly. Odd? It's me, nothing is really that odd.
Anyway, I had already planned to NOT workout on Friday because I knew we would be on an 8PM flight to Vegas and would be up late. I was glad I got the extra sleep because we stayed up late after we got to Vegas.
It was overwhelming and overstimulating being in Vegas, but I soaked it in. PIC #2 was way overwhelmed. We joined the young pups at the bar in the hotel and had a couple. PIC #2 and I retired a few hours after we got into town. My aunt, on the other hand, partied like it was 1999 and stayed out late!
The whole trip, I was the first one up and in the shower. I would go downstairs where there was a lovely Starbucks and I would have a venti white chocolate peppermint mocha non-fat no whip accompanied by a spectacular piece of coffee cake. Delicious and oh soooooooo healthy. Right.
We did a TON of walking while in Vegas. It really didn't feel like I was walking around much, but we definitely walked for miles. It was great, except for the heat. It was 106 degrees the Saturday we were there. It was hot, but it was way more bearable than the heat and humidity here in July. I will definitely take dry heat over damp heat any day, especially for my hair's sake. Having naturally wavy/curly hair makes for interesting humidity hair in Iowa during the summer. My hair looked great in Vegas. I miss my Vegas hair.
We shopped, ate, did the bachelorette party with the young babes and saw a show. It was great. I was never once worried about Tyson and if he was surviving without me because he was in capable hands. I had no guilt having fun, either.
I needed this short, but long weekend away. It had been over 3 years since I had been away and I still "took" Ty with me via the womb. Hardly counts. I was free as a bird from all mommy and wifely duties for three whole days. It was refreshing. Aside from feeling like I got hit by a bus due to jet lag, staying up late and up early and all the movement, I was feeling refreshed mentally. I forget how important it is to get out and recharge until it has been way too long. I got back to a little boy that was giddy I was finally home. A big boy with greater appreciation and two furry babies that missed the crap outta me. It was a nice homecoming.
I took an extra day off to hang out with Ty. I felt that since I missed out on two whole days of Tyson's life that I would have normally spent with him, that it would be good for me to spend a day with him one on one. It was a great day. He and I went to visit Brett at work, went to the grocery store and to the pool. He was so good. Way better than when I had left. He must have needed to recharge himself as well.
I've made a deal with myself to do something AT LEAST once a month by myself that I want to do. I'm not talking grocery shopping or picking up some toilet paper. I'm talking pedicures, shopping, good food (that I don't have to cook), hanging out with a friend or two or even ice skating. Okay, not so much the ice skating part, but the other stuff sounds good!
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you that are planning a trip to Vegas, until next time...
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Insanity Days 15, 16 & 17
Day 15
Fit Test #2. Okay, so having an extra day off really screwed me up. I didn't do the Fit Test on Monday like I should have because I thought Monday was Sunday. Idiot.
I am happy to report that I improved in all tests, but one! Power jumps are just not my thing. I just cannot jump!!!!!! Goal? Maybe.
Day 16
Alright, alright, so with the excitement of my upcoming vacation, I slacked off a lot. Call me what you will, but the excitement was enough to make me just about puke. Therefore, I did not workout.
Day 17
What? Workout? What am I doing? I don't even know anymore. Again, I did not workout.
Soooooooo, as you can tell, I did a less than stellar job keeping up with myself. It is now the Thursday after my Vegas vacation and I have yet to workout. Excuses? Wanna hear 'em???? Okay, no excuse other than I feel like I have been hit by a bus and tweaked my back. I'm not even sure if these are "good" excuses because I just can't even see straight right now! My intent is to get up tomorrow and workout. I will do a Friday workout and start week 3 again, less the Fit Test, on Monday like I should have last week. Sigh. What can I do? Thank all that is holy that I am not in a competition right now. I would be losing miserably. Or would I? Stay tuned for the update on that one. I will post my Insanity research as it comes along like "normal." Whatever that means.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you wanting to slap the crap out of me right now, until next time...
Fit Test #2. Okay, so having an extra day off really screwed me up. I didn't do the Fit Test on Monday like I should have because I thought Monday was Sunday. Idiot.
I am happy to report that I improved in all tests, but one! Power jumps are just not my thing. I just cannot jump!!!!!! Goal? Maybe.
Day 16
Alright, alright, so with the excitement of my upcoming vacation, I slacked off a lot. Call me what you will, but the excitement was enough to make me just about puke. Therefore, I did not workout.
Day 17
What? Workout? What am I doing? I don't even know anymore. Again, I did not workout.
Soooooooo, as you can tell, I did a less than stellar job keeping up with myself. It is now the Thursday after my Vegas vacation and I have yet to workout. Excuses? Wanna hear 'em???? Okay, no excuse other than I feel like I have been hit by a bus and tweaked my back. I'm not even sure if these are "good" excuses because I just can't even see straight right now! My intent is to get up tomorrow and workout. I will do a Friday workout and start week 3 again, less the Fit Test, on Monday like I should have last week. Sigh. What can I do? Thank all that is holy that I am not in a competition right now. I would be losing miserably. Or would I? Stay tuned for the update on that one. I will post my Insanity research as it comes along like "normal." Whatever that means.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you wanting to slap the crap out of me right now, until next time...
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
While We Are Talking Cheerleading
Okay, when I had finally made the cheer squad, I decided it would be good to take a recreational gymnastics class to increase flexibility and strengthen my core and get some good conditioning before I actually started with the squad the next season.
You know how I'm a terrible dancer and in my adult life, a terrible gymnast? Well, I can't say that I was much better at gymnastics as a child, either. I wasn't good at all. I just really liked it a lot as a kid. So, there we are one evening, working on SIMPLE things on the trapezoid and the springboard. You know, straddle over the trapezoid, side sweep of the legs over the trapezoid and the tuck through on, you guessed it, the trapezoid. It wasn't even a real horse. Sigh.
Anyhoo, they kept piling on the trapezoid pieces. At this point, it was about 5 feet tall. I told the coach that it was too tall for me to go over it. She said to just do it. So, I did. I ran as fast as I could, hit that springboard as hard as I could, got up there, placed my hands on the trapezoid and went to put my feet through my arms and... uh-oh, it WAS too tall! The tops of my feet and my ankles caught the side of the trap and I fell forward, sliding down on my belly onto the mats below, but my calfs were touching my head. I was pretty much folded in half and couldn't breathe. (Right about now, my sister is laughing at this and she wasn't even there, but the imagery is enough to make her laugh until she cries) The coaches all run up to me and tell me not to move. Uhhhh, I'm not going to just lie there and leave my legs up there, not able to breathe, so I rolled at least where I could get my legs down and get on my back. An ambulance was called, got a ride to the hospital only to find that I had cracked a couple of ribs and bruised a lot of ribs and was very lucky I didn't break my back. Sigh. Yeah, that all really happened.
My second year of cheerleading, during a stunt and a school pep assembly, the flyer lost balance and fell. She fell on my face. It was her hip bone on my nose, to be exact. I blacked out for a couple seconds and had to leave the gym floor. Went to the doctor to find that my nose, while not a clean break, was indeed cracked and I could expect my eyes to blacken in the days to come. Yay.
As I was telling the story to one of my friends at school, while walking down the hall, I happened to mention that the gal that fell on my nose and broke it, actually got pissed and said, "YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO CATCH ME!" Yeah, pretty sure I did, WITH MY FACE. She didn't ask if I was okay, which I also mentioned and I said to my friend, "crap, I better look around to make sure she isn't behind me or something." I looked, I didn't see her behind me. The girl that I caught with my face approached me at practice that day and said she was behind me, but I didn't see her. She felt awful and I felt like an asshole. As any good cheerleader does, I hugged it out with her. Seriously. Yeah, this really happened.
The point of THESE stories? NO PAIN, NO GAIN! Now, go get 'em, tiger!!!!!!!!
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you still in disbelief that I was ever a cheerleader, until next time. . .
You know how I'm a terrible dancer and in my adult life, a terrible gymnast? Well, I can't say that I was much better at gymnastics as a child, either. I wasn't good at all. I just really liked it a lot as a kid. So, there we are one evening, working on SIMPLE things on the trapezoid and the springboard. You know, straddle over the trapezoid, side sweep of the legs over the trapezoid and the tuck through on, you guessed it, the trapezoid. It wasn't even a real horse. Sigh.
Anyhoo, they kept piling on the trapezoid pieces. At this point, it was about 5 feet tall. I told the coach that it was too tall for me to go over it. She said to just do it. So, I did. I ran as fast as I could, hit that springboard as hard as I could, got up there, placed my hands on the trapezoid and went to put my feet through my arms and... uh-oh, it WAS too tall! The tops of my feet and my ankles caught the side of the trap and I fell forward, sliding down on my belly onto the mats below, but my calfs were touching my head. I was pretty much folded in half and couldn't breathe. (Right about now, my sister is laughing at this and she wasn't even there, but the imagery is enough to make her laugh until she cries) The coaches all run up to me and tell me not to move. Uhhhh, I'm not going to just lie there and leave my legs up there, not able to breathe, so I rolled at least where I could get my legs down and get on my back. An ambulance was called, got a ride to the hospital only to find that I had cracked a couple of ribs and bruised a lot of ribs and was very lucky I didn't break my back. Sigh. Yeah, that all really happened.
My second year of cheerleading, during a stunt and a school pep assembly, the flyer lost balance and fell. She fell on my face. It was her hip bone on my nose, to be exact. I blacked out for a couple seconds and had to leave the gym floor. Went to the doctor to find that my nose, while not a clean break, was indeed cracked and I could expect my eyes to blacken in the days to come. Yay.
As I was telling the story to one of my friends at school, while walking down the hall, I happened to mention that the gal that fell on my nose and broke it, actually got pissed and said, "YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO CATCH ME!" Yeah, pretty sure I did, WITH MY FACE. She didn't ask if I was okay, which I also mentioned and I said to my friend, "crap, I better look around to make sure she isn't behind me or something." I looked, I didn't see her behind me. The girl that I caught with my face approached me at practice that day and said she was behind me, but I didn't see her. She felt awful and I felt like an asshole. As any good cheerleader does, I hugged it out with her. Seriously. Yeah, this really happened.
The point of THESE stories? NO PAIN, NO GAIN! Now, go get 'em, tiger!!!!!!!!
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you still in disbelief that I was ever a cheerleader, until next time. . .
Monday, June 4, 2012
Vicious Cycles and Another Chapter in the History with PIC #2
Almost anything is a cycle. The whole working out thing is also cyclic. You know, you are going along, doing really well, making it happen, then something happens, you lose focus, gain weight, get lazy, then you decide to do something about it and the cycle starts all over again. It is unfortunate that being human gets in the way and this is how it happens. I think the ones that this doesn't happen to are the lucky ones. I'm not so lucky. At all.
You may be surprised to know that I was a cheerleader in high school. Yup. I was. As I mentioned before, my family was not a physically motivated one by nature. I was still pretty stinking chubby as a freshman in high school, but I worked so very hard to make the sophomore cheer squad. My jean hiking dad was not happy that I would be prancing (literally a way to move as a cheerleader, by the way) in a short skirt. I look at pictures of the first time I wore that uniform and it really isn't too pretty. Chubby legs, but getting there.
Anyhoo, I continued cheerleading for my sophomore, junior and part of my senior year. I loved it. Cheerleading was my passion. It was really what I lived to do. I really loved it. I actually felt it was something that I was decent at doing for the time that I did it.
It was in the early fall, my sister was having her cheerleading pictures taken at a local park, I had my jean hiking dad's car for the week while he was on vacation, it was after school and PIC #2 and I were going to spend the afternoon until we had to pick my sister up at another local park and hangout for our friends. We stopped at home and I briefly thought about taking the family dog with us, but decided against it. PIC #2 and I were on our way, stopped waiting to turn into the park and we were hit from behind by a woman going extremely fast. The impact pushed us into oncoming traffic and we hit the side of an oncoming vehicle with the front of our car. Gasoline was pouring out everywhere, we get out, dazed and slightly confused. We were met shortly thereafter by some of our friends who had heard the accident.
None of my friends wanted me to look at the car, which everyone knew that my dad had purchased brand new in the 1970's. The car was accordioned up the front and the back. The back seat was touching the back of the front seats. The only part that wasn't smashed was the compartment that PIC #2 and I were sitting in. Neither one of us was seriously injured. She and I felt it the next morning and had whiplash, but that's all we knew at the time. We later found out that the woman driving the car was on her way to take her mother to dialysis when her mother started "gurgling." She started to tend to her mother, foot on the accelerator and accelerated straight into us, turning at the very last millisecond to try and avoid the crash.
I started cheerleading and had a bit of pain in my left knee. I worked through it, icing it, kept going to practice and just pushed on. One of the first games we cheered, my knee swelled up to the size of a softball. It was hot to the touch and just plain weird. I had to sit out a bulk of that game in the stands and tried to ice it. It was difficult to walk and felt like there was bone grinding against bone when I would walk.
Went to the doctor and had an MRI. The doctor found that the cartilage behind my kneecap was rigid, jagged and indeed grinding against the bone. Upon closer examination, it seemed that the months of working through the pain and soreness did me no good. My leg had retrained itself to adjust and alleviate the pain by using different muscles. A "normal" motion of you kneecap when you bend and straighten your leg is an "s" and mine was an "L." Great. The doctor's solution: arthroscopic surgery to remove and smooth the kneecap and to snip the muscle that was pulling my kneecap in the "L" direction to strengthen and retrain my muscles. Yay. Not really. During the accident, the placement of my left leg (which I do NOT do to this day) was outstretched and almost straight, which was how I used to drive. Upon the impact, the doctor concluded that I basically jammed the knee. Great.
The surgery was awful. It was painful and the recovery was terrible. I have problems every now and again with storms and if my shoes aren't cushiony enough on hard surfaces for prolonged amounts of time. Anyhoo, I had to drop cheerleading and it was devastating to me. I hated having to do that. Fortunate for me, during this time, my metabolism still actually worked and I didn't have to worry too much about keeping the weight off. I wasn't able to resume full activity for quite a while, but by then, cheerleading was over and I had graduated and started college. Working out didn't have the same meaning as it did when I had cheerleading goals and reasons to be working out, other than the sheer pleasure to workout. I struggled with that for a long time.
Point of this story? It IS important to have goals. They can be YOUR goals and they can be trivial (me wanting to be able to get out of my car and flip my hair with confidence). They can be important. They can be meaningful. Or they can be that "something" you need to keep pushing on. Whatever your reason may be, make it your own. Find your niche. Find what it was that you thought you had lost.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you that are in disbelief that I was ever a cheerleader, until next time...
You may be surprised to know that I was a cheerleader in high school. Yup. I was. As I mentioned before, my family was not a physically motivated one by nature. I was still pretty stinking chubby as a freshman in high school, but I worked so very hard to make the sophomore cheer squad. My jean hiking dad was not happy that I would be prancing (literally a way to move as a cheerleader, by the way) in a short skirt. I look at pictures of the first time I wore that uniform and it really isn't too pretty. Chubby legs, but getting there.
Anyhoo, I continued cheerleading for my sophomore, junior and part of my senior year. I loved it. Cheerleading was my passion. It was really what I lived to do. I really loved it. I actually felt it was something that I was decent at doing for the time that I did it.
It was in the early fall, my sister was having her cheerleading pictures taken at a local park, I had my jean hiking dad's car for the week while he was on vacation, it was after school and PIC #2 and I were going to spend the afternoon until we had to pick my sister up at another local park and hangout for our friends. We stopped at home and I briefly thought about taking the family dog with us, but decided against it. PIC #2 and I were on our way, stopped waiting to turn into the park and we were hit from behind by a woman going extremely fast. The impact pushed us into oncoming traffic and we hit the side of an oncoming vehicle with the front of our car. Gasoline was pouring out everywhere, we get out, dazed and slightly confused. We were met shortly thereafter by some of our friends who had heard the accident.
None of my friends wanted me to look at the car, which everyone knew that my dad had purchased brand new in the 1970's. The car was accordioned up the front and the back. The back seat was touching the back of the front seats. The only part that wasn't smashed was the compartment that PIC #2 and I were sitting in. Neither one of us was seriously injured. She and I felt it the next morning and had whiplash, but that's all we knew at the time. We later found out that the woman driving the car was on her way to take her mother to dialysis when her mother started "gurgling." She started to tend to her mother, foot on the accelerator and accelerated straight into us, turning at the very last millisecond to try and avoid the crash.
I started cheerleading and had a bit of pain in my left knee. I worked through it, icing it, kept going to practice and just pushed on. One of the first games we cheered, my knee swelled up to the size of a softball. It was hot to the touch and just plain weird. I had to sit out a bulk of that game in the stands and tried to ice it. It was difficult to walk and felt like there was bone grinding against bone when I would walk.
Went to the doctor and had an MRI. The doctor found that the cartilage behind my kneecap was rigid, jagged and indeed grinding against the bone. Upon closer examination, it seemed that the months of working through the pain and soreness did me no good. My leg had retrained itself to adjust and alleviate the pain by using different muscles. A "normal" motion of you kneecap when you bend and straighten your leg is an "s" and mine was an "L." Great. The doctor's solution: arthroscopic surgery to remove and smooth the kneecap and to snip the muscle that was pulling my kneecap in the "L" direction to strengthen and retrain my muscles. Yay. Not really. During the accident, the placement of my left leg (which I do NOT do to this day) was outstretched and almost straight, which was how I used to drive. Upon the impact, the doctor concluded that I basically jammed the knee. Great.
The surgery was awful. It was painful and the recovery was terrible. I have problems every now and again with storms and if my shoes aren't cushiony enough on hard surfaces for prolonged amounts of time. Anyhoo, I had to drop cheerleading and it was devastating to me. I hated having to do that. Fortunate for me, during this time, my metabolism still actually worked and I didn't have to worry too much about keeping the weight off. I wasn't able to resume full activity for quite a while, but by then, cheerleading was over and I had graduated and started college. Working out didn't have the same meaning as it did when I had cheerleading goals and reasons to be working out, other than the sheer pleasure to workout. I struggled with that for a long time.
Point of this story? It IS important to have goals. They can be YOUR goals and they can be trivial (me wanting to be able to get out of my car and flip my hair with confidence). They can be important. They can be meaningful. Or they can be that "something" you need to keep pushing on. Whatever your reason may be, make it your own. Find your niche. Find what it was that you thought you had lost.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you that are in disbelief that I was ever a cheerleader, until next time...
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Taking a Break... From WWTC?
Hello, everyone! During my time off from the real world, I have decided to take some time off as well from my fun things, too! I will start posting again on Tuesday, June 5! I will hopefully have new adventures of myself and PIC #2.
Stay tuned!!!!
Trish and the WWTC? Staff (Trish)
Stay tuned!!!!
Trish and the WWTC? Staff (Trish)
Monday, May 28, 2012
Mother's Day
I know, a little late in posting this, but I had too much that I wanted to get out last week that I couldn't post this any earlier.
This Mother's Day was the first one that Brett took Ty to the store and let him pick out my Mother's Day gift(s). Brett asked Ty, "what should we get mommy for a present?" Ty replies, "cups." Plain and simple. Yes, cups.
Let me back-track a bit and explain a bit. The last two gifts that Ty has helped give have been cups. I bought both sets of grandparents some small, plastic, kid cups to keep at their houses because neither one had any. After I bought them, I had Ty give them to each set of grandparents as a present for no particular reason, but to just give a present to someone else.
Okay, back to Ty wanting to get ME cups. Get it now? Yeah, makes sense in the mind of a 2 1/2 year old. So, Brett and Tyson went to Target and Brett let him pick out the brightest yellow acrylic cup with bright yellow straw, just like the green ones that Ty and I have at home, except he got me the 20 ounce cup! Talk about a dream come true. And no, I'm not joking. I love those insulated cups. Love them! Obviously, Ty knows that I love them, too!
Along with my yellow cup, I got a four pack of bright orange kid cups!! Ha! It still makes me smile to recall pulling those out of the gift bag. See my back-tracking for the explanation, if you missed it.
Also in the gift bag was a FIFTY (50) pack of Crayola markers!! I love to color. I love to color with Ty. How perfect was that? I know, part of his gift was self-serving, but really, when you get down to it, there really isn't anyone on the planet that spends as much time coloring with him than myself. I'm actually surprised I didn't get a bunch of stickers, too.
And because Brett didn't want me to just end up with a bag full of crap (in the event Ty didn't do so stellar), I also got a gift certificate for a pedicure at my favorite salon. Perfect!
It was a pretty good Mother's Day all in all. I spent the majority of it with my little family and we did carry-out for supper. Dream come true. Loved every moment spent with them.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you wondering what in the "h" this has to do with chewing, working out or motivation, until next time...
This Mother's Day was the first one that Brett took Ty to the store and let him pick out my Mother's Day gift(s). Brett asked Ty, "what should we get mommy for a present?" Ty replies, "cups." Plain and simple. Yes, cups.
Let me back-track a bit and explain a bit. The last two gifts that Ty has helped give have been cups. I bought both sets of grandparents some small, plastic, kid cups to keep at their houses because neither one had any. After I bought them, I had Ty give them to each set of grandparents as a present for no particular reason, but to just give a present to someone else.
Okay, back to Ty wanting to get ME cups. Get it now? Yeah, makes sense in the mind of a 2 1/2 year old. So, Brett and Tyson went to Target and Brett let him pick out the brightest yellow acrylic cup with bright yellow straw, just like the green ones that Ty and I have at home, except he got me the 20 ounce cup! Talk about a dream come true. And no, I'm not joking. I love those insulated cups. Love them! Obviously, Ty knows that I love them, too!
Along with my yellow cup, I got a four pack of bright orange kid cups!! Ha! It still makes me smile to recall pulling those out of the gift bag. See my back-tracking for the explanation, if you missed it.
Also in the gift bag was a FIFTY (50) pack of Crayola markers!! I love to color. I love to color with Ty. How perfect was that? I know, part of his gift was self-serving, but really, when you get down to it, there really isn't anyone on the planet that spends as much time coloring with him than myself. I'm actually surprised I didn't get a bunch of stickers, too.
And because Brett didn't want me to just end up with a bag full of crap (in the event Ty didn't do so stellar), I also got a gift certificate for a pedicure at my favorite salon. Perfect!
It was a pretty good Mother's Day all in all. I spent the majority of it with my little family and we did carry-out for supper. Dream come true. Loved every moment spent with them.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you wondering what in the "h" this has to do with chewing, working out or motivation, until next time...
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Spiders. A How To Approach.
I am the Spider Slayer of the household. Brett doesn't like to squish them if he doesn't have to. Lately, we have had a serious amount of spiders in our house. Not unusual for this time of year, but man have they been big! I'm talking bodies the sizes of quarters, with legs, they are about the size of half dollars. Yikes! I usually whack them with a fly swatter, if they are in optimal position like the floor or an easily accessible wall.
Now, I kind of like spiders because they eat smaller insects. The reason I don't like spiders - they get in your bedroom and bite you while you sleep. When you wake up, you have mysterious bites and can end up feeling violated and sick.
In the past, I have been incredibly diligent about making sure the windows in my car are up before I park it for the night in the garage. With Ty adding his flare of distraction or wanting one of the back windows down for the ride home from the sitter's house, I continue to leave windows down while it is in the garage. One morning, I was driving to work, still a little bit dark and there, dangling in front of my face was a spider. I had to grab him with my bare hands. I couldn't get the heebie jeebies out for the entire day.
When Brett and I moved into the house we are in now, we had just had my sister and her husband over and they left. I went down to start some laundry and found the biggest spider I have ever seen. It put the half dollar spiders we are seeing now, to shame. I called them to ask if it when they put the fake spider down there because I didn't recall them going down there. They had no idea what I was talking about. I showed the spider to Brett. He left the room. I was left thinking, "how in the world should I approach this thing?"
Some of you may ask why I asked myself this. Well, let me tell you. There is always this lingering feeling that the shoes you are wearing aren't flat enough to squash the spider efficiently, meaning if you were wearing tennis shoes with treads, the spider COULD get through the treads and get on TOP of your shoe and then crawl up your leg and send you into a screaming frenzy. What if you were barefoot? I was this time around. If you go to get an adequate pair of shoes on and you come back and the spider isn't there, are you going to be sleeping that night? NEVER take your eye off the spider. EVER. There is also the thought that if you use a paper towel, it is rather difficult to hold a paper towel with enough flat surface to do the squashing while having a sufficient grip on the paper towel to avoid it jumping on TOP of the paper towel and up your arm, commencing the same type of screaming frenzy. Okay, so use a tissue? Well, HOW MANY should you use? One, the spider might break through the delicate tissue. Two, you may have created too many ridges (see paper towel example). If you use a tool, like wood or a newspaper, you again run the risk of it getting on TOP of your tool. More screaming frenzies.
Just as I am running through my options and haven't found one that I am satisfied with, Brett returns to the basement with a BB gun. Yes, a BB gun. He took care of the spider with a BB gun. Yes, a BB gun. Right there, that should tell you how large this spider was because most spiders would get blown across a floor with the air puff of a BB gun. Not this one. Huge, I tell ya. Huge.
I keep meaning to go around the outside of the house and spray Home Defense because it really does work. But I am sitting here blogging and it is dark and I really do not want to get under the deck in the dark. That's a concussion waiting to happen.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you scanning your walls and ceilings for spiders, until next time...
Now, I kind of like spiders because they eat smaller insects. The reason I don't like spiders - they get in your bedroom and bite you while you sleep. When you wake up, you have mysterious bites and can end up feeling violated and sick.
In the past, I have been incredibly diligent about making sure the windows in my car are up before I park it for the night in the garage. With Ty adding his flare of distraction or wanting one of the back windows down for the ride home from the sitter's house, I continue to leave windows down while it is in the garage. One morning, I was driving to work, still a little bit dark and there, dangling in front of my face was a spider. I had to grab him with my bare hands. I couldn't get the heebie jeebies out for the entire day.
When Brett and I moved into the house we are in now, we had just had my sister and her husband over and they left. I went down to start some laundry and found the biggest spider I have ever seen. It put the half dollar spiders we are seeing now, to shame. I called them to ask if it when they put the fake spider down there because I didn't recall them going down there. They had no idea what I was talking about. I showed the spider to Brett. He left the room. I was left thinking, "how in the world should I approach this thing?"
Some of you may ask why I asked myself this. Well, let me tell you. There is always this lingering feeling that the shoes you are wearing aren't flat enough to squash the spider efficiently, meaning if you were wearing tennis shoes with treads, the spider COULD get through the treads and get on TOP of your shoe and then crawl up your leg and send you into a screaming frenzy. What if you were barefoot? I was this time around. If you go to get an adequate pair of shoes on and you come back and the spider isn't there, are you going to be sleeping that night? NEVER take your eye off the spider. EVER. There is also the thought that if you use a paper towel, it is rather difficult to hold a paper towel with enough flat surface to do the squashing while having a sufficient grip on the paper towel to avoid it jumping on TOP of the paper towel and up your arm, commencing the same type of screaming frenzy. Okay, so use a tissue? Well, HOW MANY should you use? One, the spider might break through the delicate tissue. Two, you may have created too many ridges (see paper towel example). If you use a tool, like wood or a newspaper, you again run the risk of it getting on TOP of your tool. More screaming frenzies.
Just as I am running through my options and haven't found one that I am satisfied with, Brett returns to the basement with a BB gun. Yes, a BB gun. He took care of the spider with a BB gun. Yes, a BB gun. Right there, that should tell you how large this spider was because most spiders would get blown across a floor with the air puff of a BB gun. Not this one. Huge, I tell ya. Huge.
I keep meaning to go around the outside of the house and spray Home Defense because it really does work. But I am sitting here blogging and it is dark and I really do not want to get under the deck in the dark. That's a concussion waiting to happen.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you scanning your walls and ceilings for spiders, until next time...
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Insanity Days 7, 8, 9 and 10
Day 7
Sundays are "rest" days for Insanity. Bonus for me since Sundays are also my free days. It was a rough weekend, so the extra rest day was welcome. However, in true Trisha style, I will be doing something else on Sundays to get my workout in. Already looking forward to it so I can workout with Ty.
Day 8
Today was a repeat of a class last week. It was Cardio Power and Resistance. I am already seeing a ton of improvement in myself. That really does help the motivation. Note to anyone wanting to know: this is the one where Shaun T starts out wearing a long sleeved shirt and takes it off mid-workout. The man is ripped. Yuck. (that is for Brett and my cousins Adam and Amanda if they happen to be reading this. Tee hee.)
I will also confess that after this weekend's craziness (Ty got sick, long story, very short for now), I DID crawl back into bed when I woke at 4:14 a minute before my alarm went off. I am so glad my brain kicked in and made it impossible for me to sleep and was literally screaming at me to get my ass out of bed and workout. I am glad that I did it. I would have regretted it if I didn't get up. It is now 5:30, workout is complete, a load of laundry switched out, coffee made, diaper bag packed and I am blogging about it. Talk about a productive morning!
I am on another round of antibiotics and am not supposed to have calcium within two hours of taking the pill. This is unfortunate because I am not taking my usual protein shake with milk, but instead am opting for a protein bar with less calcium. For some reason, my body doesn't like chewing this early in the morning. It is making for an interesting ten minutes.
Day 9
We are going to forget that today happened. My alarm didn't go off today. Funny how yesterday I woke up before it went off and today I just kept on sleeping.
I walked during breaks at work and that's about it.
I am back on the horse tomorrow. Getting my head in the game. Tomorrow. Just more proof for you all that, contrary to public belief, I am NOT superhuman. Except when I wear my Wonder Woman shirt, then the gloves are off. I admit, I ate more Doritos today than anyone should in a month. Nice.
Day 10
Since I missed yesterday's workout, I did it today. Plyometric Cardio. This is the same as workout #2 last week. Out of breath and muscle fatigue set in. My brain wants me to keep going, but my body just can't seem to join the club.
I give it my best, but find myself upset that I didn't do better. Confession: as I have a coughing fit, am incredibly sweaty and feeling a little like the control I usually have over my body is taking a break, I once again wet my pants. Yes. I did. Another reason for me to not join a gym. I don't think I would magically stop whizzing my pants if I joined a gym. I think my body just gets confused during high intensity workouts.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you whizzing your pants, until next time...
Sundays are "rest" days for Insanity. Bonus for me since Sundays are also my free days. It was a rough weekend, so the extra rest day was welcome. However, in true Trisha style, I will be doing something else on Sundays to get my workout in. Already looking forward to it so I can workout with Ty.
Day 8
Today was a repeat of a class last week. It was Cardio Power and Resistance. I am already seeing a ton of improvement in myself. That really does help the motivation. Note to anyone wanting to know: this is the one where Shaun T starts out wearing a long sleeved shirt and takes it off mid-workout. The man is ripped. Yuck. (that is for Brett and my cousins Adam and Amanda if they happen to be reading this. Tee hee.)
I will also confess that after this weekend's craziness (Ty got sick, long story, very short for now), I DID crawl back into bed when I woke at 4:14 a minute before my alarm went off. I am so glad my brain kicked in and made it impossible for me to sleep and was literally screaming at me to get my ass out of bed and workout. I am glad that I did it. I would have regretted it if I didn't get up. It is now 5:30, workout is complete, a load of laundry switched out, coffee made, diaper bag packed and I am blogging about it. Talk about a productive morning!
I am on another round of antibiotics and am not supposed to have calcium within two hours of taking the pill. This is unfortunate because I am not taking my usual protein shake with milk, but instead am opting for a protein bar with less calcium. For some reason, my body doesn't like chewing this early in the morning. It is making for an interesting ten minutes.
Day 9
We are going to forget that today happened. My alarm didn't go off today. Funny how yesterday I woke up before it went off and today I just kept on sleeping.
I walked during breaks at work and that's about it.
I am back on the horse tomorrow. Getting my head in the game. Tomorrow. Just more proof for you all that, contrary to public belief, I am NOT superhuman. Except when I wear my Wonder Woman shirt, then the gloves are off. I admit, I ate more Doritos today than anyone should in a month. Nice.
Day 10
Since I missed yesterday's workout, I did it today. Plyometric Cardio. This is the same as workout #2 last week. Out of breath and muscle fatigue set in. My brain wants me to keep going, but my body just can't seem to join the club.
I give it my best, but find myself upset that I didn't do better. Confession: as I have a coughing fit, am incredibly sweaty and feeling a little like the control I usually have over my body is taking a break, I once again wet my pants. Yes. I did. Another reason for me to not join a gym. I don't think I would magically stop whizzing my pants if I joined a gym. I think my body just gets confused during high intensity workouts.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you whizzing your pants, until next time...
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
While We're Talking About Hair
As I was typing my previous post about my Liberty Bell hairdo, I remembered a couple other times that I had some horrendous hair mishaps. No, I'm not talking about my 3rd grade, 4th grade, 5th grade, 6th grade or 7th grade hairdos. Those don't count. I'm talking in my adult life. And no, I'm not talking about the senior year cheerleading picture, either.
When I was in college, I was sitting at home watching Lifetime movies and the star of the movie I was watching had the CUTEST haircut EVER. She had long layers and it just looked so nice. Having the same face shape as yours truly, I thought that would be a nice, subtle change-up with my current cut, which was just long and long. I wasted no time in heading to the mall to a Regis salon. I was met by a middle-aged woman and I described what it was that I wanted to do, having the shortest layers being about the bottom of my ear length when dry, the rest would be longer yet and just a trim off the bottom. She sounded and looked like she understood what I was saying. She shampooed and conditioned my hair and divided my hair up and used clips to hold chunks of hair out of the way.
She started with the front right quadrant of my head. I was not totally facing the mirror, but could tell once she started to cut that something wasn't right. She lopped off about 6 inches to bring the front quarter of my hair butt up against my earlobe. I exclaimed, "WAIT! What are you doing?!" She said, "isn't this what you said you wanted?" I said, "NO!" And that's when I began to cry. She whispered in my ear as I am sobbing, "this was just a miscommunication." Ummmmmmm, no shit?! She proceeds to ask ME how she wants me to fix my hair!!! Yes, you, the professional, ask the woman sitting in your chair in hysterics how YOU should "fix" her hair. I'm crying and in between sobs I say, "I don't know! How do you fix something like this!?!"
Well, let me tell you how she "fixed" it. She gave me a mullet. Yes, a mullet. No, I'm not making it up. Granted, it was what I would envision someone who is trying to grow their mullet out would look like. The front quarters of my hair were at least 6 inches shorter than the back half of my head. Nope, not joking. It was awful. I got a 10% discount for that cut, which, by the way was the same discount as my student discount.
I left the salon and had to pass through the store my now brother-in-law worked. Fortunately/unfortunately, he was working as I passed through looking like I had just heard the saddest news on the planet. He stopped me and wanted to know what was going on. I had just stopped crying, but upon having to rehash the horror, I said, again sobbing, in the middle of Scheels, "Jay, I got a haircut and I ended up with a MULLET!" He immediately starts to laugh and says, "Come on, it can't be THAT bad!" I pulled the ponytail holder out of my hair to reveal the mulletude. Me, still crying. In the middle of Scheels. He says, "Oh. Oh, man." He is again laughing and says, "Wow, Trish, when I saw you crying, I thought your Sunny had died or something!" I said, "Jay! This is SERIOUS! I. Have. A. Mullet!! I have to go." I abruptly left the store and headed for home. In the meantime, Jay called Brett to give him a heads up on the situation.
I arrive home to have Brett react almost the same way, but have some sort of compassion for my outburst of emotion for the trauma of sporting a mullet in the new millennium. No one should have to do that. No one.
The next day, I called the salon, spoke to a manager, who told me to come in immediately and she would fix it AND refund my money. She completely understood what having a mullet meant to me. I went, she fixed, I lived to tell about it.
I might as well give you the synopsis of the last mishap with my hair. It was 2 months before our wedding, I colored my hair at home, which I had done a million times over. This time, however, the dye left a red stripe all around my head like a very strange halo. It was two inches from the roots and was a stripe about 3 inches wide. ALL THE WAY around my head. For the next two months before our wedding, I had to go to a salon twice a week for three weeks, then once a week for 3 weeks to have my hair stripped and detoxed only to have it dyed again days before the wedding. That was over 300 dollars worth of "oopsie." Never happened again after that. Odd it HAD to happen right before I was about to get married. Go figure.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you really wondering how I don't have my own sitcom, until next time...
When I was in college, I was sitting at home watching Lifetime movies and the star of the movie I was watching had the CUTEST haircut EVER. She had long layers and it just looked so nice. Having the same face shape as yours truly, I thought that would be a nice, subtle change-up with my current cut, which was just long and long. I wasted no time in heading to the mall to a Regis salon. I was met by a middle-aged woman and I described what it was that I wanted to do, having the shortest layers being about the bottom of my ear length when dry, the rest would be longer yet and just a trim off the bottom. She sounded and looked like she understood what I was saying. She shampooed and conditioned my hair and divided my hair up and used clips to hold chunks of hair out of the way.
She started with the front right quadrant of my head. I was not totally facing the mirror, but could tell once she started to cut that something wasn't right. She lopped off about 6 inches to bring the front quarter of my hair butt up against my earlobe. I exclaimed, "WAIT! What are you doing?!" She said, "isn't this what you said you wanted?" I said, "NO!" And that's when I began to cry. She whispered in my ear as I am sobbing, "this was just a miscommunication." Ummmmmmm, no shit?! She proceeds to ask ME how she wants me to fix my hair!!! Yes, you, the professional, ask the woman sitting in your chair in hysterics how YOU should "fix" her hair. I'm crying and in between sobs I say, "I don't know! How do you fix something like this!?!"
Well, let me tell you how she "fixed" it. She gave me a mullet. Yes, a mullet. No, I'm not making it up. Granted, it was what I would envision someone who is trying to grow their mullet out would look like. The front quarters of my hair were at least 6 inches shorter than the back half of my head. Nope, not joking. It was awful. I got a 10% discount for that cut, which, by the way was the same discount as my student discount.
I left the salon and had to pass through the store my now brother-in-law worked. Fortunately/unfortunately, he was working as I passed through looking like I had just heard the saddest news on the planet. He stopped me and wanted to know what was going on. I had just stopped crying, but upon having to rehash the horror, I said, again sobbing, in the middle of Scheels, "Jay, I got a haircut and I ended up with a MULLET!" He immediately starts to laugh and says, "Come on, it can't be THAT bad!" I pulled the ponytail holder out of my hair to reveal the mulletude. Me, still crying. In the middle of Scheels. He says, "Oh. Oh, man." He is again laughing and says, "Wow, Trish, when I saw you crying, I thought your Sunny had died or something!" I said, "Jay! This is SERIOUS! I. Have. A. Mullet!! I have to go." I abruptly left the store and headed for home. In the meantime, Jay called Brett to give him a heads up on the situation.
I arrive home to have Brett react almost the same way, but have some sort of compassion for my outburst of emotion for the trauma of sporting a mullet in the new millennium. No one should have to do that. No one.
The next day, I called the salon, spoke to a manager, who told me to come in immediately and she would fix it AND refund my money. She completely understood what having a mullet meant to me. I went, she fixed, I lived to tell about it.
I might as well give you the synopsis of the last mishap with my hair. It was 2 months before our wedding, I colored my hair at home, which I had done a million times over. This time, however, the dye left a red stripe all around my head like a very strange halo. It was two inches from the roots and was a stripe about 3 inches wide. ALL THE WAY around my head. For the next two months before our wedding, I had to go to a salon twice a week for three weeks, then once a week for 3 weeks to have my hair stripped and detoxed only to have it dyed again days before the wedding. That was over 300 dollars worth of "oopsie." Never happened again after that. Odd it HAD to happen right before I was about to get married. Go figure.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you really wondering how I don't have my own sitcom, until next time...
Monday, May 21, 2012
The Things You Do for Family
My sister-in-law is a hair stylist. Let me also preface this with the fact that she has been a stylist for some time now and this is an old story that I am telling because it makes my sister-in-law laugh until she is crying because only up until this year, 2012, did I confess to her what truly happened that day.
When she was first in Cosmetology school, which was over ten years ago now, she needed to have people come in and get their hair cut so she could be graded. This was before she was technically my sister-in-law because Brett and I wouldn't be married until the next summer. I had never been afraid of getting my hair cut because my mantra was always, "it will grow back!" Just take a look at my senior year of high school cheerleading pictures. Eek. Anyhoo, Brett was a little worried about me letting her cut my hair and kept asking me if I was sure if I wanted to let her do this. I had longer hair, past my shoulders and told him, "it will be fine! It will grow back!"
So, I happily agree to let her cut my hair and we set a date and time. I remember having to request a half day of vacation that day because I commuted to DSM for work at the time. My appointment was at 11. I was thinking that I would go, get my hair cut and have a couple hours to burn doing something fun afterwards. I can't recall if it was before Christmas or right before New Year's that this appointment was in the books. Either way, it was December.
I arrive at the appointment, get my hair washed and conditioned. I sit down in the chair and tell her that I think a shorter cut, right about shoulder length would be good. Nothing fancy because I'm a wash and wear type of gal. She gets to cutting. And she cuts. And cuts. And cuts. No, she's not cutting off a lot, she's just extremely slow because she is just learning how to do all of this stuff. No biggie. Two and a half hours go by and she finally starts to finish up and begins to style it.
As she styles it, I try not to stare at what has become of my hair. There really is no turning back now. She styles and has to cut a couple more strands to even things up. She goes and gets her instructor for her to take a look at the finished product.
Instructor to me: Looks nice! Do you like it?
Me: YES! It is SO COOL! I LOVE IT!!! (yes, I was enthusiastic and genuine about it because, after all, this was my future sister in law's future career and did I mention my future sister in law?)
Instructor: Yes! It is a GREAT holiday cut.
Me: Umm hmm! (with a smile)
Okay, when I went in there, my hair was long, layered and easy to manage. When I left there, my hair was cut like a bell. Yes, a bell. Like the Liberty Bell. It was a little longer than chin length and it flipped up hardcore. Over three hours in the salon, too!!
When Brett came home and saw what had become of my experience at the salon with his sister, he encouraged me to tell her that she should fix it. I told him there was no way in hell I was going to say a thing to her because she was so nervous and trying so hard that I wasn't going to say a word. Plus, there was really nothing she could do to fix it at this time. Only time would prove to be the best thing to fix this. I wore the bell. I wore the Liberty Bell until it grew out. I didn't let my sister-in-law cut my hair again until she graduated. She asked a couple of times and I kindly said, "I would be happy to let you cut my hair when you are done with school!" She wasn't a fan of that answer.
It is 2012 and I finally tell my sister-in-law why I wouldn't let her cut my hair again. She laughed so hard and couldn't believe I sported the Liberty Bell until it grew out and I never told her that I didn't like it. The things we do for love. This is the same sister-in-law that I had to enlist to help me "fix" the unfixable when I had to cut a chunk of my hair out due to the lemon sucker slapped in my hair (refer to previous post regarding taking Ty to the doctor). I am still growing that gem out. It's hot. Really hot.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you that have had a bad haircut or two in your lifetime, until next time. . .
When she was first in Cosmetology school, which was over ten years ago now, she needed to have people come in and get their hair cut so she could be graded. This was before she was technically my sister-in-law because Brett and I wouldn't be married until the next summer. I had never been afraid of getting my hair cut because my mantra was always, "it will grow back!" Just take a look at my senior year of high school cheerleading pictures. Eek. Anyhoo, Brett was a little worried about me letting her cut my hair and kept asking me if I was sure if I wanted to let her do this. I had longer hair, past my shoulders and told him, "it will be fine! It will grow back!"
So, I happily agree to let her cut my hair and we set a date and time. I remember having to request a half day of vacation that day because I commuted to DSM for work at the time. My appointment was at 11. I was thinking that I would go, get my hair cut and have a couple hours to burn doing something fun afterwards. I can't recall if it was before Christmas or right before New Year's that this appointment was in the books. Either way, it was December.
I arrive at the appointment, get my hair washed and conditioned. I sit down in the chair and tell her that I think a shorter cut, right about shoulder length would be good. Nothing fancy because I'm a wash and wear type of gal. She gets to cutting. And she cuts. And cuts. And cuts. No, she's not cutting off a lot, she's just extremely slow because she is just learning how to do all of this stuff. No biggie. Two and a half hours go by and she finally starts to finish up and begins to style it.
As she styles it, I try not to stare at what has become of my hair. There really is no turning back now. She styles and has to cut a couple more strands to even things up. She goes and gets her instructor for her to take a look at the finished product.
Instructor to me: Looks nice! Do you like it?
Me: YES! It is SO COOL! I LOVE IT!!! (yes, I was enthusiastic and genuine about it because, after all, this was my future sister in law's future career and did I mention my future sister in law?)
Instructor: Yes! It is a GREAT holiday cut.
Me: Umm hmm! (with a smile)
Okay, when I went in there, my hair was long, layered and easy to manage. When I left there, my hair was cut like a bell. Yes, a bell. Like the Liberty Bell. It was a little longer than chin length and it flipped up hardcore. Over three hours in the salon, too!!
When Brett came home and saw what had become of my experience at the salon with his sister, he encouraged me to tell her that she should fix it. I told him there was no way in hell I was going to say a thing to her because she was so nervous and trying so hard that I wasn't going to say a word. Plus, there was really nothing she could do to fix it at this time. Only time would prove to be the best thing to fix this. I wore the bell. I wore the Liberty Bell until it grew out. I didn't let my sister-in-law cut my hair again until she graduated. She asked a couple of times and I kindly said, "I would be happy to let you cut my hair when you are done with school!" She wasn't a fan of that answer.
It is 2012 and I finally tell my sister-in-law why I wouldn't let her cut my hair again. She laughed so hard and couldn't believe I sported the Liberty Bell until it grew out and I never told her that I didn't like it. The things we do for love. This is the same sister-in-law that I had to enlist to help me "fix" the unfixable when I had to cut a chunk of my hair out due to the lemon sucker slapped in my hair (refer to previous post regarding taking Ty to the doctor). I am still growing that gem out. It's hot. Really hot.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you that have had a bad haircut or two in your lifetime, until next time. . .
Friday, May 18, 2012
A Chapter from the History of Trish and PIC #2
To lighten the mood of some of my recent posts, since I've been down in the motivational dumps, I thought I would share with you a great story from history. Not leaving any detail out, of course. A little foreshadowing: I don't sunburn easily.
It was the 4th of July. I had come back from IC with Brett for some reason and PIC #2 and I decided to hang out for the day. We thought it would be a great idea to catch some rays at "The Pits" because it was a hot, sunny, summer day. (BRILLIANT IDEA #1) I remember we went early and were pretty much the first ones there. We had grabbed my parents' old school chaise lounger chairs. You know, the ones that fold up into a small square and the head part folds out as do the feet part? Metal legs, plasticky cream colored vinyl. (BRILLIANT IDEA #2) Wicked awesome.
I will tell you that I was STILL wearing a two piece suit at this time. (BRILLIANT IDEA #3 and actually there is no sarcasm with this brilliant idea, it will prove to be my most brilliant idea yet, keep reading) Why was I wearing a two piece suit? I really don't know. I know I shouldn't have been wearing one at the time. I don't think I have worn one since. (Thank all that is holy for small miracles, I know. I know.) I have a naturally tan complexion and I honestly do not burn easily. However, we decided it was a BRILLIANT idea to cover ourselves in baby oil and lay out. (BRILLIANCE #4)
After about a half hour in the sun, it got really hot. I thought it would be a good idea to drag my chair to the water and put the feet part in the water. (BRILLS #5) After a couple hours in the sun, feeling great because I wasn't hot at all with my feet in the cool water which surprisingly, I didn't get any sort of disease from that water, we were hungry and decided to go to Taco Time for some lunch. Taco Time only because it was PIC #2's fave and mine when I was back in town.
We go to Taco Time and they have booths there that are covered in vinyl. We each had shorts and t-shirts/tank tops to put over our suits, so we were fully clothed. We sat down, ate our lunch, having a great time and when I was done, I stood up to put my tray away and throw my trash in the garbage can behind me. When I stood up and went to the garbage, I didn't like the feeling of my legs peeling away from the seat of the booth and I said something to the effect of my legs being melted to the seat. PIC #2 simply stated, with a gasp, "Ohhhhhhhh, Trish!" I stopped and looked behind me, saying "What?! What is it?!" She said, "you are really burnt!" At the same moment she said this, I caught a clear shot of my calf. I was burnt. So burnt in fact that I. Was. Purple. Yes, purple! I'm not even kidding. I can't make this stuff up. I sat back down to wait for PIC #2 to finish her meal, afterwards, she dropped me off at my parents' house. I showered and slathered on some greasy lotion. By the time Brett and I headed back to IC later that afternoon in his car with leather seats, I was feeling the burn, literally. I covered the passenger seat in towels for the ride home.
We arrived home to find that the ceiling of our apartment had been blown out by a leaky pipe, so we had to go elsewhere for a few hours while the crew cleaned it up. We went to buy some pure aloe vera gel and headed to our friend's house to go watch fireworks. Brett was being so helpful, he tried to rub in some of the aloe in my back, but the touch of his hands was way too much even being as gentle as he could. I told him to just squirt it at the top of my back and let it run down, making sure it coated the entire area. He did. Bless his heart.
I was miserable at the fireworks and Brett kept forgetting about my awful sunburn and kept trying to put his arm around me during the fireworks. Bless his heart again. We finally got home late that night and I had to sleep in the buff that night. It was awful. I was radiating heat to the point of making Brett sweat. No joke. He would just spray that aloe gel on my back and let it run all over. It was the only thing that helped. The next day, my skin was so tight and still VERY tender. I took a shower that felt like someone was poking my back with a million needles. I was getting dressed, panties first then bra and then when I went to put on shorts and moved a bit, I realized it was not going to fly wearing normal bras and panties. I hand washed my two piece swimsuit and was able to wear loose clothing for the next few days. I continued to hand wash my suit until I could bear to wear something else.
The weeks that followed were not pretty. I blistered, then I molted, shed and peeled. Rinse and repeat. Awful!
I have not put a lawn chair in water since. I have not used baby oil since. I have not worn a two piece suit since. I have not had to use aloe vera gel since. I have eaten Taco Time, though. SPF 700 is my friend.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you that are searching for your sunscreen, until next time...
It was the 4th of July. I had come back from IC with Brett for some reason and PIC #2 and I decided to hang out for the day. We thought it would be a great idea to catch some rays at "The Pits" because it was a hot, sunny, summer day. (BRILLIANT IDEA #1) I remember we went early and were pretty much the first ones there. We had grabbed my parents' old school chaise lounger chairs. You know, the ones that fold up into a small square and the head part folds out as do the feet part? Metal legs, plasticky cream colored vinyl. (BRILLIANT IDEA #2) Wicked awesome.
I will tell you that I was STILL wearing a two piece suit at this time. (BRILLIANT IDEA #3 and actually there is no sarcasm with this brilliant idea, it will prove to be my most brilliant idea yet, keep reading) Why was I wearing a two piece suit? I really don't know. I know I shouldn't have been wearing one at the time. I don't think I have worn one since. (Thank all that is holy for small miracles, I know. I know.) I have a naturally tan complexion and I honestly do not burn easily. However, we decided it was a BRILLIANT idea to cover ourselves in baby oil and lay out. (BRILLIANCE #4)
After about a half hour in the sun, it got really hot. I thought it would be a good idea to drag my chair to the water and put the feet part in the water. (BRILLS #5) After a couple hours in the sun, feeling great because I wasn't hot at all with my feet in the cool water which surprisingly, I didn't get any sort of disease from that water, we were hungry and decided to go to Taco Time for some lunch. Taco Time only because it was PIC #2's fave and mine when I was back in town.
We go to Taco Time and they have booths there that are covered in vinyl. We each had shorts and t-shirts/tank tops to put over our suits, so we were fully clothed. We sat down, ate our lunch, having a great time and when I was done, I stood up to put my tray away and throw my trash in the garbage can behind me. When I stood up and went to the garbage, I didn't like the feeling of my legs peeling away from the seat of the booth and I said something to the effect of my legs being melted to the seat. PIC #2 simply stated, with a gasp, "Ohhhhhhhh, Trish!" I stopped and looked behind me, saying "What?! What is it?!" She said, "you are really burnt!" At the same moment she said this, I caught a clear shot of my calf. I was burnt. So burnt in fact that I. Was. Purple. Yes, purple! I'm not even kidding. I can't make this stuff up. I sat back down to wait for PIC #2 to finish her meal, afterwards, she dropped me off at my parents' house. I showered and slathered on some greasy lotion. By the time Brett and I headed back to IC later that afternoon in his car with leather seats, I was feeling the burn, literally. I covered the passenger seat in towels for the ride home.
We arrived home to find that the ceiling of our apartment had been blown out by a leaky pipe, so we had to go elsewhere for a few hours while the crew cleaned it up. We went to buy some pure aloe vera gel and headed to our friend's house to go watch fireworks. Brett was being so helpful, he tried to rub in some of the aloe in my back, but the touch of his hands was way too much even being as gentle as he could. I told him to just squirt it at the top of my back and let it run down, making sure it coated the entire area. He did. Bless his heart.
I was miserable at the fireworks and Brett kept forgetting about my awful sunburn and kept trying to put his arm around me during the fireworks. Bless his heart again. We finally got home late that night and I had to sleep in the buff that night. It was awful. I was radiating heat to the point of making Brett sweat. No joke. He would just spray that aloe gel on my back and let it run all over. It was the only thing that helped. The next day, my skin was so tight and still VERY tender. I took a shower that felt like someone was poking my back with a million needles. I was getting dressed, panties first then bra and then when I went to put on shorts and moved a bit, I realized it was not going to fly wearing normal bras and panties. I hand washed my two piece swimsuit and was able to wear loose clothing for the next few days. I continued to hand wash my suit until I could bear to wear something else.
The weeks that followed were not pretty. I blistered, then I molted, shed and peeled. Rinse and repeat. Awful!
I have not put a lawn chair in water since. I have not used baby oil since. I have not worn a two piece suit since. I have not had to use aloe vera gel since. I have eaten Taco Time, though. SPF 700 is my friend.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you that are searching for your sunscreen, until next time...
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Motivation from a weird place.
Get your minds out of the gutter. Not THAT weird. I don't consider myself one to be a TV junkie or one that cannot live without TV. I rather like not having the TV on and listening to music instead. I do have a few shows that I really love and the DVR is always ready to record. I love the new Hawaii Five-O. The girl that plays Kono has a rocking body like I have never seen. Her body type is way different than mine, but it doesn't stop me from having my moments of pretending for a second that I am THAT fit. I also love True Blood. Anna Paquin's body is pretty rocking, too, not to mention that the men on that show are incredibly fit as well. Side notes: I am totally Team Bill (Stephen Moyer), but he could shave his chest and I'd like him better. I'm Team Alcide (Joe Manganiello) for the sheer fact that looking at that man without a shirt on is like Heaven in my living room, on Sunday nights starting in June for about 12 weeks. I'm Team Eric (Alexander Skarsgard) because it so happens that the thin, yet fit men are "my type" see a photo of PIC #1.
Okay, so I didn't set out with the intent on gushing about True Blood or Hawaii Five-O. It just sort of happened in true Trisha form. Anyhoo, onto my point of this post: when I would workout on the Gazelle frequently, I would watch TV. Now, you all know that when I would hop on the Gazelle at 4:30 in the morning that I would watch infomercials (which, by the way, I DID buy a Lint Lizard in a store, but not off the infomercial) and reruns of Dr. Phil and "Full House." When I would workout at night, I would find myself watching "The Biggest Loser" and "Celebrity Fit Club." These two shows, however unrealistic for the average person, seemed to motivate me when I would see other people working out, too. My stride was longer, I would go faster and keep going until before I knew it, an hour had passed. I did put this theory to the test and popped in different movies, "What Dreams May Come" and "Big Fish" to see what my speed was while watching these. First of all, don't try to workout to a tearjerker, you will spend more time blowing your nose and sobbing than you will getting an actual workout. My speed was significantly lower when I would watch these movies while working out.
I started to take notice how I felt when I would watch different movies, trying to find ones that would enhance my workouts. One that I would watch rather frequently was "You Got Served." Yes, you read that correctly. The movie is about street dancers similar to the concepts of the "Step Up" movies. There is something about watching other people continuously moving that motivates me to move as well. Not only by watching these types of movies would they increase my intensity and speed of a workout, but also motivate me to get off the couch if I hadn't yet worked out yet.
Obviously watching something that makes you want to get up and move is somewhat brainwashing yourself, but really, I don't see much harm in brainwashing myself every once in a while to help motivate me. These types of movies may or may not help you along because I sure don't get the same kind of motivation watching Jean Claude Van Damme, Steven Seagal or Dolph Lundgren movies. Maybe Brett does? I doubt it because I've never caught him street fighting after watching any of those movies. Maybe he just pretends he is a great street fighter???
I would also like to say that in addition to the season premier of True Blood, I am also anxiously awaiting the beginning of the new Dallas series. I'm not joking. I'm really not. You know what is even better? True Blood and Dallas premier the SAME WEEK!!!! I may be busting out the Gazelle again!!! I mean really, if I am going to be watching TV, I might as well be burning calories, too!!!!
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you Googling Dolph Lundgren right now, until next time...
Okay, so I didn't set out with the intent on gushing about True Blood or Hawaii Five-O. It just sort of happened in true Trisha form. Anyhoo, onto my point of this post: when I would workout on the Gazelle frequently, I would watch TV. Now, you all know that when I would hop on the Gazelle at 4:30 in the morning that I would watch infomercials (which, by the way, I DID buy a Lint Lizard in a store, but not off the infomercial) and reruns of Dr. Phil and "Full House." When I would workout at night, I would find myself watching "The Biggest Loser" and "Celebrity Fit Club." These two shows, however unrealistic for the average person, seemed to motivate me when I would see other people working out, too. My stride was longer, I would go faster and keep going until before I knew it, an hour had passed. I did put this theory to the test and popped in different movies, "What Dreams May Come" and "Big Fish" to see what my speed was while watching these. First of all, don't try to workout to a tearjerker, you will spend more time blowing your nose and sobbing than you will getting an actual workout. My speed was significantly lower when I would watch these movies while working out.
I started to take notice how I felt when I would watch different movies, trying to find ones that would enhance my workouts. One that I would watch rather frequently was "You Got Served." Yes, you read that correctly. The movie is about street dancers similar to the concepts of the "Step Up" movies. There is something about watching other people continuously moving that motivates me to move as well. Not only by watching these types of movies would they increase my intensity and speed of a workout, but also motivate me to get off the couch if I hadn't yet worked out yet.
Obviously watching something that makes you want to get up and move is somewhat brainwashing yourself, but really, I don't see much harm in brainwashing myself every once in a while to help motivate me. These types of movies may or may not help you along because I sure don't get the same kind of motivation watching Jean Claude Van Damme, Steven Seagal or Dolph Lundgren movies. Maybe Brett does? I doubt it because I've never caught him street fighting after watching any of those movies. Maybe he just pretends he is a great street fighter???
I would also like to say that in addition to the season premier of True Blood, I am also anxiously awaiting the beginning of the new Dallas series. I'm not joking. I'm really not. You know what is even better? True Blood and Dallas premier the SAME WEEK!!!! I may be busting out the Gazelle again!!! I mean really, if I am going to be watching TV, I might as well be burning calories, too!!!!
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you Googling Dolph Lundgren right now, until next time...
Friday, May 11, 2012
I Stop for Squirrels and Brake for Birds
The title of today's post is what I used to tell my jean-hiking dad when I was learning to drive. He disagreed with me very much, to say the least. He would tell me that I needed to plow right through them because of the obvious wreck that I could cause.
Fast forward to a couple of years ago, Brett and I are driving to my sister's house and there sits two baby birds in the road, I try to move over just a little bit to ensure my tire didn't steamroll them. Well, I'm apparently not that great at doing that and misjudged where exactly the bird was in relation to my tire and I squished that baby bird. Yup, I cried. Brett, trying to console me in telling me that I did all that I could to try and save the bird. I was still sad.
Not too long after that, I was on my way to work, on the highway, right before sunrise, a couple birds flew right in front of my car. I tried to swerve to miss them, but I heard one hit my car. I kept looking and looking in my rear view mirror to see if it was lying in the road, but I never saw it. When I got to work, I looked under my car for any damage, but I saw nothing. I let it go and thought nothing of it until a couple of days later when my car seemed to start to smell. I kept checking my car. Under it. In it. Anywhere I could think of to look for that bird. I couldn't find it anywhere. I thought maybe I needed to get my car washed and then anything would be washed away. I left the house that day during nap time, went and washed my car with the touchless wash and then went to Wal-Mart. I parked my car, got out and as I'm walking into the store, I looked back at the front of my car. I would have never been able to fully prepare myself for what I was about to see. Out of the decorative opening in my front bumper, I see HUNDREDS of maggots pouring out into the parking lot. I was horrified and scared to even get back into my car. I went in, did my shopping in the hopes that the problem would subside and I would be able to get my car home without a hint of a horror movie starting in my vehicle.
I came out after I did my shopping. Problem still there and still just as gross and still just as frightening. I got home as soon as I could and was even scared to pull my car in the driveway. I didn't want those nasty little things anywhere close to the house. I came in and got Brett, explaining about the bird I had hit a while before, blah blah blah, insert Brett scolding me for not looking hard enough, blah blah blah. Once again, I popped the hood and looked in, still didn't see anything. The evidence was still pouring out of the decorative opening, but we can't see anything through there, either. Until we looked into the hole that houses the latch for the hood. Only there, were we able to see to the bottom of the decorative opening, which is now obvious that there is a shelf that sits lower than the opening and that is where the bird had come to rest. With the help of some pliers and a straightened out wire hanger, Brett got the bird out. My hero. I went and washed my car again, immediately following the removal of the bird.
Again, this story has nothing to do with anything, except for the randomness of my brain and the entertainment in which I provide. So, take it from me, check your car thoroughly if you ever hit any animal with your vehicle and don't see any trace of it. Stop for squirrels and brake for birds? Yeah, maybe not such a bad idea anymore.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you barfing in your mouth a little, until next time...
Fast forward to a couple of years ago, Brett and I are driving to my sister's house and there sits two baby birds in the road, I try to move over just a little bit to ensure my tire didn't steamroll them. Well, I'm apparently not that great at doing that and misjudged where exactly the bird was in relation to my tire and I squished that baby bird. Yup, I cried. Brett, trying to console me in telling me that I did all that I could to try and save the bird. I was still sad.
Not too long after that, I was on my way to work, on the highway, right before sunrise, a couple birds flew right in front of my car. I tried to swerve to miss them, but I heard one hit my car. I kept looking and looking in my rear view mirror to see if it was lying in the road, but I never saw it. When I got to work, I looked under my car for any damage, but I saw nothing. I let it go and thought nothing of it until a couple of days later when my car seemed to start to smell. I kept checking my car. Under it. In it. Anywhere I could think of to look for that bird. I couldn't find it anywhere. I thought maybe I needed to get my car washed and then anything would be washed away. I left the house that day during nap time, went and washed my car with the touchless wash and then went to Wal-Mart. I parked my car, got out and as I'm walking into the store, I looked back at the front of my car. I would have never been able to fully prepare myself for what I was about to see. Out of the decorative opening in my front bumper, I see HUNDREDS of maggots pouring out into the parking lot. I was horrified and scared to even get back into my car. I went in, did my shopping in the hopes that the problem would subside and I would be able to get my car home without a hint of a horror movie starting in my vehicle.
I came out after I did my shopping. Problem still there and still just as gross and still just as frightening. I got home as soon as I could and was even scared to pull my car in the driveway. I didn't want those nasty little things anywhere close to the house. I came in and got Brett, explaining about the bird I had hit a while before, blah blah blah, insert Brett scolding me for not looking hard enough, blah blah blah. Once again, I popped the hood and looked in, still didn't see anything. The evidence was still pouring out of the decorative opening, but we can't see anything through there, either. Until we looked into the hole that houses the latch for the hood. Only there, were we able to see to the bottom of the decorative opening, which is now obvious that there is a shelf that sits lower than the opening and that is where the bird had come to rest. With the help of some pliers and a straightened out wire hanger, Brett got the bird out. My hero. I went and washed my car again, immediately following the removal of the bird.
Again, this story has nothing to do with anything, except for the randomness of my brain and the entertainment in which I provide. So, take it from me, check your car thoroughly if you ever hit any animal with your vehicle and don't see any trace of it. Stop for squirrels and brake for birds? Yeah, maybe not such a bad idea anymore.
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you barfing in your mouth a little, until next time...
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Battling the foot injury, again.
I've had a rough few weeks. First, the nasty hand, foot and mouth disease, then I seemed to re-injure my foot. You may recall a while back, I jammed my toes after so gracefully tripping on a Nylabone that was so carefully left in the middle of the hallway. I thought it was something that passed on its own. I was so wrong. The weather got nicer and I was going barefoot in the house after work until bedtime. I wasn't able to walk at all a couple of days in a row, but oddly enough, I didn't have much pain in my foot when I would wear shoes. I went shopping for an entire day, while chasing Tyson around and didn't have one hint of pain. The moment I got home, I kicked off my kicks and I was walking around the house and within a half hour, I could barely walk. I was limping around the house and I really thought something was broken in there. The next day, I woke up and it felt a lot better. At this point, I hadn't worked out for 3 days. I decided to take the rest of the day off and give my foot a little more time and I would hit the workout hard the next morning.
Monday morning rolls around, alarm goes off at 4:15, I literally jump out of bed and hit the ground running and... my foot was in so much pain. I yelled some expletives, went to the bathroom and returned to bed. I called my doctor and made an appointment. I got x-rays and he then referred me on to a podiatrist. Fortunately, the podiatry department had an opening for the next day. My doctor confirmed through x-rays that my foot was not broken (thank all that is holy) and the podiatrist said that I had capsulitis. The capsule around the joint in my second toe, right in the ball of my foot is inflamed and the more I walk barefoot in the house on hard floors, the worse it gets. So, his recommendation was to wear some sort of footwear at all times. Nope, I'm not kidding. When it is 86 degrees out, I'm wearing my red Muppet fur Acorn slippers around the house! Okay, okay, so it is a small price to pay when I haven't had any foot pain all week long. So, after my foot gets to feeling better, I got to workout after a week of foot pain! Oh and by the way, this capsulitis is a direct effect of the same injury from the stinking dog toy in the hallway. Seriously. The kicker? I got a cold immediately after. Great. Another break from working out ensued.
I have learned with all these curve balls that I am not good at adjusting things for myself. I want things to go the way I want things to go for myself and any other way is not acceptable. Did you get that? Good! I'm easy going when it comes to things with Brett, Ty or the pups, but not myself. Who would have thought? I know, it is a lot to ask for things to go the way I want them to when and how I want them to. I need to be more flexible and resilient.
Let me tell you, it has been a rough few weeks because nothing has been consistent. The only consistency has been my working out. That was always a sure thing. Not so much when injury and illness strike. It becomes an anxiety ridden, depressing time for me. I feel like no matter what I do, whether it be walking or getting in a short workout, is not enough and not good enough. I need to get over that and realize that I'm not on any deadline for this life change. I'm in this for the long haul and I am sure there will be PLENTY more times like these that I am going to have to roll with the punches. I'm just not going to give up. Even if it means that I have to START SMALL again, I'm not giving up. I've given up on myself enough times that this is not going to be one of those times. The time is now to buckle down and get back into it. I'm ready and I need to push past this bump and give it all I've got. It is a little corny to type this all out, but I do it for the benefit of someone else that might be on the verge of giving up. The time is now. Go do your thing!
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you that may have already given up, it's not too late and until next time...
Monday morning rolls around, alarm goes off at 4:15, I literally jump out of bed and hit the ground running and... my foot was in so much pain. I yelled some expletives, went to the bathroom and returned to bed. I called my doctor and made an appointment. I got x-rays and he then referred me on to a podiatrist. Fortunately, the podiatry department had an opening for the next day. My doctor confirmed through x-rays that my foot was not broken (thank all that is holy) and the podiatrist said that I had capsulitis. The capsule around the joint in my second toe, right in the ball of my foot is inflamed and the more I walk barefoot in the house on hard floors, the worse it gets. So, his recommendation was to wear some sort of footwear at all times. Nope, I'm not kidding. When it is 86 degrees out, I'm wearing my red Muppet fur Acorn slippers around the house! Okay, okay, so it is a small price to pay when I haven't had any foot pain all week long. So, after my foot gets to feeling better, I got to workout after a week of foot pain! Oh and by the way, this capsulitis is a direct effect of the same injury from the stinking dog toy in the hallway. Seriously. The kicker? I got a cold immediately after. Great. Another break from working out ensued.
I have learned with all these curve balls that I am not good at adjusting things for myself. I want things to go the way I want things to go for myself and any other way is not acceptable. Did you get that? Good! I'm easy going when it comes to things with Brett, Ty or the pups, but not myself. Who would have thought? I know, it is a lot to ask for things to go the way I want them to when and how I want them to. I need to be more flexible and resilient.
Let me tell you, it has been a rough few weeks because nothing has been consistent. The only consistency has been my working out. That was always a sure thing. Not so much when injury and illness strike. It becomes an anxiety ridden, depressing time for me. I feel like no matter what I do, whether it be walking or getting in a short workout, is not enough and not good enough. I need to get over that and realize that I'm not on any deadline for this life change. I'm in this for the long haul and I am sure there will be PLENTY more times like these that I am going to have to roll with the punches. I'm just not going to give up. Even if it means that I have to START SMALL again, I'm not giving up. I've given up on myself enough times that this is not going to be one of those times. The time is now to buckle down and get back into it. I'm ready and I need to push past this bump and give it all I've got. It is a little corny to type this all out, but I do it for the benefit of someone else that might be on the verge of giving up. The time is now. Go do your thing!
Signing off for now, to all of you near and far and to those of you that may have already given up, it's not too late and until next time...
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