Scathed.

Several bloggers have posted about how the economic downturn has impacted them...other than my tiny stock portfolio taking a hit, we have been relatively unscathed. Until today.

Mr. P's company had a staff meeting where they were informed of an across the board 10% pay cut for all staff. Also, no more 401K matching, and no more gym membership reimbursement. BUT, on the bright side, Fridays are now half-day...so with a 10% pay cut, they get to work 10% less. Except for Project Managers. Remember that promotion Mr. P got? Yup, it was to project manager. However, things could be MUCH worse, and we are grateful that it is just 10%.

That all being said, we are still in pretty good shape...as long as I get tenure. Speaking of which, Alain still hasn't made his decision about my paper. I hope he makes a GOOD decision soon.

Totally unrelated: We have no Thai restaurants in our town, and I love me some hot, hot food. Because of the aforementioned staff meeting, Mr. P was at the main office of his firm today and that office is in a much bigger town and tonight he brought home some stir fry with chicken, mushrooms, onion and broccoli. 8 out of 8 chili's hot. It was amazing, and VERY Weight Watcher friendly. So even with the paycut news, today turned out al.right.

I want to curse in public

So. Apparently not everyone thinks that Easter crafts are appropriate voting fodder. Are we the only family that makes a competition out of ev.er.y.thing? Thanks for those of you who voted...Tracy's chick won the painted contest, and MY swirl egg won out of the bedazzles.

Anyway, you know when you feel all AAAARRRRUUUUUUUUUURRRRAAAAAAAAAH?

My baseball picture from yesterday totally came back and bit me in the ass today. I got up this morning, went to the park, did my Couch to 5K, and went to work. Then the day took a major downturn. My class went horribly, the students were being completely dense. They act like they have never seen the material AT. ALL. even though there is a prerequisite to my class...when I mention that, they say, OH, I had it 3 years ago. Sorry, sister. Prereq means you are responsible for the material. ugh.

In all honesty, it probably wasn't that bad, but I am just all whiny and bitchy and crabby and damn it, I just want a motherfucking cookie. You know the puffy sugar cookie type things with the weirdly fluorescent, absurdly sweet frosting and colored sprinkles? But you can't buy just 1, you have to buy 12. I JUST WANT ONE. Fuck.

At least tomorrow we are going to a friend's birthday party/Happy Hour. I can't wait to go have a couple or eight beers. and curse in public. Damn it.

P.S. I kind of feel bad for typing curse words on Ash Wednesday, but now since it is technically Thursday it's probably okay.

Tuesday's Plethora of Unrelated Junk

I was going to call it Tuesday's Tidbits, but that implied I had a few bullet points...I have a few unrelated things that on their own don't make full blog posts, but individually don't merit a post either...so here we go.

I got home from my sister's on Sunday in the NICK OF TIME. Mr. P is sick, and the boy is messy...the two do. NOT. go together. Harmony has been restored. However Mr. P is still sick and that is annoying to me. I know, right? I am quite a prize. He goes to sleep super early and is crabby when awake. He is not catering to my every whim and he doesn't even think I am that funny. I hope he gets well soon for my his sake.

I had a running breakthrough. I am doing the Couch to 5K training program, and I have been doing the Week 5 Day 1 workout for going on two weeks. In case you didn't catch that...this was something I was supposed to do for one day, then move on to something harder...but I couldn't do it. I told Mr. P that I thought I hit the wall for how far I could run on a treadmill because it was just too boring. Guess what? I did it at the gym last night on the treadmill...it made me pause, guess maybe boredom didn't really play a role. My outward appearance isn't changing that fast, but my stamina and cardiovascular fitness sure is. What I couldn't even come close to doing just 7 days ago, I can do now.

Next time I bitch about my job, I need to look back at this post. This is the view from my "office" today:

Yes, I did go to a college baseball game this afternoon. Before you go cursing me...I did work while out in the gorgeous sunshine. There is wireless at the stadium.

Last, but by no means least, Easter eggs!! I want you to tell me which ONE egg from each category you think is the BEST. None of this, "they are all nice crap". Clearly, they are not. There are several that are superior. I won't even asterisk my sister's creations though she cheated at crafts by using more than the allocated materials. She kind of committed crafting fraud. I am just saying. Oh, and check out the egg with the face...just in case you were wondering what my sister looks like, my nephew helped me create an egg that "looks like Mommy". I must have asked him 15 times after we were done who that egg was, and every time he said Mommy I died a little. Damn, that kid is cute.

oh. one more thing. If your comment doesn't show up, it is not because Blogger is broken, but more likely because you voted for the wrong egg.

WEIRD side effect of losing weight

My pants are all too LONG!

While my pants are a bit loose all the way around, the biggest issue is that they are too long. I guess my booty and belly aren't poofing out quite as much, so the material can hang down more than it used to...I was not expecting that.

Anyways, I had a great time with my sister and her family, we did some good crafting (I will post about that later, I don't have my camera handy), relaxing and laughing. (I won't tell you how we spent LOTS of time commenting on each other's Facebook pages while sitting 2 feet away from each other, because that would have been lame.)

I certainly got rejuvenated and ready to hit work pretty hard to get all my papers out under review so I can hopefully get my publication number up before September.

As it is Monday, I took my fat test...and you know what? I am still super good at being fat, but my solid A is slipping away from me: 93.07%!

For those of you who do not find weight loss statistics as fascinating as I do...that means 4 pounds lost this week! Interestingly, now Weight Watchers says I am losing too fast...last week 1.6 was too slow, now 4 is too fast. eesh. Maybe this week I can find the Baby Bear of weight loss. (you know...just right?)

Eating bacteria poop

Since Tracy and I are both following Weight Watchers we have spent a LOT of time this weekend discussing food strategies, stuff we like to eat when we are healthy, junk we like to eat when we are not, and planning for our next meals.

We decided yesterday morning that we wanted pizza for dinner (hey, we are in New Jersey where the pizza is fantastic) so we needed a very light lunch (meaning few calories) so we went on a hunt for spaghetti squash...no luck. However, when we had decided on hummus and veggie pitas and were looking for Laughing Cow wedges, we came across something Fat Free, Sugar Free and Calorie Free in the style of marshmallow. MARSHMALLOW!

My sister and I do NOT have the same tastes in lots of stuff...for example, television. Last night we spent most of the night making fun of each other via Facebook statuses (she likes home shows and Friday Night Lights, I like Wife Swap and anything with a competition). Thursday night we watched Spectacular! and while the lead character embarrassed me, I liked it and she made fun of it the whole time.

However, we absolutely DO agree on the fabulosity of marshmallow. So we bought the "marshmallow dip" and ate a whole thing of strawberries. Today we bought more strawberries (organic this time, that helps the chemicals even out), and devoured a bunch more at lunch today. At that point, we both took a more careful look at the jar, and decided maybe we should look up some of the ingredients. One of which was xanthan gum, which interestingly is the byproduct of a bacteria that is fattened up on corn.

So for the sake of HEALTH we ate a jar of triple filtered water and bacteria shit. on strawberries.

Maybe we should try it with bananas next.

Dedication to my art

I am backed up to the wall of the Continental Presidential club wall to scam their free Internet because that is how dedicated I am.

Apparently I wasn't quite as stressed about fiery death as I was about getting up at an absurd hour. I have made this deduction because I am sitting at the gate completely excited and not stressed. I am happy to go spend the weekend crafting, playing with my nephew, chatting with my sister, talking dorky school stuff with my brother-in-law and just getting away for a few days to regroup. Not that anything is out of sorts really, but I can feel some of the strings that keep my shit together starting to unravel just a tad, and so it will be good to get everything all tightened up again.

I interrupt this post for a quick note to the douchebag sitting behind me at the gate talking to his secretary on SPEAKER PHONE ...I don't think I have ever been so happy about someone going to Houston. Oh, and lady with the whiny whiny girl...if you will just give her the fucking blueberry muffin already I will give you $1,000. I don't care if you think she hates blueberries, and that blueberries are not the same as chocolate chips.

I haven't asked her, but I am assuming my sister has to work tomorrow. I am thinking about the Central Park Zoo and Wichcraft (a Tom Collichio restaurant)...if you had 6 hours to yourself in NYC, what would you do?

Oh, and even though this is WAY TOO EASY, I can't resist :

Dude, here is your tip...that isn't how 'appreciated' is spelled.

The picture is crappy, but I felt like I wanted photo evidence...the sign was from the airport shuttle and says TIPS ARE APPRICIATED. damn how spellcheck doesn't work on the all caps. I did kind of feel for him since I misspelled the TITLE OF MY DISSERTATION so I made sure to give him some dollars with my spelling wisdom. (I didn't really give him the spelling tip, I am more of a bitch in MY MIND.)

excitement with a dab of anxiety, or is it the other way around?

My college kid sent me a text this morning asking me if I was so, so excited about this weekend. That question should receive a resounding YES. Usually when I get within 48 hours of getting to spend time with my sister and her baby (and her husband) I start losing my mind with excitement. This time, I am a bit more tempered. That tempering is two fold.

First, my trip got cancelled in December due to a snow storm, and I really wanted to spend time with my sister and her baby (and her husband, sorry wt) at Christmas to make crafts and cookies and see the baby with the tree and presents and lights and all that, and I don't want to get too excited just to not get to go again.

But really what has me this time is a fear of flying in the super cold. Waiting in line to de-ice is petrifying. I have even gotten off a plane in Dallas once because I wasn't convinced they were good at de-icing in Texas. I actually cried a little bit in relief once my feet hit the tarmac (it was a little prop job).

So my excitement at spending time with my family is there, but right now it is overshadowed with a fear of plummeting to a fiery death into a snowbank, and also having to get up at 4:30am tomorrow to catch the shuttle to the airport. I really think it is about the fear of death not that I have to get up insanely early that has me anxious.

But, I would venture a guess that if you check back this time tomorrow and I have landed all safe and sound and managed to get on the right train and it is only be TWO HOURS until it is time to pick Steamboat up at school that my excitement will be full throttle!

Oh, and I bet we will have some AWESOME pictures to post of our crafting. Stuff will be so good that we will have to start an Etsy store because trying to sell our crafts over our blogs will be too hard. That is going to take a lot of work. Maybe instead we will just do our crafts all crappy and tacky to avoid that hardship. whew. Glad I thought of that.

Adding insult to injury

So today I grew my very own whisker. ON MY FACE. I say whisker not a hair because it wasn't soft, it was prickly. If that isn't horrendous enough, when I finally manage to extract it with a tweezer, the motherfucker was GRAY.

oh the humanity.

Which President(s) exactly?

I want to think it is Lincoln and Washington, but not exactly sure. Whom ever we are celebrating today with closed banks and no mail, Mr. P and I both have to work, so our Presidential celebration will be a bit lacking, quite like the focus of this blog post.

Our Valentine's Day was FISHtastic. There was an open bar, very funny lecture about animal sex which included examples of walrus self-gratification, an 8 foot whale penis AND the soap opera digest version of the life of penguins. Oh,and FYI, dolphins are the skanks of the marine mammal world...apparently they have LOTS of sex, with boy dolphins, with girl dophins, and even other critters as the desire hits them. No wonder they always seem so happy. Anyway, we camped out in the tunnel of one of the huge aquariums, and it was really neat. However, I basically did not sleep at all, so once we got home yesterday that is about all I did.

I have a crazy amount of work to do in the next three days and then I am on a quick trip to visit my NEPHEW (and sister and brother-in-law)! I won't even mention how it is supposed to be SNOWY and WINDY this weekend at the airport.

Last, but not least, I took my fat test this morning. 94.53% ! I lost 1.6 lbs this week, which is right in the "recommended range" of no more than 2 lbs per week, but I got a message from Weight Watchers that if I am not happy with the amount I lost, I should try some activity. Kind of a bummer message considering the amount of activity I have already been doing.

Gots to shower and get to work. I am out.

I love me some Mr. P

When ANYTHING happens, whether it is good or bad, he is the first person I have to talk to, no matter what it is, even when the ANYTHING is him being a donkey door. I know I poke fun of him on my blog, but I need it to be said that I don't do that to belittle him, but because he is funny, and it is in some of those moments that I know he is meant to be mine, and I absolutely love him the best.

When he was so sincerely upset that I didn't fit into the biggest pajama pants they had at Target, or when he told me with a completely straight face that Denzel Washington would play him in a movie of our life, or even when he threatened to divorce me over colby jack cheese, it is those moments that make us who we are.

This is our 20th Valentine's Day as a couple, and to celebrate we got up early and already participated in a 5K, and now we are cleaning up and getting ready to go an adult sleepover at the Georgia Aquarium. There will be a fancy dinner by Wolfgang Puck, then a lecture called "Motion in the Ocean" about aquatic animal sex, then we will camp out watching the fish. Maybe it isn't your kind of day, but for us? It is perfect! Here's to everyone having their own version of perfect today. Cheers.

Friday Hotch Potch

I am WAY too anxious to write a real post, but I didn't post at all yesterday and that is compounding my anxiety, so here is a bullet list of the goings on:

• I am waiting for a publication decision that could be HUGE for me. In academics we have to "publish or perish". So, I write a paper, send it a journal, then an editor sends it to an associate editor (AE) and reviewers...all of which do not know who I am, and I don't know who they are. Then they critique said paper. Then either the paper gets accepted, rejected, or you get a revise and resubmit decision. The paper I am talking about is my best academic work. I sent it to the VERY VERY best journal and I got a revise and resubmit letter last June. I revised. I resubmitted, and according to the editorial system, I am waiting on the Senior Editor to make his decision. His name is Alain. I really think I will get the decision today, so send "Man, that Hotch Potch is freaking brilliant" thoughts to Alain so he accepts my paper. I need 10 papers to have been published to feel comfortable about going up for tenure in September and this one would be so good it could almost count for 3. My guts are in turmoil. (I only have 6 so far.)
• We are getting up tomorrow morning to run a 5K. On Valentine's Day. Who ARE WE?
• I have become an international financier. I loaned money to Maria Isabel Zapata in Nicaragua to expand her grocery store. (http://www.kiva.org/)
• My sister got word that her husband got into the PhD program at the university where I work which means they are moving to where I live. With the baby. This summer.
• My high school kid got accepted into the Honors College yesterday.
• I can now jog 1/2 mile in a row.
• The grocery store has been out of spaghetti squash the last two times I checked. That seriously bums me out. I have, however, purchased a lovely can of Spotted Dick Pudding so that I can do more thorough research.
• I am out.

I'm a boat widow

From about the first summer we spent together, whenever it was a gorgeous sunny day, or a blistery hot, miserable day, or even a slightly hazy warm day and Mr. P and I would see a truck pulling a boat, we would look at each other and say, "I wish we had a boat." We were sure we could be happy in a little boat, tooling around a local lake, stopping to swim, occasionally attempting to fish, tubing, and maybe even a little bit of camping.

Then last summer, we were able to pull it together, and Mr. P found us a little boat. Was it all we dreamed it would be?

Hells YEAH.

When we are at the lake it is IMPOSSIBLE to worry about getting tenure or whether I am being treated fairly at work. You can not think about the stack of drawings waiting for you to redline. The craziness that makes up your life just dissolves in that crystal clear water. There are no laptops, DVRs, video games, books, movies or cell phones competing for our attention, it is pure time together, and every minute counts.

Needless to say, I love that boat. But the little hussy has stolen my man. We hit six weeks until what we figured would be our first lake weekend of the season, and Mr. P ditched me. We get home from work and the gym, eat some food, and he is gone. I stick my head out the kitchen door a few times an evening:

Me: Ahoy, skipper. How's it going?

Mr. P: Good. I am blahblahing the blah blah in the blah blah for the blah.

Me: Awesome. Can I get you anything?

Mr. P: Nope. I am good.

I know the work on the boat is for me too, but I am a whiny baby and want him to pay attention to me. Would it be unreasonable to ask him to ONLY work on the boat when I feel like being by myself, or maybe just after I fall asleep?

I've got the blahs

Well, more accurately, I had the blahs. Yesterday I did NOT feel good. I was all crampy, my hair looked like crap, my skin looked like crap, I am bloated so my pants are tight, even though I know I have lost weight. Right under my skin I feel ready to errupt at the slightest provocation. To top it all off, it was my long Monday, which means I can't leave work until 7ish. I had every intention to go to the gym and walk during The Bachelor, but then I got wind that the President was going to speak, and in my mood at the moment, I was all, "AAAAAAAAAHUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHH, why is Barack foresaking me? I can't exercise to a press conference." So I decided to go home. Mr. P met me at the door.

Me: (quite whiney) I don't feel good. My lady guts hurt, and I feel all squishy inside.

Mr. P: I am so sorry. (hugs me). Do you think you could be having your menopause?

Me: OH MY GOD. I am not even 40.

Mr. P: But don't you just want to do it now so we can have more fun?

WHAT?!? I believe his point is that he does not dig our method of birth control, and if I would just have MY menopause already, then he doesn't have to worry about it anymore. If you thought I lost my mind and freaked out on him...I didn't. I laughed pretty hard, and told my son to never, ever ask a woman UNDER 40 if she was having "her menopause".

P.S. I told him I would try really hard not to blog about that, but alas, I lost that battle with myself.

I am such a loser

When I took my fat test this morning, I scored a mere 95.11%! This translates to a loss this week of 4.6lbs, which wipes out my gain from last week, and takes another 2ish pounds with it.

A great thing about weighing in on Mondays is that the Biggest Loser results get posted on Sundays, so if anyone is stopping by to tell me to get my giantish ass in gear...too late. Done.

So, when I did Weight Watchers 6 years ago, and again for the last month, I read about this thing called spaghetti squash. Supposedly, it is this squash that once you cook it, it "turns into" pasta like threads that you then put butter, cheese or marinara on for basically NO calories, but with protein, fiber, lots of vitamins. It really seemed too good to be true. The other day, I saw a display of said squash at the grocery store and bought one. I decided to make it yesterday since I had an eating explosion on Saturday. Here it is.

Cut in half lengthwise That was HARD. Think pumpkin. Scoop out the seeds and the membranes, also think pumpkin. Kind of weird. Put cut side down in a baking pan, in a 350 degree oven for 40 minutes. Oh, and pierce the rind a bunch of times with a fork.

Then when it is done, you scrape it with a fork for the "spaghetti" to appear...what the hell do you know?Put in a bowl and serve with your favorite pasta accoutrements. I chose REAL butter and salt and pepper for my first bowl. (Then later I had the rest with some melted cheddar, a la Squasheroni and Cheese.)

So far, this might be my favorite "healthy" discovery! Here's to another good week!

Missed the boat

I just finished watching Big Love from last week, the credits are still rolling actually. If you haven't watched it yet, I am going to offer up a spoiler and so you may want to quit reading.

Sarah is pregnant and she told her brother at the very end of the episode. She is a teenager. She isn't married. She has no college education. Her parents will NOT be pleased. When she tells people she is pregnant, it isn't news that is offered with great joy, nor is it received that way.

I feel for her. I have never gotten to call my sister or girlfriends with that news and have them be so excited. I have never had a baby shower with my family and friends. When I was 19 and got "knocked up" my parents were mortified and angry. When I got pregnant the second time, I didn't even tell them until I was 4 months pregnant (we lived in Germany) because I didn't think they would be happy for us. I am not sure if I was right, but I never really wanted to know.

Now I am almost 40 and our babies are grown up, the high school kid will be 18 in June. Don't get me wrong, I love my life and do not want to have a baby, it's just that if I did get pregnant, I feel like the sentiment from my other pregnancies would linger, even though I am an adult, married, and have an education. I kind of know that actually. I told my Dad a few years ago that Mr. P and I were thinking about another baby, and he told me that it was stupid.

I missed the "People are happy you are pregnant" boat. Looks like a really cool boat, and it makes me sad that I will never get to ride it.

Musings, if you will

So, in the foggy light of 6:30am on Saturday, waking up ON PURPOSE to go walk 6 miles in the chilliness seems like kind of a jackass idea. I wanted the shirt. I already have the shirt. See what I am saying?

We "carb loaded" like big old freaks last night, which means we ate wheat pasta and Prego. We went to bed at 10pm on FRIDAY night, but I didn't fall asleep until midnight because I was stressed I might not be able to sleep and would thusly be too tired and crabby this morning. check.

Oh, and the best of all. Too much information for sure, but I started my period. Nothing says awesome fun like changing a tampon in a porta potty at the state park.

Catch ya in 6.2 miles!

ETA: My goal was to not be last...guess what? I was THIRD (to last). 1 hour 39 minutes. I am about to put IcyHot sleeves on my ankles, drink some water and take a nap, followed by a movie, then beer and wings.

Now that I am finished with it, the whole 10K seems like a fine idea. But man, my 6:30am self was kind of bitchy. First thing I said to Mr. P today, "So, SpeedRacer, who's idea was this anyway?"

Is it okay to be "that guy"?

You know how you aren't supposed to wear a Duran Duran shirt to a Duran Duran concert because you don't want to be "that guy"?

Well, tomorrow is the big 10K and we are picking up our shirts tonight. Can I wear my 10K shirt to the 10K, or does it follow the same principle?

I guess in my mind if someone finds me comatose in a ditch on the side of the road wearing the 10K shirt, they will at least know why I am there and will gather whiskey and fried chicken to bring me around.

ETA: In the spirit of full disclosure: I will NOT be running the 10K. I will be walking, with spurts of jogging...

Star crossed lovers

I have been trying for FIVE days to get a picture of said lovers because without the picture, the absurdity and adorableness can not be adequately described. However, I failed yet again, and I feel like telling the story, so you will just have to use your imaginations.

We live on a "lake", which I consider more to be a pretty big pond. In the lake, for the last several weeks, there has been this white, crabby duck. Well, I thought this duck was crabby, because every time I let the dogs into the yard that duck quacked, and not a sweet happy quack, the quack of a pissed off duck. I thought maybe she was protecting eggs or herself from the potential threat of the dogs, especially the big one, shown here...Joe, he is 100lbs of dog.

The only decent pictures I have of him are when he is asleep because he is afraid of getting his picture taken. I don't know.

After a week of that duck FREAKING OUT when the dogs were outside, I watched to see what was happening, and low and behold, the duck isn't mad when the dogs come outside....it is quite the opposite. The duck swims to our fence, Joe goes down to the fence and they look at each other. No barking, no quacking, and Joe even wags his tail. I can't get a picture because as soon as I step outside, Joe turns around and comes to me, and while I can see what is happening from my window, my camera isn't good enough to capture it. However, I have the aftermath of Joe coming in today after I tried to capture it from the deck (look for the whitish dot swimming away dejectedly when Joe returns inside).

Don't you just love a good interspecies love story? (As long as one of the species isn't human, that is.)

Pictures of You. Pictures of Me.

On Friday, CK tagged me for a picture meme, yet I was away from Blogland for a few days so I didn't know, then I looked to see what picture it was to think of a clever story and BOO. My picture is boring. I have now looked at my folders in 24,675 different ways to see if I can find a better picture with a better story, that still conforms to the rules, but you know what? I felt GUILTY cheating on a fucking blog picture thing, so even though it does NOT compare to wax lips, a rock star baby, a pine tree farm, or a cat, here is my 4th picture from my 4th folder:

That is Tim Hudson, who is a starting pitcher for the Atlanta Braves. He was heading out to the bullpen to warm up for the game. We happened to be at the game as one of the bookends of a big trip that Mr. P and I took summer before last. On Saturday we left home and headed to Atlanta and saw a Braves game, on Sunday we flew to Chicago for a conference that I had to go to. From Chicago, we flew to Newark, NJ to spend the following weekend celebrating Steamboat's first birthday. Then home again on Sunday. It was a great trip! As an aside, I met Tim Hudson last Thursday and got his autograph.

Now I have to do the dreaded 30 Day shred and get ready for work. blech.

Disclaimer: I'm a bitch

You know how you come home from work, crash on the couch with the mail, then drop it on the floor and kick it under your coffee table?

Then to unwind a little bit, have a quick nosh...

Yes, I did take pictures of my hostess's house from this weekend on the sly because I couldn't. believe. my. eyes. Yes, it is mean-spirited to make fun of someone's personal style...but DUDE I really don't make too much fun of ugly, but clutter makes me crazy. If it weren't for the trash packed under the coffee table, I would have just giggled at the full maroon shag toilet and left it at that.

REALLY I am not judgmental of taste, and know that it is an individual thing...in your home you should decorate as you see fit, because it is where you snuggle and live and are, without fear of public recrimination on said style. BUT beware, if you shove your mail under your coffee table, or pile crap on top of garbage on top of shot glasses of the United States, I am totally going to take pictures with my phone and put it on my blog.

That all being said, if you come to my house and you think that the rope lights on the kegerator, oar hanging on the wall, or college posters are lame...Mr. P did that.

Dear Universe,

I think my sister hates me. She got 30 Day shred from Netflix, and then blogged about it, basically taunting me saying I was too fat to do it, so I had to take the challenge and do it too, and now I can't even form a coherent paragraph because I am all dizzy from forcing my gigantic ass to jumping jack, plus it doesn't really matter anyway because typing is. too. hard. (Okay, so none of that is actually true, other than she got the DVD and blogged about how she was doing it. Oh, and the me near death part, that is true too.)

Also, why did you make my Dad's birthday and my husband's birthday so close together...and maybe more important, why did you make it so celebrating living one extra year means we drink and eat to the point that we seriously must be trying not to make it to the next year?

And then, why did you let me think that I owed it back to you to work out extra hard this morning to make up for said birthday celebrations? I did my first Week 3 workout for Couch to 5K even before I did the Jillian pyscho torture DVD. I ended up throwing up a little in my mouth which prompted more in my neighbor's yard. It was just water, and we have kind of been in a drought, so really, I did them a favor, and they really need to quit looking at me that way. I bet their daffodils are spectacular this year.

But really, Universe, I just really wanted to ask you about the bizarre time vortex when I am working out in that 3 minutes is more like 457 hours, but when I am watching television trying to delay having to take a shower 3 minutes is more like 22 seconds...but I just don't have the energy, so nevermind.

Love,
Fatty McButterpants


P.S. I gained 2.4 lbs for this week's weigh-in, so I am back to an A+ on my fat test (96.79%), but I did lose a percentage of fat.