Is recycling just my religion?

One of my old coworkers (a coworker from a long time ago, not a coworker that is OLD) has arthritis, and once a month has to see her rheumatologist (I think that is the right word...arthritis doctor) and everytime she has an appointment she makes some comment on Facebook about how she is going to visit her favorite Muslim and she hopes she has a "divine" meeting. Someone asked her to explain, and she made some comment about getting him to see the way, or something equally obnoxious about making her doctor love Jesus. I remember once her and I having a conversation that it was my duty as a wife to serve Mr. P. I think I laughed right out loud. ANYWAY, her most recent visit is today, and just as I was about to DeFriend her, I got thinking about something I did to my friend on Friday night.

Friday night we went to a friend's house to play poker and we were having some snacks and beers. After I finished a beer, I asked him where to put the can. He said in the black container at the end of the counter. It was the trash can. I was really shocked. I said in a very loud super judgey voice, "YOU DON'T RECYCLE???" and he said, "No, I don't really care about the Earth...I don't have kids to leave it to anyway." Then, Mr. P, me and another friend harrassed him for 10 minutes about how easy it is to recycle and how he should and on and on and on. We were kind of relentless until he caved and said he would start.

Did I do the same thing to my friend about recycling that my co-worker is trying to do to her doctor...just swapping Mother Earth for Brother Jesus?

Tales of a slug

Seems I have spent SO MUCH time fretting over the beehive, and another situation I have yet to write a bug related metaphor for, that I forgot that I need to spend some time focused on ME. I have run three times IN A MONTH. I have been to the gym every week...for 30 minutes of personal training. I have eaten whatever and whenever I damn well pleased. My house is cluttery and dusty and the glass surfaces are so fingerprinty. When I get home in the dark darkness at 5pm, I sit on the couch with my iPad or laptop, find food to order online, and then spend the evening NOT thinking about anything of import. I go to bed at 10 and get up at 9. I am wearing yoga pants (that are too tight and bulge inappropriately) and tshirts every day unless I have to dress for class. My hair is perpetually in a pony tail, I haven't bothered with mascara in a week, and I think I could donate my leg hair to make wigs.

But the sun is out today and it is gorgeous. I went on a (short) run. I went to the gym (but I didn't get to workout, apparently I can't tell time). I went out for a salad. Then I went and picked out paint for 'the office' ---yes we have lived here for 6 months and that room is still a cluster. Then I stopped in Old Navy and they had some cutie pie dresses to wear with leggings, and I had ordered two more online from Lane Bryant that got here today. not a damn one fits appropriately. fuck me.

When I was cursing myself, I started thinking about this last year...I realized that I have let MY perceptions of other people's feelings cloud how I feel about myself. I used that mixed up shit to influence how I felt about running, boating, going on trips, eating, working, even freaking watching television. In all of that, I lost myself because I was so worried that my lifestyle was "wrong" or was hurting someone else's feelings.

I am going to try as hard as I can to let that go, and go back to living MY life the way I want. I don't want to be a slug. I don't really want to be a bee either. A butterfly is too cliche. Okay, the bug talk has gotten me off track...I am going to take a shower.

Honey or Jam?

Let's say, a honey bee that is part of a big hive of bees, was all of a sudden told...we do not really care for the honey that much anymore. We prefer jam. We know we brought you in to make honey, and actually we want you to keep making honey because we like that other hives know how good of a honey bee you are, BUT we are only going to give you clovers (bee money, DUH) if you are making some delicious JAM.

AND, AND, AND, we are going to require you to do a bunch more pollen collecting because remember we don't really like the honey and you really need to be making jam, even though everyone knows that honeybees don't even really know how to make very good jam.

When the hell does the freaking Dean QUEEN BEE expect that bee to make the jam????

sometimes.

Sometimes you find out that what you have worked for so hard is no longer valued.

Sometimes people lie and it just really hurts to know that you are so in the dark.

Sometimes you hear a song on the radio and it takes your breath away with the memories.

Sometimes you know that things can't stay the way they are, no matter how hard you fight to hold on to the past.

Sometimes, things hurt so much you can't bear it.

But sometimes, you find a pair of monkey slippers on your pillow after a horrible day, and you know you are loved.

And that, sometimes, is all that really matters.

Hotel sex is totally worth $12

I love hotels. I mean, I really, ridiculously love hotels. One of my favorite things about my job is that twice a year I get to go to really nice hotels courtesy of my school to attend conferences. I am in such a hotel right now. The Intercontinental Hotel in Atlanta. Here is my room (it was better before I junked it up with all my stuff, but I got here early to work, then I went to a reception and had THREE free Michelob Ultras so I am not cleaning up for pictures):




Here is the bathroom. I am totally have a bubble bath in that sucker tomorrow after my run. BOO.YAH.

But my favorite part of nice hotels? THE MINI BAR. I rarely get anything out of it, I just love knowing that I can. I get per diem when I am away, and I usually don't even come close to spending it, so if I want a $3 bag of M&M's then I am going to get them. (Last year I got a glass bear fully of horrid gummy bears for $9. Totally worth it.) This hotel offers a little something extra in the mini-bar that I have never seen before.....

BWAH HA HA...$12 for an "Intimacy Kit"? I totally want to know what you get for $12, because Mr. P is joining me tomorrow...wink wink. Sadly though, I can't find where the kit is...and there is no way I am asking about it.

So my slides are just about done, I am a little drunk, and I am waiting for my ROOM SERVICE club sandwich and mixed greens. Today, I love my job.

P.S. Texas Caviar is chopped onion, chopped peppers (whatever color(s) you want), chopped jalapeno, chopped habanero (only for the very brave), chopped cucumber, cans of black beans, black eyed peas, white corn and yellow corn (all drained). Salt, pepper and italian dressing. Easy peasy and delicious.

So, slept came

and had me under its spell for FOURTEEN hours. Oh my. I got up at 12:45pm today. I woke up once when Mr. P was getting ready for work and I was so disoriented I thought our house was flooding...it was raining and I could hear it just pouring in, but really it was Mr. P in the shower. I did take a generic sleep aid, but I think my lack of good sleep the last few nights contributed as well.

That meant my day was severly cut short. I ran and took 6 minutes off my 1.5 mile time from Monday. I think it was because today sucked ass weather wise, and I just wanted to get my butt home. I went to my office because I have to get my stuff for my conference which starts tomorrow, and I have yet to finalize my presentation...but that isn't until Saturday morning. I have to go by myself tomorrow, so I will have tomorrow afternoon and night to work in the hotel room. Mr. P will join me on Friday so we can watch the Cotton Bowl together with some friends at the conference. Would it interest you to know that my presentation is on procra$tination and its effect on tech.nology use in the workplace? (I put that $ and . in there because people in my field are known to google titles, and I really, really, don't need them to find this blog.) OH, that isn't interesting? mm.

So today was such a bummer weather wise, that I counted the days until it is officially spring. 75 days. Damn. To combat my rainy day blues, I made this:

It is Texas Caviar that Mr. P and I are going to eat on spring mix with some rotisserie chicken for dinner tonight. Isn't it bright and cheerful? Yes, it is about 16 cups, because I don't really know how to make less than that. My kids will finish it off while dog sitting this weekend, I am sure.

Oh, and if you like Sonic Cherry Limeaids, Diet Cherry 7-Up is a pretty tasty subsitute.

Guilt 1, Potcheries 0

After not being able to sleep worth a crap for the last two nights (post big boat visit), Mr. P and I decided today to not buy THAT big boat. We would have had to get a loan for part of it, and after a few days of soul searching, we decided to look for a boat a bit older, and a bit less expensive, and I finally feel more at ease and I am hoping that sleep comes to me tonight.



I should say WE didn't decide, Mr. P decided, but I am oh so glad. I won't tell him no when it comes to this because we have spent so much time doing what I want to do, when I want to do it, and how I want to do it, that I want him to have this. Plus my rationale for saying no is that I feel guilty for doing something so awesome when I know my kids are struggling. I know that Mr. P and I have WORKED for what we have...but guilt has built a house of brick within my brain and I just can't get that damn thing blown down. (VERY obscure reference to the 3 Little Pigs, and I am not sure why I did that.)


Anyways, I have been sleeping shittily, and thus feeling shitty because I am a girl who's very existence is tied to sleeping, so today I decided to go for a nice walk because it was gorgeous and sunny and near 60 degrees and I was hoping good outside air would help me sleep. I walked to the park and then "played" on their exercise equipment.





I went to work, then home for red beans and rice, and then crocheted for a bit. I am definitely making progress. I think Mr. P is already quite tired of, "Look at this...does it look like real crochet?" "Hey, look...I made this CIRCLE just out of YARN", and "WOW, did you ever know I could be such a great crocheter???"

I might be done with my first "project" in about a week. Aren't you JUST SO EXCITED???

ONLY 1.5 miles

I remember about 9 months ago, if my training called for a 1.5 mile run, I could basically head out in my jeans...wait, while on the topic of jeans, how do you guys feel about PAJAMA jeans? At first I laughed at the mere name, but then I watched the video. Considering my new pants of choice are yoga pants, which are really just like pajama pants, maybe they aren't as stupid as I think that I should think that they are, and maybe instead they are awesome. But to be a better judge I think I need to see some on a regular person...so if any of you are rocking the pajama jeans, will you please let me know?

ANYWAY, I picked out a new running program and I got started today with a 1.5 mile run. It was hard. It took me 24 minutes to go 1.6 miles. YIKES. On the topic of YIKES, I weighed in today, I am back to my March 2, 2009 weight. YIKES. 18 pounds higher than my weight this time last year. YIKES. YIKES. YIKES.

Since I have blogged and posted pictures every.single.day in 2K11, I don't want to wreck my streak, so here is one of my favorite Christmas prizes of this year courtesy of my sister.

May I present the CHRISTMAS CRAWDAD----

Might as well jump right on in.

This morning, Mr. P and I went to look at a boat. A BIG boat. It is a fantastic deal. It is exactly what we have been dreaming about buying. It could be our floating RV at the lake and the beach all summer. It has A/C and TV (besides water, my favorite two things of summer). We can afford it. We haven't completely decided, but we are fairly certain that we are going to give big boating a shot. We love little boating. big>little, so it stands to reason that big boating>little boating. Why then am I close to saying "No"? It is because I don't want to hurt our kids feelings that we are cutting them off the same time we are making a fairly extravagant purchase.



The boat was very close to a Bass Pro Shop, so we stopped to look at all the fish in their giant fish tank. It is sort of like a redneck aquarium in there.

Then we stopped at a craft store so that I could buy supplies for my crocheting.

I have managed to master the chain stitch and am getting better at a single crochet. I have spent most of the evening on this square shown on Mr. P's ankle to demonstrate scale. I think I might actually like crocheting, but I feel ultra old, with my bucket o'yarn and needles next to my chair. I will say, that holding the yarn and concentrating makes snacking pretty difficult.

So, on tap for tomorrow---start figuring out my workout/work routine that works with my class schedule, gym schedule and Mr. P schedule. Plus, I just remembered this afternoon that I have to present a paper at a conference on THURSDAY, so I may want to take a look at that.

Grapes are the new gold

I went to the store to get some grazing foods for the rest of today and tomorrow. Mr. P wanted Chinese, but I was feeling fruit/cheese/crackers/hummus/crudites/pretzels/perhaps a nacho.

Note how I wrote crudites? It is 2K11 and I am all about Klassy in 2K11.

Anyhow, I got some grapes:

I dare you to get how much I paid for said grapes.

No, really guess.

Pretty close.

TEN DOLLARS and THIRTY SEVEN CENTS.

Fuck me. No wonder in 2K11 I never bothered with WeightWatchers more than 2 days in a row, and all but quit running and gained 20lbs back. Grapes cost some freaking jack.

BUT no worries, I got them anyway and now I can graze on this:

I hope everyone finds 2011 to be the best year yet. I also hope to learn to crochet...which I have dubbed a necessary two-handed hobby that prevents food from being put into mouth while hobbying. I hope to put together a puzzle my school bestie sent me for getting tenure. I hope to get my shit together with respect to healthy, healthy, healthy. I hope to work on my relationships with my adults. I hope to grow the balls to ask for what I want/need at work to be really happy and to feel like the equal that I know that I am in a fairly predominant male office. I hope Mr. P gets the boat of his dreams and we have a divine summer on the water.

Here's to hoping on hopes.