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.

From once a month, to once a day? Really?

Today is the start of NaBloPoMo or some such combination of letters, and I have done this once a day posting for November quite successfully the last two years. Then, I decided about a week ago that I wanted to do it again this year, to reconnect with some people that I have missed and to reconnect with myself in my own mind.

---I am struggling with a few things.



Then stuff blew up and while I want to write it out, I have to decide if it is something I am comfortable sharing...I probably should wait until I am less upset, because right now the title of my blog post is, "Raising Asshats For Dummies" and I am pretty sure that is not the sentiment I want lingering on the Interwebs for all eternity because while I feel like there is some asshatty behavior going on right now, they are no actual asshats, per se.



And then finally, to maybe start being accountable again to myself about my healthy (or lack thereof) habits.



So here it is...I am throwing my hat into the ring for November 2010...we will see how it goes.

most annoying creature ever

is how Mr. P refered to Frisky.

Disclaimer: This is a downer post, but I hoped writing would help. I can't tell yet, which is why I am posting anyway.

Our cat.

She was a TALKER and PURRER and BEGGAR of potato chips and fried chicken. She wasn't that independent, she spent most of her time with us. However, she would also randomly sleep in closets, drawers, shelves, cabinets or right in the middle of the floor or in the middle of the dining room table.

Then, yesterday morning I got up and was organizing some stuff, and went into the still very cluttered office to get a file folder, and she was under the desk. Not that surprising, until I talked to her and she didn't immediately talk back. I got really nervous and it was completely founded...our Frisky had died. She was 15, probably very close to the day. I am so sad. I don't even like cats that much. She was SO annoying. But here I am. Sorta heartbroken. I stayed home yesterday. I went into work today and trying not to cry made my stomach hurt so bad I had to come home and just cry. My nose is stuffy and I look a wreck now, but my stomach doesn't hurt anymore. But now Mr. P is on his way home, he has been out of town, and I have to look at his face, and he REALLY loved her, out loud and all the time.

I had to come home and look at pictures of her alive so that I could get that last memory out, but it won't go. it won't go. And while it is here, I can only cry for that damn damn cat.

I got a major slump going on up in here

So, last I left you, Mr. P had been laid off and we were headed out for my birthday weekend. Let's see, since then:

• I turned 41. Mr. P threw me TWO birthday parties. One drinky party and one family party. My mom pitched a fit that she was not invited to the drinky party.
• We moved out of tiny apartment into tiny house. The house is tiny. Tiny. t.i.n.y. I got bummed out at the tinyness and the crampedness and quit unpacking about a day in. I am still not moved in nearly 6 weeks later.
• I kept Eli for a weekend. Wow. 4 is tough.
• Went away with my highschool girlfriends for a weekend. Awesome. Laughter. Hugs.
• Joined a new gym and got a personal trainer. Quit running. Quit everything. Even bailed on my trainer this week.
• Mr. P got a new job where he has to travel out of town at least one night a week. It is way harder than I thought it would be. So much so, that I went with him last night. (The job is great, he loves it, he is making more money than before, he is happy and he has a company truck that he digs driving around Alabama.)
• I joined a bowling league and on the first day I bowled a 150 and 141, but now two days later my knee hurts and my middle finger does too.
• I got a health screening and my numbers are good. (Blood pressure, blood sugar, cholesterol, etc.)

I don't know what is going on with me. I feel guilty and shitty for getting behind on stuff. And my new diet of hydrogenated/fructose corn syrup snacks that I enjoy with beers probably doesn't help my attitude or motivation much either.

I took before pictures of the house o'tiny when we moved in. My plan is to be able to take the after pictures on Sunday. Plus, I have a huge harvest of peppers and I want to invite the family over for stuffed peppers next week. Will I get it done? Time will tell.

Missing simplicity

Today I was in a bookstore and there was a mom and her two little kids looking at books and I had a crazy sad feeling of nostalgia for summers past when we were poor and trying to keep our shit together with school and bills and then on top of that trying to figure out how to keep two kids entertained on little time and even less money. Lots of swimming, $1 movies, entire afternoons at the McDonald's playground, kids coaching me through Pokemon Shoot (a video game where you mimic taking photographs of the elusive Pokemon guys, and that might be the wrong name).

I am feeling sad for those times because my kids and I are struggling with our relationships right now. I feel like they are not handling their shit appropriately, and I bet they feel like I am micromanaging and judging them and they are most definitely right. I am wholeheartedly trying to protect them from their dumb ass baby adult selves as I wish someone would have done for me. BUT, I guess we are getting close to a point in their lives where I have to let them do whatever it is they are going to do...regardless of the repercussions. That is just a very hard lever to pull.

fatstuff and green babies

All I can manage to do these days is wrap myself in Mr. P, my fat dog, and my new plant babies (which I even took pictures of to liven up this post, but I don't have the patience to wait for them to load).

Things are overwhelming to say the least, and while I am good at regaling you with trivial tales of people calling me the wrong name, venting about my mother, or teasing Mr. P, when it comes to the big, real, meaty stuff, I get too many thoughts swirling around that when I sit down to write and my brain gets all scrambled and sad so I switch to Facebook where I can post ridiculous one-liners about how I laughed at Mr. P for recording "America: The Story of Us" and he told me if I would watch things like that I could live up to my trivia playing potential, or how I planted some peppers in Topsy Turvy planter (hence the green babies), or how we spent Friday afternoon at the lake. Nice. Simple. Surface.

I need to write about Relay for Life and what walking. and walking. and then walking some more meant to me. I need to vent how my team let me down. I need to tell how Mr. P took perfect care of me and everyone else in our 'camp' that night. I need to talk about how thrilled I was that I had so many donations from friends around the country. AND, I need to give someone some downright awesome and funky pants. Today was step one, putting some words behind my voice. Tomorrow may there be substance. And free pants.

Well, maybe not tomorrow, it is my TWENTY FIRST anniversary, but definitely Thursday for sure.

Drowing in my own head

I worked 14 hours on Monday and I was exhausted.

I woke up Tuesday morning and learn that my sister is having a hard few days and that makes me feel awful because I can't do anything to help her. Then a mere minutes later I learn that my colleague died. He was 38 years old. His wife is FORTY. FORTY. My exact age. Her husband, her life partner is gone. She has three children. She is FORTY.

So I went running and got all inside my own head with angst and mortality thoughts and more and more and more angst. I decide to power through and head to circuits. After circuits I am flying through the locker room getting changed for hula.

I run into an old friend. She started out as my sister's boss. Then she gave Mr. P some work one summer that we were really broke...he painted her restaurant silver. It still is silver and it always makes me smile when I see it. She gave my kid's their first jobs. Last year during the awful, brutal 10K she hung with me a bit and high fived and was super supportive of my weightloss/exercise efforts. Anyways I ask her how she has been and she blurts out, "My mom died." fuck me. They were shopping on New Year's Eve and her mom just fell down...she had a stroke and died and I never had any idea. I really rock on the friend frontier.

So I went to hula.

Then I cried.

And now?

I am trapped in my own head and I can't get out.

Life happens, so you should LIVE

When I was in 10th grade we moved to Alabama and I started high school with 350 kids. I was still the 'new' kid when we graduated 3 years later because everyone else had been going to school together since Kindergarden.

Anyway, during that first week of 10th grade I was assigned two lab partners in Biology and one of those lab partners led to most of my high school friends and many, many memories. As typical with a small town high school, we had crushes on each other (at different points in time), he was the object of a very weird love triangle with two of my now very good friends, we played tennis, drank grain alcohol mixed into Hawaiin Punch, collected 50 seeds for Biology and during that project I tried chewing tobacco and dry heaved for hours and hours, he joined my church and we went through confirmation classes and softball coached by my father.

We lost touch after high school and he made some very bad choices. VERY bad. But, at the 20 year reunion he was sober and looked great, his wife seemed happy, and their kids are cute.

(He is in the blue shirt).

I have now spent 10 minutes trying to decide how to tell you where I am in the photo if you couldn't tell. I am on his right when looking at the photo, but really I am on his left IN the photo and I don't know which one is the right way to tell you. How about I have on the white shirt. I babble, because the hard stuff is next.

************************************************
Two nights ago, he was speeding, drinking and not wearing his seatbelt. He is in a coma.

************************************************

The evening I got the news about my high school friend, some friends asked us AGAIN to go skiing/snowboarding/tubing with them for the weekend. I immediately said, "Maybe next year when I have lost a bit more weight." They are used to that song and dance and just smiled and said, "cool".

Then I looked at Mr. P and out of NOwhere I said, "YES. We CAN go." So yesterday I found a hotel, rented a car, got a pet sitter, and figured out what we have to do to rent equipment. Tomorrow at lunch we will pack up and head north to a VERY cold eight degree mountain and we will try our hands at skiing and tubing and bringing in the New Year in a life where I no longer say NO because of my weight.

I am done WAITING. I am ready to be LIVING.

Because you just never know.

Specious rewards?

Some of my research focuses on how users of technology focus only on short term rewards instead of considering the long term benefits of learning a new technology. This is especially evident in industries where time is extremely valuable.

I am finding myself struggling with this exact notion, not with learning technology, but with kind of everything else....I have a colleague who is dying, to the point that his wife is afraid to order a birthday cake for herself in a few weeks because he might not be around and it might be too hard on their kids. I think about them all the time and I think that is why I struggled so badly with food last week and am struggling with all kinds of decisions that usually I do not fret about.

"If I am going to get hit by a bus tomorrow, who cares if I am 3 pounds heavier from chicken wings and cookies?"

"What if something happens and I regret not taking Mr. P to Vegas because it would take most of our savings?"

THEN, I go more long term...

"What if I get diagnosed with something and if I had just lost weight I could fight it better?"

"What if I use all our savings to go to Vegas and the truck breaks down?"

I am struggling to find a balance between living in the present and living for the future.

When do you live for?

the girl who eats too many cookies

Last week Mr. P and I had a picture perfect week of healthy, healthy, healthy topped off with a 10K run. I got lots of good regular work done. I woke up feeling perky, with that good muscle stiffness that comes from lots of running...you know what I mean, right?

But this week? Not so much. We have eaten out every.night. And more nights than not (this week) we had adult beverages. or three. All in all, I am not digging how I feel. Sluggish and tired and bloated and blah. That feeling leads to wanting to eat Wendy's or McDonald's "to feel better".

Feeling all pathetic and wilted this morning has me all introspective. I am wondering about Shay from the Biggest Loser. ****SPOILER ALERT**** She started out at 450+ pounds. She lost 100 pounds, then got voted out. Usually when someone gets booted there is a little 'where are they now' update at the end of the show. They didn't show hers. Why not? Did she gain it all back? Plus some?

That is how I got to be 100 pounds overweight. I started out 20 lbs overweight and lost it all in a month in a VERY unhealthy way. Gained it back plus some. Had two babies, and then was 40 pounds overweight. Lost 25 in a few months. Gained 45 back. You see the cycle. If I do that to myself again, I could end up at 300 pounds. I really thought I had broken my cycle and haven't really considered that I would gain all the weight back until last night when I ate 7 cookies. SEVEN. In a matter of minutes. So while I have changed in many, many ways...that tendency is still there.

So I sit here today sadly admitting to the world that even with all my running and talk of healthy choices, underneath that facade, I am, and likely always will be the girl who eats too many cookies.

asstastic

So I have got the hemorrhoids. I actually got them when I was pregnant with the College Kid, but they never, ever bothered me.

That is over.

The 'home care' as prescribed by Dr. Google?

Ice.

Really?

I am supposed to put ice on my...or in my...well, you know where hemorrhoids are. AND lay on my side. It is hard to computer laying on my side with ice...well, you know. AND it isn't like my arm is sore, or I pulled a muscle...so it is hard to explain to people that I can't hang out or do things because my hemorrhoids hurt too much. jeez. If it isn't one thing it's another. damn.

ETA: I think it is really fitting that I spelled hemorrhoids wrong THREE times in this post (don't check now, I fixed it.)

Body fluid removal kit

yeah, that sign attached to a teensy white suitcase looking dealy attached to the dashboard of the transit bus didn't instill much confidence in me this morning.

Yes, I am still doing the transit thing. I am still working on healthy, healthy, healthy...am actually in my second week of 10K training...not to do a 10K at any pace per se, but to complete one whilst completing the jogging motion the entire time on November 7. I am doing well on POINTS for the first 4 or so days of the week, then comes socializing all weekend and when I socialize I tend to drink beers and eat food. All this together means my weight is dropping ounces per week, but the key term is DROPPING and I can live with that for now.

I turn in my tenure dossier a week from today and am working on my teaching philosophy and research philosophy as well as revising a few papers and starting a new one, so my writing energy has been directed towards those endevours....I end up having no words left for blogging or commenting.

I have fun stuff coming up that should offer blog fodder that is not "whoa is me, I am fat", or "whoa is me, trying to get tenure sucks". Maybe tomorrow I will lighten the mood and tell you about how Mr. P has discovered farming on Facebook and posts PICTURES of his farm nearly daily. Or how my son just wrote a script and he and some friends are going to film a movie---they are even trying to convince one of the sub-managers at the movie theater to show it once. How my daughter got to have dessert with a Nobel prize winner yesterday...she was selected from an entire college due to her research efforts. Or how my nephew is dreaming of the day he can get tiny again so that he is free to poop in his pants. naaaahhh. "Whoa is me" is much more how I roll these days.

now I have an enabler

Yesterday afternoon I had meetings with the dean of the college and the head of my department in regards to my tenure packet. The meetings were okay, but I am feeling less and less confident, but I must admit, there is no real reason to, other than I am just so...well, me. Add to that, a friend sent me an ad for a super cute studio condo for sale downtown (exactly what I want, where I want) and the pressure inside me is building to a critical level.

Today my sister posted about all her activities to keep her out of the funk I am in now. I had typed out a comment, that I then realized I could use as my own post today to compare and contrast, in her words from her comment yesterday, our current coping styles.

So read what she did today, then read how I handled myself during the same span of time, not 6 miles from her flurry of activity.

I went in the COMPLETE opposite direction as Penny. I am still in pajamas and glasses, I was too lazy to put in my contacts because I will only be out of bed for 8 ish hours today. Mr. P called in sick, we stayed in bed until nearly 2pm watching Friends on DVD...Season 1. We then moved upstairs to the couch where we have caught up on all our TiVo. Ate pizza. Played on iTunes. I farmed on FaceBook. We are out of laundry soap and I have a sink full of dishes. I haven't run and I don't plan to at this point and I feel like shit about it because I started my 10K training program yesterday.

I haven't even sent in my vote for dinner tomorrow (Penny sent us all an email about a new dinner locale) because that decision requires me to make.a.decision and I just don't have it in me.

Here is where I stand, well sit on the couch watching Chad Ochocinco compare losing his ability to Twitter on the sidelines with losing his penis (and I thought I was dramatic). I get today to wallow, and wallow in the deepest most pessimistic depths of my soul. When my alarm goes off at 5am tomorrow, I will put my crappy attitude back in my pocket and move ahead. I will do my run from today tomorrow morning, then maybe add in a good walk tomorrow afternoon if the weather permits. I will finish my dossier and give it to my department head so I can let it all go, because at that point it is what it is. Start working on a new research project. Prep my classes. Buy tickets to Indianapolis. Get a hotel reservation to visit my friend in College Station at the end of September. Start planning my Halloween costume (Mr. P and I are going as Mr. Salt and Mrs. Pepper from Blue's Clues). Focus on the awesome stuff, and let this tenure crap fucking crawl back into the recesses of my mind until I get information on the vote in mid-October. At that point I will give myself permission to wallow should the need arise. Until then...

Today I let my crap get the best of me. Tomorrow I will get the best of it. Promise.

I cried twice today

Not BOO HOO crying, but tearing up to the point that liquid actually fell out of my eyeball...

1. At the supreme deliciousness that were the cubes of watermelon I was eating for breakfast. Perfect texture and just the right amount of sweet. OH.SO.GOOD. How am I such a lucky bastard to be afforded the right to eat such wonderfulness whenever I want?

then about 5 hours later....

2. At Willie Nelson's, "Always on my Mind" playing on a ASPCA commercial. You know, the commercial that shows all of these puppies and kitties who are just so so sad. WHY oh WHY have these poor creatures been smited?

After I turned my head so CK2 would not see me crying, I realized...duh. Hormones much? I now have my defenses ready, Midol and a heating pad. So if I over dramatized on anyone's blog today...sorry, it was hormones and leftover angst at NOT being able to correctly cook grits so that I could make Blackberry Grits.

I read the box, did everything as I was directed (I thought) and I got grit soup. How can it be THAT hard? Women in the old south were making that shit right from hominy, and I can't mix dry grits with water in a pot???? fuck. I seem to be getting all worked up again, time to just call it.a.day.

Bring on the good company

First, I am back to doing "bad" on my Fat Test. Scored a measly 86.93%, which means I am back into losing old weight, as opposed to recent weight. I also managed to run 3 miles this morning and it felt good. AND as CK noted, my good company FINALLY arrives tomorrow.

Even with all that positive energy, I lost my shit today. Mr. P and I had an argument at the grocery store over ice cream flavors. This argument was inane and ridiculous, and I should have never allowed it to happen. It was all my fault, and before you read how insane I was, please know that I immediately apologized.

This afternoon at lunch I told my mom that after Mr. P and I finished at the gym we could bring home ice cream sundaes for dinner since we were out of time. I asked her what kind she would want. "super frozen hard ice cream." okay, but what KIND of sundae exactly? Hot Fudge, of course, because I am a fucking sundae idiot. Then I said that the gym was by an ice cream place that had the hand scooped ice cream, but that after traveling home it might not be "super, frozen and hard." I said that being facetious. Her completely serious response? "Then I guess you better come up with a different plan." oh for the love of (insert ANYTHING at all here).

After the gym, Mr. P and I were walking outside a bit to avoid going home cool down, and I told Mr. P the story. After groaning and griping about her miserosity, we decided to get stuff to make sundaes at home. Fast forward to ice cream aisle at the grocery store. We first pick some toppings. Microwave hot fudge and strawberry topping. Then we start browsing the ice cream. I am perusing 3 for $5 pints, and I find a blueberry something or other that looks delish. At the same time, Mr. P found some 3 for $10 half gallons, and he has chosen vanilla. Here is where I realize he is perhaps, at that moment, the most annoying individual on the planet. What the fuck are we going to do with an entire half gallon of VANILLA? Really? Vanilla? So he says, get your blueberry thing, and pick what you think your mom might like if not vanilla, because vanilla works with all the toppings. So I say, "Let's get Neopolitan" (meaning in lieu of vanilla). He says fine, and adds Neopolitan to the cart. with. the. vanilla. Neopolitan AND vanilla? What the fuck is wrong with him?

I am so upset and near tears because I truly could not figure out what ice cream to buy to make everyone happy, and honestly, I was selfishly NOT wanting that amount of ice cream in the house very near my mouth. So THEN I gripe at Mr. P that I can NOT believe he is okay with buying $20 worth of ice cream when he rolled his eyes at $4 organic peanut butter. At this point he said, "You know what? I don't care if your mother ever has a fucking sundae in her whole miserable life," and put all the sundae stuff back.

Then when we were checking out, I was putting stuff on the belt and he had the fucking audacity to DO IT FOR ME. I looked him straight in the eye, "You are annoying me." oh dear. So he says, okay, maybe I should just go and I will meet you at home. "GOOD IDEA". what a tool.

He leaves the store, and it takes me ummm. all of about 12 seconds to realize, "That may NOT have been about ice cream."

This fucking graduation better be good.

ETA: Based on the first couple of comments, I don't think I acurately portrayed Mr. P. He was sincerely trying to do whatever I wanted and no matter what he did, I hated him for it. The best thing he did was put it all away!

Out of sync

By the time I had been awake for two hours I had done laundry and run 3 miles. Problem is, I got up at noon. I was up until well after 3am. Seems my hamthrax (not my term, Jen L. used it in a comment) has downgraded to croup. Which means as soon as I lay down, I am Coughy McCoughsALot. Plus, I have been using cold medicine at night so falling asleep has been easy, and now it is time for me to get off the meds. My waking hours are not in sync with the rest of my family, or any people on central time for that matter.

I am in a point in my schedule where I can "afford" to sleep in and only accomplish a 3.1 mile run in a workday. BUT, I have WORKwork to do. I have HOUSEwork to do. And I start thinking about getting something accomplished and I realize ehh...I still have 5 days until the house needs to be sparkly (owner coming by), and 8 days until my MOTHER shows up (oh my god. 8 days until my MOTHER shows up for EIGHT days), 11 days until I start summer school, and 13 days until my MOTHER-IN-LAW shows up (I need to write a whole post about what that means).* plenty of time to get everything done. plenty. that is my modus operandi. When I have buttloads to do, I do nothing, nothing, nothing, whirlwind.

Anyways, also out of sync? My stride. I know I did a 5K route, same neighborhood route we have done bunches of times, but today, I only got cred for 2.75 miles. DUDES. I am an accountant/auditor. If I report stats on WeightWatchers or here, I like backup. So this whole post I have felt guilty for saying 3 miles when my Nike+ only says 2.75. bitch.

For you WeightWatcher's out there...if I input jogging for 48 minutes (I know, right. turtling it up big time), I get credit for 9 Activity Points...but according to my Nike + I burned 494 calories which is 5 Activity Points. I have been going with the Nike +, but I like the WW more! WW seems to reward me for going longer but slower. (yeah, that's what she said.)

*There are also FUN things happening in the same window. Highschool kid in Fiddler on the Roof, Highschool kid becoming College Kid II, and sister, brother-in-law, and NEPHEW visiting!!!!

recovering

Last week was an emotional rollercoaster. After getting the great news Monday, we celebrated. After the horrific Wednesday, we commiserated and mourned and we have moved to the recovery phase. Some of you may think I have gotten to the recovery stage too soon...honestly, I just can't do the sad thing for very long, I can do it DEEP and FAST and DEEP again, but I don't have the stamina to sustain. I loved my dog. I hate that she is gone, I had her for 38% of my life, and it is weird not having her around now. I have read and re-read my post about her and all of your wonderful, comforting comments and cried at least once every day, until today. Today I remembered that she also used to sleep in the bathtub, (we figure it was the only place she could keep cool in our tiny Texas duplex), and I smiled.

During all of this, I didn't count points and kind of fell apart from a health perspective. I tried to make some healthier choices (I drank Michelob Ultra and ate veggie pizza, mmm. Not buying those as the 'healthier choices' ? yeah. so anyway...), and I managed to get out and run 3 times. I provided myself with excellent rationales the whole.week. Even until just TWO minutes ago when I had a 100 Calorie pack of Orea Cakesters and some fruit snacks even though I am not hungry. I just wanted it, and damn it, insert excuse here, I am going to have it.

I am mad at myself now that all those other emotions aren't in there to fuck with me, it is going to suck to have to lose the same weight AGAIN next week that I lost last week, but that is the way the Oreo Cakesters crumble.

On a related, but sort of completely different note: Thanks for being there for me. My sister is great support, and Mr. P rocked as well, but my Dad, well, he wrecked his truck, and my mom, well, she let me talk for 4ish minutes before we talked about her dog that died (which for my mom is actually quite good), so it was really, really amazing to know that there were 28 people across the world who felt bad that Nala died with me. I switched to Google Reader during my crappy days, because I wanted to read, but didn't have the words to comment other than, "thanks for saying you were sorry my dog died" and that was getting pretty depressing, even though really, really thanks for saying that.

Some of you did some pretty cool things that I loved reading about, even when I was feeling pretty sorry for myself:

Bea, I LOVED that you decked out as Batman and friends...that 5K time was rocking. AND, I have a picture of me and Mr. P with Rick Perry outside our duplex. Seth McKinney (TAMU center) lived next door and his dad and the gov were BFF.
Ashley, those crepes look SO good, and I am so happy for you that the little brother called to tell you about his successes, that means a lot.
Kilax, I hope I get to the point where I need to refuel with Jelly Bellies, not oxygen! What do you do about water? I am parched after 2K every.single.time.
Nilsa, it is really cool that you got out there and helped in that neighborhood...I need to get involved like that, and thanks for the reader tutorial.
Tara, your garden makes me GREEN with envy. I love it. LOVE it. AND, thanks so much for the commercial, it made me laugh.
Tracy, I love your photo comparisons, it is crazy how time goes by so fast.

Look how presumptuous I am that these bloggers will actually read this post...now it is kind of making me nervous and antsy that I am being too presumptuous. There are many more comments I want to share, and other bloggers did some cool stuff too, and I plan on spending some time tomorrow catching up with everyone.

I needed the time away, but I missed you guys!

my dog

my dog died today. my dog who was always the sidekick, never the main dog and never seemed to care. my dog who ate out of the catbox every. single. day. my dog who dug for chipmunks, always determined, yet never successful. my dog who loved sleeping under a Christmas tree so much, we started leaving our silver tree up year round for her. my dog that was so sheddy, that to vacuum the living room we had to empty the cannister. TWICE. my dog who was supposed to have an inner ear disorder, but really had tumors. my dog who would lay on anything you left on the floor; a towel, a sock, a plastic tablecloth:

the universe does NOT want us to take holiday.

Tonight after I finished cooking dinner and had called the boys to get their plates, I saw that Mr. P was getting paper towels and a plastic bag...he was cleaning up dog poop. Our older dog pooped on the floor and she NEVER does that. Then she staggered away, and when I checked on her, her eyes were twitching back and forth and she was tilting her head and panting. After we ate, I was afraid she was in pain, so we took her to the vet school emergency room. I was sure it was over for her. I was crying, Mr. P was trying to comfort me, but he was scared too, and it sucked.

The prognosis is canine peripheral vestibular syndrome. This is GOOD news. Nala (yeah, we got her the summer that Lion King came out) is staying over night at the vet school and will see a doggie neurologist in the morning to confirm the diagnosis. We really want this diagnosis to be correct, as the other choices are cancer or brain tumor and she is 15 years old.

We had just decided on a quick trip to Disney to celebrate our anniversary since Vegas got cancelled for a sick boat. Now Disney is cancelled for a sick dog.

I think the universe is telling us to stick close to home.

message received. will do.

SEE Ya!

March, 2009.

Let's see.

Not a banner month for HotchPotchery. I wallowed in self-pity which led to a crazy-ass funk, got my "best" paper rejected which broke my work heart, ONLY lost 3.2 lbs (my 6 lb statement from the other day included a weigh-in from March 2, which was mostly February weight loss), sat through THREE completely rainy weekends (one with snow), AND had to wait extra long to get paid (I am semi-monthly).

But also: I ran 5K for the first time all in a row, did Body Pump, got a different paper accepted, bought and wore extra large workout pants (that is just ONE extra if you are keeping score) and watched a friend get married. All pretty good things, actually, really good things, but man, did I really pout this month. POUTED hard. I nearly got to the point where I was never going to get to pout in the Olympics...I almost turned pro. I had one endorsement deal but I decided it is going the way of March. This time in 3 hours, funk OVER. busted. moved on.

Tomorrow, I will be bright, shiny, and happy. I will still be a bitch, but I will be damn happy about it.

ETA: Tuesday nights we always watch American Idol with the highschool kid. Tonight as it was ending we got a scrolly thing telling us that our local Fox affiliate decided we weren't grown enough to decide for ourselves if we wanted to watch the Osbourne's new variety show. That really peeves me. a lot.