It's New Year's Eve, 2010. I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday season. I did. So now we sit and await the new year. 2011 will be the Year of the Mama for me. For over a decade, my husband and I have been used to our DINK lifestyle. We freely come and go as we please, work our jobs, hang out with friends on the fly. The coming year, after baby arrives, will change all that. But we are thrilled. We spent most of 2010 watching my belly grow bigger and viewing every ultrasound in awe. In 2011 we'll finally meet the little guy and get to watch him grow with us. What an amazing blessing. 2010 was good to us.
There are things I will miss and things I am glad to see go away from the past year. I was thinking about a few of them today:
Food
Couldn't get enough of: Pop Tarts. The brown sugar, frosted ones. I eat them constantly.
Got rid of: Jalapenos. I used to eat the little rings of fire with abandon. Not anymore. Ouch.
Drinks
Couldn't get enough of: Lemonade. It always settled my stomach.
Got rid of: V8 juice. Once one of my faves, just can't stand it anymore.
TV
Couldn't get enough of: Teen Mom
Got rid of: Toddlers and Tiaras. Good gravy I'm glad we're having a boy.
Music
Couldn't get enough of: hmmmmmm, well, not much
Got rid of: Top 40 radio stations. Blehck.
Activities
Couldn't get enough of: Boating. Early pregnancy sickies put a damper on my sun time.
Got rid of: Boot camp. Wow, soooo hard. Pregnancy came just at the right time. Honorable discharge, ha.
News stories
Couldn't get enough of: Chilean miners. Amazing test of human strength.
Got rid of: Prince William and Kate. Really???
Time wasters
Couldn't get enough of: Facebook. Duh.
Got rid of: Sudoku. Used to love these puzzles, but decided the stress just wasn't worth it.
Material objects
Couldn't get enough of: my iPad
Got rid of: my Mac Book. Sorry, I am a PC.
Bad Habits
Couldn't get enough of: going out for dinner. I really need to stop this.
Got rid of: frozen microwave meals for lunch. They're soooo not worth it.
Pregnancy Wonders
Couldn't get enough of: my home Doppler, listening to his heart beat.
Got rid of: reading other people's stories on the Internet. Scary misinformation out there. I had to stop.
School
Couldn't get enough of: my Econ professor. Such a smart lady, she really made the class enjoyable.
Got rid of: worrying so much about grades. Good enough is ok.
Friends
Couldn't get enough of: the great movie night when we saw Sex and the City 2.
Got rid of: feeling guilty when I didn't feel good and had to say no, thank you.
Family
Couldn't get enough of: Mom's cooking. Especially when I was really tired and puny.
Got rid of: debating politics.
So, I guess I have some resolutions in mind. I dunno if I've ever stuck to any that I made in the past, but I can think of a few. I definitely need to cook more. I used to cook a lot. And now it's like I forgot how. My hubby will ask, "remember when you used to make that dish with the chicken and the garlic...?". And I'll think back and remember vaguely whipping up something. My problem is that I don't use a lot of recipes and will throw things together depending on what we have, so it's hard to remember exactly what I did or what all I put in it. So, I shall strive to cook more often, and keep track of dishes that we like.
Another one..... I will try to blog more. I should have plenty to post after baby arrives. And I won't have school for a whole semester so I won't have that excuse. I like writing and should try to do more. Heck, Sarah Palin's got two books under her holster, er, I mean, belt. What's my problem?
Thanks for reading. May the New Year bring you good first impressions, long awaited second chances, and many happy endings.
All things Olive today:
My husband
My dogs
My future
Friday, December 31, 2010
Sunday, December 5, 2010
No Two Flakes Are Alike!
Yesterday was a treat day for me. The day started when I awoke to the beautiful white landscape thanks for our first round of snow for the winter. There's nothing like watching the dogs discover this when they first wake up, too. They get all excited for me to open the back door and let them out, jumping around and whining, then when the door opens and they rush out into that cold wet snow they instantly put the brakes on and start daintily picking their paws up and trying to find a "snowless" spot to put them back down in. The little dog tries to do a "no thanks, I don't need to pee that bad, I'll just come back in the house now" about-face, but I don't let them back in till they just deal with it and do their business.
Anyway, my special treat for myself was to venture out to the pedicure shop. Now, I used to hate pedicures. My feet are very ticklish and I have a hard time not jumping every time the technician touches them. And I am scared of all those tools they have and what they might be used for and who they were last used on. But this shop is different, I haven't come across any scary tools and the jumpiness is kept to a minimum. Plus, the price is right.
I walked into the shop and picked out a cheerful red polish, just right for Christmas. The person who came over to greet me and take me to the chair for my pedi is the only man that works in the shop. I like him, he's chatty and nice and does a good job. As I handed him the red polish, I glanced out the window at all the pretty snow falling and asked, "Can you paint a snowflake on my toes, too?" Now, this is one of those nail salons in which all the workers are of Asian heritage and there is a lot of chatter in their first language as well as small talk with their clients. Everyone was busily working away, but when I asked this question, each worker stopped filing, buffing, or polishing and looked over our way. He paused for a moment, cut his eyes over to some of the other workers and then looked back at me-- "A snowflake? Just big toe, right? Um, yeah, we can do snowflake".
Hmmm, that was odd, but who cares, I was really just there for the massaging back chair, the foot rub, and to have someone else put some color on my toes because with this big belly in the way, there's no way I am expending that much energy.
The next half hour or so went along as expected: soak in the water, buff the feet, apply lotion, file the nails, paint the pretty red polish, wait for that to dry. I happily sat in a daze while the massaging chair rolled its mechanical hands up and down my back. I snapped back to reality when the tech started to put the flip flops on my feet. This is usually the "All done!" signal. I thought he had forgotten about the snowflakes I wanted. I was preparing to just forget about the whole thing and retreat over to the polish dryer but then it dawned on me that he was stalling. He just wasn't quite sure what to do about my snowflake request.
He walked over to the row of ladies diligently working on manicures and spoke to them. I couldn't understand a word he was saying, but his vocal track was permeated every few seconds with "snowflake" and "big toe". From my massaging chair I glanced outside at the snow coming down and thought "Really? Just go outside and look at one of the car hoods, that should get you started". But I kept quiet, still a little drunk from the pampering.
I saw one of the ladies gesture and draw a virtual snowflake in the air with her finger to get him started. He chewed on that for a second and came back to work. I wanted to tell him he could pretty much do white polka dots at this point and I would be happy. I'm not that hard to please. It's not like my snowflake-speckled toes are going to be on display at the local art museum. And I hate to cause someone such unwarranted angst. So I glanced around the shop and watched the TV on the wall so as not to stare at him and add on any pressure.
Shortly one of the coworkers came over to investigate. I recognized her, she did a beautiful hibiscus flower on each of my toes during the summer. I decided she must be the designated nail artist of the shop. She stood over him with her hands on her hips and watched for a few seconds. I looked down to see what had been done so far. Bless his heart, he had really tried. But what he had produced on my big toes looked more like little tiny white stars and not much like snowflakes. She started quacking away in her language and I did not need an interpreter to figure out that she basically said "MOVE! That looks like crap! Let me do it!" He rolled his chair away in defeat and by this point I am starting to feel like the demanding customer who caused a big hoopla for asking for snowflake artwork on her toes. She even barked over at him "Why you put shoes on?" gesturing at my flip flops. I was starting to feel really bad about asking for nail art.
The shop artist dipped cotton into polish remover and instantly wiped away all his hard work. She was starting with a blank slate. She reapplied the red polish and apparently she didn't like the way he'd done that either because she made some comments to him as she worked. Then she got out her white nail art paint and went to work on the snowflake. First, she drew a line. Apparently that line wasn't perfectly straight because she chastised herself, gasped, and reached for the polish remover as I was objecting "What? That line was fine! What's wrong with the line???" but she was having no part of it. Again she removed the polish and started all over.
After she was got the white lines drawn to her satisfaction, she pulled out some green paint. Now I am really concerned. I'm thinking "Green? Should I tell them I said 'snowflake', not 'Christmas tree'?" but I'd decided I'd done enough damage and should sit quietly. I went back to staring at the TV on the wall. I'm not sure what she did with that green paint, or the next two paints she brought out, but a few minutes later when she said "See?" and I looked down, I had 2 of the prettiest, most realistic, glittery snowflakes delicately and intricately perched atop my two big toes. She did a fabulous job. The other workers came over to see and admire. I looked back over at the guy who started on me first and smiled; I didn't want him to feel like a total failure. It's just nails and paint, who cares.
I guess I should wear some peep toe shoes for a few days after all that work.
All things Olive today:
Snow!
Letting others feel the baby kicking
Starbucks Peppermint Mocha (decaf)
Anyway, my special treat for myself was to venture out to the pedicure shop. Now, I used to hate pedicures. My feet are very ticklish and I have a hard time not jumping every time the technician touches them. And I am scared of all those tools they have and what they might be used for and who they were last used on. But this shop is different, I haven't come across any scary tools and the jumpiness is kept to a minimum. Plus, the price is right.
I walked into the shop and picked out a cheerful red polish, just right for Christmas. The person who came over to greet me and take me to the chair for my pedi is the only man that works in the shop. I like him, he's chatty and nice and does a good job. As I handed him the red polish, I glanced out the window at all the pretty snow falling and asked, "Can you paint a snowflake on my toes, too?" Now, this is one of those nail salons in which all the workers are of Asian heritage and there is a lot of chatter in their first language as well as small talk with their clients. Everyone was busily working away, but when I asked this question, each worker stopped filing, buffing, or polishing and looked over our way. He paused for a moment, cut his eyes over to some of the other workers and then looked back at me-- "A snowflake? Just big toe, right? Um, yeah, we can do snowflake".
Hmmm, that was odd, but who cares, I was really just there for the massaging back chair, the foot rub, and to have someone else put some color on my toes because with this big belly in the way, there's no way I am expending that much energy.
The next half hour or so went along as expected: soak in the water, buff the feet, apply lotion, file the nails, paint the pretty red polish, wait for that to dry. I happily sat in a daze while the massaging chair rolled its mechanical hands up and down my back. I snapped back to reality when the tech started to put the flip flops on my feet. This is usually the "All done!" signal. I thought he had forgotten about the snowflakes I wanted. I was preparing to just forget about the whole thing and retreat over to the polish dryer but then it dawned on me that he was stalling. He just wasn't quite sure what to do about my snowflake request.
He walked over to the row of ladies diligently working on manicures and spoke to them. I couldn't understand a word he was saying, but his vocal track was permeated every few seconds with "snowflake" and "big toe". From my massaging chair I glanced outside at the snow coming down and thought "Really? Just go outside and look at one of the car hoods, that should get you started". But I kept quiet, still a little drunk from the pampering.
I saw one of the ladies gesture and draw a virtual snowflake in the air with her finger to get him started. He chewed on that for a second and came back to work. I wanted to tell him he could pretty much do white polka dots at this point and I would be happy. I'm not that hard to please. It's not like my snowflake-speckled toes are going to be on display at the local art museum. And I hate to cause someone such unwarranted angst. So I glanced around the shop and watched the TV on the wall so as not to stare at him and add on any pressure.
Shortly one of the coworkers came over to investigate. I recognized her, she did a beautiful hibiscus flower on each of my toes during the summer. I decided she must be the designated nail artist of the shop. She stood over him with her hands on her hips and watched for a few seconds. I looked down to see what had been done so far. Bless his heart, he had really tried. But what he had produced on my big toes looked more like little tiny white stars and not much like snowflakes. She started quacking away in her language and I did not need an interpreter to figure out that she basically said "MOVE! That looks like crap! Let me do it!" He rolled his chair away in defeat and by this point I am starting to feel like the demanding customer who caused a big hoopla for asking for snowflake artwork on her toes. She even barked over at him "Why you put shoes on?" gesturing at my flip flops. I was starting to feel really bad about asking for nail art.
The shop artist dipped cotton into polish remover and instantly wiped away all his hard work. She was starting with a blank slate. She reapplied the red polish and apparently she didn't like the way he'd done that either because she made some comments to him as she worked. Then she got out her white nail art paint and went to work on the snowflake. First, she drew a line. Apparently that line wasn't perfectly straight because she chastised herself, gasped, and reached for the polish remover as I was objecting "What? That line was fine! What's wrong with the line???" but she was having no part of it. Again she removed the polish and started all over.
After she was got the white lines drawn to her satisfaction, she pulled out some green paint. Now I am really concerned. I'm thinking "Green? Should I tell them I said 'snowflake', not 'Christmas tree'?" but I'd decided I'd done enough damage and should sit quietly. I went back to staring at the TV on the wall. I'm not sure what she did with that green paint, or the next two paints she brought out, but a few minutes later when she said "See?" and I looked down, I had 2 of the prettiest, most realistic, glittery snowflakes delicately and intricately perched atop my two big toes. She did a fabulous job. The other workers came over to see and admire. I looked back over at the guy who started on me first and smiled; I didn't want him to feel like a total failure. It's just nails and paint, who cares.
I guess I should wear some peep toe shoes for a few days after all that work.
All things Olive today:
Snow!
Letting others feel the baby kicking
Starbucks Peppermint Mocha (decaf)
Monday, November 15, 2010
MEEP! MEEP!
So, today I'm going to spend a little time giving my thoughts on bad drivers. Yep, you know the ones, everybody on the road but you. We all like to think we are the perfect driver who obeys all the rules and never offends any other driver while all the other numbskulls behind the wheel are the problem. Or I do, at least. Here are some of my worst pet peeves:
The Multi-Taskers-- These are the people who believe that any point in time in which their car has come to a full stop is a good time to get something done-- namely, picking up their phone and checking for texts/emails. (I won't even go into the drivers who text and drive-- you already know that is bad, so I won't cover that here). No, I am focusing on my fellow roadmates who get so engrossed in their few minutes of worktime to put on makeup, dig for the french fry that fell on the floor, check their phone, or turn around and yell at their kids in the backseat, that they fail to see the light has now turned green and approximately 48 cars have already gone before them and they are still sitting immobile. If you do this in front of me, prepare for my car to yell at you. And my car has a really annoying yell- it has a high pitched MEEP MEEP! sound that will no doubt make you want to flash me an obsene gesture. But I don't care, you aren't paying attention. MEEP.
Please Let Me In -- Ok, you know when there's construction and the two lane road you're driving on has to become a one laner? Well, they give plenty of warning, usually, for you to make that merge over into the consolidated lane. Why is it there are always a few people who go cruising at full speed riiiiiiiight up to the very last 10 feet of merge space then want you to let them in? Chances are you merged way back at the first warning sign and have been inching along in the construction traffic for a good mile and a quarter when this little young thing in a convertible wants to bat doe eyes at you and plead for you to let her in. No way, sweetie, I am not letting you in. I will close in on the bumper in front of me so tight a Matchbox car couldn't get in there. Sorry, don't procrastinate next time. Maybe the old guy behind me will think you're cute and let you in.
You're not driving a tractor-trailer-- I can't stand this quirky, yet odd habit. I don't know if everybody notices it like I do, but this is where a driver is turning right or left and, for reasons unknown to me, they "swing wide" before making the turn. What the? If you happen to be beside someone when they do this, it makes your reflexes kick in, prompting you to jerk your steering wheel in the same direction so they don't bump you. What's with these people? If you're making a right turn, there is no reason to swing your car to the left just prior to making that turn! You're not driving a semi-truck! And you're not trying to whip a Suburban into a compact parking spot- you're turning onto a street! Argh. You get 2 MEEPs, just a reflex response, not intentional.
It's my turn, not yours! -- This scenario occurs when me and another car are both stopped at opposite stop signs waiting to turn onto a highway in which the oncoming traffic does not stop. What gets sticky is when I am turning left and the guy across from me is turning right onto the same highway, or coming straight across it. If I got to my stop sign first-- I will be going first once traffic is clear. Yes, that's right, even if I am turning LEFT, it is my turn (in my rule book, at least). So don't honk at me when I go ahead and go. You should just read my rule book. (btw, I looked this up in the Indiana BMV manual and couldn't find it. And Google shows that lots of people disagree on this rule of the road...)
The demise of the yellow light-- When did the yellow light become so disrespected? Nobody pays any attention to the yellow light anymore. More and more I see people who believe there are only two traffic signals->
Red= stop, and Green/Yellow= Go like hell.
I hate the people that just keep on trucking through the yellow light even though they are wayyyyyy away from it when it turned yellow. Did you know you are only supposed to proceed through the yellow light IF you are ahead of the white intersection line when it turns? It doesn't mean "hit it Bertha, before we get stopped on red!" This habit is particularly annoying when I am the poor soul waiting out in the intersection to turn left but can't because of all the people coming on through until that light is good and RED. MEEP.
Exiting the interstate- quite easily actually-- Good news, drivers! It turns out those guys in orange jackets actually build those exit ramps long enough to give you plenty of time to slow down when leaving the interstate! So you don't need to start slowing down 1/2 mile before your exit, ok? Same for when you enter the interstate-- use that onramp to get up speed, honey! Slowing down and hoping somebody lets you in without mowing you over is probably not working in your favor...
And this just beats them all-- if you do this, you should stop it now. It is the worst of all driving offenses. Yes, this is the person behind me when I'm in the fast lane on the interstate who.... you know what it is----> flashes their headlights at me. Major road foul.
Now, I am not a slow driver. I go just enough over the posted speed limit to bore a cop, but enough that I make good time getting on down the highway. When I am in the fast lane, it is because I am passing someone. If you are behind me and decide that I am not passing that person fast enough, flashing your headlights at me will only serve in motivating me to turn off my cruise control and match the speed of the person who I am passing. Yes, that's right, I will slow down. And I hope you get pulled over after you go roaring past me in the right lane and there's a trooper just ahead just looking for someone to nab.
MEEP.
All things Olive today:
Apple Cider Tea
My dogs cuddling with me on the couch
Karma
The Multi-Taskers-- These are the people who believe that any point in time in which their car has come to a full stop is a good time to get something done-- namely, picking up their phone and checking for texts/emails. (I won't even go into the drivers who text and drive-- you already know that is bad, so I won't cover that here). No, I am focusing on my fellow roadmates who get so engrossed in their few minutes of worktime to put on makeup, dig for the french fry that fell on the floor, check their phone, or turn around and yell at their kids in the backseat, that they fail to see the light has now turned green and approximately 48 cars have already gone before them and they are still sitting immobile. If you do this in front of me, prepare for my car to yell at you. And my car has a really annoying yell- it has a high pitched MEEP MEEP! sound that will no doubt make you want to flash me an obsene gesture. But I don't care, you aren't paying attention. MEEP.
Please Let Me In -- Ok, you know when there's construction and the two lane road you're driving on has to become a one laner? Well, they give plenty of warning, usually, for you to make that merge over into the consolidated lane. Why is it there are always a few people who go cruising at full speed riiiiiiiight up to the very last 10 feet of merge space then want you to let them in? Chances are you merged way back at the first warning sign and have been inching along in the construction traffic for a good mile and a quarter when this little young thing in a convertible wants to bat doe eyes at you and plead for you to let her in. No way, sweetie, I am not letting you in. I will close in on the bumper in front of me so tight a Matchbox car couldn't get in there. Sorry, don't procrastinate next time. Maybe the old guy behind me will think you're cute and let you in.
You're not driving a tractor-trailer-- I can't stand this quirky, yet odd habit. I don't know if everybody notices it like I do, but this is where a driver is turning right or left and, for reasons unknown to me, they "swing wide" before making the turn. What the? If you happen to be beside someone when they do this, it makes your reflexes kick in, prompting you to jerk your steering wheel in the same direction so they don't bump you. What's with these people? If you're making a right turn, there is no reason to swing your car to the left just prior to making that turn! You're not driving a semi-truck! And you're not trying to whip a Suburban into a compact parking spot- you're turning onto a street! Argh. You get 2 MEEPs, just a reflex response, not intentional.
It's my turn, not yours! -- This scenario occurs when me and another car are both stopped at opposite stop signs waiting to turn onto a highway in which the oncoming traffic does not stop. What gets sticky is when I am turning left and the guy across from me is turning right onto the same highway, or coming straight across it. If I got to my stop sign first-- I will be going first once traffic is clear. Yes, that's right, even if I am turning LEFT, it is my turn (in my rule book, at least). So don't honk at me when I go ahead and go. You should just read my rule book. (btw, I looked this up in the Indiana BMV manual and couldn't find it. And Google shows that lots of people disagree on this rule of the road...)
The demise of the yellow light-- When did the yellow light become so disrespected? Nobody pays any attention to the yellow light anymore. More and more I see people who believe there are only two traffic signals->
Red= stop, and Green/Yellow= Go like hell.
I hate the people that just keep on trucking through the yellow light even though they are wayyyyyy away from it when it turned yellow. Did you know you are only supposed to proceed through the yellow light IF you are ahead of the white intersection line when it turns? It doesn't mean "hit it Bertha, before we get stopped on red!" This habit is particularly annoying when I am the poor soul waiting out in the intersection to turn left but can't because of all the people coming on through until that light is good and RED. MEEP.
Exiting the interstate- quite easily actually-- Good news, drivers! It turns out those guys in orange jackets actually build those exit ramps long enough to give you plenty of time to slow down when leaving the interstate! So you don't need to start slowing down 1/2 mile before your exit, ok? Same for when you enter the interstate-- use that onramp to get up speed, honey! Slowing down and hoping somebody lets you in without mowing you over is probably not working in your favor...
And this just beats them all-- if you do this, you should stop it now. It is the worst of all driving offenses. Yes, this is the person behind me when I'm in the fast lane on the interstate who.... you know what it is----> flashes their headlights at me. Major road foul.
Now, I am not a slow driver. I go just enough over the posted speed limit to bore a cop, but enough that I make good time getting on down the highway. When I am in the fast lane, it is because I am passing someone. If you are behind me and decide that I am not passing that person fast enough, flashing your headlights at me will only serve in motivating me to turn off my cruise control and match the speed of the person who I am passing. Yes, that's right, I will slow down. And I hope you get pulled over after you go roaring past me in the right lane and there's a trooper just ahead just looking for someone to nab.
MEEP.
All things Olive today:
Apple Cider Tea
My dogs cuddling with me on the couch
Karma
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Dear Baby...
Someone prayed for you today. We were at a team lunch celebrating other things and my boss said a prayer for you, me, and Daddy, as well as my coworker who is also expecting her first child. It was such a sweet moment, it made me tear up. Since I found out I was carrying you, so many people have said so many kind, warm, and thoughtful things to us. We're very blessed to be surrounded by great people. I can't wait for you to meet them.
You've been pretty active today, baby. I can feel you moving around just under my belly button, then over to the side, and back to center again. It feels like bubbles or pebbles rolling around in there. I wonder what you're up to. Are you making a nest? You usually start moving around a little while after I wake up and start getting ready for work. I think you like going to work with me because every meeting that I sit in usually results in you doing flips and twists in there while I am holding back a smile and trying to pay attention. Right now I am worried that this computer sitting on my lap is too warm for you.... let me grab a pillow.
I can't believe we're halfway through the pregnancy journey already. We had a rocky, scary start, but the rest has been such an amazing experience. I've been followed by very good doctors and they make sure everything is o.k. I've had more than my fair share of ultrasounds, but I've loved seeing you with every single one. Each time we get to see you, you're a little bigger, a little more active, and looking more and more like you're ready to come see the world. But you just stay in there for a few more months, ok?
Your Daddy's getting more and more excited to meet you. His favorite song right now is called "Anything Like Me" by Brad Paisley. I'll have to print a copy of the lyrics and save them for you. Your dad wishes I would stop listening to talk radio in the car and listen to acoustic coffee-shop soft rock on the satellite radio. He thinks it would be good for you to hear that kind of music. I'm afraid I'd probably fall asleep listening to that. I am pretty sure you like X103 better anyway.
Speaking of coffee shops, Starbucks' decaf pumpkin spice latte is pretty much on my mind all the time right now. Yum! I am also looking forward to the peppermint mocha that they always have in the holiday season. And I've been on a mulled apple cider kick. I hope you're enjoying these different flavors.
So far pregnancy has been fascinating. Besides the expected food aversions and nausea, I first noticed my nails and hair grew like crazy from the vitamins. Then I got several aches and pains that came and went. And as my belly has grown, I've gotten more cautious. You're in there all safe and sound and I want to make sure you stay that way. I drive a little slower, hold on to the handrails on the stairs, my fabulous high heeled shoes have all been put away, and I look both ways 18 times before crossing the street.
We've tossed around a lot of names for you, baby. We come up with a few and let them roll around in our heads and see how they sound out loud a few times before deciding whether or not it's a keeper. Grandma picked "Oliver" for you, which I loved because we all know how much I love Olives! But it was a definite "no" from Dad. We've got one for you now, I want to keep it with me for a while though.
The house is going through a big transformation. Since we didn't know if we'd ever be parents, we piled up all of our extra space around the house with our junk. Now we have to sort through all that to make room for you. I am quite shocked and embarrassed of all the stuff we've kept over the years.... It's been work but it's fun too to find old things we forgot about and deciding what to keep and what to donate or get rid of.
One of our friends bought you a pair of camouflage pants because your Daddy's been hunting a lot already this year and she wanted you to have your first pair early. Well I left them laying out hoping to take them up to your room on one of my trips upstairs and our little dog Cami got ahold of them while we were gone from the house. We came home to find little shreds of camouflage around the house. I guess she doesn't like camouflage....
So that's where we are now, baby. I'm working and going to school and making sure I get plenty of rest and quiet time to put my feet up and relax with you. I love you with all my heart. So does Daddy.
All things Olive today:
The baby catalogs and coupons we're getting in the mail
Fruit- I can't get enough fruit lately
Finding old things and taking trips down memory lane
You've been pretty active today, baby. I can feel you moving around just under my belly button, then over to the side, and back to center again. It feels like bubbles or pebbles rolling around in there. I wonder what you're up to. Are you making a nest? You usually start moving around a little while after I wake up and start getting ready for work. I think you like going to work with me because every meeting that I sit in usually results in you doing flips and twists in there while I am holding back a smile and trying to pay attention. Right now I am worried that this computer sitting on my lap is too warm for you.... let me grab a pillow.
I can't believe we're halfway through the pregnancy journey already. We had a rocky, scary start, but the rest has been such an amazing experience. I've been followed by very good doctors and they make sure everything is o.k. I've had more than my fair share of ultrasounds, but I've loved seeing you with every single one. Each time we get to see you, you're a little bigger, a little more active, and looking more and more like you're ready to come see the world. But you just stay in there for a few more months, ok?
Your Daddy's getting more and more excited to meet you. His favorite song right now is called "Anything Like Me" by Brad Paisley. I'll have to print a copy of the lyrics and save them for you. Your dad wishes I would stop listening to talk radio in the car and listen to acoustic coffee-shop soft rock on the satellite radio. He thinks it would be good for you to hear that kind of music. I'm afraid I'd probably fall asleep listening to that. I am pretty sure you like X103 better anyway.
Speaking of coffee shops, Starbucks' decaf pumpkin spice latte is pretty much on my mind all the time right now. Yum! I am also looking forward to the peppermint mocha that they always have in the holiday season. And I've been on a mulled apple cider kick. I hope you're enjoying these different flavors.
So far pregnancy has been fascinating. Besides the expected food aversions and nausea, I first noticed my nails and hair grew like crazy from the vitamins. Then I got several aches and pains that came and went. And as my belly has grown, I've gotten more cautious. You're in there all safe and sound and I want to make sure you stay that way. I drive a little slower, hold on to the handrails on the stairs, my fabulous high heeled shoes have all been put away, and I look both ways 18 times before crossing the street.
We've tossed around a lot of names for you, baby. We come up with a few and let them roll around in our heads and see how they sound out loud a few times before deciding whether or not it's a keeper. Grandma picked "Oliver" for you, which I loved because we all know how much I love Olives! But it was a definite "no" from Dad. We've got one for you now, I want to keep it with me for a while though.
The house is going through a big transformation. Since we didn't know if we'd ever be parents, we piled up all of our extra space around the house with our junk. Now we have to sort through all that to make room for you. I am quite shocked and embarrassed of all the stuff we've kept over the years.... It's been work but it's fun too to find old things we forgot about and deciding what to keep and what to donate or get rid of.
One of our friends bought you a pair of camouflage pants because your Daddy's been hunting a lot already this year and she wanted you to have your first pair early. Well I left them laying out hoping to take them up to your room on one of my trips upstairs and our little dog Cami got ahold of them while we were gone from the house. We came home to find little shreds of camouflage around the house. I guess she doesn't like camouflage....
So that's where we are now, baby. I'm working and going to school and making sure I get plenty of rest and quiet time to put my feet up and relax with you. I love you with all my heart. So does Daddy.
All things Olive today:
The baby catalogs and coupons we're getting in the mail
Fruit- I can't get enough fruit lately
Finding old things and taking trips down memory lane
Monday, October 11, 2010
The Most Wonderful Time of the Year!
Ahhhhh, another Columbus Day has come and gone. I'm sitting here curled up with a mug of hot cider reminiscing about the day's events. I just finished taking down all the decorations. Hubby is just finishing putting the inflatable Nina, Pinta, and Santa Maria ships away in the attic. They looked so cute on the front lawn this year.
The family all arrived just before noon. We sat around the fire and sang some of our favorite Columbus Day carols. The kids all enjoyed a wacky couple of rounds of Pin the Americas on the map. Soon enough it was dinner time.
We ate until we were stuffed and then everyone got into costume for the Columbus Day pageant! Grandpa and Grandma played the roles of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella and they sat regally on the couch in the living room as my little nephew, playing Christopher Columbus himself, asked for permission to sail the ocean blue.
The little girl cousins all played the roles of wives bidding their husbands bon voyage, and all the boy cousins dressed up as seamen. Away across the kitchen they went, braving the deep blue seas of the oceans to the far away New World.
My aunts and uncles were waiting in the den; they were dressed as natives. My cousin "Columbus" strode from the kitchen tile onto the carpet of the den and proclaimed it to be the New World. My Labrador Retriever peed on the carpet for good measure. The seamen all coughed and hacked with make believe scurvy and small pox. And the natives shivered and shook and retreated to the back porch. The pageant ended in much fanfare with the success of Columbus' voyage.
Soon after it was time for everyone to gather their presents and journey back home. I'm smiling with the fond memories of another family gathering. So proud to be an American.
All things Olive today:
Being a smart aleck
The drama over Christine O'Donnell
Honeycrisp apples
The family all arrived just before noon. We sat around the fire and sang some of our favorite Columbus Day carols. The kids all enjoyed a wacky couple of rounds of Pin the Americas on the map. Soon enough it was dinner time.
We ate until we were stuffed and then everyone got into costume for the Columbus Day pageant! Grandpa and Grandma played the roles of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella and they sat regally on the couch in the living room as my little nephew, playing Christopher Columbus himself, asked for permission to sail the ocean blue.
The little girl cousins all played the roles of wives bidding their husbands bon voyage, and all the boy cousins dressed up as seamen. Away across the kitchen they went, braving the deep blue seas of the oceans to the far away New World.
My aunts and uncles were waiting in the den; they were dressed as natives. My cousin "Columbus" strode from the kitchen tile onto the carpet of the den and proclaimed it to be the New World. My Labrador Retriever peed on the carpet for good measure. The seamen all coughed and hacked with make believe scurvy and small pox. And the natives shivered and shook and retreated to the back porch. The pageant ended in much fanfare with the success of Columbus' voyage.
Soon after it was time for everyone to gather their presents and journey back home. I'm smiling with the fond memories of another family gathering. So proud to be an American.
All things Olive today:
Being a smart aleck
The drama over Christine O'Donnell
Honeycrisp apples
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Wow, so much yet so little to talk about! Hmmm... where to start...
So the effort to repeal DADT has stalled. That really stinks. To the brave men and women out there: keep up the good fight. And I don't mean the one in the Middle East.
My Labrador turned 11. Oh my heart. 11 years old! I can still remember holding him as a puppy and wishing he would stop chewing up my hands with those razor sharp teeth! He is such a good dog. I hope I get 11 more years with him.
Fall weather has finally arrived. Woo hoo! Now I can put away the summer clothes that were getting to tight to squeeze my pregnant body into. Maternity clothes are expensive. I mean, really, they know you are only going to wear them for a short amount of time- why not make simple, basic staples at a rock bottom price and sell a ton of 'em? Oh wait, that's exactly what the Old Navy maternity section is. Love it!
Another gunman on a college campus. As a student, this terrifies me. Why does this continue to happen? I wish-- are you listening media?-- I wish that when someone goes berserk like this that the media would completely refrain from releasing the gunman's name or any information about him/her whatsoever. This would not be hard. Sexual assault victims and minors' names are not released. Make this a new practice. Giving them any attention at all fuels the fire in the belly of the next potential crazy fool who is contemplating doing the same thing. And quite frankly, I am ashamed that I can tell you after all these years that the shooters' names in the Columbine tragedy were Dylan and Eric--- but I can't tell you a single victim's name. (No, I did not Google that, I remember it). That's not right. And the Virginia Tech student was an Asian young man whose name I don't remember but I can picture his face-- I can't picture any of his victims. My point is, stop giving the attention to the maniacs. It's what they want. It gives them notoriety. Enough. If I have any connected friends out there- go lobby this on Washington.
Anyway.... I'll cut it short here.
All things Olive today:
My right to VOTE
Ultrasounds
Bonfires
So the effort to repeal DADT has stalled. That really stinks. To the brave men and women out there: keep up the good fight. And I don't mean the one in the Middle East.
My Labrador turned 11. Oh my heart. 11 years old! I can still remember holding him as a puppy and wishing he would stop chewing up my hands with those razor sharp teeth! He is such a good dog. I hope I get 11 more years with him.
Fall weather has finally arrived. Woo hoo! Now I can put away the summer clothes that were getting to tight to squeeze my pregnant body into. Maternity clothes are expensive. I mean, really, they know you are only going to wear them for a short amount of time- why not make simple, basic staples at a rock bottom price and sell a ton of 'em? Oh wait, that's exactly what the Old Navy maternity section is. Love it!
Another gunman on a college campus. As a student, this terrifies me. Why does this continue to happen? I wish-- are you listening media?-- I wish that when someone goes berserk like this that the media would completely refrain from releasing the gunman's name or any information about him/her whatsoever. This would not be hard. Sexual assault victims and minors' names are not released. Make this a new practice. Giving them any attention at all fuels the fire in the belly of the next potential crazy fool who is contemplating doing the same thing. And quite frankly, I am ashamed that I can tell you after all these years that the shooters' names in the Columbine tragedy were Dylan and Eric--- but I can't tell you a single victim's name. (No, I did not Google that, I remember it). That's not right. And the Virginia Tech student was an Asian young man whose name I don't remember but I can picture his face-- I can't picture any of his victims. My point is, stop giving the attention to the maniacs. It's what they want. It gives them notoriety. Enough. If I have any connected friends out there- go lobby this on Washington.
Anyway.... I'll cut it short here.
All things Olive today:
My right to VOTE
Ultrasounds
Bonfires
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
I'll Show Him!
Not much to blog about lately so I thought I'd take the time to tell you all about one of the most embarrassing things I have ever done. It still makes me shake my head after all this time, and hopefully it will give you a chuckle.
So, my Labrador Retriever, Copper, was only a few years old and we were living in our first house which was on one of those "zero lots" which means you own a house but really have no yard at all to speak of. I noticed that Copper spent a lot of time sniffing around the (small) backyard digging his nose deep into the grass and then chewing something. He would do this for hours. We also had a pond in the neighborhood that I would take him to for swimming and chasing ducks. He did the same sniff, sniff, sniff, stop- chew chew chew down by the pond. To my dismay I came to realize that my dog was one of those-- my dog liked to eat "rabbit and duck crunchies".... oh the shame... oh the horror. No matter how many times I said "No! Stop that!" it was no use... he couldn't resist the temptation.
One day I was thumbing through the Drs Foster and Smith pet catalog looking for some toys or treats to buy Copper and I found what I thought was the answer to my prayers. In the catalog, they sell a product called DisTaste. The ad even had a picture of a chocolate Lab in it, just like my Copper! The description read:
"Stops the disturbing behavior of stool eating. Makes stool taste terrible!"
One pill per day, and my dog will stop eating rabbit and duck crunchies??? I immediately ordered it. When it arrived, I gleefully started my daily ritual of poking these wonder pills down his throat in hopes he would stop shaming the family with his unfortunate habit. Problem solved! Yay me, wonder mom!
A month of so after I got the pills, Copper was due for a vet appointment. We go to a clinic with several doctors, but there are 2 there that usually see my dogs. One vet is a very kind, warm, thorough doctor who gets right down on the floor with Copper and spends as much time giving praise and love as she does examining him. The other is an equally thorough doctor, but lacks the warm fuzzies that the other vet has. He tends to be more stern and almost smug in his demeanor. He once scolded me so badly for giving Copper Tylenol after he hurt his paw that I had pretty much convinced myself I should drive straight to Child Protective Services after leaving the vet and turn myself in for child abuse. It seemed the more times I was around this vet, the more time I spent trying to make sure he knew what a smart, caring, perfect dog owner I am.
Anyway, on the day of this routine appointment, we just happened to get stuck with the smug doctor. Oh well, it was just a check up, nothing should come up to get scolded about. Or so I thought. Dr. Smug was running through Copper's chart and giving him the once over. He walked back behind the examination table and picked up Copper's chart. He began to run down the list and ask me all the usual questions: "What kind of food do you feed him? How much? Potty habits ok? Exercising a lot?" and so on.
Dr. Smug remarked that Copper could stand to lose a few pounds. I said, "Yeah, he is hungry all the time. No matter how much food or treats we give him, he is always ready to eat." And then, in my nervous ambition to prove I am a good dog mother, I said "He is even hungry enough to eat rabbit and duck crunchies, but I've got that fixed". I said this last part with extra pride.
Dr. Smug peered at me over his glasses, "Oh?"
"Yep," I replied, "I found these pills in a catalog called DisTaste! They make stool taste really bad so Copper won't eat it anymore."
Dr. Smug paused. There was silence in the room. Dr. Smug was perplexed. He looked at me squarely and asked:
"How'd you get the rabbits to take those pills?"
I stared back at him. What on Earth? I cocked my head, raised one eyebrow, let out a nervous giggle and said, "W-what?"
I had clearly worn out Dr. Smug's patience. He put the chart down, took off his glasses, and calmly explained to my ever well-meaning brain: "Those pills are for dogs that eat their OWN stool. You have to give it to the animal whose stool is being eaten."
I felt the blood rush up through my neck and my cheeks felt hot as coals. Mercifully he spared me any further embarrassment by quickly picking the chart back and up and going on down his list of questions. I answered them as best I could while literally sitting on my hands to keep from smacking myself upside the head. How did I not know this??? I have been poking pills down my poor dog's throat thinking it would make the rabbit crunchies taste bad??? And I thought they were working?
We finished the rest of the appointment, paid the bill, went to the car and loaded up. I scratched Copper's ears and told him what a good boy he is. I had a mental picture of what Dr. Smug must have thought: of me going into the backyard every morning while the little rabbit family patiently waited for me to give them the their morning doses of DisTaste. And throwing them in the pond for all the duckies to eat like a modern day Snow White.
Then I drove out of the parking lot and laughed all the way home.
All things Olive today:
Roadtrips with my dogs
Words with Friends
Autumn
So, my Labrador Retriever, Copper, was only a few years old and we were living in our first house which was on one of those "zero lots" which means you own a house but really have no yard at all to speak of. I noticed that Copper spent a lot of time sniffing around the (small) backyard digging his nose deep into the grass and then chewing something. He would do this for hours. We also had a pond in the neighborhood that I would take him to for swimming and chasing ducks. He did the same sniff, sniff, sniff, stop- chew chew chew down by the pond. To my dismay I came to realize that my dog was one of those-- my dog liked to eat "rabbit and duck crunchies".... oh the shame... oh the horror. No matter how many times I said "No! Stop that!" it was no use... he couldn't resist the temptation.
One day I was thumbing through the Drs Foster and Smith pet catalog looking for some toys or treats to buy Copper and I found what I thought was the answer to my prayers. In the catalog, they sell a product called DisTaste. The ad even had a picture of a chocolate Lab in it, just like my Copper! The description read:
"Stops the disturbing behavior of stool eating. Makes stool taste terrible!"
One pill per day, and my dog will stop eating rabbit and duck crunchies??? I immediately ordered it. When it arrived, I gleefully started my daily ritual of poking these wonder pills down his throat in hopes he would stop shaming the family with his unfortunate habit. Problem solved! Yay me, wonder mom!
A month of so after I got the pills, Copper was due for a vet appointment. We go to a clinic with several doctors, but there are 2 there that usually see my dogs. One vet is a very kind, warm, thorough doctor who gets right down on the floor with Copper and spends as much time giving praise and love as she does examining him. The other is an equally thorough doctor, but lacks the warm fuzzies that the other vet has. He tends to be more stern and almost smug in his demeanor. He once scolded me so badly for giving Copper Tylenol after he hurt his paw that I had pretty much convinced myself I should drive straight to Child Protective Services after leaving the vet and turn myself in for child abuse. It seemed the more times I was around this vet, the more time I spent trying to make sure he knew what a smart, caring, perfect dog owner I am.
Anyway, on the day of this routine appointment, we just happened to get stuck with the smug doctor. Oh well, it was just a check up, nothing should come up to get scolded about. Or so I thought. Dr. Smug was running through Copper's chart and giving him the once over. He walked back behind the examination table and picked up Copper's chart. He began to run down the list and ask me all the usual questions: "What kind of food do you feed him? How much? Potty habits ok? Exercising a lot?" and so on.
Dr. Smug remarked that Copper could stand to lose a few pounds. I said, "Yeah, he is hungry all the time. No matter how much food or treats we give him, he is always ready to eat." And then, in my nervous ambition to prove I am a good dog mother, I said "He is even hungry enough to eat rabbit and duck crunchies, but I've got that fixed". I said this last part with extra pride.
Dr. Smug peered at me over his glasses, "Oh?"
"Yep," I replied, "I found these pills in a catalog called DisTaste! They make stool taste really bad so Copper won't eat it anymore."
Dr. Smug paused. There was silence in the room. Dr. Smug was perplexed. He looked at me squarely and asked:
"How'd you get the rabbits to take those pills?"
I stared back at him. What on Earth? I cocked my head, raised one eyebrow, let out a nervous giggle and said, "W-what?"
I had clearly worn out Dr. Smug's patience. He put the chart down, took off his glasses, and calmly explained to my ever well-meaning brain: "Those pills are for dogs that eat their OWN stool. You have to give it to the animal whose stool is being eaten."
I felt the blood rush up through my neck and my cheeks felt hot as coals. Mercifully he spared me any further embarrassment by quickly picking the chart back and up and going on down his list of questions. I answered them as best I could while literally sitting on my hands to keep from smacking myself upside the head. How did I not know this??? I have been poking pills down my poor dog's throat thinking it would make the rabbit crunchies taste bad??? And I thought they were working?
We finished the rest of the appointment, paid the bill, went to the car and loaded up. I scratched Copper's ears and told him what a good boy he is. I had a mental picture of what Dr. Smug must have thought: of me going into the backyard every morning while the little rabbit family patiently waited for me to give them the their morning doses of DisTaste. And throwing them in the pond for all the duckies to eat like a modern day Snow White.
Then I drove out of the parking lot and laughed all the way home.
All things Olive today:
Roadtrips with my dogs
Words with Friends
Autumn
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Nice to meet you!... or, not so much...
Yesterday I had to travel for work so I was in my car for a good part of the day. When I got out of range of all my pre-programmed radio stations, I started scanning for something to listen to. Eventually I happened upon good old Rush Limbaugh and actually stopped for a spell to see what rubbish he was spewing today. Within one minute he proclaimed: "Obama is an elitist who thinks he is so smart and knows everything". I said out loud in my car: "Well, hello pot~ have you met kettle?" and the next few minutes down the interstate I wondered to myself: why would anyone want to know Rush Limbaugh? Does he have any friends? He must be the most insufferable person to be around with his constant hate-pinions. It got me to thinking, who would I like to meet in the world, and who would I really not ever care to know?
This isn't like that game where you ask each other "If you could have any 3 people to dinner, who would they be?" and the other person inevitably replies: Jesus, Oprah, and someone else like Brad Pitt or a president or Elvis. No, I started thinking, if I could choose people that I would really like to know and consider a friend of mine, who would they be? And in addition to that-- who would I never ever care to meet or be friends with?
Of course, the number 1 person I cannot wait to meet is my unborn baby. My due date seems ages away. I talk to him/her everyday and am so glad to have one of those home dopplers to listen to the heartbeat. But every day that goes by is one more day closer to getting to meet and hold him/her and I know the day will be here soon enough.
My rules:
For my lists, I only listed living people (even though Princess Diana is way up there on my list), and I was really trying to think of people I would like to be friends with, not just a celebrity or star that I would see at some event and say "Could you sign my tshirt?" just to say I met them. For the "don't care to know list", I left off obvious choices such as murderers and criminals (yeah, that means you too, OJ), or people that the media have crafted into bad guys (Heidi and Spencer, duh). I'm sure as soon as I publish this I'll think of a bunch that I forgot, but these came to mind easily.
People I'd Love to Call My Friend
1. Jon Stewart- smart, funny, what's not to like about this guy?
2. Stephen King- anybody who can write such unimaginable stuff would be a great ally
3. Kathy Griffin's Mom, Maggie- she is one sweet lady and I would buy her a box of wine
4. Rob Dyrdek's bodyguard, Big- not sure why, I just think he would be a great friend
5. Costco CEO Jim Sinegal- Google him, you'll see why
6. Hugh Hefner- say what you will, but anybody who has a library full of hand written, leather bound journals that chronicle his entire life has got to be a pretty neat person
7. Katie Couric- you know once that camera turns off she is a smart alecky, party girl
8. Allie Brosh- read her blog, this girl is hysterical and quirky and I bet every minute around her would be a laugh fest
9. Will Ferrell- I hope he's not one of those tortured artists who uses humor to escape his demons, cause I think he has a huge heart and could keep me entertained for hours
10. Bob Kevoian- I've listened to "Bob and Tom" every morning for the past 14 years, and Bob is the one I most relate to
11. Dave Barry- he is the Everyman
12. Kelly Ripa- funny, honest, and just enough body obsessed that I would watch what I eat around her
13. Michael J. Fox- I loved him before we all knew about his secret battle with Parkinson's, and I loved him even more when he shared it and didn't let it stop him
People I Don't Care to Ever Know
1. The aforementioned Rush Limbaugh
2. Tiger Woods- what an abuse of influence, that guy
3. Bob Knight- love him or hate him, I'll take the latter
4. Kate Gosselin- I can't believe people book her to speak at conferences for women and mothers
5. The Watson's Girl- her voice makes my skin crawl
6. Ann Curry- her interview style makes me question how she has such a high profile journalism job--she is terrible
7. Dr. Phil- loved him in the 90's, not sure what happened to him after that
8. Mike Myers- great movies, hilarious guy, but I have to believe the stories about him that he is impossible to be around
9. Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, and Kim Kardashian- and the rest of that "famous for nothing" genre
10. Laura Bush- I've never heard anything interesting come out of her smoking-wrinkled mouth
Ok, so I could sit here all day and do this. It's kind of fun when you think about it. You're probably thinking: why make a list of people you wouldn't want to meet? You'll probably never meet them anyway. But I guess it's just interesting to put it out in writing and look more at the traits that I like and don't like about these people. It is probably quite relevant to the circle of friends I run with now. I obviously like funny, hard working, honest, loyal people with substance. Write your lists out, see who's on it and who's not.
All things Olive today:
My baby's strong and fast heartbeat
Plums
Seeing my school friends next week!
This isn't like that game where you ask each other "If you could have any 3 people to dinner, who would they be?" and the other person inevitably replies: Jesus, Oprah, and someone else like Brad Pitt or a president or Elvis. No, I started thinking, if I could choose people that I would really like to know and consider a friend of mine, who would they be? And in addition to that-- who would I never ever care to meet or be friends with?
Of course, the number 1 person I cannot wait to meet is my unborn baby. My due date seems ages away. I talk to him/her everyday and am so glad to have one of those home dopplers to listen to the heartbeat. But every day that goes by is one more day closer to getting to meet and hold him/her and I know the day will be here soon enough.
My rules:
For my lists, I only listed living people (even though Princess Diana is way up there on my list), and I was really trying to think of people I would like to be friends with, not just a celebrity or star that I would see at some event and say "Could you sign my tshirt?" just to say I met them. For the "don't care to know list", I left off obvious choices such as murderers and criminals (yeah, that means you too, OJ), or people that the media have crafted into bad guys (Heidi and Spencer, duh). I'm sure as soon as I publish this I'll think of a bunch that I forgot, but these came to mind easily.
People I'd Love to Call My Friend
1. Jon Stewart- smart, funny, what's not to like about this guy?
2. Stephen King- anybody who can write such unimaginable stuff would be a great ally
3. Kathy Griffin's Mom, Maggie- she is one sweet lady and I would buy her a box of wine
4. Rob Dyrdek's bodyguard, Big- not sure why, I just think he would be a great friend
5. Costco CEO Jim Sinegal- Google him, you'll see why
6. Hugh Hefner- say what you will, but anybody who has a library full of hand written, leather bound journals that chronicle his entire life has got to be a pretty neat person
7. Katie Couric- you know once that camera turns off she is a smart alecky, party girl
8. Allie Brosh- read her blog, this girl is hysterical and quirky and I bet every minute around her would be a laugh fest
9. Will Ferrell- I hope he's not one of those tortured artists who uses humor to escape his demons, cause I think he has a huge heart and could keep me entertained for hours
10. Bob Kevoian- I've listened to "Bob and Tom" every morning for the past 14 years, and Bob is the one I most relate to
11. Dave Barry- he is the Everyman
12. Kelly Ripa- funny, honest, and just enough body obsessed that I would watch what I eat around her
13. Michael J. Fox- I loved him before we all knew about his secret battle with Parkinson's, and I loved him even more when he shared it and didn't let it stop him
People I Don't Care to Ever Know
1. The aforementioned Rush Limbaugh
2. Tiger Woods- what an abuse of influence, that guy
3. Bob Knight- love him or hate him, I'll take the latter
4. Kate Gosselin- I can't believe people book her to speak at conferences for women and mothers
5. The Watson's Girl- her voice makes my skin crawl
6. Ann Curry- her interview style makes me question how she has such a high profile journalism job--she is terrible
7. Dr. Phil- loved him in the 90's, not sure what happened to him after that
8. Mike Myers- great movies, hilarious guy, but I have to believe the stories about him that he is impossible to be around
9. Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, and Kim Kardashian- and the rest of that "famous for nothing" genre
10. Laura Bush- I've never heard anything interesting come out of her smoking-wrinkled mouth
Ok, so I could sit here all day and do this. It's kind of fun when you think about it. You're probably thinking: why make a list of people you wouldn't want to meet? You'll probably never meet them anyway. But I guess it's just interesting to put it out in writing and look more at the traits that I like and don't like about these people. It is probably quite relevant to the circle of friends I run with now. I obviously like funny, hard working, honest, loyal people with substance. Write your lists out, see who's on it and who's not.
All things Olive today:
My baby's strong and fast heartbeat
Plums
Seeing my school friends next week!
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
I just want my medication....
As of January 2010, my health insurance stipulates that you have to get your medications filled at one of the company owned pharmacies at work or pay a higher copayment for going somewhere else. Well, that sounds like a no-brainer-- who wouldn't want to get their prescriptions filled right where they work? Very convenient, no? NO. First of all, the company I work for is huge, with many locations and lots of scattered around buildings, and my building is not one with the pharmacy in it. Technically, this is not "at work" for me. Second, the pharmacies have banker's hours. Who gets sick from 8 to 5 and not on weekends or holidays? Finally, these company owned pharmacies were never designed to handle the volume of the thousands of employees filling all their scripts. The lines can be outrageously long and I personally like to go to a pharmacy where I can pick up other things on my list of household needs all in one stop. This is like being told to do all your grocery shopping at the farmers market. I love my national chain, 24/7 drive thru pharmacy!
So, for the past year, I have continued to have my scripts filled at large retail pharmacies and just paid the extra copayment rather than mess with the "convenience" of filling any meds at work.
Until this past weekend.....
I saw my doctor on Friday, and she sent an electronic prescription in for me to my Large National Chain Retail 24/7 With Drive Thru Pharmacy. My hubby and I ran around all day long and when we finally got home that evening, there was a message to call The Pharmacy. Turns out, this medication the doctor ordered is "special" and my insurance says I can only fill it at one of the "Workplace, Bankers Hours, located inside a building with a big long lines Pharmacies". I looked at the clock-- Workplace Pharmacy officially closed. He told me to call on Monday and have Workplace Pharmacy get the prescription from them and have it filled. *sigh* Well, all right. I let out a mediocre snarl.
Monday morning. I call Workplace Pharmacy and explain to them that there is a script waiting for me at the Large National Chain Retail 24/7 With Drive Thru Pharmacy that they can't fill because of my stupid insurance rules and asked them to please call and fill it. "Yep, no problem, we'll do that".
Monday afternoon. After work, I drive over to Workplace Pharmacy and stand in line for 18 minutes behind 6 customers in a very tiny space about the size of my bathroom. There is one Pharmacy Tech working the register, and one Pharmacist filling the scripts. Whispered snarl. When it's finally my turn, I approach the window and ask for my script. I hear the pharmacist behind the counter say "Oh. Yeah, that's a long story". Audible snarl. "What?" The pharmacist comes over and has a little piece of paper in his hand. He says, "We called the Large National Chain Retail 24/7 With Drive Thru Pharmacy and they didn't have a prescription for you. Then, we called this number (he points to the piece of paper where I see someone has written the number to my doctor's office) and that number doesn't exist for your doctor".
Pause. Close my eyes, breathe in once, out once, open eyes again.
Me: "Ok, yes, that is my doctor's office phone number; perhaps the person misdialed and should have dialed it twice before deciding it didn't exist. Also, I know somebody had something on record for me somewhere because I didn't give you all my doctor's phone number, so the other pharmacy had to tell you that, which would have been on.the.script.".
The Workplace Pharmacist shrugs his shoulders and calls over to the Large National Chain Retail 24/7 With Drive Thru Pharmacy to double check. He hangs up and confirms again to me: nope, they don't have any record of having a prescription for me. What is this, the Twilight Zone? Yes there is, they called and told me they couldn't fill it! On Friday! And told me to call you!
So, for the past year, I have continued to have my scripts filled at large retail pharmacies and just paid the extra copayment rather than mess with the "convenience" of filling any meds at work.
Until this past weekend.....
I saw my doctor on Friday, and she sent an electronic prescription in for me to my Large National Chain Retail 24/7 With Drive Thru Pharmacy. My hubby and I ran around all day long and when we finally got home that evening, there was a message to call The Pharmacy. Turns out, this medication the doctor ordered is "special" and my insurance says I can only fill it at one of the "Workplace, Bankers Hours, located inside a building with a big long lines Pharmacies". I looked at the clock-- Workplace Pharmacy officially closed. He told me to call on Monday and have Workplace Pharmacy get the prescription from them and have it filled. *sigh* Well, all right. I let out a mediocre snarl.
Monday morning. I call Workplace Pharmacy and explain to them that there is a script waiting for me at the Large National Chain Retail 24/7 With Drive Thru Pharmacy that they can't fill because of my stupid insurance rules and asked them to please call and fill it. "Yep, no problem, we'll do that".
Monday afternoon. After work, I drive over to Workplace Pharmacy and stand in line for 18 minutes behind 6 customers in a very tiny space about the size of my bathroom. There is one Pharmacy Tech working the register, and one Pharmacist filling the scripts. Whispered snarl. When it's finally my turn, I approach the window and ask for my script. I hear the pharmacist behind the counter say "Oh. Yeah, that's a long story". Audible snarl. "What?" The pharmacist comes over and has a little piece of paper in his hand. He says, "We called the Large National Chain Retail 24/7 With Drive Thru Pharmacy and they didn't have a prescription for you. Then, we called this number (he points to the piece of paper where I see someone has written the number to my doctor's office) and that number doesn't exist for your doctor".
Pause. Close my eyes, breathe in once, out once, open eyes again.
Me: "Ok, yes, that is my doctor's office phone number; perhaps the person misdialed and should have dialed it twice before deciding it didn't exist. Also, I know somebody had something on record for me somewhere because I didn't give you all my doctor's phone number, so the other pharmacy had to tell you that, which would have been on.the.script.".
The Workplace Pharmacist shrugs his shoulders and calls over to the Large National Chain Retail 24/7 With Drive Thru Pharmacy to double check. He hangs up and confirms again to me: nope, they don't have any record of having a prescription for me. What is this, the Twilight Zone? Yes there is, they called and told me they couldn't fill it! On Friday! And told me to call you!
Now there are people lined up behind me. Guess what-- I don't care. Roaring snarl. I will not be brushed off that easily. I said "Let me call them, where is there a phone that I can use?" and the Pharmacist hands me the phone from behind the counter.
I call over to Large National Chain Retail 24/7 With Drive Thru Pharmacy and push the automated menu buttons until I get a chipper young lady who informs me she is the Pharmacy Tech on duty. I explain to her that I am waiting over at Workplace, Bankers Hours, located inside a building with a big long lines Pharmacy trying to pick up my prescription that they were supposed to release. I tell her all about the Friday night phone call from them saying the medication was special and couldn't be filled by them and that I would need to have it transferred. She takes my information and puts me on hold. She comes back on and says:
"We don't have any record of ever receiving this prescription for you. We can see when they came in and when we closed them out, and there is just nothing here for you". And then she says a sentence that makes me feel as if she could be right, and this might all be a bad dream. She says: "Are you sure it was this pharmacy that you spoke to?" but she says it in a half-committed voice that shows even she believes she deserves to have her ass beaten for such a dumb thing to say.
At this point I take a nanosecond to fantasize that I have magical powers and the ability to reach through the phone, down the cord, across the phone lines, into her store and smack her around 3 of 4 times while I shout: "Pay Attention!!! Of COURSE it was you all I spoke to, you're the only pharmacy I use!!!!!" But I zap back into reality and take it easy on her with just, "Are you kidding me, yes, it was your pharmacy. Let me speak to someone else". She gladly put me on hold.
Next up: the Retail Pharmacist who just came on shift and has no idea what the bozo before him did that day with my script. He half-heartedly listens to me tell the whole story again and he says, "Well, we just don't have anything here in the system for you". I said, "Then you need to call the pharmacist at home that worked today and ask he/she what the h*ll they did with my prescription!"
At this point, I have now been in the Workplace, Bankers Hours, located inside a building with a big long lines Pharmacy for a good 35 minutes. I am tired, hungry, and losing my will to fight. I say to Retail Pharmacist, who clearly does not care what happened to my script and is peeved with Retail Tech for putting me over to him, "so what do I do now?". And he says "I'm not sure, call the doctor for a new script". To which I say, envisioning the white flag of surrender waving above my head, "well, ok". And you know what? He never, ever, not once, through the entire conversation said "We're sorry". Jerk.
I hang up the phone and turn back to the Workplace Pharmacy tech. She says she will call my doctor in the morning and get a new script for me. She then lights up and says: "Hey, let me call the (Workplace) Pharmacist who was here today and see if we can get better details of what happened when she called for your script". Great idea!
She turns to the computer, pauses for a moment with her hands above the keys, then says to the Pharmacist: "What's the name of the pharmacist on day shift?"
And it was a good thing I was sitting down, because Workplace Pharmacist replies: "I don't know, I think it starts with an S".
WHAT?
Are you joking?
You guys don't even know the names of your coworkers that pass off messages for people's prescriptions to you??????? Have you not been paying attention the last 35 minutes to see that there are numerous communication breakdowns here???
I left my cell phone number, walked out, went home, and have been cursing my insurance ever since. Just because they decide that I should use a certain pharmacy, I am 4 days without the medicine my doctor ordered, and not even a prescription anywhere now to show for it. And once the mess is straightened out, I'll have to make another trip to the Workplace Pharmacy, stand in another long line while trying my best not to invade the other customers' personal space in the tiny area, and wait for my turn to go to the window and cross all my fingers and toes that the med is there waiting for me. Wow, the convenience of filling prescriptions at work.
All things Olive today:
Air conditioning!
Neighbors that make me dinner
1/2 cran grape juice mixed with 1/2 seltzer water
All things Olive today:
Air conditioning!
Neighbors that make me dinner
1/2 cran grape juice mixed with 1/2 seltzer water
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
I'm not hungry.... Man, I want some cheese!
Another trip to the vet today. I really missed the boat on this one. For the past few weeks, Copper has been limping and holding up his paw occasionally. We noticed it three times and each time it was after he'd been roughhousing with Cami or jumping around. He's got these big fat tumors all over him and one of them lies right up in his "armpit" under that front leg. I assumed he was compensating for moving with that fat tumor in the way and somehow straining his leg. So, each time he'd limp I'd give him half of one of his doggie pain pills and get him fixed up on his bed with an ice pack and lots of babying. Today my husband decided to take him to the vet because he kept limping. Guess what is the cause of his ailments? -- The pad of his paw is all raw and infected between his toes. Wow, I really missed that one. I have seen him licking his paws lately but I checked them and didn't see anything. Oops. Bad Mama. He got a steroid shot and some anti's and lots of apologies from Mama Dog.
I know it's early in the pregnancy, but I have already developed some interesting food aversions. I pretty much don't want any food until something that I finally decide sounds good pops into my head and then I HAVE to have that food right NOW! The past couple of days have been a cheese fest. Or frenzy. I can't get enough cheese-- cream cheese, grilled cheese, Cheez-Its, nachos, cheese sticks, Laughing Cow cheese and saltines-- YUM! Last night I came home and made a frozen pizza and nachos. I picked the toppings off till it was basically a cheese pizza and scarfed down the nachos. I know, I know, you're all wagging a finger at me to eat healthier, but right now I am glad I am eating, period. I will work the healthy stuff in as I get my taste back. And yes, I am taking my vitamins.
The other day I was at the pool and was trying to read a book but I kept getting distracted by two little boys that were having a big time. Their job for the day was to empty the pool. Or try to. One of them had a bucket and he was dumping water onto the pool deck. The other had a big, flat pool toy and he was spreading the water out across the deck after the other dumped it. All of a sudden, the "Water Spreader" came over and asked me if he could borrow my table (the little plastic table that my water bottle was sitting on). I said "ok". He started to haul it over but his mom made him stop. He went back to his work of spreading water. The "Water Dumper" came over to me immediately and said "Next time, you're gonna have to give that up so my friend can use it". I nodded obediently and said "Yes sir". Smirk. Sooo cute.
The funniest thing about being at the pool is the constant battle between kids running around the pool and the moms shouting "No Running!" a million times. What IS it about being at the pool that makes you want to run? Why does everything have to be done SO much FASTER at the pool? "There's my ball! I have to RUN and get it!" And there's always a mom or dad whose been so engrossed in their magazine/novel/cell phone/nap that you think there is no way they are remotely aware of what is going on who suddenly comes alive and screams: NO RUNNING! Which only serves to make the kid downshift into this awkward half-run, half-walk stride. I really don't see the big deal. It's not like the pool deck is made out of ice covered in non-stick cooking spray or something super slick. It's concrete. But my mom was one of those "No Running" protestors and I was one of those kids that just had to HURRY!
All things "Olive" today:
Cheese!
Sleep
The Hunger Games series
xoxo,
Meanie
I know it's early in the pregnancy, but I have already developed some interesting food aversions. I pretty much don't want any food until something that I finally decide sounds good pops into my head and then I HAVE to have that food right NOW! The past couple of days have been a cheese fest. Or frenzy. I can't get enough cheese-- cream cheese, grilled cheese, Cheez-Its, nachos, cheese sticks, Laughing Cow cheese and saltines-- YUM! Last night I came home and made a frozen pizza and nachos. I picked the toppings off till it was basically a cheese pizza and scarfed down the nachos. I know, I know, you're all wagging a finger at me to eat healthier, but right now I am glad I am eating, period. I will work the healthy stuff in as I get my taste back. And yes, I am taking my vitamins.
The other day I was at the pool and was trying to read a book but I kept getting distracted by two little boys that were having a big time. Their job for the day was to empty the pool. Or try to. One of them had a bucket and he was dumping water onto the pool deck. The other had a big, flat pool toy and he was spreading the water out across the deck after the other dumped it. All of a sudden, the "Water Spreader" came over and asked me if he could borrow my table (the little plastic table that my water bottle was sitting on). I said "ok". He started to haul it over but his mom made him stop. He went back to his work of spreading water. The "Water Dumper" came over to me immediately and said "Next time, you're gonna have to give that up so my friend can use it". I nodded obediently and said "Yes sir". Smirk. Sooo cute.
The funniest thing about being at the pool is the constant battle between kids running around the pool and the moms shouting "No Running!" a million times. What IS it about being at the pool that makes you want to run? Why does everything have to be done SO much FASTER at the pool? "There's my ball! I have to RUN and get it!" And there's always a mom or dad whose been so engrossed in their magazine/novel/cell phone/nap that you think there is no way they are remotely aware of what is going on who suddenly comes alive and screams: NO RUNNING! Which only serves to make the kid downshift into this awkward half-run, half-walk stride. I really don't see the big deal. It's not like the pool deck is made out of ice covered in non-stick cooking spray or something super slick. It's concrete. But my mom was one of those "No Running" protestors and I was one of those kids that just had to HURRY!
All things "Olive" today:
Cheese!
Sleep
The Hunger Games series
xoxo,
Meanie
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Well whaddya know
I love surprises. Ok, who am I kidding, no I don't. I like to control everything. But in this case, I love a surprise! It seems hubby and I are having a baby! Wow! We found out a week ago but the initial appointment with the doc wasn't all good news and was very disappointing. We waited a VERY long week to go back today for another appointment and all turned out OK. We got to see the baby on the ultrasound, and hear the heart beat. I am still trying to let it all sink in.
Wow, I guess you can say I'll do anything to get out of bootcamp!
All thing Olive today:
My wonderful husband.
God's sense of humor
Love and support from my wonderful friends
Wow, I guess you can say I'll do anything to get out of bootcamp!
All thing Olive today:
My wonderful husband.
God's sense of humor
Love and support from my wonderful friends
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Boot Camp is Hard.
About a month ago, my friend "Fanny" and I were simultaneously checking the day's Groupon from our neighboring cubicles. (If you don't know what Groupon is, you are missing out!) That day we found 8 Boot Camp sessions for the low, low price of $36. Hey, let's do it! I had no idea what I was getting into. I did some research (read: Googled) Boot Camp workouts and they looked hard but a quick way to burn a lotta calories. Sign me up. We both registered and last night was our first Boot Camp workout.
Yesterday's high temp was 91 degrees. Boot Camp workouts are all outside. Downtown. In the city. On the concrete. To say it was hot would be a gross understatement. It was a scorcher. We met the rest of the suckers at our designated torture site for the evening, water bottles and towels in hand. Fanny and I arrived about 7 minutes before class time, so that left us 420 agonizing seconds to stand around in the sun and the heat, sweating up a storm, partly from the heat but mostly from anxiety. I wanted to ask everyone "So, did you sign up just because it was cheap on Groupon?" but I restrained myself. We weren't exactly sure what was going to happen to us over the next hour. I don't think either of us spoke in those minutes before class. Fanny is quite a bit younger than me, and in much better shape. She did the mini-marathon this year and works out regularly with P90X. She had nothing to be worried about. I on the other hand, was ill-prepared.
Finally it was time to begin, and we were introduced to the 3 trainers that would be working us out. 2 perky young ladies and one guy. They seemed nice enough, they were fit and trim, but not big muscle heads and they weren't yelling at us or anything. I started to relax a little.
First up on the agenda: warm up jog. Once around the block, trainer leading the way. Not bad. Hey, I can handle this! Sweating is a good thing, looks at those calories go!
Next: calisthenics. A nice, gut wrenching, heart pumping sequence of 30 jumping jacks, 30 knee highs, 30 of those things I can't remember where you're kicking your feet back like you're kicking yourself in the butt, and 20 squats. Once that sequence was done-- start over! Get through it that time and, guess what-- start over again! Somewhere in the butt kickers of the second set, I felt it-- I am going to throw up. I couldn't breathe, so freaking hot I couldn't imagine that I would I ever cool down again, and my stomach was ready to evacuate. I slowed down and sort of half-jumped, half-stood around while the rest of the group started the third set. Fanny was a ROCK STAR-- she made it through the whole thing! I ambled over to my water bottle, which had by this time started to simmer like a pot of soup. My stomach eased up a bit.
"Okay take a rest for a minute!". Bless you, perky little trainer. I will do just that. I caught my breath for a moment, murmured a few "Holy Sh*t!"s to Fanny because that's what I do when I don't know what to do, and started to wonder if I was really gonna make this. Sweat was everywhere. I could count my pulse just from it beating in my ears from the heat.
Round 3: running steps. Ahhh, yes, the location where we were has a set of steps that are not altogether unlike the "Rocky steps". Our task is to run to the top of the steps with our partner, pause there to do some arm work with the resistance bands, and run back down the steps. Three times. First time up the stairs- nice and speedy, I'm working now! I got my second wind! I got to the top, we busted out the arm exercises, and trucked back down the steps. Next time up the steps, I was walking. And panting. I messily made my way through the arms, and kind of let gravity do its thing and push me back down the steps. Third time up those steps-- we stayed up. I don't recall that I went back down those *^&% steps any more. By that time I was soaked in sweat and breathing so hard that when I exhaled it was some kind of harsh, wheezy, rush of air that I couldn't get out fast enough so I could hurry and take in another. Oh, and by this time I am coughing. My water bottle is now at a hard boil. I took a swig but spit it right back out.
We all sat down. Several people in the group have fared better than I have by this point, but there were a few who dropped out back at the jumping jacks. I gauged myself as doing "ok". I mean, I didn't puke or anything. Fanny is still Rockin it Out!
The last exercises of the class were a blur. There was some stuff with cones, some burpees, some donkey kick-like things, and I don't know what else. Oh, more steps. I pushed up and down those steps a couple more times. By this time, though, I had become complete incapable of following directions. The trainer would demonstrate the exercises for us, complete with how many reps and sets of each, and I would nod obediently, but as soon as it was "go time", I would freeze and mumble incoherently at Fanny "wait, what?"... Lack of oxygen is all I can say for myself.
Before I knew it, it was time to cool down and stretch. I started to feel somewhat like my breathing was coming back under control. I found my car keys and cursed myself for parking so far away. My legs were complete jelly walking back down the steps toward the parking spaces. I wasn't sure I was going to be able to push the gas and brake pedals. I said goodbye to Fanny, started my car, and turned the A/C to max. I stopped at the first gas station I got to and got a PowerAde Zero out of the cooler. 32 ounces. I drank 16 ounces on the way to the cash register. I drank the other 16 waiting for the lady to make change from my 5 dollar bill. I walked out with my empty bottle and change.
According to Fanny's heart rate monitor, she burned 1100 calories in 55 minutes. With all my resting, I am sure I did not, but I probably got somewhere about 600 calories outta me. I will definitely go back to tomorrow's session for another delirium-inducing sweat fest. We've decided to freeze our water bottles before class this time (duh) so we're not dying of dehydration. Oh, and I probably shouldn't wear black workout pants again, either-- too hot!
To all the men and women in the military who have endured real Boot Camp or Basic Training, in much hotter conditions than these, with real drill sergeants instead of perky trainers that I paid to yell at me, and in much less comfortable garb than my Dri-Fit Workout Wear-- I salute you. I am not worthy.
All things "Olive" today:
Epsom salts- works wonders on sore muscles!
Going to bed before it's even dark outside
Garbanzo beans on my salad
xoxo,
Meanie
Yesterday's high temp was 91 degrees. Boot Camp workouts are all outside. Downtown. In the city. On the concrete. To say it was hot would be a gross understatement. It was a scorcher. We met the rest of the suckers at our designated torture site for the evening, water bottles and towels in hand. Fanny and I arrived about 7 minutes before class time, so that left us 420 agonizing seconds to stand around in the sun and the heat, sweating up a storm, partly from the heat but mostly from anxiety. I wanted to ask everyone "So, did you sign up just because it was cheap on Groupon?" but I restrained myself. We weren't exactly sure what was going to happen to us over the next hour. I don't think either of us spoke in those minutes before class. Fanny is quite a bit younger than me, and in much better shape. She did the mini-marathon this year and works out regularly with P90X. She had nothing to be worried about. I on the other hand, was ill-prepared.
Finally it was time to begin, and we were introduced to the 3 trainers that would be working us out. 2 perky young ladies and one guy. They seemed nice enough, they were fit and trim, but not big muscle heads and they weren't yelling at us or anything. I started to relax a little.
First up on the agenda: warm up jog. Once around the block, trainer leading the way. Not bad. Hey, I can handle this! Sweating is a good thing, looks at those calories go!
Next: calisthenics. A nice, gut wrenching, heart pumping sequence of 30 jumping jacks, 30 knee highs, 30 of those things I can't remember where you're kicking your feet back like you're kicking yourself in the butt, and 20 squats. Once that sequence was done-- start over! Get through it that time and, guess what-- start over again! Somewhere in the butt kickers of the second set, I felt it-- I am going to throw up. I couldn't breathe, so freaking hot I couldn't imagine that I would I ever cool down again, and my stomach was ready to evacuate. I slowed down and sort of half-jumped, half-stood around while the rest of the group started the third set. Fanny was a ROCK STAR-- she made it through the whole thing! I ambled over to my water bottle, which had by this time started to simmer like a pot of soup. My stomach eased up a bit.
"Okay take a rest for a minute!". Bless you, perky little trainer. I will do just that. I caught my breath for a moment, murmured a few "Holy Sh*t!"s to Fanny because that's what I do when I don't know what to do, and started to wonder if I was really gonna make this. Sweat was everywhere. I could count my pulse just from it beating in my ears from the heat.
Round 3: running steps. Ahhh, yes, the location where we were has a set of steps that are not altogether unlike the "Rocky steps". Our task is to run to the top of the steps with our partner, pause there to do some arm work with the resistance bands, and run back down the steps. Three times. First time up the stairs- nice and speedy, I'm working now! I got my second wind! I got to the top, we busted out the arm exercises, and trucked back down the steps. Next time up the steps, I was walking. And panting. I messily made my way through the arms, and kind of let gravity do its thing and push me back down the steps. Third time up those steps-- we stayed up. I don't recall that I went back down those *^&% steps any more. By that time I was soaked in sweat and breathing so hard that when I exhaled it was some kind of harsh, wheezy, rush of air that I couldn't get out fast enough so I could hurry and take in another. Oh, and by this time I am coughing. My water bottle is now at a hard boil. I took a swig but spit it right back out.
We all sat down. Several people in the group have fared better than I have by this point, but there were a few who dropped out back at the jumping jacks. I gauged myself as doing "ok". I mean, I didn't puke or anything. Fanny is still Rockin it Out!
The last exercises of the class were a blur. There was some stuff with cones, some burpees, some donkey kick-like things, and I don't know what else. Oh, more steps. I pushed up and down those steps a couple more times. By this time, though, I had become complete incapable of following directions. The trainer would demonstrate the exercises for us, complete with how many reps and sets of each, and I would nod obediently, but as soon as it was "go time", I would freeze and mumble incoherently at Fanny "wait, what?"... Lack of oxygen is all I can say for myself.
Before I knew it, it was time to cool down and stretch. I started to feel somewhat like my breathing was coming back under control. I found my car keys and cursed myself for parking so far away. My legs were complete jelly walking back down the steps toward the parking spaces. I wasn't sure I was going to be able to push the gas and brake pedals. I said goodbye to Fanny, started my car, and turned the A/C to max. I stopped at the first gas station I got to and got a PowerAde Zero out of the cooler. 32 ounces. I drank 16 ounces on the way to the cash register. I drank the other 16 waiting for the lady to make change from my 5 dollar bill. I walked out with my empty bottle and change.
According to Fanny's heart rate monitor, she burned 1100 calories in 55 minutes. With all my resting, I am sure I did not, but I probably got somewhere about 600 calories outta me. I will definitely go back to tomorrow's session for another delirium-inducing sweat fest. We've decided to freeze our water bottles before class this time (duh) so we're not dying of dehydration. Oh, and I probably shouldn't wear black workout pants again, either-- too hot!
To all the men and women in the military who have endured real Boot Camp or Basic Training, in much hotter conditions than these, with real drill sergeants instead of perky trainers that I paid to yell at me, and in much less comfortable garb than my Dri-Fit Workout Wear-- I salute you. I am not worthy.
All things "Olive" today:
Epsom salts- works wonders on sore muscles!
Going to bed before it's even dark outside
Garbanzo beans on my salad
xoxo,
Meanie
Monday, July 5, 2010
Shouldn't we be famous by now???
Just got back from my parents' house for the holiday. Every year, since my parents moved back to Kentucky, they've hosted a 4th of July party. The town they live in has a pretty decent fireworks show after dark, so my parents start the entertaining (read: food service) somewhere around noon. The whole day is good old family fun- silly games, lots of good food. As I drove back home today, I was thinking about all the food we had, and I was astonished. I mean, with all this food, why are we NOT in the catering business??? Here's what we had:
Starting at noon (appetizers):
Veggie tray with Ranch dip
Fruit tray with fruit dip
Bruschetta
Hot broccoli cheese dip with chips
Red pepper jelly with tortilla chips
Veggie Pizza
Dad's famous lemon pepper hot wings
Dad's famous buffalo wings
Grandma's cukes from the garden soaked in salt water
Grandma's cukes from the garden soaked in vinegar
Chex Mix
yeah, see what I mean? This is just the munchie food till the real dinner starts!!!
At 6 o'clock, dinner is served. We had:
Pulled pork barbecue (with all the fixin's)
Hot Dog bar-- choice of hot dog or Andouille sausage with kraut, chili, relish, onions, mustard, ketchup
Potato casserole
Corn on the cob
German potato salad
Vinegar cole slaw
Dorito salad
Mac 'n cheese
Cowboy Beans
Fruit salad
Orange sherbet salad
Deviled eggs
Yeah, I know, it's insane. (If you want any of the recipes for anything, I'll share them with you!)
THEN, in case anybody in the family can still can walk more than 5 steps and hasn't had to undo the button on their pants, there was the dessert table:
Sour cream cake
Ooey Gooey Butter cake
Cupcakes
Brownies
No idea what else because I was officially in a coma by this point.
I brought home a whole cooler full of food today that was leftover from the party. My family loves food, loves to eat, loves to share our dishes with each other. Everybody has "their dish" that they usually make year after year, or some variation. I spent most of the drive home trying to find more reasons to get together and eat. We already do Christmas, Turkey Day, 4th of July, Easter.... hmmmm, maybe we need to start doing a Halloween dinner?
And another thought occured to me: why the heck aren't we caterers??? We've got this party thing DOWN! We should be getting paid for it!
All things Olive today:
Family
Sunshine on my face at sunset on the lake
Mama's Oooey Gooey Butter cake
xoxo!
Meanie
Starting at noon (appetizers):
Veggie tray with Ranch dip
Fruit tray with fruit dip
Bruschetta
Hot broccoli cheese dip with chips
Red pepper jelly with tortilla chips
Veggie Pizza
Dad's famous lemon pepper hot wings
Dad's famous buffalo wings
Grandma's cukes from the garden soaked in salt water
Grandma's cukes from the garden soaked in vinegar
Chex Mix
yeah, see what I mean? This is just the munchie food till the real dinner starts!!!
At 6 o'clock, dinner is served. We had:
Pulled pork barbecue (with all the fixin's)
Hot Dog bar-- choice of hot dog or Andouille sausage with kraut, chili, relish, onions, mustard, ketchup
Potato casserole
Corn on the cob
German potato salad
Vinegar cole slaw
Dorito salad
Mac 'n cheese
Cowboy Beans
Fruit salad
Orange sherbet salad
Deviled eggs
Yeah, I know, it's insane. (If you want any of the recipes for anything, I'll share them with you!)
THEN, in case anybody in the family can still can walk more than 5 steps and hasn't had to undo the button on their pants, there was the dessert table:
Sour cream cake
Ooey Gooey Butter cake
Cupcakes
Brownies
No idea what else because I was officially in a coma by this point.
I brought home a whole cooler full of food today that was leftover from the party. My family loves food, loves to eat, loves to share our dishes with each other. Everybody has "their dish" that they usually make year after year, or some variation. I spent most of the drive home trying to find more reasons to get together and eat. We already do Christmas, Turkey Day, 4th of July, Easter.... hmmmm, maybe we need to start doing a Halloween dinner?
And another thought occured to me: why the heck aren't we caterers??? We've got this party thing DOWN! We should be getting paid for it!
All things Olive today:
Family
Sunshine on my face at sunset on the lake
Mama's Oooey Gooey Butter cake
xoxo!
Meanie
Woo Hoo!
Hey everyone! This is my new blog!!! It's pretty basic right now, I hope to spruce it up as I get more comfortable with blogspot. Share my link with your friends, and I promise not to be one of those people who has a blog but only posts every blue moon.
Hmmm, blue moon. Yum...
Hmmm, blue moon. Yum...
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