2 Out of 3 Ain't Bad

Flashback to three years ago:

My sister and I planned one day to go Christmas shopping. All. Day. "It will be FUN!", we said. "We can have lunch in the food court," we thought. "Before we start, we'll get coffee and bagels at Dunkin Donuts (and a few bags of coffee as gifts)," we multi-tasked. Did I mention that we planned to go all day?
Flash forward a few hours: Our backs breaking, feet aching, hungry due to inefficient price to portion ratios at food court, and we're just a tad exhausted and irritable. I am at Target, purchasing a white hoodie for our other sister when I realize there is a good sized hole near the neckline. "We better go back," said exhausted sister #1 as tears began to well up in her eyes. It was, of course, the last white hoodie on the rack. We had already been in line for half an hour. "Nah," I said, "She can exchange it at her Target." (I should mention, at this point, that after a nice sleep, I did go to another Target the next day where I exchanged the shirt myself.)

This was the last time I went Christmas shopping. Catalogs, how I love thee. Amazon.com, you are my savior. Online, baby! It's where its at. I hopped on that train and never looked back.

Unfortunately, I discovered this weekend that just a click of a button can cost you. A friend sent a catalog for one of those Tupperware-like businesses a few months ago. This one specializes in dip mixes, spices, cake and bread mixes, and that sort of thing. Of course, I searched the catalog immediately, and promptly resolved to place an order - tomorrow. After about 60 tomorrows, we come to Saturday, when I sat down, credit card in hand, and made three orders:
1. I sent a friend a gift package, but registered my consultant as a random person instead of the girl who sent the catalog. I know these people work for commission. I do not know that my order has successfully been placed.
2. I sent my friend a second gift package, this time registered to the correct consultant.
3. I sent my friend a third package that is supposed to come to my address.

The moral of the story? It is good to be my friend!

Naughty or Nice

I read once that it takes 3 months to officially break a bad habit. So, when I began my weight loss endeavor, I thought if I could just get my act together for 3 months, I'd be set. It wasn't easy, but I think I did manage to nuke my naughties and turn them into nices. But old habits die hard. Seemingly without my notice, I've turned back into my old self. Luckily, my new self is smaller than my old self, but my new new self could end up looking like my old self if my new self doesn't do something soon. Last time, I tackled my bad habits one at a time. But this time, I'm going to stop being naughty, and go right to nice (maybe).

Naughty: My daily office job is stimulating to the mind, but not to the body. When filling out a survey online, I was forced to admit that my life is "sedentary". I sit in a chair. All. Day.
Nice: The one time of day I can change this is lunch. I get one hour to do what I want. My old self generally chose to spend this time eating burritos. My new self walks at least a half hour at lunch each day (with the occasional burrito mixed in). Hey, I'm no saint.

Naughty: I often stay at work late for no good reason. Even when I have no deadline to meet, I find myself looking at the clock to find that it is 5:30. I then look to the gym schedule and see that I have missed a class, and I think I will need to go home before the next one. Right.
Nice: Priority #1 after office hours are over is M-E. I actually enjoy the classes at the gym, so all I need to do is watch the clock and make it there in time (at least three times a week).

Naughty: I drink too much dang coffee.
Nice: Umm...I still drink too much dang coffee. But at least I can limit it to one cup a day.

Naughty: I eat too much! I can't help it! I love cookies. I love cake. I love pizza and free lunch turkey wraps and brownies and nachos and beer.
Nice: Duh! I have to eat less. The spreadsheet worked well, but it is structured and time-consuming. Over time, I've learned to assess calories fairly accurately, so I do need to continue to count. Sigh. I can eat cookies, but not every day. So sad.

Naughty: Parties. All-you-can-eat buffets. Happy hours.
Nice: I don't know how to control myself in these situations. I have heard that chewing gum, or eating a good-sized "snack" like a bowl of cereal before the party are ways to cope with temptation. If this was just once in a while, I would say "screw it" and enjoy myself. But this is at least once a week. I do not wish to choose between my social life and my waistline.

Well 4 out of 5 isn't bad.

Home Cookin'

The directions on the box: Bring water and milk to a boil; add rice and seasoning packet. Reduce heat to low and simmer for 20-25 minutes, uncovered, stirring frequently.

My (apparent) interpretation: Bring water and milk to a boil over front burner; add rice and seasoning packet. Turn rear burner to low and watch as rice boils rapidly. Wonder if rice has some sort of "rapid boil additive" and resolve to ask food scientist brother if such a thing exists and, if so, how it works. Stir rarely.

Part 2 of the directions: Remove rice from burner and keep warm. Saute garlic and red pepper in oil for 30 seconds; add spinach and rice. Cook and stir for 3 minutes. In a separate bowl, whisk 10 eggs with milk. Add to rice mixture and stir quickly to distribute ingredients. Reduce heat to low and cover for 30-35 minutes. Top with cheese and tomato slices.

My interpretation: Remove rice from burner and place cheapo plastic spoon over piping hot pan. Saute garlic for 10 seconds, then open wrong side of container and dump at least 2 times the recommended amount of red pepper flakes into oil. Saute for 1-2 minutes until garlic is brown and sticking to pan. Add spinach and rice. Use slightly soft cheapo plastic spoon to scrape rice from edges. Read directions approximately 4 times to guarantee that yes, it does indeed require 10 eggs. Beat eggs with milk, add to rice and spinach. Reduce heat on correct burner and set timer. Before retiring to play Wii, put remaining eggs into specially designed refrigerator door holder, and be sure to drop one of them under the fridge. Use dustpan to scrape raw egg from under fridge, and wipe up remaining goo using kitchen cleaner. Retire (finally) to Wii game, but be sure to ignore timer in favor of winning game. Find pause button after pressing every possible button on controller, and return to kitchen where delicious, slightly burnt frittata sits in pan, complete with slightly chewy rice and trace amounts of plastic/teflon.

Skip the cheese since you forgot to shred it. Ditto on the tomato, since you forgot to buy one at the store.

Nothin' beats home cookin' eh?

Be Thankful

Be thankful for your health. Be thankful for your wealth. Be thankful for the things that are good in your life, and try to change the things that are not. I like to keep my blog light, airy, even jolly. But my life is not actually consumed by thoughts of baked goods (usually). I occasionally have serious thoughts. Lately, my thoughts are of two very inspirational people who lost their health, but not their spirit:

One – my grandfather, who died of cancer in 2002. I stopped by to visit him much more often as he neared the end, knowing that I would not have the chance for much longer. Many of my visits coincided with a visit from a physical therapist who worked with Papa regularly to help him maintain muscle movement. I think back on these times, as Papa sat in a chair and struggled to lift his leg to knee height. Sweat poured from his face as he counted the repetitions with a controlled breath. Part of me cries when I remember this, and part of me rejoices. He never gave up on life, even when the disease caused him extreme weakness and pain.

Two – Adam’s step father, who went to a Steeler’s game two weeks ago and was bumped by someone as he attempted to find his seat. He lost his balance and fell face first to land about three rows below. He was paralyzed at first, but after a few days, he was able to wiggle a big toe. Now, he is in a rehabilitation hospital. He has re-learned to dress himself, to eat with a spoon and fork, and to do countless other mundane movements which we take for granted on a regular basis. He has not yet mastered walking, but he related a tale in which he struggled for a half an hour to open a carton of milk. Eventually, he drank that milk. He is very proud to say that the carton did not win.

No matter how bad my day is, I am thankful for my health. I went to the gym yesterday and worked hard, even when I got tired, and I counted out the reps with sweat pouring down my face. My mentors are maybe not so lucky. But they sure are inspirational.

Blog of the Day

You may have noticed that one of my comments on my last post was removed by yours truly. I was excited to see a comment from a new person, but sadly, "Aimee" turned out to be a link to coupons for NY and Company. I think this is like making flirty eyes with a hottie at a bar all night only to find out he wants your friend's number.

However, I should thank this anonymous user who has toyed so ungraciously with my heart. Because of her, I had to figure out how delete comments (uhh, yeah..turns out that is the little trash can that shows up next to the comment...in my own defense, it looks a LOT like a hairbrush or a seashell.) While searching for this information, I found tons of things I can add to my blog!

A few that come to mind:
"Of the Day" series:
- Quote of the day
- Spock quote of the day
- Trump quote of the day (ick)
- Painting of the day (your choice of Picasso, Dahli, van Gough, etc, etc, etc)
- NASA picture of the day
- sunset of the day
- joke of the day
- today in history

"Tools" series:
-Wikipedia
-Dictionary
-Spell checker
-Thesauras (guess a spell checker might come in handy)
-Calorie Counter
-Exercise Tips (also available in the "of the day" series...)
-Weather
-the Periodic Table (wha??)

There are also games, sports updates, stock market updates, links, "Make a Wish" icons, and something called a "Woot! Watcher". The description clarifies: "Never miss a Woot! again. This gadget will show you the Woot! of the day, or will allow you to track Woot-Off in progress." Yeah. Crystal clear.

So you may notice that other than a list of blogs I follow and those who follow me (which I have been meaning to add for some time now), I did not add anything. Ever heard of sensory overload? It is just too much. Can't. Handle. Too many. Gargh.

A Gray Sort of Day

Gray are the skies over “Balmer” this day. Luckily, the clouds are finally yielding what Marylanders refer to as “snow”. Most Pennsylvanians call it a “light flurry”, while my boyfriend from Erie, PA calls it “Spring”. I do not mind cold temperatures as long as snow is produced, because I like snow. In stark contrast to my friend Cara, I detest climes less than 40 degrees. After work, I went to the grocery store and found that my gloves were not in my coat pocket, my backup gloves were not in the glove compartment, and my earmuffs were not in my purse. My backup hat, thankfully, was in place in the inner pocket. And I still had my hand warmers in the back for emergencies. Did I mention that I hate being cold??

Gray are my clothes today, for I woke this morning with a desire to wear a shirt that only matches one pair of pants. The clasp on these gray tweed pants broke about 10 months ago (give or take a month). The mission: to finally repair the clasp. It seems that I always have a pair of pants in the repair pile. This is why the expensive Talbots or Coldwater Creek pants are worth the extra buck(s). They don’t need ironing, and they don’t need mending. But sadly, a girl cannot resist 50% off sales at NY and Company. So, despite this small triumph in home economics (not my forte), I have two other pairs of pants needing mending. I am sure I will get to this by 2015. Maybe.

Gray is a hair on my head. Yes, I believe this one is official. The lighting in the office bathroom is such that I have been tricked into double-takes in the mirror, only to be relieved that the silver hair I thought I saw was just a shimmer. Yesterday, I realized the difference between a shimmer and an actual, real-life, gray hair. Home inspection under different lighting conditions confirms my assessment. I blame the architect who drove me to a near break down earlier in the week. Jerk-wad.

Gray was my face after I found some ranch dressing in the fridge, marked with the name of a co-worker who quit in September. I checked the date, saw it was February, and smothered it on my turkey sandwich for lunch. It tasted and smelled fine, but closer inspection of the label proved it was Feb 2008. Oops. Wasn’t that almost a year ago? I think my symptoms are psychosomatic, but I decided to leave work early anyway. You know, just in case.

Working Out is Fun...Or Not!

Today, I was unable to get to the gym for my usual Tuesday Step class. Correction - my usual Body Step Class. "Body Step" is for those of us who go to the gym for a cardiovascular workout, while "Step" is for those of us who plan to try out for a spot in a Janet Jackson video. I have occasionally made the mistake of attending a Step class (go figure). At best, I end up mired in frustration because I cannot dance. At worst, I twist an ankle and fall off my step. Yes, this is just as embarrassing as it sounds. Body step eliminates the complicated dance moves, and incorporates some good old fashioned squats and lunges in there. My ass has misinterpreted the intent and decided to bulk up, apparently. My ass has always been a slow learner. Se la vi.

So, today: Instead of my relatively fun class, I came home and cleaned with a frenzy. I scrubbed the toilet, swept and mopped the floors, scoured the shower, cleaned the mirrors, did some laundry, emptied the litter box, and tidied the apartment. And, according to "fit day", I burned 353 calories. No sweat! (Well...maybe a little.)

As I cleaned the bathrooms, I came to the realization that Adam has never done this since we have lived together. As with this last three months of non-cleaning, I have tested him on several occasions, and I just cannot beat him. I cleaned today due to absolute disgust with the state of the bathroom, and after a few days (ok, a week) of telling myself that I will definitely tackle the job after work. Men do not apparently have this threshold. As I continued to breathe in the toxic fumes of cleaning chemicals, it occurred to me that Adam is not alone. Nearly all men I have met have this ability to withstand potty germs. My friends from college had consistently gross bathrooms, or girlfriends who regularly cleaned. My brother and his roommates had no qualms about a toilet that involved hands in toilet water to flush. I have met men who will wear flip-flops in the shower before they even consider cleaning it.

The fumes continued to irritate my innards, and I realized that this phenomenon is not limited to my generation. I have never seen my father clean the bathroom. Nor have I witnessed my uncles or grandfathers with toilet wand in hand. One grandfather had his own shower in the basement, and I remember that he named the stains. Look, he would say, this one looks like Mickey Mouse. This did not strike me as odd when I was a kid. But now I see. The ability to clean a bathroom may be one that is lost to the male species. It happened long ago, and we women have not noticed because we women do not don flip flops in the face of mold.

I rose from my task determined. I will re-teach this skill to the men of the World! One man at a time. First lesson - chlorine and ammonia work best* when combined for Ultra Cleaning Power!
*Just to be clear, this is really not a good idea. So don't sue me if you failed Chemistry in high school!!