Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Can't I just take a pill?

I dragged my ass to the gym today. I've been slacking off because of the move, vacation and just general summer mayhem, so it was time.

I decided to take it easy and not take the class I would have normally taken on a Wednesday. It involves a lot of cardio, and I wasn't really in the mood to have a heart attack today.

I was making my way around the weight machine curcuit when one of the gym's personal trainer guys walks right up to me and starts saying something. I couldn't hear him at first because I had Ira Glass blaring in my ears, and frankly I was a little confused.

I don't talk to anyone around me at the gym unless we are in a class together. I feel weird even making eye contact with anyone while I am on the weight machines, and here's this guy I don't even know striking up a conversation with me.

"Would you like me to show you a better way to work out your chest?"

"Excuse me?" A thousand snarky and/or pervy retorts immediately flooded my brain.

I think the gym is trying to drum up business for their personal trainers so they are sending them out on what essentially boils down to "cold calls".

I can just hear their morning meetings:

"Well guys and gals, no one wants to pay the ridiculous personal trainer fees we have so why don't you get out there and try to get some of our memebers hooked by giving out a few freebies. Try the "mom types" first. They're desperate for attention."

I figured it wouldn't kill me to see what this personal training thing was all about even if I'll never have the extra funds to actually hire one.

He was nice and seemed to know what he was talking about. He was sort of cute in a clean cut way, but...he was wearing cologne. Why cover up the very thing you are trying to be while at the gym?

Sweaty can be sexy, though for the record, there are different kinds of sweaty. Sweaty from exercise, mowing the lawn, sex or fixing shit is hot. Sweaty from the anticipation of getting to the next level of a video is not.

So this cologne-wearing pretty boy is showing me some free weight stuff and some stability ball exercises I can do and offers me a free session. Free is good.

Then he asks for my name and phone number, "I'll call you tonight if I have any kind of scheduling conflict."

Part of me hopes that he does have some sort of conflict. It feels really strange to have someone standing there, watching me do exercises and now I have to do it for a whole hour.

What have I gotten myself into?

Friday, July 13, 2007

Thursday, July 12, 2007

A gorgeous day to play outside

Good ideas for games to play at the park with your kids:

1. Tag
2. Ball
3. Hide and Seek
4. Slide and swings

Bad ideas for games to play at the park with your kids:

1. Parking lot tag
2. Stick fight
3. Hansel and Gretel
4. Poke the whino

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

One time I dated someone really dumb

In between sluttin' it up in college, I had an actual honest-to-goodness boyfriend for a good stretch.

He was sweet when I first met him. I almost didn't go out with him, he was so sweet. I just wasn't into nice guys. As it turned out, he wasn't a total anklebiter so I gave it a go.

We were together a few months when Christmas break came around. I visited him at his parent's house (a good three hours from mine) over the two week vacation, and had a nice time. His parents, little brother and sister left for church for a few hours at one point. Later, his dog brought the condom wrapper he had fished out from under the bed to the dinner table. I got a rockin' glare from Boyfriend's Mom and a wink from Dad.

A few months later, Boyfriend decided to get two pet mice for his dorm room. I questioned his judgement, but since I wasn't going to have anything to do with them, I passed it off as another of his stupid ideas. I was tiring of him by this point, but he was cute and fun and had certain talents a smart girl doesn't pass up lightly.

Then Spring Break rolled around.

When one lives in a college dorm, one is required to vacate the premises over any school break. They don't want you hanging around causing trouble (until moving off campus anyway) while no one "official" is on post.

I spoke with Boyfriend over break on the phone (as I wasn't exactly welcome to visit anymore...).

"How are your little pets doing? Did you Mom freak out when you walked in the door with a couple of rodents?"


"You brought them home with you, didn't you?"


He left two mice in his dorm room for a week.

Having pets in the dorms was obviously strictly forbidden, but having some janitor find them wasn't really the point. We did a lot of things we weren't supposed to be doing in the dorms.

What kind of fucktard thinks leaving living things that need to eat food and drink water alone for seven days (nine if he left on the Friday before) is a good idea?

I had never held him up as a brainiac, but this took the cake.

When we got back to school I asked him what happened. Turns out these mice had a showdown that ended with them both getting out of their cage and one of them pulling an Alive worthy cannibalistic smackdown--on Boyfriend's bed. He came back to one and a fourth dead mice nestled on his pillow.

I refused to even enter his dorm room until he threw all his bedding in the dumpster and requested (and received) a new mattress. It wasn't long after that that I had to be done with him.

Some things you just can't overlook.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Is it any wonder why I'm so obsessed?

I've decided that I finally feel like an successful adult. Why? Because I now have a "beer fridge" in the garage.

I remember growing up, going to my friends' houses (which was jealousy inducing in the first place as we always lived in tiny apartments), and seeing a second refrigerator in the garage.

"My GOD!" I thought to myself, "It's not enough that these people don't have to share a bedroom with their brother, and now THIS?!" The humanity.

It all seemed so decadent, like the time I found out my friend's Mom had a phone in her car. A her CAR. The year was 1984 (I was 10 years old for those playing at home). We wouldn't get a cordless phone at my house for another 3 years, and here was this woman, able to yak it up while driving around. I was amazed.

Dishwashers were another obsession of mine. Every time I went over to a new friend's house to play, I would find myself wandering into the kitchen to check for one. To me, having a dishwasher was a sign of prosperity.

At my house, we had a small black and white TV that my Dad threatened to throw away at least once a week, much to my brother and I's deafening disapproval.

At my friends' houses, they had giant color televisions in several rooms of the house including, something quite foreign to me, the "den". I never understood why people needed a whole room to sit and watch TV (wasn't that what the living room was for?), but I wanted one just the same.

Then there was cable. My parents finally relented just last year and got themselves signed up for cable television. Only after they spent some time at my house and saw that there was more to it than boobs and crap. My Dad is now a Discovery channel junkie and my Mom can watch Columbo at just about any hour of the day.

I don't fault my parents for the way they raised me. It wasn't like they didn't want to enjoy the conveniences of life. We just couldn't afford it. I certainly appreciate what I have now more than I think I would had I grown up with privilege.

It's funny now the way my Mom showers my girls with more clothes and gifts than is humanly necessary. At first I thought she was just excited to have grandchildren (and that is part of it), but it finally dawned on me that she is trying to make up for what she couldn't give my brother and I.

I've tried to reason with her. My kids don't need all this stuff. No one does.

While it's great that I almost never have to buy clothes for my girls, I still get an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach when she brings over a pile of new outfits or toys. I don't want her to feel like she has anything to prove. She and my Dad made do with what they had, and did it very well in my opinion.

The fact that I can get excited about having a "beer fridge" is proof of that.

Monday, July 9, 2007

Sunday, July 8, 2007

Purty Shit

I got the coolest hairclip at Sugar Creek Arts Festival yesterday.

They didn't have anything with bacon on it (yet, but I did request it). However, I did pick up this rockin' bowling pin hairclip.

Methinks I'll be shopping from her a bit more in the days to come.

Saturday, July 7, 2007

I win!

The refrigerator that came with this house su-ucks. It's much smaller than the one we left the buyers of the old house, but that's something I could have gotten used to. The worst part of this piece of shit is that it is indeed a piece of shit. It's falling apart and the fridge part cools unevenly. I've got shredded cheese covered in ice crystals in back and warm yogurt up front. Not cool. Hahahaha! Ahem.

I got a wild hair up my ass today and decided that I was going to go out and get a new refrigerator. I was online doing a little research and got an idea of what I wanted, so after Jim got home I hopped in the car to price check in person.

Home Depot's selection was sad. One (too small) bottom freezer on the showroom floor and not a salesperson in sight to help me. Fuck them. I was off to Best Buy.

I was helped 4 seconds after walking into the appliance section and they don't even work on commission! Best Buy Guy was very helpful and found me exactly what I wanted. I told him I still had two more places to check, but he might be seeing me before close.

He was quick to add that they price match. Good to know, Mr. Salesguy.

Next stop was Sears. I got my sexy washer and dryer from Sears, and have been happy with their service in the past, so I had to give them a chance at my cash.

I found the exact same refrigerator at Sears that I saw at Best Buy--but for way more. Yikes.

I let Sears Saleswoman in on the info, and she asked me if I had any proof. I thought she was being a bitch until she added that they will price match PLUS 10%. If there's one thing about me you need to know, it's that this girl likes a bargain. I somehow feel like I've actually accomplished something amazing when I save a few bucks.

Somehow the sale gets passed onto Nervous Guy, and I have him bring up the Best Buy website on their in store computer. We find the sale price, he prints it and we're in business.

I hate talking numbers because it seems so rude and weird, but I'm going to make an exception just this once.

After the price match and the extra 10% (plus 0% for 12 months!), I got a $2500(Sears' price) refrigerator for $1600. She's a beaut too. French door/bottom freezer drawer, water dispenser inside, foldy shelf things, stainless steel and it has that Energy Star rating. Yee Fucking Haw!

They're delivering it Monday.

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Thursday, July 5, 2007

Birds are stupid

While I was outside having my morning coffee, a couple of birds flew into the screened in porch. That was at about 8am.

It's almost 4pm and they're still flapping around in there. They can't figure out how to get out.

I tried enticing them with bits of bread crumbs at the door, but they didn't seem to notice. They'd rather fly into the screen, getting their beaks stuck, and leaving holes all over.

I tried shooing them out with a broom, but all that did was cause one of them to drop dead on the floor.

I really thought I gave it a heart attack, and I immediately burst into tears. It just laid there for a few minutes, not moving.

After that episode I decided better to ignore the whole matter until Jim got home. I like to leave the dirty jobs to him, like when one of the babies would poop in the tub during their nighttime bath.

"I've got a surprise for you in the bathtub," I would sing to him when he walked in the door after work. Worked every time.

As it turned out, the bird was not dead--only playing dead. How fucked up is that?

Maybe they're not as stupid as I thought.

I need a vacation after my vacation

We got back from vacation yesterday, and I am more than happy to be home. A few hours after we walked in the door, we had a bunch of people over for the 4th. It was fun, but now I am crazy tired.

Arizona was fun but exhausting. So much family to catch up with (I haven't seen most of them since my wedding 9 years ago, and some since I was about 8 years old).

The flight out there went fairly smoothly. I don't hate flying as much as I hate flying coach. Not that I know any differently. I've always had to sit in the cheap seats.

Stepping off the plane was predictably like stepping into an oven. 114 fucking degrees. Kiss my ass "dry heat", I thought I was going to disintegrate on the sidewalk after 5 minutes.

With apologies to anyone reading that lives in Arizona, I could never live out there. It's not just the oppressive heat. I don't think I could ever get used to the lack of green. I am by no means a nature girl, but all the sand and rocks and dust everywhere depressed me. It's like everything's permanently under construction.

Luckily everyone and everywhere in Arizona is required by law to have a swimming pool. I don't know if that's actually true, but it should be. Swimming everyday definitely took the edge off.

The wedding itself was really nice. I finally had a chance to relax. The girls stayed behind with my Aunt who came with us specifically to watch the girls during the wedding and reception. Let's just say I made the most of those child-free hours.

I got really really drunk. The kind of drunk that makes it alright to take off your shoes on the dancefloor and sing "I Will Survive" at the top of your lungs. The kind of drunk that preceeds asking the party bus driver where the stripper pole is. The kind of drunk that makes you think you can play pool with a couple of the groomsmen at the after party in a short dress and not really give a shit if everyone got a show.

The kind of drunk that makes a hangover a million times worse in the desert heat.

All in all, we had a good time and last night's get together was fun too. We always had 4th of July parties at our old house because we could see some fireworks from the comfort of our own yard. Luckily the new house is only a few blocks from another set of fireworks.

Jim got some painting done on the kitchen and hung some of our pictures while we were gone. The new house is slowly starting to feel more like home, save for our next big purchase: an obnoxiously large television. I can't wait to go shopping for that.

For Your Scrapbook

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I like stuff and things. I've been married for close to 14 years and have two miniature versions of myself running around (and it frightens me most of the time). I have never been nor will I ever be a vegetarian.