Motivated by Guilt...

This weekend was pretty much one giant feeding frenzy.

My sister's graduation party was Saturday, and my mom made all the food. Potato salad, mostaccioli, pulled pork, watermelon...oh, and cake (it was store bought, but still great)! We hung out with all her friends and the family, played some ladderball (a.k.a. hillbilly golf, ghetto golf) and badminton, drank wine, and ate way too much all day.

Sunday I was at work watching the storm try to knock out our power and listening to my coworker scream every time the lightning struck nearby. It'll make a guy pretty jumpy.

Monday we had a Memorial Day cookout with other friends. We had beer-boiled (and grilled) brats on pretzel rolls, lemon bars, brownies, cole slaw, fruit, chips, veggies...and more drinks. I probably drank a whole day's worth of calories...but we worked some of them (4 or 5) off playing bags and more ladder ball. It was a great time hanging with friends and meeting new ones.

Today? Today it's hot. Muggy. Windy, though. I didn't want to run. But then I thought about everything that I'd eaten this weekend. I said to myself, "You plan to sit around and do as little as possible today, right?"
"Right."
"And you want to do that without feeling guilty, correct?"
"Yup."
"Then get your ass out there and run."
"Fair enough."

So, here I am. Freshly showered. Contemplating a leftover lemon square but knowing I should have a glass of water and some watermelon instead. Oh, and the sunburn itch is, I think, officially over. *sings* "Ding-dong! The itch is dead! Which old itch? The sunburn itch! Ding-dong the itchy itch is dead!"

Out

SO OLD!!!!

Tonight I get to watch my sister graduate from high school.  I remember the day she was born.  I was ten.  Wow.  My brother and I were sitting on the couch with Gramma Gramma (that's what we called her...she was my mom's mom), and we were all waiting for the phone call.  The phone rang.  Gramma Gramma went to pick it up, and when she said it was a girl, I knew that for the rest of my life, I'd have a sister.  My brother cried.  He wanted a brother.  He wanted someone to teach to play catch and who would roughhouse and be tons of fun.  Well, he ended up teaching her all those things, anyway.

I remember telling her her first joke when she was old enough to understand them.  

I remember her first words.  My stepdad dropped a spoonful of applesauce on her head, and she said, "Uh-oh!"  We all laughed so hard we couldn't finish dinner.

Now she's all grown up, having boyfriends, working, and going to college.  COLLEGE!

I can't believe she's so old already.  And even though she'll be 18 in July, she's still my baby sister.  And I'll still kick her ass into shape if she's being stupid.

Love you, Christine!  Congratulations.

Out

Angry Mr. Sun...

So, Robb and I took a bike ride yesterday around 1 PM.  Why was he home?  Why was I home?  Well, he had a dentist's appointment in the morning and took the whole day off.  I'm just off on Tuesdays every week.  So, we decided to take advantage of it.  

Well...during our ride, we had a miscommunication which led to me pulling out in front of him...he slammed on his brakes and ended up coming off the ground a little and then slamming his bike back down.  He never lost control, really, and he didn't fall off.  But he bent the rim of the back wheel.  So...after some apologizing and some ghetto repair, and after a WAY CUTE guy in the maintenance department told us he had no idea where we could find an allen wrench (he didn't look like the type of guy to even know what that was), I decided to go home, get the bike rack and Robb's car, and come rescue him.  So...I did.  

The whole time, though, Angry Mr. Sun was a-beain' down on my shoulders.  Which were bare.  I sunscreened my face, but...nothing else.  So.  When I got back to save him, we put the bike rack on the car--a feat in and of itself--and we took the bike to the repair shop.  An hour and $15 later, it was back to good.  Hooray!  We went to get ice cream (kind of makes the bike ride pointless), and we came home.

In the time it took to get the bike fixed, get ice cream, and come home...this appeared:

That's not a trick of the light, and yes, I AM holding my laptop over my head to take a photo of my shoulders.  Those red lines?  That would be where my tank top stopped.  Oh yeah...it's way red.  Like...inside of a tomato red.  Sleeping last night was no treat...especially with the thunder that sounded like cars exploding outside the window.  Yikes.

Yeah...lesson to learn here?  Wear sunscreen.

Out

A Weekend of Disappointment...

So, all weekend I was poised and ready for the rapture (note sarcasm). I figured that if I was going, I wouldn't have to finish my shift at work. I had lunch with Robb and kissed him goodbye when he took me back to work, thinking that there was a .000000000000001% chance that the guy was right. The time rolled around...and...we finished up closing the bank. I got home, and Robb said something to the effect of, "Well, we're still here." Hell, I'd forgotten all about the rapture in all the excitement about the bank. So...that was disappointing.

Side note: I'm not really serious about thinking the rapture was going to happen, but you know, there's always that tiny, tiny, tiny thought that says, "What if, for some reason, this guy REALLY knows?" And you think that yes, maybe that was the last time I kissed my boyfriend (that's if you believe that we would be caught up in the rapture at all...). You know it's hooey...but...what if?

That was just the first half.

My sister's graduation and party is next weekend. I'm way excited to see my little sister graduate high school. I might have been more excited that my brother was coming back, since I hadn't seen him in about a year (sorry, sis). I really was just happy that we'd both get to be there for her. Well, I texted him for details, and he said he wasn't coming. SO....that really WAS crushing disappointment. And then he tells me, "Oh, I'll be coming in sometime around mid July." Great. That's when Robb and I are taking our road trip.

So...there was that.

But, on the bright side, I had a great shift at work on Sunday with Sausha. Afterwards, Robb and I didn't get swept away in a tornado. And...sex is always good. So...you know...there's that.

Does anyone know what that rapture guy had to say about Saturday?

Out

Progress?

So, today's run left my feet and calves aching. I think my feet still hurt from Tuesday's run and yesterday's work day in uncomfortable shoes. But I came home not feeling like my lungs were on fire or about to implode. So that's an improvement.

I still don't know how I feel about this whole running thing. I like being outside, and today I got to walk my scuzzy self past some local firemen who were out cleaning the ambulance. I love a feeling of progress, and, compared to my first run, this one was WAY better. I can feel my lungs getting stronger as I work them out like any other muscle. Am I losing weight? Well...kind of. I lost a pound from last week. I'm really only over my weight by about 8 pounds, so...it's not like I have 20 to burn. I wouldn't mind the number if it weren't for my shape. I wouldn't mind adding some in places and taking some off in others. We shall see. I already know my neck has gotten skinnier, because yesterday it wasn't a pain in the neck to button my collar for work.

Har har.

So there's that. Progress. Sort of...

Out

In Which I Get My Town Back...

I had a whole post typed up. Garbage. I'll just say this: the college kids have gone home. I get my town back.

Out

Err...Umm...

What?

There's no reason for this blog. I just thought it'd been a while since I checked in. I'm trying to find the motivation to go running this morning. It's only 52 degrees, but it was 50 a half hour ago...so...it's movin' on up! I think maybe I'll just...go. But I'm going to be running in different shoes. Not my running shoes. Not new running shoes. It's just that Robb and I took a walk last night, and I was in my other shoes. My calves or feet never hurt a bit, so...I thought to myself, "It can't be any worse to run in those shoes, right?" We shall see.

In other news, I have the best boyfriend ever. We're going to see Glee in concert at the beginning of June. Oh, yes.

Out

Dyson...

Yes, the vacuum guy.  I used to think he was a little bit of a silver fox.  But besides that, he's a shrewd business man.  Look at this:

Never loses suction.  You know those words, right?  The vacuums we had were fine, and I never once thought, "Gosh, I hate that this vacuum loses suction."  But this man...this genius...look what he did?  What's the best vacuum out there?  Oh, the Dyson.  Why?  Because it doesn't lose suction like other vacuums.  See what he did there?  Let's try this one:

No blades.  No buffeting.  You may have heard that, too.  This bladeless Dyson fan is the newest thing.  We're told that regular fans make little puffs of air that come off each blade.  It's not smooth.  It's a little puff puff puff that's very annoying.  But with the Dyson fan, there's no buffeting.  It's better.  But...stop a minute.  Have you ever thought to yourself, "Gosh...I wish this fan weren't buffeting me about with its blades going going going,"?  Me either.  

See what he's doing?

He's creating a problem where there really is no problem.  And then?  He's fixing it.  This man is a millionaire.  And we're all puppets.  Think about it.  What other products or ads are creating problems we don't actually have and "fixing" them?

Out

And I Ran...

Iran's SO far away! What?

Today...today I started running. Officially. Sort of. I still need to go get some better shoes. I have my old running shoes from college that weren't even originally mine. SO...that's a big one.

Let me tell you about running. For the first thirty seconds, you feel like the best person in the world. Doubt creeps in at about the 45 second mark. And then after that, it's just trying not to die while staring at your feet to make sure your legs aren't ACTUALLY catching on fire like they feel. Yeah...I think I pushed it a little too hard. But hey, it's something. It was maybe a 15 minute run/walk, which is 5 minutes less than recommended for beginners, but...I'm WAY not in shape, cardiovascularly speaking, anyway.

I've come to the conclusion that people who run are robots. They HAVE to be! Who pushes themselves that one more mile after the first minute feels so terrible?! I mean...I know they started the same place I did. Burning. Choking. Wanting to lie on the next available lawn and be eaten by ants. While I was running, I just felt so bad...I'm 28 years old, and I can't run around the block without feeling like I need to die.

But then...as I rounded the corner and came home, I felt it. That...satisfaction. I did it. I went for a run. I didn't die. And I think I might do it again Thursday. Three days a week for twenty minutes to start. Then? We shall see. It can only get easier from here on out, right? Right? Right?

So...there's that.

Out

F A T...

So, I'm gaining weight. Like...noticeably. Before you ask, no, I'm not pregnant. I promise. It's just...food babies.

Yeah...I've never been one of those, "Oh my god, I can't eat that!" kind of guys. But I think I'm going to have to start making some better choices about food and exercise. I've stopped working out, basically. Well...HAD stopped. This morning I started again. And I even thought about taking a short run. You know what stopped me? I couldn't decide on clothes to jog in. No, seriously. I'm so lame. It all comes down to the socks...

Not that anyone cares. Not that I'm tying to impress anyone with my bedhead jogging. I don't know why I care.

Excuses...excuses...

Hey, don't look at me like that. Yesterday the boy and I took a bike ride. I almost died, since it was 120% uphill (don't ask how that's possible...we live in some kind of M.C. Escher neighborhood or something...) and it was my first ride of the season. But we made it! It was SOMETHING!

So...thinking about taking a run is a big step for me. I hate running. I told myself I can run around the block (it's a big block), and if I feel like still going, then I will. Maybe I will tomorrow. Right now, I have to get ready for work. Where do you put your keys when you jog?

Out

The Rolling Stones...

So, I checked out Exile on Main Street by The Rolling Stones from the library the other day. I have been reluctant to listen to them for a stupid reason.

They're my dad's favorite band. Last I heard (about seven years ago), he was gung-ho in love with them and had been for a long time. He flew to Arizona once to see them in concert. Yup...

So, listening to them sort of seemed like accepting my destiny, like becoming him in one more area. But, honestly, I see why he likes them. And...I like them. Of course, one of the only good things I got from him was his taste in music. So this shouldn't surprise me...

That's all I've got today. Pretty quietsville in my life right now...

Out

About Jury...

I promise this is the last I'll say about this. Maybe.

Jury duty is over. We reached our verdict. We got a free lunch. He got a slap on the wrist, basically. The court system is so slow that the defendant and his ex wife get along now. So the court case was sort of irrelevant, honestly. That's why the judge didn't give him much of a sentence. Thankfully. Because, honestly, determining the guilt of someone isn't too hard with the evidence they give you. It's making everyone else stop looking at all the shit that doesn't matter and focus on the evidence and testimony that they told us to analyze that sucks.

At one point we were arguing over an "FS" at the end of a text message. It doesn't mean anything to anyone. They didn't address it in the trial. So...why are we spending 20 minutes speculating about what it means? One guy just would NOT let it go. But...we got there. I had to lay it out for them at one point. "My opinion about what is harassment doesn't matter. It' the law's opinion that matters, and the definition is right there in black and white. As such, this text message IS harassment under an order of protection. Plain and simple."

That still didn't do it. We had lunch, and when we came back, everyone was in agreement.

On the way in that morning, I got stared at by a HUGE man in a yellow (not orange) jumpsuit, arm and leg cuffs, and a beard. He wouldn't break eye contact. It freaked me out. *shiver*

But it's over. I made $37.50. $47.50 if you count the $10 bill I found the first day. And all-in-all, it was a pretty positive experience. I'd do it again.

Out

Jury duty today, but I found $10! So...I'm even Steven!

Jury Duty...

Yup. I have jury duty this morning at 9:30. I've never had jury duty. I have to report for selection...I hope I don't feel rejected when they send me home. I have the same feeling this morning as I do before a job interview. Ugh.

So, since I'm going to be at jury duty today, here's something to tide you over. I wrote it yesterday at writing group to answer the prompt "If you could ask God one question..."

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I was dead. That I knew. I searched my mind for my final moments and came up with a foggy image of candles. I don’t know. I guess it wasn’t important. But here I was. Heaven. It wasn’t the Ritz. I guess I’m not really allowed to tell you about it...but trust me, you’ll like it when you get here. If you get here. Although to be honest, I haven’t been able to come up with anyone who isn’t here...not that I’ve tried too hard. But...I’m not really allowed to tell you about that.

The thing that was most exciting to me was that I got to have an audience with the big cheese--who isn’t at all like you’re picturing. Unless you’re picturing a giant--never mind. I can’t tell you that, either. But I was thrilled. I got to ask any question I wanted. And it wasn’t like I only got one. I could ask and ask and ask until I was satisfied. But when I got my audience, I was so awed, so in shock, and so happy that my mind sort of went kablooey...like a hive of bees falling out of a rotting tree. I couldn’t get it together, couldn’t make a question materialize. I stood there, agape, something I was sure God had seen before. Apparently you can be embarrassed in Heaven. But all of a sudden it hit me, the question I’d most like to ask.

I opened my mouth, and God said, “You don’t want to know.”

“I think I do,” I replied. “Wait...how do you know what I’m going to ask?”

“I’m God.”

“Riiiight. Sorry. I’m not used to meeting celebrities.”

God laughed. Actually laughed. It was a sound like nothing I’d ever heard. It put me instantly at ease, and I smiled.

“Okay,” God said. “I guess I can tell you. Remember the Crusades?

“Well, I wasn’t there personally, but I know that a lot of terrible things happened in your name.”

“Right. Well...that’s why.”

“Wait...but that was thousands of years ago,” I replied, confused.

“Give or take,” said God.

“So...you’re telling me that the Crusades are the reason that he came to power?”

“Yes.”

“Well...is he here?”

God looked at me. “Not yet.”

“Thank God,” I said. “I’m so sick of Justin Bieber!”

“You’re welcome.”

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