Day 1, Phase 1, Disk 1 - Fail?

I started the P90X last night.  Had I been able to do all the exercises I would probably be dead right now.  Instead, I was not able to do any of the pull ups.  Even with a chair.  I did little halves.  I don't know if I should keep trying to do the pull ups with my body weight or shift to something on the weight machine with a little less weight.

I was able to do some of the pushups, so that is an attainable goal I could reach.  The decline push ups were not an option and the "under the fence" push ups were a disaster.  However, I can see myself getting better at the push ups.  I need to answer the question about the pull ups.

I got a pull up bar from my son to hang in the doorway.

My husband worked out with me, but he chose the weight bench instead of following the DVD.  He's already strong, so it wasn't a big deal for him.  It was still nice that he did it.

P90X - Getting Ready

On Saturday I ran an obstacle course race.  My second.  The first one was Warrior Dash January 2011, this one was Iron Crusader.  I'll try to get a picture added here soon.  I have three months until the next Warrior Dash, so I've decided after recommenation and some YouTube research, I'm going to do the P90X.  The first thing to do is measure and take photographs of yourself.  I've decided I would start here.  I've included some pretty embarassing pictures of myself.  Last time I weighed it was 205.  Here's the pictures:

The Mystery of Le Mystere

I bought a Le Mystere bra.  It's the 9955 Tisha model.  I am a very full 38E.  Finding a bra is about the suckiest thing I have to do, so when it's time, I gravitate toward Bali's minimizers in a 38DDD.  However, I have found that I'm growing when I should be shrinking.  38DDD just don't fit the girls anymore and Bali doesn't have a lot of anything past DDD.  In fact I don't think they have anything.

So last year I bought a Bendon Sport bra in a 38DDD.  It fits really nice, but it's a sports bra and not the sexiest bra on the planet.  It's a very nice bra, though.  My most comfortable bra.  If I didn't have to take out a second mortgage to buy one, I would probably own five.

Back to the Le Mystere and how much I hate buying bras.  I'd seen this model on Opera a while back.  Supposed to be the miracle to end all miracles.  Well.  I liked the look of the Tisha bra.  No one sells LeMystere around here, so I was obligated to an online purchase.  I took a chance and ordered the 38E.  It is a beautiful bra and had the story ended there, it would have been very much worth the slightly under retail price I got.

However, it doesn't end there.  I'm not going to show you pictures of me in the bra.  Let's just say that if you are a big girl with big breasts, do not buy this bra.  Or, at best, try it, before you buy it.  Major spillage out the top!  This bra touts a full coverage for full figures.  Nope.  Not a chance.  It's jiggly, joggly, goop.  My boobs were all over the place.  When I look at the bra, the redeeming factor is the cut at the top.  This bra is very low and wide.  Anybody with anything more than a C probably shouldn't wear this bra.  I am narrow in the shoulders, so the straps were too far out and very uncomfortable.  Tightening the straps only made the bra ride up in the back.  This is NEVER a problem for me.

I have been professionally fitted for a bra many times, so I know what to look for.  This was just a mistake on my part because it's a beautiful well-made bra worth every penny they are asking.  I only suggest big girls skip the lure of the tag when it says "full figure" because it's not.

The "t-shirt" bras feature is outstanding.  If I had more than two thumbs I would put them up.  This is a smooth bra that camouflages all those things that breasts do when we're in t-shirts.  I am sending this bra back.  I will probably look for their version of a bra that come straight up and to the side.

Where to Begin? #4 Getting to Know Me

The last two weeks were pretty traumatic.  It was my parent's 50th wedding anniversary and a family reunion of sorts was scheduled for the following day.  My mom expected 75 people to be at the event.  I was very nervous about seeing people I hadn't seen in as much as 35 years.  People that knew me in another time.  I had no desire to return to this time in my life, but it seemed like it was bearing down on me faster than I was prepared.

I woke up the morning of the party aggitated.  Luckily, my husband just left me alone and let me get ready.  I wore a dress I didn't plan on wearing--another subject--and stuffed myself in a body shaper in hopes of hiding the extra 75 pounds I was carrying.  I let my hair curl and wore matching sandals.  I felt old, fat and ugly.

The upside of all this is only 43 people showed and none of them were "old friends" from my past.  My favorite aunt and uncle were there with my cousin.  We spent both days hanging around with them.

The irony of the very arduous day is that my mom said she didn't enjoy feeling like she was on display and this whole weekend was her idea!  Whatever.

Where to Begin? #3 Fitness

I signed up for a new obstacle course race, Iron Mudder.  It's 3.5 miles and scheduled for October 22.  I did a lot of walking while I was out of town--which I will talk about in a later blog--and when I get over this rediculous cold, I plan on returning to the weights, treadmill and doing some other things to improve my performance over the next two months.

I noted when I walked while on vacation that I am getting stronger and my balance is much better than it was a year ago.  Seems like I could take the stairs at my parents two story home much more confidently and we walked four miles in some very hilly terrain.  A was able to break a comfortable sweat and work some of my large muscle groups.  I am returning to my original plan for the treadmill to be able to jog four miles by the race.

I'm encouraged by my performance while on vacation and I'm looking forward to the next two months.  I will definitely keep you posted as to my progress.

Books and Movies: The Girl Who Played With Fire

Among everything else that's going on, I managed to finish Stieg Larson's The Girl Who Played With Fire.  I definitely give this a thumbs up.  Before I reached the end of the book I found myself looking for the last book in the series.  This book was much better written than the first book, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo.  With the first book, I had to watch the movie to fully understand what had happened and I read it faster than the second.  It took me a little longer to "get around" to finishing the second book.  It was much easier to follow what was happening and I thought the suspense at the end was much more meritous than the first book.

A few twists concerning Salander's family might have seemed a little contrived or manipulated to me, but that's the beauty of fiction.  Getting the reader to accept and I definitely accepted! 

This book is out on paperback now, so it's pretty cheap in the old style paperback--something like $7.99.  I recommend the Tattoo book first because that's the way I am, but if you want to start with Fire, I don't think it will make that much of a difference.

Where to begin? #1 Back to School

I can't believe it has been so long since I posted something.  Anything.  Then, the last time I posted was this whiny paragraph about how terrible my life has been.  The truth is, it has been challenging.  It's been more challenging than is probably fair, but life is not fair.

I switched schools.  I don't know if I posted it here, but my school lost its regional accreditation.  I had decided to stay because it was a technical school and I didn't care about the regional accreditation.  Well, the more I read, the more I realized it was important and like so many other things, I decided to change somewhat on a whim and found that transferring and applying for a federal loan was so much easier than I thought it would be.

My first class in my new school starts tomorrow, so I guess I can post about it after it begins.  I did peek at the roster and found 17 names on the list.  This is a difference in that the most people that were ever in my classes was eight.  I know that I feel a sense of excitement I did not feel before.  I am happy that this school has a real campus and real teachers and even though this sounds silly.  Real clothes.  Isn't that silly?

I had originally thought paying for my schooling as I went was for the best.  I could only afford "less than part-time".  I realized that this was going to take me another five years after already going for two years just to make it through the end of my sophomore year.  Now it will be two years and I will be done.  It is going to be MUCH more expensive than I had originally anticipated by about $10,000, but I will be done sooner and I can hopefully think about a graduate degree.

Rough Week

I wanted to check in.  This has been a terrible week for me.  Lots of frustrations and disappointments.  I don't know what to do and the people that should care, don't seem to care.

Petty World: The Hot Water Heater and A Job Well Done

I alluded in another blog about our hot water heater dripping from the pipes for quite some time.  Before that, it was dripping on the floor and soaking the carpet that is on the floor in front of our washer and dryer and side door.

One that floor was a pile of boxes waiting to go to recycling.  (This is not a problem.  Sometimes I wait a little long to go, but it never piles up too much.)  In front of that pile of boxes was a box of fabric from a job I did.  The plan was to go through the scraps to see if there were any pieces left that might be salvageable for another project.

So as you might have guessed the boxes and the fabric became a smelly mess I was vaguely aware of, but inside the box the fabric was in plastic bags so I wasn't concerned about the fabric at the moment.

When my husband finally fixed the leak he just walked away from it.  The job was done.  He left everything right were it was including the bucket of water under the hot water heater, the ruined boxes and the box of fabric.

The first of the month is when I insist the recycling go, so I went to grab the boxes and realized that the job repairing the hot water heater had been left exactly where it stood when the damage was done.  Now, I will not sit here at the computer and try to tell you that this is not my fault.  The the dripping pipes were unknown to me.  I knew about the drip and I knew about the damage.  I guess I thought maybe this time he'd do whole job.  Apparently not.

So I picked up the soggy boxes and bucket of water.  Straightened up the area that had been shoved around while he did his repair work and opened up the box of fabric.  This is when I realized the water had soaked through the bags and onto the fabric.  This was $13 and up per yard fabric.  I shouldn't have left it on the floor.  I shouldn't have assumed it would be safe until I could get to it, but I did.  I took it out to the garage and assumed it would be safe until I could go through the scraps.

Now it wreaks of  mold and sour polyester and I'm not so sure if I want to take the time to try to salvage it.  Another waste of money because a job was only half done.  What am I supposed to do?  I can do everything around here.  I really can do it all.  I've done it all in the past, but I don't want to anymore.  It's time for him to be a homeowner, father and most of all a husband and he's fighting me on this.  I'm tired and I don't know what to do.

So what is a job well done?  A job well done is a job done where no one can tell you did the job.  Everything is put away, cleaned up, wiped off, etc.  If I have to come behind you after something like that and pick up, clean up, haul away, or whatever, than you haven't helped, you've hurt.

The Things I Do a.k.a. "Why I Won't Get a Full Time Job"

I have a relatively short list of things I do every day no matter what day of the week it is--no matter what my plans for the day are.

This comes to my mind because we went away for part of the day yesterday.  We left around 9:30 and go home about 6:00 so it wasn't a huge day away, but it was enough to interrupt the usual flow of things around here.

When I wake up I immediately do a handful of things that aren't necessarily all in the same order, but I do eventually get around to all these things by around 10:30:

scoop litter
feed/water outside cats
water plants
clean up kitchen/dining room area
think about lunch/dinner
ride my bike or walk on treadmill
general pick up of clutter
wash/dry/fold a load of clothes if necessary
load/run/unload dishwasher
Floors vacuum/"mop" -- I use quotes because I use a Hoover FloorMate

This does not include the things I do, weekly, monthly and so on.  There are many things I do regularly that take up other portions of my day, but that's not what this is about.

Instead I got up yesterday and did none of those things.  I toddled off with my husband for a day of whimsy.  When I got home, it was all waiting for me.  Dishes, clutter, cat poo, no exercise.  My husband on the other hand had nothing on his plate for the evening.  I told him to study his Sunday School lesson until he felt comfortable.  I had some things I could do and then we could run over to Wal-Mart to pick up some things I'd been putting off for quite some time.

Warning:  Approaching Side Note!

I desperately need something to catch the sand by the back door.  My family all but refuses to remove their shoes when they come inside.  When I say something about it, there is much eye rolling and an effort is made under my watchful eye, but soon there are mountains of sand piled up around the back door.

The other day, I actually saw my husband walk over to our beautiful and irreplaceable tropical print area rug and WIPE HIS BARE FEET on it!

I calmly asked him what he was doing.

"I felt something on my foot." He said.

"Did it feel anything like sand from outside and litter from the leak in the garbage bag you carried through here this morning?"  I said.

"I wasn't wiping my feet."  He said.

"That's funny.  Because this--"  I made the motion of wiping my feet on the same spot of carpet he'd just wiped his feet on.  "--looks like wiping ones feet on a carpet."

He didn't seem to care or be bothered by me pointing it out to him.  Where did this man grow up?  A grass hut?

So I made much about getting out the Floormate and doing the kitchen floor.  It was 10:30 at night.

So I am going to buy some indoor/outdoor carpet squares to try to remedy this 10 year old problem once and for all.  One for outside and one for inside.

He studied his Sunday School lesson for about an hour.   I walked on my treadmill, poured myself a glass of wine and sat down in front of the TV.  It was after 8:00 and I'd already had two glasses of wine and was eyeing a Red Velvet cake on the counter when he finally asked me if I wanted to go to Wal-Mart.

I said no.  One more night on a 10 year old problem wouldn't hurt anything.  That's how we roll.

So he eventually moved to the bed with my laptop to look at coins and I watched another hour of TV until I was in such a stupor from Red Velvet cake and Black Swan Reisling I went to bed.  He turned off the light and continued looking at coins well into the night.

Everything I didn't do yesterday was waiting for me today including a new day's worth of everything on that list.  I was up around 5:30 unable to sleep so hit the computer and looked at urban legends for several hours.  He came out around 8:30, ready to go to Sunday School.  He read through his lesson--again--and dressed for church.

He wants to go to a gun show with our son.  My son is very much into guns and I looked at it as an opportunity for them to spend some time together.  Off they went.  Three days had now gone by and he had not done a single thing to pick up behind himself or to maintain our home.  This is how he is.  If he has absolutely nothing else to do, he will pick from a myriad of possibilities and that will be his contribution for sometimes as much as a week or more.  Sometimes his "help" is nothing more than a hindrance because he leaves a wake of mess behind himself.

I'm still waiting for him to clean his mess from fixing the hot water heater over a week ago.  Hot water heater had been leaking slowly for a very long time.  A bucket--full of dryer lint--placed under it finally filled.  He just went outside and poured the water in the grass.  Plastic bag and all right there by the side door.  Where did this man grow up?

So, you still may ask, what does this have to do with me getting a full time job?  Because in my 25 years of marriage I've had a few full time jobs and I've had numerous part-time jobs.  The last full time job I had was a perfect opportunity.  I sat my husband and my then high school aged son down and told them about it.  I told them I would need help.  I wasn't going to do everything and life would cease to exist the way it had.  We'd have quite a bit of extra money, but all those things come with trade-offs.  Both of them agreed to help with keeping the house clean and pitching in with other things like meals and maintenance.  I was not going to work a full-time job and come home to everything I did around the house.

They agreed.

As you might have guessed, it didn't last.  Within a few weeks--not even months--their worlds were back to the way they always were.  I was working a 50 hour week, still teaching privately and managing to do all those things around the house.  I was worn out and burned out.  My dream of getting the same respect for a long day at work was shot down.  I just didn't understand why I didn't get the same respect when my work day ended--er, seldom ended.

I have made three attempts to work at a full time or part time job and have never got the respect a man receives from a day of work.  No matter what it was I have done, it was never as valuable as what my husband did.  There was one brief period of time that between the full time job I was working and teaching at home, I made more money than my husband.  I remember his attitude changing.  There was no way I was making more money than him.  I showed him the figures. 

He had to believe.

I had to quit. 

I couldn't keep up the pace.

I probably haven't done a very good job of explaining myself here, but I believe that's not the point here.  The point is figuring out what my next step is to be.  Where I am to go next and what I am to do next.

For now, the day I get a full time job is the day I leave my husband for good and never look back for an instance.

Well, the house is empty for a few hours and I've got to get to the things I do on the "first" of each month, but that's another list another way that I contribute around here that goes, for the most part, unnoticed until a day like yesterday.

Never On Sunday: The Church Newsletter and Blended Services

The church newsletter arrived this week.  I scanned through it.  Seems egos are still headlining.  I remember when I was working for the church, I wrote lots and lots of articles.  Long ones, shorts ones.  I wanted the church to know about the things that were going on.  I don't know if it just came naturally, or if that's the kind of person I am, but I seldom mentioned myself and my efforts in the articles.  However, it was still a potpourri of what I wanted the congregation to know.  What I wanted them to know.

I would say a strong majority of the articles this month were me, me, me, look at me.  I'm doing this, I did that.  We did this, we did that.  Amazingly enough, the pastor's little third of a page article was pretty much devoid of the me statements.  There was congratulations for a great Vacation Bible School, a mention of summer ending soon and the changes to be made to the "11:00 service"--oh wait.  There it is.  Subtle as it may be.  There's the me in this.  He's wanted a contemporary service from day one, only this is about a "blended" service.  Perhaps a compromise?  It's hard to find decent musicians that will commit to every Sunday for free, isn't it?  At any rate, sounds like he's finally gotten his way.  What has it taken?  Seven years?  Now that's a patient man.

Blended service.  What a recipe for disaster.  Talk about riding the fence.  Blended service is just a way to get that contemporary feel without having to pay a band.  Don't even get me started on "praise" bands.  Uggh.  I hate blended services.  No wait, I hate "praise" bands even more.  These bands are usually full of soloists and prima donnas that never really quite made it any where but church.  I'm smiling here because my name could easily be on that list, but I don't play in church for free and I don't have an enormous personal agenda.

These blended services always end up coming off like amateur hour.  I can guarantee it will come off like a high school talent show except there won't be any high schoolers because our church doesn't support it's tiny little youth program.  It will be a disaster.  When a church tries to follow the world instead of the other way around, it's wrong, wrong, wrong.

So my thought here that the newsletter was predominantly about egos holds truer than I had planned.  I'd actually planned on pointing out that the pastor had actually managed to not talk about himself.  But, in a convolluted way, he still did.

Take a look at your newsletter.  See how much of it is actually news and how much of it is egos spouting off all the wonderful things "I" and "we" did and are going to do.  Look at how relevent it is.  I dispassionately read mine this week and for the first time realized that it has got to be one of the biggest wastes of time and money the church has.  You guys want to save some money?  Cut the budget?  Cut out the newsletter.  I guarantee you that anyone that actually reads it already knows the information because the only people that read it are the ones that submitted the articles.

Woman On Top

I posted this article a few days ago, thought better of it, pulled it, and now, well, I think I'm going to post it anyway.  I've got no one I can talk to.  I've got to begin to heal myself, so it means assuming a little anonymity here and stepping out on faith that someone will read, take the time to get to know me and help me.

So I'll open with a huge WARNING:

This blog talks about old married sex.  Not glamorous, not cosmopolitan, not even imaginative sex.  Old . . . married . . . sex.  So if you don't want to read about my struggles to understand my husband and myself, you definitely shouldn't read any further.  If you're the slightest bit curious about someone else's sex life besides your own, this may be the spot for you.

I've known for a little while that my husband needs a mom--a mother.  Someone to think he's wonderful no matter what he does.  Farts and all.  Someone that pretty much lets him do whatever he wants when he wants as long as he doesn't get in the way.  Someone he can wear down until he has everything just the way he wants it.

Hmmm.

Pretty much what he had from his own mother. 

She thinks he's wonderful.

I know better.

So a week ago in my ongoing effort to be more sexually overt I suggested we have sex.  I suggested it the same way last Friday.  In plenty of time to get showers and smell good for each other.  (I told you this was old married sex)  Last Friday my suggestion was greeted with a disgruntled sigh and the suggestion we make it quick because he has to get up early in the morning.  So this Friday, knowing he didn't have to get up as early, I suggested sex again.  He seemed all too quick to point out that oh yes, indeed, he did have to get up in the morning and if that's what I wanted to do, we should probably get started.

It just didn't set well with me.  What is going on here?  That is two Fridays in a row he's seemed disinterested in sex.  What man turns down sex?

So Sunday, I did some things I know he likes and we did eventually end up having sex.  I was the definitely the aggressor and the instigator.  I think it was more because there was nothing else to do.  If any sport had been on, I would have been out of luck.

What you have to realize is we went 18 months without having sex.  That's a year and a half.  When I mentioned how long it had been, he denied it.  When I pointed out the truth, he still didn't seem to want to believe it.  There have been many times when we've gone three, four and five months without sex and I was sure it was my fault--now I'm not so sure.  Certainly other couples were having sex more often than once or twice a year?

I think he wants it when he wants it.  On his timing and the position he wants.  I don't get  a say.  I don't think he likes it when I take the lead or suggest it.  I think he wants me to be a tramp in bed, writhing and moaning and getting so much pleasure from his two or three things he does (every time)--but only when he wants.  On his terms.  I think I've been a fool thinking that we'd have sex more if I suggested sex more.  He doesn't want it if I instigate it.  He doesn't want it if I'm the initiator.  Oh, wait, I can be the initiator if he wants me to be the initiator.  What a mess.  I'm only supposed to like and want it when he wants me to like it and want it.  Last but not least.  I'm not supposed to reject his advances.  If he gets the slightest idea that I might say no--which I never do--he won't suggest any sex.  He shuts down.

So my prologue to this is that I offered him the "other" on Wednesday night.  I'm embarrassed to type it, so I will call it the "other".  I offered that two nights ago.  He hopped into bed.  The "other" is usually pretty quick because--well--I know what to do.  I asked him if he was clean.  He says he thought I was kidding.  I said I wasn't.  I half expected him to jump out of bed and get a quick shower to freshen up.  Instead he says he's not clean, he'll definitely take a shower later in the evening so he'll be clean.  He promised to think about it all day Thursday and would be ready on Thursday night.

Hmmm.  Again, what is going on here?

As you can tell my looking at the timeline here, It's Friday--again.  I did not offer the "other".  Instead, he stayed up until 10:45 on the computer.  I'll admit there were some other things going on in the house at that time, but there have been quite a few nights in the last three weeks he as stayed up until 11:00 reading or on the computer, but he tells me we better make it quick because he has to get up in the morning.  He gets up the same time every morning.

For him, there is only on and off.  He won't do anything sexual unless he can be absolutely sure beyond a shadow of a doubt we are going to have sex.  He's told me so.  No making out, no fooling around, period.  What the heck is that?

I'm not going to go the rest of my life having sex on his schedule--on his terms.  That's a crock.

I do want to add here for those that may be thinking it's because I've let myself go, or I've gotten fat or whatever junk you might fill your own mind with.  I've been a size 16/18 for years and years.  Before that I was a size 13/14 for the early part of our relationship.  I was a size 10 when we got married.

I was 20.

I've always been a big girl by society's standards.  He knew that.  I think I carry it well and with confidence.  If he had a problem with my weight, he probably wouldn't have been attracted to me to begin with--24 years ago.

I can't spend anymore time on this topic.  I'm frustrated.  Not because of what I've written here, but because it symbolizes everything our lives have been.

Why Didn't I Feel Anything?

A sibling was in a car accident last night.  I read it on facebook.  Why didn't I feel anything?  Why wasn't I concerned?  Could it be as simple as the fact that she must be OK or she wouldn't be posting stuff on facebook?  I don't know.  It bothers me that I don't care the way other people seem to.  Her friends were more interested in her post than I was.  Her friends were more interested in her tragedy than I was.  Should I want to be there for her?  Shouldn't I want  to call her and see if she's well--if I can do anything?  Instead I just logged out and didn't give it a second thought until I decided to do a little blogging.  What happened between us?

I remember taking a bat to her in late elementary school.  I gave her a bloody nose.  She laid down on the floor in the bathroom.  My mother didn't do anything.  I didn't get punished.  I don't remember even being afraid of being punished.  I remember my mother saying she had it coming.  What had she been doing to me?

The was another time I had the same sister by the hair when I came home to find her wearing something of mine without asking.  I was sitting on her and according to my mother I was banging her head on the floor.  Again, I don't remember getting punished and I don't remember a big deal over the whole thing.  I remember my mother saying she knew this day would come.

I had no memory of it, but one time, this same sister apologized to me for something I couldn't remember.  Apparently, my mother had baked and iced a cake and she had been told to keep her fingers out of it.  Well, like all small children, that's just an invitation.  She swiped the side of the cake and ate the icing.  When my mother found the trangression, my sister lied and told her that I had done it.  I got the spanking.  In my house spankings were not tools for discipline.  It was always crazy when it was time to spank us.  There was a lot of crying and begging and more crying.  To this day, I wonder what the neighbors thought.

Fitness: Two Hills and My Sit Bones

I decided to mix up my ride a little and take the two small hills down a long straight road near my house.  I don't care too much for the road because it's a little more busy than the others and means cars going around me or approaching me on blind hills.  However, it just felt like something I wanted to do.  There are two more small hills I can practice riding before I go to North Carolina--again.

A lot of my strength and stamina began returning toward the end of the week.  I made it to the end of the street I was riding on, so that was a total of 22 minutes of constant peddling at a pretty stiff pace.

I bought a Terry bike saddle probably about a year ago.  It seemed like the thing to do.  My saddle was making my "lady bits" go numb and my butt hurt like you can't believe--for days.  I decided on the Terry saddle because it got pretty rave reviews.  I do have to admit it is comfortable, but I've been forever toughening my sit bones.  This saddle is one of those little seats--it doesn't look exactly like this one--but it is the flx version.  I think mine has been discontinued since then.  I really like it.  Of course my rear hangs over, but I'd have to be a stick figure for that not to happen.  Some women don't like the hang over, so they pick bigger saddles.  They are doing themselves an injustice.

This is not the exact seat.  I got this picture from
the website.  It has taken some getting used to,
but I can feel my sit bones getting tougher.

I did a lot of reading and looking around.  People really do seem to like these the Terry brand.  I like the idea that the saddle doesn't conform.  My other one that came with the bike mashed with riding and became uncomfortable.  Thus, the numb "lady bits".  I think the pressure points were too narrow--like for a man?

This Terry lands just right.  I have one spot on my anatomy that still gets to tingling after about 20 minutes of riding, but a quick adjustment to sit back a little bit and everything seems to get right.

I'd like to work up to taking both the hills twice with a long straight away in between before I go back up to North Carolina.  Let's see where I am in another week or two.

Books and Movies: Ugly Chicks Don't Sell Tickets

I love movies.  I really love movies.  Now don't get me wrong there are a few movies that come and go and I'm not really interested in them like the movies that seem to hatch a string of movies just like the parent movie.  Eh, not so much.  I'm also growing weary of the "lovable loser/reluctant hero".

About "lovable losers".  For Hollywood, in most cases this guy would never get within two states of his costar.  He's scruffy, accident prone, goofy, too skinny, a font of not so funny quips and she's just plain drop dead, coma-inducing hot.  At the very least, they kiss by the end of the movie.  For him, at the greatest, it's a romp in the hay.  This would never happen.  That's why they keep doing this.  Girls think it's romantic and guys, well, they dig the idea that the goofy one--he one just like them--gets the fantasy girl.

Why does the quirky girl star get a guy just as much a loser as she is?  This really ticks me off.  Think about it.

So there are a few TV shows coming out that have quirky loser girls, but their hot.  They just have a few social inadequacies that the next guy that comes into their life will surely cure.  Then thanks to their room mate or next boyfriend, they'll be all fixed up.

Whatever.

What about the girl who is a lovable loser and couldn't get within two states of her hot, sexy, male, costar?  When does that happen?  I don't think it will.  Ugly chicks don't sell movie seats.

Winter of Our Discontent: Has It Been a Year Already?

On the way home from a trip to JoAnn Fabrics, my husband mentioned that it had been a year since we'd been up to see my parent's for fourth of July.  For me, it is a much more monumental year.  It has almost been a year since I decided to end the "affair".  How do I feel?  Strange.  I feel strange.  I look at the calendar and know that a year ago I was ready to do something so wrong with someone so wrong.  I've changed this year.

While we were on the way home we decided to visit a little wing place.  It had been years since we'd been in.  I was feeling carefree until I saw the car.  A car I knew to be his.  To seal the deal it even had a sticker on it from the university he went to.  I had an easy time believing that he was in there and tried to swallow the irony that we would be discussing the year past and I would have the unfortunate task of enjoying my meal with the man I chose and the man I rejected in the same restaurant.

It would be the first time I'd see him in over a year.  What would I do?  Would I acknowledge him?  Ignore him?

It was surprisingly empty when we walked in.  I was able to scan the guests and tables quickly.  I didn't see him, but that didn't mean he wasn't in a booth I couldn't see from my vantage point.  I felt ugly and fat.  There was a time there I'd felt confident that if I was to see him he'd "see what he lost" by being a jerk.  He'd said I was fat.  He'd said that it didn't matter--that it was the "whole package".  I wondered what package he was referring to.  I am five years older than him and fat.  I think it was the "easy target" package.

We took the second booth we walked by and I continued to scan the restaurant as subtly as I could.  I checked the bar area, the big tables the small booths.  He was not in this restaurant.  We ordered and I waited for him to come out of the restroom or from a corner I couldn't see.

Finally, I saw a young family leave the restaurant and approach the little SUV with the college sticker in the window.  She had a tiny one holding her hand and the the man was definitely not him.  Definitely.  I breathed a sigh of relief.

Even though I know I went my whole life here without meeting him, I know that someday I am going to see him again and someday all those things I said and did are going to flood back.  The only thing I can hope for is that when that day comes I will be ready and feel confident in my decision.

Mental Messages: Picture From the Past

A picture a sibling posted on facebook has me thinking--a lot.  I'm about 3 or 4 years old, it is Christmas and I am disappointed.  Plainly and clearly disappointed.  Meanwhile another sibling--not the one that posted the photo.  Is in the bottom corner of the photo looking happy and satisfied.  I am disappointed.

I also notice that I am undeniably chunky.  A round face, round belly and chubby hands.  I've seen pictures of myself as a little girl many times and noticed that my early childhood years were chubby years.  I slimmed down by the time I was in late elementary school, but not enough to open the doors to opportunity.

I remember now the lisp I had as late as 3rd or 4th grade.  I remember the teacher pointing it out to my mother and my mother being surprised to hear I had a lisp.  I clearly had a lisp.  I also remember the day it was discovered I would wear glasses for the rest of my life.  My mother and I were riding around looking for an address.  She asked me to tell her the name of a street and I couldn't see it.

I put all these things together and I think.  I think about how I must have been to my fellow classmates.  Small but just a little chubby.  Glasses.  Unruly blonde hair.  How these things add up, I don't know, but it's a possible portal into why I am the way I am.

I guess seeing that disappointment on my face at such a tiny little girl made me realize that I have a lifetime of unmet expectations.  That little moment in time says so much to me about what I need to do to change what time I do have left on this earth.

Let's Get Organized: Not #3 A Surprising Outcome

Two nights ago I got the urge to clean my kitchen cabinets.  I couldn't sleep.  I cleaned.  I only wish I'd taken some pictures for you.  The whole thing started when my coffee maker made a mess all over my counter.  It ran under the spice rack and the George Foreman Grill and the Olive decanter and the vitamins.  What a mess!  As I was moving this stuff to clean under it I realized it had been too long since I'd wiped any of it off.  Everyting had hair, cobwebs and just plain ol' dust in a healthy--or unhealthy--layer all over.

Let me say I use Windex for everything.  EVERYTHING.  Windex works on grease buildup like nothing else.  So I started spraying everything and wiping it down and that brings me back to the whole reason I decided to do the kitchen.

The thing about this time around is I'm going to be taking my time and really considering my needs for the future.  I'm going be done with school in a few years and those years will be going by quickly.  Do I want to be fooling with all this crap when I'm ready to start my new life?  No.  So to me it doesn't matter how organized it is, if I don't need it, it's that much less I have to worry about organizing--or keeping organized.



This is my "ingredients" cabinet now.  It's next  to the stove
 where I can reach it and even though you can't see here,  I
moved the sweet stuff for baking to the left and the spices for
 cooking to the right.



This cabinet was so full I could see anything.
Now it hold only breakfast, pastas and sauces,
and legumes.



This cabinet has all the "ready to eat" foods in it.
I have a blind spot on the far left.  I put the over-
abundance of plastic silverware there with a big
red arrow to remind me it's there.




This is the last cabinet in the kitchen.  It seemed like a great
place to store medicines.  (I went through a Metamucil phase)
My best wine glasses and rarely used tea cups are on the top
shelf.  I need to drink more tea when I have company.




This is the to the right of the "ready to eat"
cabinet.  It's drinks and snacks.

 This may not look like it's organized like a professional might come in and do, but what I see here is about half what was here and I can see it all to find it and use it.  We were wasting way too much food and space.  I still have the other half of the kitchen to go.  That's the pots and pans and under the sink.  I already took a great deal of the contents of these cabinets to charity last year, so this will just be a matter of going back through it and straightening it up.

Fitness: 20 poles

I've been back riding my bike for about two weeks.  I ride 20 telephone poles past the point I got to on the very first day.  I have felt a little sluggish these two days after feeling pretty good the end of last week and into the weekend.  I took my bike on one of my husband's presure washing jobs so I could ride the neighborhood.

There's a nice road that leads out to the highway.  I rode the highway for a few minutes then headed back.  That ride was about 25 minutes.  I wanted to make it worth my while.

My weight has been as low as 204 and as high as 208 this week.  The trend on the graph for the last 21 days shows an increase in my overal weight.  That's a little more disappointing that I care to dwell on.

I am still drinking my 128 ounces of water each day and an occasional unsweet tea.  However, this weekend was a fail.  I drank a diet soda, tea with sugar in it and dessert.  Maybe that's why I weighted 208 on Sunday?  I'm shrugging here because I don't know.

I got back on my weight lifting regime yesterday for a Monday, Wednesday, Friday plan.  It's amazing how quickly it's lost.  Supposedly though, once it's been there it only takes 50 percent as much effort to get it back.  Does that mean that the second time around it's really only 25 percent as much effort as the original time or does that just count against the last time?  Ah well, at any rate, it appears I'm back to exercising and it feels good.

Fitness Tuesday: I Know It's Not Tuesday, but . . .

Two things are happening.  I've gotten my bike ride back up to about 15 minutes of pretty vigorous peddling.  I feel a tightening in my core!  I really do.  I'm not doing anything else but riding my bike right now, so that has to be it.  The balance required to ride must be doing something for my core.  I'm excited about this discovery.

Second, I discovered by my treadmill is not broken.  The problem is, it's not designed for running.  The fact that it can go  6 mph does not mean it can do a sustained 6 mph.  The little motor is only intended for walking and light running.  So I thought, hey, I wonder if I was to just plug it in, if it would work?  So I did.  I plugged it in and it worked.  I have not gotten on it to see if it will run with me on it, but whatever was wrong with it when it stopped cold has fixed itself.  My husband says it may have some kind of inner breaker to protect the motor.  I'm going to get on it this evening.

Let's Get Organized: Not! #2

I decided to post a bunch of picures of my messy messy house and what I'm up against as I begin to go room by room and get rid of stuff I don't need.  There won't be a great deal of words here just pictures.  I will probably repost most of them as I work my way through the house, but here they are:

The garage:

My bedroom:

The bathroom:

Fitness Tuesday: Riding My Bike

Well, I'm back riding my bike.  I started slow--like starting over--and it sucks to think I was riding 10 miles three times a week and jogging between.  I just don't know how I let myself get so messed up--so fat and gooey.

Next month, it will be a year I've been trying anything and everything to increase my cardio.  Little goals, big goals, no goals.  Programs, ideas, rewards.  I just don't get it.  I am the exact same weight within a few pounds that I was when I started.  I still can't wear my wedding ring.  My face is still chubby.  Meanwhile, women around me are losing weight in their 40s and looking sexy.  I am just pudgy me.  I want to give up and accept it, but I know that giving up will make whateve I do have turn to goo.  I know it will happen because as soon as I stopped runnining and riding, my gut returned and my waist began to pudge.

I guess this is just not a good day for a blog entry.

At any rate, I weighted 204.4 this morning and rode my bike for 20 minutes.  I snacked on some old Easter candy which I am going to throw out today.  I am having company on Friday and would really like to have a piece of chocolate trifle more than I want that Easter candy.

Let's Get Organized: Not! #1

Today, I am introducing a new addition to my family of labels:

"Let's Get Organized:  Not!" 

I've decided I don't want to get organized.  I think getting "organized" in most cases--not all-- is a huge waste of time.  What needs to happen is folks need to realize that there is a lot of stuff they are doing because their parents did, or because they think they have to, or any number off reasons.  What if we had so little stuff that we didn't need to get organized? 

What if it was enough just to put it away?

For example, I stopped organizing my personal files.  To put it simple, I have a basket on the counter next to the phone.  Everything I might possibly think is something, goes in that basket.  In July and January I go through the papers.  If they are still important to me, I put them all in an accordian file.  I don't read each piece of paper.  I don't mark them "received".  I don't do any of that.  I just put them in a file and put them away.  Right now, "away" is in a box on the floor in the TV room, but I plan to change that in the next month and a half.  I think you get the picture.

I used to put everything in a file cabinet with marked tabs for all the members of the family, all the things we own like cars and boats.  Each year I purged them and moved them to a well marked accordian file for that "just in case" moment that hasn't come.  I just don't see the point in that anymore.  It has been six years since I stopped obsessing about personal files and I have yet to return to any of those accordian files on the floor in the TV room.  When I get there, I am going to be moving them to a less obvious place.

A few things I have been putting off, and really need to do are getting ClosetMaids for the rest of the closets.  Years ago, we did the closet in our room.  There was no kit for my size closet the way I wanted it, so I bought one as close to the dimensions as I could and my darling husband fixed it to fit.  He didn't like me very much at the time, but when it was done, we both agreed it was worth the trouble.

I hope that in the future weeks, I can talk about different places in my house that I have "organized" and that I plan on "organizing".  I'm going to include some before/after shots as well, so this should be a pretty exciting series.  I have a four bedroom, two bath house with a two car garage and all the crap that goes with living somewhere for over ten years.  I'll document the progress here as much as I can.

Back To School: A- in Basic Applied Calculus

I checked my grade last night and got an A-.  It was a tough class.  I had to hire a tutor.  He was a smart kid just finishing his first year at college as an engineering major.  He will go on to be a very wealthy man, I'm sure.  Meanwhile, I plug away at my classes.  I have 60 credits left.  That's 20 courses and about 5 more years of this.  I will be 50 years old when I get done.  That doesn't sound good.

Fitness Tuesday: Another Bust?

Two weeks have gone by and I've done very little exercising or watching what I eat.  When I got back from vacation I weight 207.5 pounds.  My heaviest has been 213 and I didn't feel as gross as I feel now.  I've started drinking more water and with my treadmill broken have started riding my bike again.  It's a totally different set of muscles.  I didn't realize it when I was doing the running/riding and weight training.  Now that it's been a good two weeks or so since I've done anything with running, my muscle groups feel tired and fatigued even after a short ride.  I've got to re-toughen up my sit bone area as well.  Seems like the older I get, the faster it goes.  Aargh.

I watched an episode of Extreme Makeover.  The one where he spends a year encouraging the person to exercise and eat right.  That was motivating.  I also saw this lady online that lost 200 plus pounds by just eating right and getting out and moving.  That was more motivating because I know some guy coming to my door to adopt me for a year is not going to happen.

It's back on the bicycle tonight and salmon, rice and a veggie for dinner.  We'll see about my "Extreme Makeover".

Back to School: "Basic" Applied Calculus--"I learned it from YouTube"

This is a tough class.  There is nothing basic about it.  I have been consistently behind for the last four days and as usual, there is only 10 days left in the class.  I'm going to try to stay up late tonight and do some work, but I've been having a tough time staying awake late into the wee hours of the morning like I have in the past.  It just messes me up.  I guess that's one of those ways to know I'm no spring chicken.

For the class, I'm in the middle of velocity.  It's not even really the middle.  I'm behind, so I've just started reading the chapter and looking at the videos.  I tell you, YouTube has been a life saver for almost all these math classes.  I have been able to find something for all of them.  I have found the most help from PatrickJMT.  His explanations are a little more down to earth than the teacher/professor format.  The MIT ones.  Holy smokes, I don't see how those kids get anything out of that nonsense.  All that writing and babbling.  No body asks questions.  They're either super super smart (yes) or they do a lot of self study and tutoring.  Those professors are making a decent chunk of change to go on and on about the same thing year after year . . . but then I think they are there to do research and stuff.  The lectures are one of those necessary evils so they can keep their spot at the school and fulfill their own personal agenda.  A least that's what I think.  I don't know that for sure.

Back To School: Basic Applied Calculus

I haven't written a back to school entry in about two months.  That C++ class was pretty traumatic.  I'm two weeks into what is being called Basic Applied Calculus.  To me, it's like a purgatory between Pre-Calculus, Statistics and Calculus I.

I wasn't supposed to need any more maths.  I was supposed to be done, but my Academic Advisor informed me I needed this particular class as a pre-req.  That's not how I understood it when I decided to drop Calculus I at the community college.  If I'd know this class was waiting just around the corner for me, I think I would have kept the one at the community college.

So far it's going OK.  I've made two 100s but they don't seem earned.  The concepts were nothing more than a freakish blend of College Algebra, Pre-Calculus and Elementary Statistics.  This week was a little tougher.  The first assignment I turned in kind of knowing it probably wasn't right, I just didn't know what else to do.  Well, turns out it wasn't even close to what the isntructor wanted.

That has been one of my biggest problems from day one.  Figuring out what the instructor wants and customizing it to the assignment.  In this class, sometimes we can make up our own statistics and sometimes we can't.  Sometimes they don't want an actual answer and sometimes there's a number out there we're just supposed to know.  It's frustrating, but I'll figure it out.

Fitness: My Treadmill Died

I was running a great run.  Yes, I was actually running at 6 mph for a minute with the 90 minute brisk walk interval.  I had just broken a sweat and the thing quit.  I mean it just quit.  It quit so fast if I'd lost my balance I would have run into the control panel.

This is the third treadmill I've bought used and "burned" up.  I actually lubricated this one the best I could.  Without the owners manual I wasn't positive how to do it, but I bought lubricant and sprayed everyting I could find that moved.  I sprayed under the deck the best I could.  I know that ultimately the belt is supposed to come to do it right, but again, without an owner's manual I couldn't be sure how to take it apart and then I wasn't sure I could get it back together.

I don't mind telling you that today I looked at it folded up in the hall ready to go to the trash and I cried.  Like a baby.  I cried not so much because the treadmill was broken, I cried because I'm tired of being just a little over weight, but not tired enough to really do something about it.

There was a time I did a form of the Atkins diet.  I at no bread, no soda, no pasta, no potatoes or rice for a few months and the weight seemed to fall off.  I lost 35 pounds and was down to a size 12.  I shopped for a new concert dress that year and bought a SIZE 12.  I hadn't been a size 12 since before my son was born.  I bought some really cute clothes.  Some little size 14 cargo shorts and cute little short sleeved shirts.  With belts that had funky rivets on them. 

Today, at 205.4, my excuse of being bloated from my period isn't any more than an excuse.  We're so broke right now, any effort on my behalf to save money--like not taking the truck to the lake with my bike--is needed.  The healthy foods, vitamins and lifestyle has gone on the pile as one of the things we can do to save money.

People will say that it doesn't cost anything extra to eat right and get a little exercise.  It does.  When eating right and getting a little exercise works, but not enough, it takes a little more.  It takes healthier and safer choices.  I live in an area surrounded by orange groves and long unpopulated stretches of road.  I just don't feel safe anymore.

I wish I could sit here at my computer and tell you I'm in the pits and will feel better tomorrow, but this has been with me for a while.  A boiling trouble below the surface.  I think the treadmilll breaking and the gaining of something like 8 pounds in the last two months has taken its toll.  I feel fat, I feel ugly and feel llike I don't have a good choice left in the bunch.

I think a little more than just my treadmill died on Sunday.

Never On Sunday: What Is He Thinking

I just read a facbook entry from a friend that claims to be "blessed".  Statements like this interest me.  Like when people say they heard God's voice tell them what they should do or felt the "Holy Spirit" nudge them.  I'm certain within a few percentage points that I've never actually heard God'v voice despite a phase I went through of wanting to hear it pretty bad.  The nudging of the Holy Spirit seems to be more of a nuance than a feeling, so it's quite possible in all my busyness that had the Holy Spirit actually nudge me, I probably didn't recognize it as any more than my inner self.

Now this is not to say that this sort of thing doesn't happen.  It's just never happened to me.  Two of my favorite people on TV, Ken and Gloria Copeland claim both of these things.  Why not?  They've centered their lives around such things.  I'll admit, I'm pretty shamelessly jealous of anyone that claims to have heard or felt any member of the Holy Trinity.  Anyone who has opening prayed in the grocery store or has prayed a child's prayer for a boat and got one ranks up pretty high on my list.

So I return to my facebook friend that is "blessed".  Last night his blessing came in the form of having a son he enjoyed spending time with.  Then of course I wonder if he'd had a son he didn't enjoy spending time with, what would that mean?  Would he have stepped over into the "unblessed" by God crowd?  I don't know.  I'm just sayin'.

This same man has claimed "blessings" on multiple occasions.  A lovely wife, a beautiful home.  A job.  Hmmm.  I also listened to a pastor who claimed to regularly hear God's voice in his study.  A pastor's study is a magical place.  Many things happen there that don't happen too many other places.  This man claims to receive direction on what topics to preach about.  Some undesignated member of the Trinity has contacted him and helped him choose a sermon.

I've prayed longingly for that kind of direction.  I've cried on my face concerning many things.  I've sobbed prostrate on the carpet at the foot of the alter of my church wanting to hear God's voice tell me just one thing.  I laid there on my face for quite some time after the tears would no longer flow and a long string of mucous had made its way to the floor.  Unhappiness and discontentment being the only things directing me.  I didn't hear the voice, but I made the decision I'd hoped He would want at least some input.  Apparently he didn't want input that bad.   I got up, walked away from the one place on this planet I was pretty sure God would be willing to reveal himself.  I quit the job at the church and have drifted fairly aimlessly since.

I can't tell you the jealous rage I have feltt at other's claims to God's wonders.  The blessings, the miracles, the joy and filling.  The Holy Spirit was sent for all of us.  Not to just "nudge" a chosen few that fit some impressive criteria.  I've been promised a comforter.  I've been promised a provider.  I can't seem to tune in to these things no matter how still I sit, how much I cry or how many nights I repeat the same prayer over and over again.

I will interject this.  I've changed.  I've stopped waiting around for God to fulfill some grocery list of needs.  I've stopped waiting for family members to meet my wants and desires.  They aren't going to and  God doesn't appear to be in the business of checking lists.  At the risk of saying something offensive to a reader or even worse, to God.  I'm not sure I know what God is thinking or wants.  I haven't experienced any of those things that others claiming to walk side by side with God have experienced.

You know, there's a possibility that all these sensations, leadings and voices are not from any member of the heavenly sect.  There's even a stronger possibility that there are no angels or demons watching our every mood.  That God is not fretting over us the way we'd like to think he is.  That he doesn't care where we park, what we eat or who we marry.  I can't imagine what it must be like to be the God we've created in our minds and an even bigger statement would be I can't imagine ever claiming to know what he's thinking.

Mental Messages: That Bloated Feeling

This morning I weighed a disappointing 205.4 pounds.  The only reason I'm not any more than disappointed is I think it will go back down.  I take an anti-inflammatory for asundry reproductive organ issues about 24 - 48 hours before I start my period and strive to get a good dosage coursing through my veins by the time the pain hits.  It bloats me so much I can feel it in my eyes, hands and feet.  Worse yet to my psyche, I can see it in the mirror.  My face fills up like a gourd.  My skin tightens.  It's pretty traumatic. 

The weight gain normally amounts to  five to seven pounds.  I try to keep it in perspective when I get on the scale and see it creeping up in the days and hours before it gets here, but it's tough every time.  This time, with school and the stress of other family issues looming over my head, it was especially rough on my ego to see the 205.4 flash below me.  I've kept a constant glass of water by side and ate fresh ice cold watermelon today that was really a nice treat. 

It will pass and I will soon be back to my self again.  Feeling strong of mind, body and spirit, but for now it's a battle not to just curl up in the fetal position under the covers.

Mental Messages: Your Fur Smells Like Sour Spaghetti--Musing About Pets

There's a blog that comes up just about every time I click on next blog.  I wouldn't want to embarass the writer.  I'm sure the entry was written with great excitement and love.  Warm fuzzies on overload.  The top entry is a few weeks old, but features a photo of what I believe to be a poodle of some variety eating what I believe to be birthday cake.  I've never read the article.  My gag reflexes are too strong.

I always assume it's the dog's birthday.  I give the owner credence for not feeding it at the table or counter.

So here's this photo of a dog eating birthday cake.  Innocent enough.  Not for me.   Of the five senses, my sense of smell is probably my second top feature.  Number one being my ears, but that's for another day.  I digress.  This photo of a dog eating his/her cake stimulates an odor memory.  My mother's three little dogs used to smell like sour spaghetti.  Hopefully you're asking me why the dogs periodically smelled like sour spaghetti.

These little dogs were of the long hair variety.  Pekingese, with flat little faces, bulging eyes and grunting snorting little mouths.  I don't remember caring too much for them.  I liked to call them and hear them race down the hallway to my room.  With some speed and accuracy, they could make the top of the bed without breaking too much stride.

When mealtimes were over, my mother would put down plates for them to lick.  I never thought much of this.  It was a way of life.  The dogs licked the plates after dinner.

On a side note, I remember one afternoon when I was in my twenties and visiting my husband at work.  I grabbed a pot out of the kitchen at his work and used it water my dog.  He'd been waiting in the car under a tree, but he was still thirsty.  Some lady there came unglued.  I thought she was being a witch.  In my confident twenties I ignored her.  Looking back, I think she was right.  Although soap and hot water kills pretty much anything, dogs lick their butts and that's gross.  I'll give her that one.

Back to the spaghetti.  On night we had spaghetti--which seems like an awful lot--the dogs would get to lick the spaghetti plates clean.  However, on these nights, their fur would go rancid or something because the odor was overwhelming.  I told my mom not to feed them the spaghetti.  It made their fur around their faces smell.  She looked at my like I had two noses.  I tried to wipe them clean with a washcloth.

Now that's gross.

I added soap.  Nothing seemed to take that smell away.  I hated it.  I'm sure there are a lot of other reasons why I don't like my cats on the counter, or let them eat human food.  For some reason seeing this little dog eating birthday cake over and over again sends my nose into the olfactory stratosphere.

As of my last visit, my parents still give their annoying dog human "type" food.  Two eggs.  That goofy dog gets two eggs most days.  They buy Sam's Choice dog food she can poop out all over the yard because it's full of corn.  Then they give her an egg or two every day.  That means every 12 days they are spending a couple bucks on eggs for this dog.  That's a little over 30 DOZEN eggs for those doing the math.  That's about $75 dollars a year on eggs--for a dog--even if the eggs are cheap.

My counter argument would be to skip the egg, spend the $10 more a month on some decent food.  That will probably slim her down and keep her from pooping 100 times a day.  They don't go for it.  The egg seems to help her--the dog--in some way that only they--my parents--are aware of.

Fitness: Switching Gears--Again

I've always wanted to try a training schedule but could never understand them enough to apply them any more than a few days.  Well, I did find one here.  It's a Couch to 5k plan.  I did a few days of the first week.  In order to do the 3 miles in 30 minutes I want to do, the jogging portion of the plan needs to be at 6 mph.  I did the 60/90 week at 5.5 and it was tough.

I don't know about "Couch to 5k" as described because I've been jogging/running in varying intensities for almost a year and although I haven't really progressed much beyond a sad 17 minute mile, I'm certainly not a couch potato.  This is a tough regime.

I'm going to do this plan for a while.  Something is bettter than nothing.  I may not do it in the 9 weeks because I want to do the 3 miles in 30 minutes.  I've got 12 weeks until the next obstacle race, so I may figure out a way to stretch out he increments a little to give myself and my 45 year old body an opportunity to rise to the occasion.  I don't know, something like turning the alternate three day week into a four day "week" or switch to a 45 second jog for the first week so I can get the speed I am hoping for.

I feel encouraged to have finally found a plan I can understand and maybe even work with.  Here's the link again.  I'll post later what I decided to do about stretching the training into 11 or 12 weeks.

Here is the Couch to 5K Plan link again.

Kitchen Traditions: Stinky Stank

I am obssessed about the way my house smells.  Perhaps it's because I have friends and family whose homes--well--stink.  Like dog, like cigarette smoke, like onions.  You name it.  I have six cats, so I am always tuned in to the way my house smells.  I've got some really great heated wax/oil from Scentsy that I use when I expect company for the evening, but most days I rely on this great new discovery I bought at Pet Supermarket.  (It's about the same price on ebay.  Believe me, I checked!)

Natural Air Sponge Odor Absorber
Stock Photo

A company called Seapro International appear to be the geniuses behind this awesome product.  I don't know what it's made of.  It feels like that spongy stuff you stand on in some public showers or at water theme parks.  Up close it has a kind of baby powder smell that I was not so sure I wanted my house to smell like.  Once the cup is opened and this awesome product goes to work, there's no baby powder smell.  In fact there is no smell at all.

I have one sitting on top of each of my litter boxes and I don't know if this is a coincidence or not, but the sponge I place on smellliest room and most used box is shriveling at a much higher rate than the other.  I'm not sure how this works, so if you want that kind of information, it will have to wait, but for now I highly recommend this over any other odor absorbing/masking thing I've bought to date.

Back To School: Calculus--Well, Almost

I started a semester of Calculus on Sunday.  It's actually Basic Applied Calculus.  I'm not sure what that means for sure.  Perhaps it's like some kind of pergatory between Pre-Calc and Calc.  I just know I don't like that so far I spent a lot of money to do word problems.

That leads me to what appears to be an unrelated topic.  But stay with me.

I'm addicted to the DeMYSTiFieD series.  So I've bought one--if they had one--every time I've taken a course.  In my math journeys, the one DeMYSTiFieD guide I've used again and again has been the math word problems issue.  I bought it used off e-bay.  I've used it to tutor others and myself through College Algebra, PreCalculus, Elementary Statistics and now I have it back out for Calculus.  Word Problems.

math word problems Demystified
Allan G. Bluman
McGraw Hill
ISBN 0-07-144316-9
stock photo

Decimals
Fractions
Percents
Equations
Money
Age
Distance
Mixture
Finance
Lever
Work
Two Equations
Quadratic Equations
Geometry
Probability
Statistics
Other strategies

This is just one of the best ones out there.  Like I said, I've returned to it again and again for myself and for others.

Never On Sunday: An Unlikely Source

I imagine one of these days the bitterness I feel for churches, pastors and organized religion will subside, but for now, my antenna are up and alert when it comes to such things.

I spent the evening with a friend and her daughter.  The friend used to be the assistant principal at my son's (now 23) elementary school, so we've known each other for quite some time.  Her daughter recently entered our lives via her husband.  Not because of, but in spite of.

I always wanted to ask "the question" about her ex husband and what prompted her to leave him after 25 years of marriage, however, I didn't know her well enough yet.  Last night, on a long drive to a musical we were all attending, she spoke of him and her children and I just listened.

Her husband is a mean person.  Self absorbed and self serving.  He is also a Christian.  She spoke of him for many miles as if he was a pastor or had been a pastor.  So I asked her. 

"Is your ex-husband a pastor?"

She answered quickly, "No, he just thinks he is."  The comment from her was so full of resentment I knew the next several miles would be filled with more of her life with him.  Apparently when he wasn't wooing potential Christians, or being a wonderful example of the Christian walk to others, he was emotionally and verbally abusive to the family--their five children and his wife.  Their heated arguments and fighting lasting deep into the night when she chose to stand up to him or long spells of silence when she did not.

Somewhere in there she didn't love him anymore, she didn't blame him, she didn't hate him, but had chosen to leave him.  The adult children were still angry and many had sought counseling.  

I Am Really Grouchy This Morning

Wow, I am crabby.  I'm tired.  I'm back in the phase of not sleeping well and haven't been able to shake this headache  Our cats were out of food yesterday.  I should have made time to go up to the store to pick some up, but my mom called before I left to go to a rehearsal and told me some desparing new about my dad so instead of stopping at the store for cat food, I drove home on the phone talking to her.  I know she must feel frustrated, but this is what life is.  Like it or not, ready or not.

There's also no coffee beans.  This whole idea off running out of things isn't usually that big of a deal except that my family is spoilt.  They know that we won't be out for long, mom will go pick some up.  Whatever "some" happens to be.  I'm a sucker and I don't know how to fix it.

Oh, I hate feeling like this.

Fitness: Treadmill? What Treadmill?

What a defeating week it has been.  The blister started it.  Three days of headaches finished it.  I have not been on the treadmill in a week.  I did stick to the weight training, but have not increased weights or reps this week.

I think I am starting to see a difference in the shape of my arms.  Maybe I'm seeing it because I just want to see it.

202 this morning on the scale.  I don't have anyone to blame but myself.  I have to get back to the cardio tomorrow.  I'm frustrated that I've been "training" for almost 10 months and still can't run any more than I could ten months ago.  I need to do some research on increasing stamina for distance.  Discouragement is not what I need right now.  I need to be finding my second wind and figuring out ways to succeed.

Books and Movies: Does TV Count?

I know this probably sounds a little corny and could be a better use of my time, but I've been watching old episodes of X Files.  I never saw a single episode in the 10 or so years it was airing.  I've always been intrigued by paranormal and supernatural stories, but for some goofy reason, just never watched it.



So, a week or so ago, we started watching the episodes from the beginning.  We're up to the one with the evil set of twins.  Even for 1993, it's pretty good writing.  I think so far, one of the things I can appreciate at this moment is there is no silly attempt at corny computer graphics.



We joke about the awkward attempts at sexual tension between Scully and Mulder.  They're always staying in a hotel somewhere.  He's always in her personal space.  He believes, she doesn't.  Unlikely hero meets reluctant FBI agent.  We know the drill.  So we take it light whenever he gets in her space, or things get less than professional and give each other a side glance and a chuckle.



This is a good show.  I've enjoyed the first dozen or so episodes and I'm looking forward to the next 200.  YIKES.



I normally watch it in the afternoon with my son, but watched a few episodes last night.   It was much creepier with the shades down and all the lights in the house off.  Two cats that as usual slept through it all.  So we give it the thumbs up.  We'll see how I feel about it after 200+ episodes.

Fitness: Little Debbie and my Gigantic Blister

It's Tuesday again.  I have to share some fitness tidbit.  Truth is, that blister I got the middle of last week grounded me.

I did wear some sneaker-type shoes to rehearsal last night and it didn't hurt to walk about 50 yards.  I've got some errands to run this morning and some things to do around here that I've been putting off for close to months.  Forget days and weeks.

I'm in that procrastinating mood I find myself in complete with headache, grogginess, and general impatience.  So I slept in this morning because I could.  Enter the grouchy portion of my mood.  When I feel like this my appetite for real food disappears and is replaced with a ravenous desire for things manufactured by Little Debbie.

However, I will gladly report that I have continued with my weight training.  I have never had a problem finding the desire to do that.  On Sunday I made it to another level of weights.  I managed to do two Lat Pulldowns using the next to the last weight on the stack.  I don't know how much weight this translates to.  I lost the instruction sheet containing the math portion of the exercises a long time ago.  Now I just set a goal to be able to "do" one more than last time knowing I will probably never be able to do them all.  By "them all" I mean all the weights on the stacks.  But then again . . .

My husband says I am pretty much doing it all wrong.  I disagreed.  I think by doing reps with both light and heavy weights I am getting a more broad spectrum workout.  Plus, I really think I need the warm up as my shoulder joint tends to let me know when I've over done it. Although he was probably right for a goal of strength training.  I am trying to smooth out my arms from those terrible bulges that rest somewhere around the elbow to shoulder area and I believe it's working using the combination of low weight high reps and high weight low reps.

Is That So Difficult?: I Just Want His Clothes to Fit

My husband has a flat butt and I'm sick of looking at his pants/jeans sagging like he's wearing a day-old dirty diaper.  Now I know right now that we don't have the money for him to go buy seven new pairs of jeans just because he looks like he's packing a load, but there has to be an answer.  One pair of jeans that actually fit his ass and I'd spend 100 dollars.

I looked at a few "answer" websites that were no help at all.  In fact, I just got angry.  I can't believe these articles actually claim to help a man shop for jeans.  I tell you what I'm looking for, I'm looking for a pair of jeans that fit him.  I don't want to read about snaps, buttons, pockets or stitching.  I don't care about the color of the blue.  I want them to FIT HIM!

It doesn't seem to bother him.  I mention it when his jeans are going especially "droopy drawer" on him.  He laughs it off and tells me that's just the way it is.  I don't think so.  There has to be a men's jean out there designed especially for Flat Ass Syndrome and I don't need to be told to look for a pair of jeans that fits across the behind, because that's what I'm doing.  I'm looking for a pair of jeans that fit him.  Is that so difficult?

I Need a Remedy: A Gigantic Blister

I noticed some soreness in my heel during my walk/run on Tuesday.  I decided to power through it on Wednesday's walk although it was getting pretty stingy by the end of the 3 miles.  I pulled off my sock to find a blister about the size of a 50 cent piece.  It was so tender to the touch I couldn't put a shoe on the next day, so I waited it out.  I thought by Friday I'd be able to put my shoe on with two socks and a nice tight fit, so I tried to walk.  I made it five minutes before the pain was over the top.  I then tried a zero incline.  It still hurt.  The only way it didn't make me want to buckle was walkin gon tip toe.  That just wasn't going to work for another 2.75 miles.

I tried to wear a shoe on Saturday, still no go.  This thing is really bad.  Anyone out there have any suggestions?  I need to get back to wearing shoes and walking as soon as possible.

This morning it is still tender.  I am going to wait until tonight to try to put a shoe on and see.  Grrrr.

Fitness: Best Time 3 Miles in 53 Minutes

That's 1 1/2 miles uphill and 1 1/2 miles level.  It was a bit of a fluke.  I'm spending most off the time around 57 - 63 minutes.  However, I have added a tenth of a mile to the incline portion of the "course".  This week I am walking 1.4 level and 1.6 on full incline.  I am holding on to the rails for dear life, but hope that will soon stop.
I also change it up a bit.  Incline first one day and level terrain first the next day.

Started to really turn up the heat on the weight training and balancing exercises as well.  Doing varying number of sets of 25 calf raises throughout the day.  While I'm cooking.  In the shower.  I try to do the calf raises with my arms at my side to work those balancing muscles in the core.

My muscles are very tight today.  Yesterday was a weight train and walk work out day.  Focusing on the upper body and mostly arms for the sundress I'm working on.

I talk about it a lot in my Sewing Retro! series.  I'm up to something like #5 on it.  That's the link to #1.  I'm planning on wearing it to my niece's outdoor graduation in June.  You'll notice it's sleeveless.  Something I just don't do it go sleeveless in public.  I plan on it June 10.

In my weight training, it takes me about an hour to do it all.  I start with fast reps of low weights and then I do some slow heavy stuff.  I know that the low weights have been proven to not do so much for us.  I use the really low weights like a warm up because I have a really bad shoulder.  I takes the shoulder a very long time to warm up, so I decided to use the super light weights on the same exercises I do the super heavy weights to be sure those specific muscles and joints are warmed up the best they can be.  Since I began doing my workout this way, I have only experienced minor soreness for about 24 hours after an especially tough workout.