A friend is apparently having a bad day at work and this is a line from her email. I thought it was hilarious:
If stupidity hurt, there would be a lot of people in some SERIOUS pain around here!!
My sister-in-law just IM'd me and and asked if "I would be ok with going to Mexico instead of Disney". Sheesh, who am I to argue? She's checking into timeshares in Cancun! Wahoo!
So, muchachos, wish me luck that my vacation this year will be south of the border.
"How badly do you want to lose weight?" was how the conversation started. I've been going to a personal trainer for the last 6 weeks and have noticed a big difference in muscle mass, but nothing on the weight side. This was her way of telling me to get my ass in gear.
To be honest, Dear Reader, I had to pause before answering her. The "inside me", the guy that looks into the mirror each morning, the guy who recognizes traits from his mother that he'd rather not have, the guy who doesn't want to date because of how he looks, gave her a resounding "BADLY! BADLY! BADLY!". The other guy, the guy that tells us that we're not that bad, that working out is too hard, and who turns the steering wheel away from the gym each afternoon said, "Meh..who knows". Well, Dear Reader, the former "Me" won this battle. He said, "Badly. What do I have to do?"
My trainer offered to meet me every Tuesday and Friday at 6am to do cardio. We would also continue to meet Mondays and Thursdays for weights. She said she's at the gym at 6 anyway and this wouldn't be a problem for her. So...I got up Tuesday and today at 5am, was on the elliptical trainer by 6:05 and was at work by 7:30.
Interesting thing to note, Dear Reader. I actually like going early in the morning. It's hard to explain, but it makes me feel like I'm part of a special group of people that want to work out. I was amazed, and I mean that sincerely, at the number of people at the gym on Tuesday morning. It was jammed...and that was cool! Plus, I really felt energized on Tuesday when I got to work and I didn't have to rush like I do during lunch.
I will admit to being a little sleepy today, but I think it's because I'm getting a cold or sinus infection...but I still went to the gym. And going to the gym when feeling sick, Dear Reader, is amazing in and of itself. So...we shall see.
I received a series of emails from two friends of mine in Scotland and it reminded me of how much fun I had over there.
We spent the evening at Ali's home a few days after we arrived. The women on the trip were having a "Women's Pudding", which is basically a desert party. Pudding in Scotland refers to desert of any type...I think. Not to be outdone, the men had a "Guy's Night Out" with typical man food; beer, wine, chips (crisps), mini salami, etc. It started out as "Guy's Night Out" but eventually turned into "Make fun of Ali's music collection".
I will be the first to admit that I didn't actually see Ali's collection, but from the tidbits we were given, his tastes are, um, different than mine. And not in a good way. Sorry, Ali. However, I truly believe that if it weren't for Ali's musical, uh, taste, I'd have not gotten quite as close to these people.
Hearing the way Neal and Andy carried on with Ali allowed me to find out what the boundaries were. It immediately became clear to me that these guys were just like my friends in the States. You could absolutely destroy their taste in music or sports or literature or whatever and remain perfectly comfortable that they were taking the jokes as just that and nothing more. From then on, I could be "me".
The reason for explaining this is Ali discovered a comment I'd left on Andy's blog about his iPod and responded via email with a hilarious and well-written account of why it is what it is. Andy, of course, countered with another incredibly funny response which had me laughing out loud. Both emails reminded me of why I miss these guys and can't wait to get back to see them.
I've never been much of a "goal" person. I don't set goals and couldn't answer the "Where do you want to be in 5 years" question without some serious thought. I've tried to set some the last few years and have been moderately successful. One of my goals for this year is to actually have some meaningful goals. Since I know you're all waiting patiently, here are my 2008 Goals, in no particular order.
Lose weight and maintain 185 lbs. I was close to this goal two years ago, but, uh, let's just say I ain't close now.
Complete the 2008 Denbury Resources MS150. Registered for $8.00 and have reserved my room.
Complete the 3 State 3 Mountain Challenge. Several friends do this ride and say it is tough, but fun.
Ride the metric century for the 2008 Natchez Trace Century Ride. Never ridden this even though it is in my back yard.
That's all I've come up with for now. Yes, I realize all of the goals are cycling oriented, but that's all I've come up with for now. You gotta start somewhere.
Did you ever have a sphincter-tightening moment when you realize that the way you were doing something was the complete wrong way to do it? Welcome to my Monday.
My Dad's been in the hospital this week and it's taught me some things about myself and my family. Fortunately, Dad is doing well and went home today. Had some unexpected bleeding from having a polyp removed so the docs admitted him to the ICU for observation...in case you're wondering.
I've been lucky in that I've not had to deal with stuff like this very often in my own family, so my "coping" mechanism is humor. I can't help it, really, since humor is how I deal with most things. It's good to know that I come by it naturally and I'm not some freak. When the nurse tried to give my Dad an IV and couldn't find a "hard vein", Dad said, "Ma'am, I haven't had a hard vein in years". When he was bored in his room in ICU, he'd hold his breath just to watch his respirations go to 0 and the monitor show a flatline. And when he finally finished passing blood, he told the nurse, "You've probably never been happier to hear a fart in your whole life."
The most interesting part of this whole ordeal is when I repeat what he's done. Half of the people I tell immediately say, "Well, that explains a lot." The other half are too polite to say that, but I can see it in their eyes. Ah well...you know the old saying.
So I was pulling into the garage the other night and thought I noticed a shadow or something cross between me and a gardenia bush next to the garage. Didn't think anything of it. Turned off my headlights, opened the door and heard a familiar jingling sound.
The rational brain said, "Hey, uh, why are you hearing what sounds like Trey's tags rattling? He should be in the back yard." The irrational brain responded with "OH MY GOD! WE'RE HAVING A STROKE! WE'RE HEARING PHANTOM NOISES!! IT'S A SIGN!! QUICK! CALL 911!!". The rational brain muttered, "dumbass" as it made my left arm open the car door. When I did, guess what?
Trey was there to greet me. The little bastard got out of the backyard. Fortunately, he didn't go far and he appeared no worse for wear. Today, though, was a different story.
He got out today, crossed the creek that runs behind the fence, and ended up in a neighboring subdivision. A very nice lady put him in her garage, called the vet, and they figured out who he was from the ID on his rabies tag. I left work to go pick him up.
When she opened the garage door and he saw me standing there, he knew he was in deep doodoo. His tail was tucked so far underneath him that it was touching his chin and he wouldn't look me in the eye. He did that "tail tucked" walk all dogs do when I called him...well, to be honest, his was more of a tail-tucked hop, but you get the point. As he gimped towards me, the first thing I noticed was how wet he was. The second thing I noticed was how bad he smelled. He smelled like shit...and I don't mean that figuratively. He was nasty...and since he won't jump into the car, I had to lift him up. Needless to say, I was not a happy camper because I knew I'd have to bathe his stupid, smelly ass before going back to work.
Since it was too cold to bathe him outside, I threw his ass in the guest bathtub. I realized this would be difficult since I'd have to use a cup to get his butt wet and I was right. It was a royal pain to get him wet and rinsing the soap off would have been a nightmare. So...Trey had his first shower. Yep, turned on the shower and it worked like a charm. I was able to rinse him off and the shower was gentle so the water wouldn't get in his ears. He didn't seem to mind, but for a brief instance this reminded me of the shower scene from First Blood. You know the one where they're hosing down Rambo and all the deputies are standing around laughing at him? I think that's when he snaps and starts killing people...so I kept an eye on him to make sure he didn't turn into Ram-Trey.
So...when I got him dried off, the boy and I had to have a talk...well, I talked and he listened. I explained that if he gets out again, I'm going to have one 3leggeddog and one 2leggeddog. I think he got the message. To be safe, I'm going to board up his escape hole. Thinking back, I should have known there was a problem. I noticed someone had taped photos of bikini-clad girls on my fence but I ignored them. Maybe I should have named him "Andy" instead of Trey.
You know what, Dear Reader, I am sick and tired of hearing what Britney or Lindsey or Paris or any of these other asshats are doing. I don't give a farthing whether Lindsey drank champagne or Paris partied till the wee hours of the morning or even about Kevin Mr. Britney Spears Federline. I mean, holy shiite, people, do we have to read about Pam Anderson divorcing/not divorcing the latest clown she's married to? Who, I might add, is famous only because he had sex with Paris and then sold the tape to the highest bidder. One article I ran across mentioned aerial coverage of Britney being loaded into an ambulance. Aerial coverage? Someone actually sent a helicopter to get video tape of her being put into an ambulance. They sent a H E L I C O P T E R people...
What is the fascination with these people? Is it that we all love to see a good train wreck? Is it that we're jealous of their lifestyle or their money or their fame and we love to see them come crashing back to earth? I'm just amazed at the amount of time and effort that's put into tracking what these people do.
And please don't get me started on the celebrities who think we should listen to their opinions on world politics or global warming or the price of oil. I defy any of these people to give me an original thought on the subject instead of parroting back to me things they've heard or been told by their PR people. I don't care that Obama and Oprah went on a tour of Iowa or that Susan Sarandon supports this candidate or that Sean Penn thinks they all suck. I don't care. However, I do think it's funny that Hilary finished 3rd. THIRD!! HAHAHAHA! Sorry...got off track.
I'm not trying to sound bitter, Dear Reader, I'm just sick of this morbid fascination with people whose sole contribution in many cases, is nothing more than making us believe they are someone else, i.e. Martin Sheen as President. You are not presidential just because you play one on TV.
Anyway...what do you think? Am I being overcritical? Am I just as much to blame since I know who Pam Anderson is married to? Ack...I'm just sick of it.