When Did I Become Old?

It's not that atypical that I go to bed at 9 p.m. on weekend nights. No, you totally read that right. I'm in bed early a lot. Mostly because Chef gets up at 4 a.m. for work and if we're going to spend time together, it just makes sense that we try and be on the same schedule. He's done it for me on the weekdays and by Friday, I'm only too happy to succumb to his early bird regiment.

But it really takes me by surprise that I've starting drifting off on the couch in the early evenings. What the hell made me so tired all of a sudden? Oh yeah, it's going non-stop from 6 a.m. to 7 p.m. I always get so excited about new jobs and challenges that I completely forget how all-encompassing it is to figure out what your organization method is going to be, how to manage the new items and of course, when you're going to move your office. None of which are nearly as important as the looming deadline. . . and there's always a looming deadline for one thing or 20.

Okay, I should quit bitching about being tired because if you're an adult, you're tired for some reason or another. But that's the thing. When did I become an adult?

Maybe we're all sleepy in my household.

How to Clean Up Cat Vomit

This is something Chef and I became experts on as two of the little angels were heaving like Linda Blair in The Exorcist this weekend. Nothing to worry about, but definitely little pools of vomit joy to clean up.

This was the first time that I regreted having more than one animal. Mostly because as soon as one was making that nasal wretching noise (cat owners, you know what I'm talking about) and we ran to try and pick him up to place the feline on a hard surface, then the other one would start wretching too.

Chef got the brunt of the vomiting clean up duty. Genghis and Attila were the infected kitties. So, we kept the clean up to a science:

1. Wet down spot


2. Mop up excess vomit


3. Spray with Complete Stain & Odor remover


4. Comment on how Complete only works about 75% of what I need it to do, making it really 75% and not nearly COMPLETE


5. Towel up wet spot


6. Repeat in 6-8 hours


7. Be thankful that the other two cats aren't sick


8. Wonder if the full body cat vomit spasm has pulled any of their kitty muscles

We've been vomit-free for almost 24 hours. Keep your fingers crossed!

Beautiful Ladies As Far As the Eye Could See

Yesterday was another one of those days that I felt grateful to have my job. After a long hard year of raising funds in a crappy economy, poor morale for the country in general and having everything come down to the phrase "if it weren't for this economy. . . ", days were you feel grateful are as few as Peyton Manning sacks.

Yesterday I got to spend my day with about a dozen lovely ladies who help make Go Red For Women happen in Nashville. These ladies truly devote hours of their lives to helping spread the Go Red gospel, getting turned down by skinny ladies who wreak of cigarette smoke and feel they don't have anything heart-related to fear, doing grunt work, doing non-glamourous things and speaking in public. And yesterday with the help of some fantastic photographers, great stylists and friends, those ladies were able to have some fun, get their pictures taken and have some glamour in their lives.

You see, we picked out 10 or so ladies back in February at a casting call to be our local faces. Most are survivors of heart disease or stroke or close to someone who had heart disease or even saved someone's life. They are all inspiring wonderful women and when you spend nearly all day with women, but spend your time in the asexual world of business, it's nice to be reminded that a group of women can be fun. Not bitchy or competitive or single-minded or scared or fragile or emotional. Just fun. (By the way, that's not a reference to my co-workers, who are also fun, but to my general experiences with large groups of women. And another reason why I was never in a sorority. That and my fear of having to stand before a mirror with a Sharpie circling my "trouble areas").

If you'd like to come meet my friendly, beautiful, fun ladies, you can. Go Red For Women is throwing a Girls' Night Goes Red event on November 5th from 7 to 8:30 or so at The Belcourt. It's free. It's fun. And did I mention that the Belcourt sells drinks?

As I said, yesterday was a day I was grateful for.

Sick and Tired of being Sick and Tired

I haven't full blown caught the heat of the germs and I'm very thankful for that. However, I am super tired, sniffling, aching (although that could be boot camp), and in desperate need of some extended time off. I get Sunday and this afternoon, so I'm excited about that. I have to work my last weekend engagement for a while tomorrow, but it's a photo shoot (meaning I don't really have anything to do) and I love the lovely ladies that will be there.

So I've been operating at about 70 percent for the last 24 hours and know that my head will be perpetually hot and my hands and feet always cold. It's a fun state to be in. Plus I'm crazy busy right now with an event coming up and my new things piling on to the old things. Luckily, I have next friday blocked off for some planning so I can get a system in place other than post-it notes and a million pieces of handwritten stuff everywhere. The lack of organization in my office and my life right now is infuriating me. I'm ready to dump it all in a trash bin and start again. If only, I could find my trash can. . .

On another note, I laughed my booty off when I saw Jeff Fisher sporting a Peyton Manning jersey this week while introducing Tony Dungy at an event here in town for Rocketown. He famously said "I just wanted to know what it was like to be a winner." You see the Titans are winless so far, and that was just funny. Of course, people here got their panties in a wad over it. Of course there's a web site up for his demise.

I have to say that I like the guy. He united the city with a beautiful eulogy after a local legend quarterback was found notoriously murdered by --not his wife. He handled the situation with grace and gave the city a chance to mourn without the constant salaciousness one would expect. He does a lot for the community and when he's worked with kids in the AHA's Play 60 program, he was phenomenal. A through and through class act. And not to mention a good coach. Despite the bad season.

God Hates Women. Men Love Boobs.

Yesterday I did what I usually don't dread so much: I went shopping. It wasn't the shopping itself, it was the item that caused me pain: bras. Normally I'm able to whip into a Cacique shop, have the lady there fit me and grab a great fitting, nicely priced bra. However, there's one drawback to losing weight. I'm officially too small for the Cacique store any more and therefore have to shop like mortals in department stores and the like.

Here's what I don't get. How can I three women who are supposed to be bra fitting specialists measure me at three completely different sizes? Also, to the lady who measured me with my top on, come one. I know we're in a time of being politically correct and body sensitive, but I'm fairly certain the large origami-style tufts that were placed across my boobs on the t-shirt I was wearing probably threw the measurement off a little. It's a bra. I'm more than happy to strip down and let you measure the girls properly.

So after three places, three rounds of leaving in tears of sorrow and frustration, I had a moment that I missed my mom. Odd since it was her boobs that ended up turning on her in the end, but growing up, bra shopping was never a horrible life-altering experience. My mom always made me get measured, she pulled style after style of bra off the shelf and shielded me from horrible saleswomen. While shopping for a bra was a pain as a 13 year old D cup, it was never tear-provoking, embarrassing or frustrating. Mom, I didn't give you nearly enough credit.

For now I am in a bra that fits better but not perfect and was way too expensive for what I got. However, I've come to the conclusion that I'm not going back until I have hours of time and loads of patience. It's either this or I gain weight until I can fit back into a cacique bra.

It's the Jitterbug of the Computer Technology Set

Who knew that Florence Henderson was a technology wunderkind? Okay, so she's probably not. But, she's at least marketing the tech support services for the older generation.

Computers are hard. I get that. If I hadn'd been around them and messed around with them, I would be frustrated and lost too. Here's Flo's solution to all that:

• "North American" tech support
• remote users who can access your computer and fix your problem without being on the line receiving instruction

Does anyone else wonder if perhaps Florence Henderson (aka a Hoosier and Carol Brady) might be getting unsuspecting seniors to allow her minions to hack their computer for bank and other information? Whoever thought of it was a GENIUS. (insert evil laugh here).

Less evil but more condescending is the Jitterbug. Although it's commercial jingle is very catchy, the product assumes that most people don't know how to use. . .a phone. I get that address books are hard, but do we really need someone to connect are calls for us? Are we getting that lazy? There's also the Model T version of choice; one phone comes in black or silver.

Perhaps I'm just spoiled because I have an internet savvy, email writing, blog reading, Tetris on a Game Boy-playin' grandmother. Yes, she's really that cool.

Chocolate Sludge

Today is Day Three of the diet and overall, it's not as bad as I anticipated last week. Mostly because I was trying to cook for three days all in the span of three hours. It wasn't a pretty sight. In fact, Chef got the brunt of my fury. I mean, I'm all about salmon burgers, but it is damn hard to mush together chunks of salmon and egg whites until they patty up enough to cook and flip on a stovetop.

However, now that I'm just reheating stuff to eat, it's not so bad. In fact, with the help of the pre-cooking and the work of my diet partner and the protein shakes, I'm pretty much a 15 minute or less per meal/snack in prep now. (Of course, because he's on a different --aka NO--plan, Chef's meals require a little more time. As I have ignored his eating requirements, I am tempting my willpower by making him taquitos tonight. )

Three days in and the scale has dropped 5 pounds. However, please note that the first day I could've weighed in a little off. I dropped 1 pound in the last day. However, three days is really not enough time to see the change. So I'll next let you all know the change after the two weeks are up. And then I'll let you know how quickly it was before I put the weight back on. That's what I'm really scared of.

Oh the price we pay to be beautiful. . .or at least make a valiant stab at being beautiful.

Rain Rain Please Stay Until At Least 6 p.m. Because I'm Lazy

Today is day two of the diet and my new role. The new role is easier than the diet. When you've been eating whatever sounds good for the last two weeks, your stomach tends to rumble at eating just protein and veggies. I'm doing the Ultimate New York Body Plan with a friend. Don't get me wrong. I'm sure it's better than what I have been doing and I need to be hungry every now and again, but the first two weeks of dieting are the worst. Luckily, this intense part of the diet is only two weeks long. And if I can lose a few more lbs in the process, then it will surely be worth it.

However, with little to go on and promise of butt kicking, the diet and boot camp are a mix that I'm not looking forward to. I'm hoping it rains until at least 6 so that we'll have to be inside for boot camp and I won't have to run up the steps of the Tennessee State Capitol "Rocky" style...again.

So aside from that, my new role in the AHA started yesterday officially. It will be my fourth new role in my time here. Four roles in eight years means about 2 years a role. That's about right. I'm now a Senior Development Director and will get to manage (hooray!), work on the corporate accounts that tests my strategic thinking skills, and continue to work with volunteers on marketing initiatives. What's different is that with a few lingering exceptions, I don't have to work on our local childhood obesity efforts and my weekends will be less filled with obligations. I'm not going so far as to say that I won't be working on the weekends. It's just that my work will be on my terms and not because I'm at a kid's event trying to get 5th graders to join the empowerME movement.

Of course, that life of luxury starts after this weekend. This weekend I'll be up to my neck in kids events. Kids and no carbs. This could be a long weekend.

However, no matter how hungry or angry I get, I won't be like this guy. Now that's just embarrassing. (Thanks, Chef for the link!)

tonight is for fun, tomorrow i get down to business

tonight I get to watch harry potter and the colts game, eat taquitos and a cupcake, hang out with chef and enjoy the remnants of my weekend.

tomorrow I not only go back to work but I start a new role in the organization. and aside from that, i'm trying a new diet. it's high in protein and veggies (and legit by the way) but the carboholic inside me is scared. new role, new diet and a new week. hopefully in a few weeks time it'll be a svelter, more well-rounded me too.

I'm A Sucker For Romance. . .Now

Things that struck me as sappy and way too sentimental a mere 4-5 years ago are now bringing me to tears. Not like "Crying at a long distance commercial" kind of tears, but the promo that's been running for The Office has made me giggle with delight for the last week. It was touching and I think everyone wants to hear sentiment like that being said. . .to someone else.

I refer to Julia Robert's character Vivian in Pretty Woman when she says"the bad stuff's just easier to believe" about yourself. I think the same goes for when someone is being romantic. If you don't have the best view of yourself at precisely that moment, the comment being made seems like a bad joke.

What do you mean that I've never looked better? I'm in sweatpants and a t-shirt with spaghetti sauce splattered over me.

It's that kind of comment that makes me doubt I'll ever be able to truly apply romantic notions to my own life. Nothing to do with Chef and his love, but more to do with my own issues. Isn't that the way it normally is?

However, I have come to appreciate romance in other people's life. Even if the people are fictional TV characters like Jim Halpert and Pam Beesly. So I was happy and cried and believed every sappy minute of Jim's love for Pam. It was awesome. It'll be even more awesome when she pops that kid out during February sweeps.

My Favorite Signs of Fall

For the first time this year, I felt it was fall. It was not only the lack of rain, but the crisp bite in the air while you're car's still warm inside from the day's sunshine. Here are some of my other favorite signs of fall:

• Football games that mean something. Once you're this far into the fall, College games get interesting because top teams aren't playing the little sisters of the poor and pro teams have either won or lost enough to either confirm or refute any predictions of the season.
  
• Pumpkin Spice Anything. Today I had my first pumpkin spice latte of the season. I also saw an ad for pumpkin spice candles, cupcakes, donuts and even beer. And I will probably buy them all because when you mix pumpkin with nutmeg, cinnamon and clove what you get is delicious and/or fragrant.
• Tall boots. I've got good legs and I know how to use them. Primarily in leather zip-up rockin' boots.
  
• After 120+ games, baseball is interesting again. The pennants were decided (for the most part) long ago, so now that the play offs are starting, it's time to start watching baseball again.
• Midnight Madness. The first official practice for NCAA Men's Basketball. Where hope springs eternal for Hoosier fans.
• Running in crisp mornings rock!It's too warm to run with a jacket and just cold enough that sweating provides comfortable relief.

Thank you mother nature. I used to think that Spring was my favorite season, but now I'm having second thoughts. . .

Good Thing I Was Already Wet

There are many things about Chef that I love. His ability to find nearly any TV show that I want to watch. The way he texts me and offers to cook dinner on a regularly basis. His ability to make me laugh at myself and others.

But he also has a habit of trying to make me cold. I'm not exactly sure why he does this other than his desire to watch me scream or wiggle in discomfort and surprise. But he does it. Whether it's with a cold coke can to the back, leg or any other available, exposed piece of skin or turning the shower knob to cold while I'm enjoying hot water. He does it.

Last night I knew he wanted to mess with me, so I thought I'd play it safe and lock the door to the bathroom while I took a shower. I highly underestimated his desire to get me. I turned off the water, got my towel, let Shower Buddy (aka Genghis) out of the bathroom, and when I opened the door, I got a bucket full of cold water thrown on me.

Keep in mind that he had to climb onto the outside bathroom counter and perch while I toweled off. Waiting like a little monkey, he then doused me with what was not a bucket, but our coffee maker's water resevoir. Lying in wait, plotting revenge, and terrorizing those who get in his way. I'm glad he loves me or I'd be in serious trouble.

I Thought We Got Cats. . .Not Dogs

Yup. It's going to be a quick cat blog. Mostly because one of our cats started doing something disturbing that had me thinking about all of our cats. We started with Genghis and soon enough all the cats were exhibiting dog-like behavior. Maybe all cats have similar traits, but I have yet to hear of it. Here goes:

• Genghis recognizes his name and comes when called.
  
• If Chef pats his legs, Genghis comes bounding across the room and hops into his lap to be pet.
  
• When you rub the couch or bed in a circular motion with your hand, Attila hops up and flops on his side. If you don't immediately start petting him, he then flips on his back and puts his paws in the air--like he's a true player.
• Lastly, because I know this list is getting boring. There's the issue of feminine hygiene products. Attila has an affinity for them. At first he just went into the trash and picked out whatever he could. Tampon, wrapper, pad, it didn't matter to him. So I started throwing them away in trash containers that were too high for him to stick his little snout into. Then he started going into my purse. It wasn't until all I saw was a tail sticking out of my bag that I realized he was digging in for my mobile stash of tampons. I zipped it up, but apparently I wasn't consistent because yesterday morning I woke up to a completely unwrapped unused tampon that had been carried through the house like a trophy. Maybe the string makes him think it's a mouse. Wait, he does that with pads too. Never mind. We're thinking of getting Attila counseling.
  

Things I Remember When I Have A Drink

Last night I went to Lime with my friend Greg. We get together every couple of months and chat about things that don't matter or chat about things that do matter and generally just enjoy each other's company. Because of the focus on fitness that I've had lately, I don't get out and have a cocktail or beer very often any more. However, when I do I suddenly remember things that I had forgotten, such as:

• I like drinking. Not to alcoholic extremes, but a good beer after a long day or a glass of wine at dinner really can melt away some top of mind concerns, even if it's only for the duration of the glass's contents.
• I'm not as dumb, ugly, pathetic, mean, bitchy, evil, or insignificant as I thought I was. Not that I've got major self-confidence issues, but whatever doubting thoughts are in the back of my mind bury themselves even deeper after a good mojito.
• People are interesting to watch. Especially in bars. Check out the subtle leaning in of one person in a conversation or the out of place track suit top in a bar where the women dress up in hopes of catching a cute or rich-- or preferrably both--man. (Notice I didn't say nice. Nice doesn't tend to get a lot of play when alcohol is involved. Just a word of advice for the single dudes out there).

I think these were many of the same reasons that daytime drinking was the norm in the 50s and 60s (or maybe it wasn't the norm, but Mad Men has me convinced that I need a bottle of scotch, an ice bucket and glasses in my office). Either way I enjoyed my Xingu beer and the company even more so. And both were needed.