A Whole Lot of Nothin'

That's what I did this weekend. And it was everything that I dreamed it could be. I watched the food network (looking for some ideas to jazz up this meal plan), caught up on all nearly all of the Law & Order episodes on the DVR (which is a miracle in its own right), played with the kitties, cleaned some of the house, and generally enjoyed having no particular place to be or go at any specific time.

One of the things I enjoyed with Chef was the downloading of Battleship for the Xbox. Board games are a good time, but board games on the Xbox are even better. Especially when I've got an equal shot at winning. I also spent some infuriating time trying to beat Schultz's score on Bejeweled on facebook. How they hell did she score 199,000 in one minute? I'm positive she had to cheat.

But mostly I tried to stay diligent as Chef played out his strategy this weekend. The first weigh in is today for our Biggest Loser Contest and he spent the weekend stuffing his face trying to gain as much weight as possible. Oddly enough, when I mentioned the contest to my brother Matt, he said that he'd be doing the same thing. Is this a guy thing? Or am I just missing the boat? I would've had a Klondike bar or two myself except that today is weigh in day at boot camp and I don't really want to go up in weight for the sake of going up.

Nonetheless, it was a wonderful Memorial day weekend. And while I did think of the veterans in my life, I also thought of the people that I've lost along the way. While they may not have died in battle, it's still a nice day to remember. And play Battleship.

The Gauntlet Has Been Thrown

Last night Chef and I made a big decision. Well, the Biggest decision. We challenged each other to the Biggest Loser between the two of us. For 90 days starting on Tuesday (and taking a one-day hiatus on June 3rd for Chef's birthday), we will try to out do each other in the weight loss department. Like the show, we'll be basing our competiton on weight loss percentages and the stakes are big. Not $250,000, kind of big, but selfishly decadent kind of big.

I think I can take him. He's a dude and therefore will probably lose weight by blinking rapidly. Plus he's done fairly well on keeping to the meal plan and I am proud of him for that. Still, I work out more than he does, so I think that's where my edge lies.

I'm going to update the blog with our weekly weigh-in information. Not the actual pounds because I'm not that bold in letting the world how much I weigh. But the percentages will be tracked each week. I wish this week counted because I lost 2.45% in the first 10 days of boot camp. I might bitch about the meal plan (and I will bitch about any meal plan that doesn't feature cheese, bread and chocolate), but it works and I'm actually feeling better.

When Will You Learn, Reality Couples??

Jon & Kate Plus 8. I admit it. I watched the show a few years back when Patrick was hoarding the front TV for his Xbox extravaganza nights. I was deeply interested in the logistics it takes to run a household of 8 kids. Especially when 6 are too young to pee on their own. It was interesting and not a little bit deterring from any accidental child-bearing of my own.

Kate didn't bother me too much because I could understand being snippy with Chef if I were trapped at home with 8 kids, even if I chose it. But as the show has gone on, it seems to have gone away from what everyone wanted to see: the logistics and love it takes to make a family of 10 happen. Plus the Gosselins started getting one-upped by larger families and their reality shows. I think the turning point for me was when both the Gosselins started cashing in on the show's popularity to get free cosmetic surgery. I'm not saying that I wouldn't do it, but I would probably be prepared for some changes. Like my husband cheating or me thinking I'm too hot.

How many times have we seen this? How many couples have to go on reality TV with a steady, normal relationship to sacrifice and watch it implode before our eyes? I know the tempation is to go ahead and try because "Surely, we're stronger and smarter than Nick Lachey and Jessica Simpson." It's an easy thing to think, but let me assure, you're not. It's not how smart you are, or how long you've been together. It's television. It's fame. It's every bad thing you ever did, every stupid thing you ever said, all bundled together in neat 22 minute segments for America to judge.

You may be special enough to have cameras follow you around all the time, but you are not special enough to handle the toll that takes. No matter how smart you are.

Why is Jon wearing an IU t-shirt? I'm befuddled.

Why is Kate wearing that hair? Also befuddling.

Frankly, Scarlett, We don't give a damn. Just hand us the food.

There are some nights when you can't believe the people you meet. And that's without even leaving your home. Friday night was one of those nights. After having spent the night at Wal-Mart, Dick's Sporting Goods, Petsmart and Kroger buying Soap Scum remover, water bottles, cat food and human food, among other things, I went home exhausted and excited about starting the meal plan...on Saturday. I mean, it's just silly to start a meal plan two thirds of the way into the day, right?

So to celebrate our new begining, Chef and I went out with a Bang. Or a breadbowl to be more precise. A suprisingly delicious card-loaded (saying my last goodbyes before I'm relegated to two servings of whole grains--one of which is oatmeal) pasta-filled breadbowl from Domino's. Not normally a place that would call to us, but it totally hit the spot. What really weirded us out was the delivery woman, Scarlett. The normal food delivery transaction is fairly simple and short, hand over food, exchange for money or signature on credit card receipt, close door. This night was different.

This woman chatted Chef up while he was getting the food and then demanded to see my driver's license before she would hand over the food. (I'd put the online order on my card). I did and she stood there with the door propped open for so long that Genghis ran out of the apartment. . .while she just stood there. No effort to get out of Chef's way or concern for our animal. She then proceeded to tell me that she and her mom ran a Barber business, but her mom died a year ago. "But I still come to people's houses to cut their hair," she said. "I can come back here and cut both of yours." She then handed me her business card.

After we FINALLY got her all the information she needed to process my card (urine sample, blood draw and 10 forms of id), she opened the warmer to find that she'd only brought half our order. I was immediately irritated mostly because I knew she'd have to come back. And she did a mere 10 minutes later. Of course it took 20 minutes because Chef had to spend the time talking to her about how pissed her manager was at her.

We thought the Scarlett saga was over until we heard a third knock at the door just as we were finishing. Scarlett had lost my credit card receipt and asked if she could have the one she'd given me back so that her manager wouldn't get pissed. When I finally found it and rewrote all the info on it, she asked me if I was from Nashville. When I said no, she then proceeded to talk about how much my mom must miss me because she misses her daughter who lives in a double-wide in North Carolina. I am not adding any detail to this. She told me this at the door as I was trying to politely close it. But after a while, being polite is not an option. When she went back into telling me how much my mom must miss me, I finally just snapped.

"My mom's been dead for 9 years. Have a nice night!" and shut the door.

If you're ordering Domino's from the Belcourt location, just make sure Scarlett doesn't deliver it. It almost made me glad that I'm not going to be ordering out for a while.

Going to the Grocery and I'm Going to Get Healthy

I sent the meal plan for boot camp to Chef yesterday and he did his Chef thing. He came up with some alternatives to egg whites and tuna, some seasonings for the bland stuff and then got me excited about eating healthy. Actually, even he got excited about eating fresh foods, so we're going to try this together. Since I go to the grocery once a week (friday night because it's less busy and I usually have no life), it is the perfect time to get started.

So it's not lean proteins, fruits, vegetables, complex carbohydrates and water. The meal plan that Harold sent (trainer dude from Marathon fitness) doesn't say anything about Diet Mountain Dew or Diet Dr. Pepper, so I feel like if I get my 64 oz. of water in, then I can drink my caffeine until my heart (or pounding head) is content.

Of course, now I'm running to the bathroom every few hours because I'm peeing all the time, but it has to be better for me than The Whale. The Whale was the 54 oz. fountain drink from Exxon On The Run I was starting my mornings with. It was only $1 for any size drink, so if you're gonna go, might as well go big, right? I mean, it just makes fiscal sense to pay less than 2 cents per ounce when you can. It's revelations like these that make me know that I'm my father's daughter despite any moments when I might doubt it.

Where are the carbs at?

On Tuesday I started a boot camp with the other people in my office and I'm excited about it. I'm ready to have a little stead influence to kick my butt into shape. Even if it does leave me sore for two days and wondering if my butt can take the kicking.

And I've lost weight before. I never was able to say that until about 18 months ago when I started moving more and eating less. It was successful, but I'd still like to take some more off and make some permanent changes.

With boot camp, we were given a meal plan. I've never really had a meal plan before and I'm not so sure about this one. The two things that I'm really having trouble with are the tuna (not such a big fan of fish) and the egg whites (I gag nearly all the time that I'm around eggs of any sort). I get that I'm supposed to be eating lean protein, but the thought of choking down tuna and egg whites every day makes me a little sick to my stomach.

However, seeing this does give me some ideas for other lean proteins that I could be eating, but don't. I wonder if I can negotiate my way into some whole grain tortillas and turkey. There has to be some alternatives for this eating plan. I'm thinking I can do this, but Chef will definitely have to help out on seasoning front!

Too many bad decisions catching up with me

There are days when months and weeks worth of bad decisions seem to come to the forefront of your mind and sleeping then seems impossible. I've been having the last few weeks like this. None of my bad decisions were cataclysmic, or at least causing death or physical injury. Some cause hurt feelings and an increased waistline, but hopefully time and exercise and better decisions can help fix those.

There are times when I feel like I put work ahead of all else and start to feel exceedingly selfish. I'm not home enough. I'm not with my friends enough. I'm not writing enough. It makes me wonder if I'm hiding behind the job so as not to have to really live or if I'm just an overachieving control freak that has to do the best I can at things that are measured. If I put a goal to friendship that was measured bi-annually, would I be more likely to try and achieve than just to let it go?

And then there's the inner struggle of knowing that even if I make bad decisions, that doesn't make me a bad person. I'm still a good person that makes mistakes. And my mother always told when I was stressing out too much and losing my hair in high school (yes, I had a bald spot that time and cortisone injections helped cure), "There are few decisions in life that we can't unmake." I might eat chicken planks from Long John Silvers, but I can have a salad and try to make better choices today. I can be home in the 5 o'clock hour instead of the 7 o'clock hour. I can listen more and talk less. I can let things go. I can be a better friend. I can start today.

Fiesta Con Queso

There are just some days when cheese is all you want. And by "you" I mean those of you non-lactose intolerant people. This is the story of what happens when twitter, cheese and a good boyfriend all mix together.

I wrote yesterday that all I wanted for dinner was various forms of cheese. Chef, being loving and devoted as he is, read this and took it as his personal challenge to help me fulfill my all cheese dream. After much consideration, I had the following for dinner:

• Freshly made cheese crisps (both cheddar, mozzarella and mixed)
• Boursin Garlic & Herb with water crackers
• Hot pretzel with Spray Cheese (I'm no cheese snob-all inclusive here)
• Fondue (bought broccoli for dipping, but decided to eat the bread only)
• Mozzarella cheese sticks
• Cheesecake

We were going to order Papa John's cheese sticks, but after much debate I decided that six courses of cheese were enough to satiate me for a while. The drawback, however, is the incredible amount of chaos I have now done to my intestinal tract. Perhaps it will be all Activia and roughage all the time next week.

It was worth it though.

Take Most (but not all) of it off

My job is weird. Some days it's your everyday, 9 to 5 meetings, phone calls and emails type of gig. Other days it's working with fabulous volunteers who make you feel lucky to have contact with them. Yesterday it was a Burlesque car wash.

Groups do events with the proceeds going to us a lot. Some times the events are fun and some times they want to do more than just raise money. They want to help get the message out there. This was one such event. The group of ladies (called Music City Burlesque) does a car wash every month in the summer to raise money for different charities. They also do other events, but this was the one they asked me to.

It was a hoot. The girls were all super nice and very hard working. The crowd generated was a group that probably wouldn't have been touched by our cause in any other way. But aside from all that, it gave me a new respect for burlesque. There's a sense of body image that comes with performing that these ladies have in spades and I want.

They could care less if they weren't the best bodies in Nashville. They were just in touch with their sexuality. And it wasn't the kind of "in your face" sexuality that comes from a BritneySpears car exit either. It was a throwbackto the pin-up girl and fish net tights. High shoes at all times and long eyelashes. It truly made me want to get a little more in touch with my femininity in that way instead of that June Cleaver dresses and cardigans I normally sport.

I don't know if I'll be in a burlesque show any time soon, but I think it's got me intrigued.

It's morning and I'm getting old

A few years ago, I made it my mission to stay up to midnight every night (or nearly every night) that I could for a year. I don't know why I made this a mission. Perhaps I thought it would inspire me to use the extra time to write more or get creative. I didn't have cable at the time and wasn't a big fan of late night TV, so I ended up spending a lot of time listening the garbled dial tones of my computer connecting to the internet.

Back then it was no big deal to be online until 1 a.m. and still be fresh for work at 8:30. Now I can't even make it past 10 p.m. on most nights without Patrick waking me up on the couch for snoring. What the hell happened to me?

No body told me that getting older would mean a lessened ability to bounce back after long nights. Of course, there is the freedom of staying up without having a curfew or a roommate who brings home a dude to have sex in the bunk above you. I'm just saying.

Darkness comes after the 'Twilight'?

A few months back my friends (and there were several of you out there) persuaded me to give the 'Twilight' series a try. The aforementioned friends also got me to jump on the 'Harry Potter' bandwagon fairly early, so I was more apt to give their reading suggestions a whirl.

However, 'Twilight' is no 'Harry Potter.' It feels like it was written by a repressed Mormon. I can sense the danger in mentioning their touches, but this is 2009. Few dudes, Master Vampire or not, is going to take the chivalrous route to sex. I get that he comes from a much earlier time, but I'm still not buying what she's selling.

Aside from that, Bella is a pretty pathetic chick. She's ruled by a dude she met and fell madly in love with. She moves away from her mom and shows very little interest in her dad, other than wanting him alive and sparing him harm. Why didn't Meyer just kill the parents like most good kids books do? She's not necessarily strong or endearing and other than being the "new kid", I'm not sure anyone in Forks would've paid much attention to her. I'm not buying Edward's intrigue other than his inability to use his "powers" on her.

Look, I'm all for books that get people reading. Especially kids. So for that, I'm going to respect "Twilight." But while Harry Potter took me to a world where things were entirely different, Edward just falls flat. Instead of learning about Quidditch, we get...baseball? really!?!?! Also length is only NOT an issue if the story is constantly moving forward. Potter repeats itself a lot, but mostly following the format of repetition in kids' books. Twilight just feels like it's haphazardly put together and things made up at the end to pull the pieces together. Not interwoven into the plot.

And before people get pissed, I'll let you know that I'm into the third book. I keep trying to find that spark that makes me a fan, because I want to be if it's worthy, but I haven't yet. Perhaps book four? Until then, I'll just watch the Twilight movie. Shorter plot, less moony dialogue and Robert Pattinson (aka Cedric Diggory).

Kids Aren't Cats, Madonna

I'm actually fairly excited that Malawi stood up to Madonna. Well, so far. Why must celebrities take children from their impoverished areas and adopt them? Doesn't it make more sense to try and change the environment that produces so many children that need help?

I guess I don't get it. I mean, I understand wanting to save things. I adopted three cats under the assumption that I was providing them with a better life and saving them from certain death or inferior owners. But cats aren't kids. I know it's selfish and pompous of me to think that I'm doing better for any these cats than any other person who loves animals.

It's similarly pompous to think that it's better for a child to give them the luxuries of Western civilization than to experience their culture and community. I'm not knocking Madonna as a mother, but wouldn't it be a better opportunity to raise awareness about the plight of children in these areas. People don't feel like they can adopt every needy child. However, they can help fund organizations that do good for kids in Africa.

Let's hope that celebrities soon realize that kids aren't cats and instead of adopting, they actually work to do something to help the impoverished children everywhere.

We're Tired of You, A-Rod. Leave Us Alone

Was it not enough that we had to spend three weeks hearing about his use of steroids that now we have to endure even more?

Yes, Alex Rodriquez is a good baseball player. Okay, a great baseball player. And he has the perfect storm of playing in the largest market (New York), looking good (although I prefer Jeter), and breaking up marriages (Madonna's). But does he really need to keep fueling the fire? Is he that much of a publicity whore?

The answer is yes. After spending weeks leading up to the World Baseball Classic (where he was supposed to play for the Dominican Republic- and they could've used him), going over every emotion, lie and sideways glance A-Rod gave about steroids, we had to deal with hearing about his injured hip. It took surgery to repair and now A-Rod is convalescing. We were all supposed to be given a break. Baseball, the media, A-Rod and most importantly people who believe Albert Pujols is the true baseball icon of the era. But, no. A-Rod had to do a magazine photo spread.

In Details, he kisses himself in the mirror. Isn't that what we've all suspected all along? That as much as A-Rod loves baseball, he loves himself most of all. I know I've perpetuated the cycle by talking about it, but I'm tired of A-Rod. We need a break.

Who to cheer for or against?

For the first time in many years, I have no one to really cheer for or against in this year's NCAA basketball tournament. For those of you that know me, this is a problem.

First, I love my Hoosiers. I love them this year despite winning only one Big Ten season game and 6 games total. It was a brutal year, but the brutality came because Kelvin Sampson messed things up. Not because the recruiting was bad or the kids weren't trying as hard as they could. It stinks to suffer through a year like that, but it's not so bad when you realize that it's temporary.

Second, I hate UK. I always have. Didn't matter if it was Pitino, Tubby or Gillespie. In recent years they've had our number and that's pissed me off, but it's the overall rivalry and fact that they have two more national championships than the Hoosiers do that really gets to me.

With both IU and UK out of the tournament in the same year for the first time since I don't even know when, it has me sad. My dad always jokes that I have at least one bracket with the Hoosiers winning it all. And he's right. I usually let my fantasies get the best of me at least once tourney time. But this year, that's not event possible.

It's also not possible to pick UK as the first #1 seed to lose against a #16. Without either of those hopes, the tourney just isn't that interesting to me.

Sure, I can root for Michigan State or Purdue because they're Big Ten teams. I even like Purdue, which is contrary to many Hoosier fans' mentality, but I like rooting for Indiana teams, even if "Indiana" isn't splashed across their chests.

And I can argue that Memphis is the perennial loser who complains about not being a #1 seed, plays no one and then loses when it counts. They made it all the way to the big game last year and that's cool, but the season of blowing through Conference USA teams didn't really prepare them for close games. No where was that more evident than letting Chalmers launch the three to tie when the Tigers could've fouled and sent him to the line for two. That kind of mentality doesn't just turn on in March.

So this year, I'm going to have to be selfish. I'm going to have to root for whichever team (and I've yet to pick) that I have going to the finals. Because I have no emotion directing my picks. No sentamentality or hatred to guide my pencil. I can just pick a team I think has a good shot at winning and then cheer like hell that they win so I can collect the money. It's what Clark Kellogg does every year Ohio State doesn't make it into the tourney.

Watched My Watch During 'Watchmen'

Chef and I went to see "Watchmen" on the big screen this Tuesday. And by big screen, I mean, BIG screen. The IMAX. The last thing we saw on the IMAX was "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix", which I have watched enjoyably at least 5 times since.

However, "Watchmen" was different. I knew nothing about it going in, which is usually how I like to see movies. If I know too much expectations (one way or another) are built and I usually end up leaving disappointed. All I knew was that I'd seen "300" and "Sin City" multiple times each and while they're pretty graphic, both were also really interesting.

"Watchmen" was different. And not the good kind of different. The story lines were too drawn out and boring. They didn't at all explain why these people dressed up to fight crime and how they learned their special powers. They also didn't really explain why the public hated them so much to cause their hiding.

And then there was Billy Crudup. I hate him. I don't have a rational reason. Maybe I just hated his character in "Inventing the Abbotts" way back when and tranferred it on to him, but other than "Almost Famous," I typically avoid him. I even cringe when I hear his voice on the Mastercard Priceless commercials. But I digress.

Billy Crudup's character in this movie could by the most interesting, but he isn't. I was annoyed every time Dr. Manhattan came onto the screen. He was boring and pretentious, which are two thing you want to shy away from in a comic book movie.

The action scenes were graphic and exciting, it was visually very pretty, but overall, I was bored watching "Watchmen". It was way too long (over 2 1/2 hours) and so in love with itself that it didn't seem to need to explain or justify the characters actions than with little more than a montage. I don't know what woman on earth would be beat and nearly raped by someone, and then a few years later fall in love with them and bear their child (Silk Spectre).

There are just too many things to overlook. If it were me and I knew before I went what I know now, I would've just stayed home and watched "The Dark Knight" again.

Vetin' Ain't Easy

On Friday, Chef and I took two of our cats to the vet. Mila and Attila got their first taste of shots, Nashville style. How that would differ from the style they got them in their old hometown, I'm not quite sure, but I like the sound of it better.

The thing about the vet is that we try to hide our cat mania to a certain extent. We don't tend to gush too much or elaborate about their personalities, but instead come prepared with intelligent questions. This time went much better than the last time, that's for sure.

The last time we visited the vet, we got a vet who we were told loved cats. Being that Genghis is a Pixie Bob and polydactyl, he tends to get a lot of attention. We had come in for shots and decided against getting one of them. When I was explaining our position to the vet, she was appalled that we would rather take our advice from many testimonials than her veterinary education and year or so of practice. I told her that I would take her advice if she did a little research on our breed of cat before making a recommendation, but that just pissed her off more. It was a showdown the likes of which I'm sure will be repeated in doctor's offices for our future children. Needless to say, we have a different vet within the same clinic now.

The cats are healthy and thriving. And we got a solution that seems to be working for Mila's poop problem. Nothing says love like clenaing up piles of turds from carpet. At least the carpet is brown too.

Rush, both a name and a feeling

I'm tired of Rush Limbaugh. Sick of him and his big bloated carcass. Sick of having the bile come up from my stomach and reach the back of my tongue every time I hear his voice.

Look, Rush is in it for the money. If he actually believed a lot of what he was spewing, he would be married to his first (not third) wife, and would have the discipline of a monk. Instead he's failed at marriage, failed at sobriety and taking it out on others.

Everyone has a right to say what they want. That's what's so great about this country. But what sucks is that we falsely believe that the loudest voice wins. Rush is trying to be the loudest voice. Would he have ever called for a debate with George W. Bush when he was president? Hell, no. Even though Republicans (and notice that I didn't say conservatives) hated a lot of Bush's policies (especially when it came to fiscal responsibility) too.

Is it the Republican's new strategy to send a big blowhard to throw stones and then look like they're not so bad comparatively? I'm not getting it. Neither are Americans.

One party, one decision, one bill, did not get us into this mess. One party, one decision, one bill is not going to get us out of it.

Can We Go Back to Previously Written Programming Now?

Last night I was watching The Biggest Loser, as I'm apt to do on Tuesday nights, and was highly disappointed. While I like the show and am enthralled, I'm also pissed off about it.

First, it is nearly always two hours long. It doesn't need to be. The weigh ins alone take 30 minutes which seems reasonable when you have like 20 people, but ridiculous when it's down to 10. Cut some of Bob's jaw dropping and Jillian's smirking head shaking and let's just get to it.

I know the show likes to think of itself as changing humanity by showing a bunch of people losing weight, but it's just a TV show. Many of the previous contestants have gained the weight back, so it's not any more important or impacting as Weight Watchers. Just more public and with money on the line.

But aside from all of my gripes, what I was mostly thinking was: Is reality TV finally starting to wane? "Survivor" is blah, "American Idol" is predictable and despite my previous rabid fandom, I have yet to see an episode of this season's "Amazing Race".

The thing that made that type of show so profitable for networks is the same thing that is eventually going to get them: no writing. Well, let me take that back. We know that the shows are written, but no creative content is involved. So with that comes the ability to work around a writers strike, crank out material with "protagonists" that are free and to do it on a 3 month life cycle. Sometimes less.

But it wasn't until I cursed "30 Rock" for being a repeat or said "Damn you, Scrubs! we've only had 6 episodes!" that I realized what was happening. The economics of it all were coming into play in a different way. Sure, The Biggest Loser is never a rerun, but really the whole show is one big rerun. The only thing different from one week to the next is who got kicked off (unless it's a stupid stunt week where they cut off who will be kicked off until the next week which just pisses me off more--Yes, Biggest Loser, I'm talking to you). When I tune into "The Office," I don't know what's going to happen from one week to the next. That's why I love it.

It's the writing. We knew it was important, but now it's even more important. Because while reality shows will always have a place on cable, where huge audiences are expected and shoe string budgets USED to reign true, they don't need to be so prevalent on networks. When they have been, cable stations stepped up and created well written shows that got noticed. Now the networks are scrambling to catch up.

So the next time there's a writers strike, don't watch any reality TV either. Let's show the networks that writing is important.

Today I learned about Cows

Yes, that's right. Today I did some research on cows. My friend asked me to do some writing for a project of his and I said yes. Because I was flattered and because I need a deadline to get real writing done. Not that blogging isn't real, but I only had 6 entries last month. I'll do better this month, I promise.

Anyway, back to cows. I expected to learn a little about them, but I actually learned a lot and in the process realized that if we all learned a little more about cows, we might not treat them as badly as we do. But anyway, one of the things I learned was the difference between different types of cattle. Yes, I know the difference between a bull and a cow, but did you know that an ox is a castrated male used for its power? Or that a heifer is a female that hasn't had a calf. Cows only refer to females that have had a calf and bulls are all males. Steer are castrated males that we use for beef. I think they're all used for leather, but I didn't get the far in my research.

I've read Fast Food Nation, so I know how shitty we treat cows for fast food purposes, but it was interesting to be a little more cow-knowledgeable. Like the auroch was the first type of domesticated cattle AND the first species of animal to become extinct. The dodo bird was the second and yet it gets all the glory.

Anway, enough about cows for now. Next I'm on to relationships. I'll be the latest and greatest Dr. Laura Schlessinger. Except less bitchy and with more understanding.

Oscar Schmoscar

I tried as best as I could to ignore the Oscars. There's just something about a bunch of rich people wearing expensive clothes to give out awards for who can pretend the best that doesn't really do it for me. The catty pre-show red carpet comments and post mortem fashion reports I totally dig (and by the way, Miley, that dress was done better without the sparkles by Oscar de La Renta).

I'm biased, I admit it. I'm not a big Hugh Jackman fan and prefer Jon Stewart to, well just about anyone in the world--except Tina Fey. But if you want a nice, safe Oscar ceremony with only one or two jabs at those in the room, then Jackman is your man.

It was nice to see the 5 presenters, but instead of an awkward reason why they love the nominee, how about a little more about the movie or role that was nominated. Let's be honest: most of those nominated roles haven't been the biggest box office draws.

And lastly, I was disappointed in Heath Ledger's family. I know they aren't actors, and it's rude for me to criticize, but I expected some tears. The people in the crowd (yes, mostly actors) were more touched by his win than his family seemed. My mom has been gone for 9 years and if I won a local award that was even slightly connected to her, I think I would crumble in tears. Squeeze one out and you would've had me. But they didn't. They just read their nice speeches and gave Matilda a shout out.

Can anyone tell me why Jennifer Aniston and John Mayer were there in the second row? I know she's an actress, but was she in a movie in 2008? Or was this just a cruel joke from the Oscar planners to have her so near Brad and Angelina?

So many questions, so little time.

It was More than Enough

I admit it. I watched the Dateline interview with Nadya Suleman last week. The mother of the octuplets and 6 other kids is a woman who has me enthralled. I can't turn my head from the train wreck that is this media blitz.

I'm not someone who judges others for having kids out of wedlock. I don't think a wedding band qualifies you as a good parent. And I think it's wonderful that people feel a deep need or calling into motherhood.

What I don't understand are the following:

• If you believe that things are "God's Will" but use artificial means to get pregant, aren't you defying God's will?
• Using government financial aid for things other than directly related costs can be deemed illegal and is taking away from the hundreds of thousands of people going to school and supporting themselves.
  
• If destroying the embryos was not an option for her, why did she have so many made?
• If reputable adoption agencies would turn you down because of your inability to provide consistent financial support, shouldn't that be a sign to rethink having kids or how many kids to have?
• How can one person's lips grow to three times their normal size in a few years without surgical help?
• How can you blame the media for the hailstorm around your life when you are constantly commenting to the media AND using the attention to raise money through your own web site (that has since been taken down)?
  

I hope the kids grow up healthy, and adjusted. I hope there is eventually peace in that home. I hope the nuts out there stop dropping death threats on Nadya Suleman and all those around her. I don't expect to have my piddly questions answered because it's not my life. But I couldn't help but ask them.

I'm going to take my investing advice from the government, too!

I opened my Marie Claire last week and was happy to see Jennifer Aniston, Drew Barrymore and Ginnifer Goodwin on the cover. Mostly because I like all three actresses and thought "What the hey. I'll actually read an article about celebrities being interviewed. It was a bad decision.

Sure, the movie was "He's just not that into you," but do I really want to hear what three celebrities have to say about relationships? Yes and no. Yes, if they're going to dish about their famous loves and losses. No, if they're going to try and explain everything they've learned about love and themselves in a moment of self-discovery.

Jennifer Aniston is divorced. Ginnifer Goodwin is single. Drew Barrymore has been married and divorced and married and divorced and married and divorced. Do I really want to take relationship advice from that? Do I really care about their moments of epiphany that hit the average non-famous person about 10 years earlier? Does being rich mean that instead of worrying about the money coming in, the rent ot be paid and all that, you get to ponder about yourself for hours on end? Apparently the answer is yes.

I don't live an unexamined life. I do put thought and effort into my relationship with Chef. However, I don't talk with him about it for hours on end and set my boundaries and constantly express my wants and needs. Maybe that's why we're together.

So, in other words, 30 seems to be the age to the questions: How old are you before you really stop caring if Jennifer Aniston finds life fulfilling?Or how old are you when you could care less if Drew Barrymore finds happiness?

Last of the Birthday Celebrations

This weekend, my stepfather and his fiance visited me for my birthday. It was officially the last of the birthday celebrations and just like the others, it was wonderful and special. Jack came down and met Chef and I at our apartment. We introduced him to the cats (particularly Genghis who is the most social) and had a great time.

One special thing that happened was the passing along of my mother's engagement ring. I have the ring my father gave her. Or actually Chef has it to be utilized in the melding of many different rings that will eventually make up the engagement ring he chooses to give me.

However, for many reasons, I decided to keep my mom's engagement ring from Jack as it is. It is a gorgeous ring and one that she was very proud of for many reasons. Mostly because it symbolized the love she got from a wonderful man who made her happy. Naturally, I cried when he gave it to me. I thought of the last time I'd seen it on her hand. It was on her hand in the casket at the showing. I remember the car ride Jack and I took together on our way up to the funeral.

"That ring is yours," he said. "Your mom told me to take it back, but I wouldn't think of it. It's yours now or whenever you want it."

I didn't want it then. I was 21 and while I appreciated the ring as it had been between Jack and mom, I couldn't appreciate what it really meant. I hadn't been in a relationship and also knew that I wasn't mature enough to take care of it. So we decided that I would get it at 30. To make the birthday even more special and to give me time to experience all the things I would need to to give the ring value to me.

I knew when I opened it up and the tears flowed that I had made the right decision. I knew that it would mean something different to me than it had my mother. With her, it had meant someone who valued her so much that he would do anything for her. Even celebrate her daughter's 30th birthday when she couldn't be there to do it herself.

To me, it represents the independence she found right before she got it, the security she felt with it and that the only two women that have worn it were strong enough to realize they didn't need someone to rely on, but were open to love nonetheless.

I Went Red For Women

In full disclosure, I work for the American Heart Association. Most of you know that, but I just wanted to get it out there again. And on most days I love working there. Friday was one of those days.

Friday was National Wear Red Day were we get together and have a bunch of things (people, schools, buildings, etc) Go Red in honor of women and heart disease. The first few years it was to raise awareness that heart disease is the No. 1 killer of women. Now that more women know that than ever before, it's also to get people to take action.

What seems like a small day of awareness and media on the outside is actually the end result of months and months of planning. To be honest, as an American Heart Association employees, I chuckle every time I get a call mid-January from a company that would like us to help spread the word on heart disease in February. Mostly because more conversations start with a person telling me "February is Heart Month, you know?". Trust me. I know.

But I digress. This past Friday was a different day for me than any other. I got to spend the day at a local mall (I didn't buy a thing and it was probably my best day at a mall EVER) talking to women about Go Red For Women and being a part of a local casting call and beauty event. Macy's Ecotage salon came down and did hair and make up for anyone who wanted a touch up. It was a lot of fun. Probably the most fun and touching part was listening to everyone tell their stories of choice. Choices they made after they had a heart issue or choices they made now to prevent one.

I am truly amazed at these remarkable women. Not just those who told there story, but also the 20 or so volunteers that came out to help facilitate the event. Not 6 months ago, we did not have a strong base of volunteers to help us get the message out. What I've learned (and it's an important lesson) is that all you have to do is ask.

So even now, two days after Wear Red Day, as I look back at the event and the couple hundred people that took part in some way, I feel lucky to have a job that lets me have days like that. Where months of work culminates in a day when I get to tangibly see and hear the lives that are changed by the place I work. I get to marvel at the talent of my co-workers and their level of commitment. I get to see the passion and devotion of people I just met who want to be a part of this message.

I Went Red For Women. I hope you did too.

Smoke it if you got it

I woke up on Monday morning to the news of Michael Phelps and his date with a "marijuana pipe." First of all, I was wondering what a "Marijuana pipe" looked like. I know what a onie looks like, a bowl, and a bat. I've seen bongs, but never have I seen a "marijuana pipe". (My IU education has taught me many things well.)

So, after much curiosity, the Today Show showed the actual photo of Michael Phelps taking a huge bong hit. I don't know for sure if it was huge, but he's a large guy and has swimmers lungs. He totally has to take a big ol' breath to get properly high.

I don't think that smoking weed is that big of a deal. Of all the drugs that someone can use, it seems to have less effects to society than even alcohol. Billions of dollars that can be better used are spent every year by the DEA to fight weed instead of things like cocaine or meth or even prescription drug abuse. California passed a law making the sell of marijuana for medical use legal. However, because federal law supercedes it, the DEA spends time and resources shutting down legally operating facilities. It's like shooting fish in a barrel.

But whatever my personal feelings are aside, Phelps is an idiot. It's bad enough that he got a DUI at 19, but what idiot is on the cover of Sports Illustrated and then thinks that he or she can smoke weed at a college party without anyone noticing. There are cameras everywhere!! Anyone can snap a pic with their cell phone and the world can see it in less time than it takes to pack a bowl.

So, while it won't affect my opinion of him that he's a potsmoker, it does affect me that he's an idiot. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, come up with a better apology.

I'm off to finish my glass of wine. Legal and delicious. And it won't make you cough.

25 Random Things

I was tagged--many many times, so I am contributing.

Rules:Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, you are supposed to choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because you already tagged me or I want to know more about you. I chose not to inflict this painful but somewhat fun self-reflective exercise on 25 "friends." It's like a virus. (To do this, go to “notes” under tabs on your profile page, paste these instructions in the body of the note, type your 25 random things, tag people, then click publish.)

1. I am scared of being impaled through a car window with deer antlers. It has to do with summer driving in Indiana and our family nailing a deer one night in the Oldsmobile.

2. My dad got me Backstreet Boys tickets for my 21st birthday because I asked for them.

3. I went to see them two times. The biggest plus was that the beer lines were super short.

4. I've had to pretend to like women's basketball to avoid confrontation and I'm ashamed.

5. In high school while working in a sporting goods store, my butt was stuck to a toilet seat.

6. I wrote about the experience and overcoming obstacles to win a partial college scholarship.

7. In high school, I used to wear white t-shirts, and stick glow sticks in my cleavage at parties.

8. At the Eagle's Nest in Germany, I was able to get a private tour because one of our hosts was pushy. It was awesome.

9. My first car was named Carlos and was a 1984 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme. Even without air conditioning and a CD player, it was awesome.

10. In 6th rgade, I was a member of the city's 2nd place African-American Academic Olympic team and didn't realize I was the only white team member until years later looking back on the pictures.

11. In high school, I was on the softball and volleyball teams, cheerleading squad, school newspaper, yearbook staff, and National Honor Society, but all I really wanted to do was write and drink like Ernest Hemingway. But I hadn't read any of his books yet.

12. My family owns a restaurant that's been around for 60 years and still serves the best spaghetti I've ever eaten.

13. While working as a waitress at the above restaurant, I would change my outfits, cleavage, accent and hairstyles to see how it affected my tips. However, nothing affected my tips like someone telling the customer I was the owner's niece.

14. I have a picture of my mom standing on top of the Twin Towers in New York and it freaks me out. Both aren't with us any longer.

15. I've seen David Sedaris read three times and still can't get enough of him.

16. I thought I hated cats until I got one. Then two more.

17. I once had a "love spell" pouch that I wore to a bar and lost while playing air hockey with the guy I was trying to "put under my spell." It didn't work.


18. I've tried many, many many times to read non-contemporary books, but I can't seem to really enjoy them.

19. My mom once hit me in the eye with Tabasco and told me to wash it out in a pool. I was supposed to get Tabasco in my mouth for cussing at my brother.

20. Chef and I met on the Internet. I used to think it was weird. Now it's mundane.

21. As a sophomore in high school, I read every book I could get my hands on about basketball in Indiana.

22. I can still remember all the lyrics to the "U Can't Touch This" parody cheer my old softball team had. Lachelle, Jamie and Sarah were good at making our cheers the best.

23. I ran into a girl during a softball game and accidentally broke her leg. The bone was sticking through the skin and required many surgeries. She was my teammate.

24. My dream job is to be a sports radio talk show host for ESPN. No make-up, sports and I get to talk for 4 hours. Bliss.

25. I am hopelessly addicted to carbs. Mostly in the form of loafs.

T Minus Three Hours Until I'm 30

I woke up this morning a little depressed, as I prepared for my last few hours of my twenties. It was less about turning 30 and what I try to think of as just another birthday. It was more about missing my mom. Something about this time of year always makes me sad. When I think of our birthdays just a few weeks apart, I think of us when we were living together alone. . .just the two of us. We would each try to outdo each other making our birthdays special.

But just as I was reflecting upon my life thus far and what I've accomplished and how work is going to have me slammed for the next few weeks, the mail came. What a weird thing. The paper mail is so antiquated in today's digital age, but who doesn't still get excited when they get a letter or card or something other than direct mail. But I'd gotten a slip of paper that said I had a package at the post office. I expected it to be a present or something from a friend. Instead it was much better.

Today I got five copies of the book my story is published in. It was the first time that I've been published in book form. Magazine, newspaper, online and other forms, but never in a book. It totally lifted my spirits. I felt proud and excited to enter a new decade. This one hasn't been so bad. It started off rocky (mom dying), but ended up spectacular with many things I'm thankful for: Chef, my relationship with my dad, niece and nephew, move to Nashville, job trials and tribulations and successes, and a great group of friends to help me through. Not too shabby for the first 30 years. Can't wait to see what the next 30 will bring.

Hopefully one thing is Saint Oprah Day. Oprah and I share a birthday and I'm hoping fellow Catholics will overlook her religion and the 100+ years it takes for canonization and make her a Saint. Then I hope it becomes a federal holiday so that not only myself but the world can celebrate the day together. And that I won't have to take Paid Time Off to get the day off like I'm doing tomorrow. Maybe in the next 30.

It's like They're Famous

Every time I'm in a drug store lately, I stop by the aisle with Products Scene On TV and stare in wonder. It's like seeing Nicole Kidman at the movies. Those products are famous. Some of them have their own TV shows.

Of course I realize that I'm falling for it, but I want to try them. I've bought and use the PedEgg. I keep meaning to get a PediPaws for our cat (the only one with claws). I know the Kinoki foot pads are nothing but a crock, but the same part of me that likes to look at the Q tip after it's been in my ear yearns to buy a Kinoki foot pad.

It's not just the product themselves, but their pitchmen that have become famous. Billy Mays is just about a household name. He started off shilling OxyClean and now it's washers, insurance, miniature cheeseburger grills, whatever. He even did a spoof of himself with ESPN.

However, Billy has some competition now with Vince, from ShamWow and SlapChop fame. Vince simultaneously creeps me out and intrigues me. He seems to have one eye cocked as he peers from behind his Madonna-mic and spouts out things like "the Germans always make good stuff." He's almost mocking in his pitch but so subtlely that you have to pay attention to the pitch instead of the masterful product to really pick up on it.

However, no matter the pitchman or the product what always seems the most disappointing is the actual products. The glitz of owning one quickly fads when you realize that your pet isn't on valium like the ones on the PediPaws commercial or that ShamWow is more Sham and less Wow. I learned that the hard way years ago when I bought the PVA 10 X mop for a friend. Needless to say the entire can of coke we spilled on the floor to test its strength left a sticky residue for days.

And Now They're Gone

Yesterday my three closest friends from high school and college made the up to 7 hour trek from up north to visit me. Actually, they got here on Friday night and Chef made them a delightful "Welcome" meal, but I digress.

We talked, shopped and ate. . .all three in abundance. It was so easy to get back in a routine with them. That's something I always love about the girls. It doesn't matter how long we've been a part, we can always get together like no time has passed.

The only bad thing about them coming is them leaving. It always sucks to be the one that's being left, not the one doing the leaving. I get depressed when I leave them in Indiana, but I know that I'm going back home. Being at home and then having them here and gone, it makes me so much more sad. I am officially depressed but know that it was totally worth it to see them.

They came down to help me celebrate my 30th birthday, which is next Thursday. I don't know quite how I feel about turning 30. Everyone says it's great, but I don't know if that's because it's true or because it's inevitability makes optimism a prerequisite. Either way, I know I should be doing something big, but I just don't know what to do. I'm taking off of work, which is huge considering it's a very busy time of year. But other than sleeping in with Chef and cuddling cats, I'm not sure what to do. If anyone has any ideas, feel free to pass them along. I'm open to just about anything.

The Girls are Coming!

My girls are coming into town this weekend and I am so excited I can hardly stand it. Since I've last seen some of them in person, they've birthed a child, moved and gotten married. And I've been the horrible friend that's sat back and congratulated them from afar. Well, no more. They're coming down here to wreak some havoc and I'm ready.

Well, not quite ready. Chef has graciously agreed to prepare a lovely meal for us all and we have yet to determine the final menu. So I need to go shopping for the ingredients. And of course there is the issue of cat litter. While we will be using the LitterKwitter to toilet train the cats, we have yet to use it with all three cats. So despite vacuuming twice a week, we have 12 paws that carry the litter outside the box and into the immediate bathroom area. Two seconds after we vacuum, dustbuster or use the broom, one of the three (usually Genghis) goes in to do business.

But aside from the litter issue and grocery shopping, I am mentally ready to hang out with my best chick friends for a while.

Do they still make those?

The other day I was watching TV with Chef and ran across an ad for a local discount furniture store. They were nice enough to adhere to all my aforementioned local TV ad pointers, but were advertising something I hadn't seen in a long time: waterbeds.

I instantly looked at Chef and said "Do they still make those?" He replied with the "obviously they do or they wouldn't be advertising them," look. But it caused me to wonder who still owns a waterbed? Better yet, who is just now purchasing one? If there's someone with a waterbed out there, can you please leave a comment or contact me because I'm very curious.

In an era of sleep number beds, space age tempurpedic materials, feathered mattresses and the like, why would one choose a bed that shifts every time you breathe? The last experiences I've had with waterbeds happened in the mid-80s. I was in my youth and an uncle and a babysitter boh had waterbeds. I thought they were really cool and begged both until I got to sleep on one. That night I ended up wedged between the mattress on the side and the padded frame. To get out of the bed, I had to manuveur precariously and in a rolling motion. It was like have to watch the tide until you could go out into the ocean. I didn't want to get caught in the undertow.

Seriously, the curiosity is killing me. What is the allure in 2009 of a waterbed? Can someone help me?

Tina Fey is WAY Better than Sarah Palin

Sarah Palin recently sat down with conservative filmmaker John Ziegler to answer questions for his documentary "Media Malpractice," aka "let's blame the media that Barrack Obama got elected." She blames the media for their obsession with her family. First, it is not a double standard that the family of a president or vice president --winner or candidate--gets roped in and put under scrutiny. And not just Republican families either. Ask Jimmy Carter how well his brother Billy helped his image. Or ask Chelsea Clinton if the media took it easy on her while she was in her teens. Here's the big thing: neither of them were pregnant as a teen when the candidate they were related to ran on a conservative platform. So, yes. There was that.

Then after talking about the double standard of reporting and how it hurt as a woman to have things like wardrobe brought up repeatedly, she called out two women for profiting from her campaign. First it was Katie Couric who originally questioned Palin about what media she read and Palin did not come up with a significant answer. Palin can apparently blame the media, but doesn't actually read, watch or listen to any of it.

Secondly, she slammed Tina Fey. Tina Fey of my favorite line "I want to go to there." Tina Fey of "Mean Girls"--the miracle worker whose words actually made Lindsay Lohan seem likeable. The one who won an Emmy for writing and acting for 30 Rock--NOT her Palin impressions. I wonder if Palin would've been as recognizable if Fey had not played her on SNL. And if it were so insulting that it was happening, why did Palin guest star on the show? Because the evil media was helping her then.

It's been two months since the election and Palin is still intwining herself with politcal pandering to those who might see her as a party leader in 2012. My only hope is that Republicans are doing less finger pointing and more looking at why they lost the election. Indiana had mass amounts of volunteers knocking on doors to get the word out and even Obama volunteers from Illinois to help gain interest. In doing so, a traditionally Red state that was neglected by the republicans for a long time went blue.

So lay off, Tina Fey. She's talented and can only see Emmys and Golden Globes from her house. Not Russia.

My Name is Ashley and I Have an Addiction.

The first step is admitting the problem, right? Well, I already know that I have an addiction to TV, but lately it's a more specific addiction than that. I'm addicted to Intervention and the ID channel.

Perhaps I'm phrasing it as an addiction just so that someone will want to do an intervention and therefore call the TV show Intervention for help. How happy I would be to sit in a hotel room with my family and Jeff Van Vonderen (he's my first choice--Ken Seeley my second and if it has to be Candy Finnegan then think again) telling me that I have family that "loves me like crazy"! Plus it would be 90 days of self-reflection, therapy and good weather. They rarely send a person to a crappy place like Nebraska. It's always some place sunny and by the sea.

The downside would be the whole addiction thing. Even my meager addiction to TV would not be enough to be sensationalized for the show. I'd have to go all out and like lose my job, friends and perhaps maime a cat before I'd qualify.

My other addiction is disturbing as well. I'm addicted to real life murder mysteries and serial killer profiles. Our TV automatically goes to Channel 111 (aka ID-Investigation Discovery) to check out Dateline or 48 Hours Mystery. I see the words "Ted Bundy" and I think "YES!". "BTK" sounds interesting to me. I don't want to die by the hands of a killer, but I am curious to know about those who have.

So, if I'm at home with Chef and the cats, chances are good we're exploring death, addiction, murder and cat litter. But not necessarily in that order.

I hate that I'm blogging about this (aka Damn You, Fergie)

This morning, as I was trying not to fall back to sleep too deeply because I only had an hour before I really had to get up, I thought about Josh Duhamel. It's not something I do often and with his track record of shitty acting gigs, apparently other people don't either. But I was watching SoapNet (as I'm apt to do because of their early morning One Tree Hill or 90210 reruns) and a picture of Vanessa Marcil came up.

"Is that crappy Las Vegas show still on? I really wish she'd go back to General Hospital," I thought. "Wow, Josh Duhamel hasn't done anything lately and has never done anything good."

It's a rapid-fire kind of train of thought I have. One of the great things about Soaps (be they daytime or primetime) is the incestuous mingling of castmates, which forever links them in my mind with other crappy things or castmates they've done.

Nonetheless, Duhamel's less than stellar resume of Transformers, Win a Date with Todd Hamilton and All My Children (by far the best role he's had) is nothing compared to his new role of being Mr. Fergie. He and Fergie got married today. Weird that I thought about him conciously for the first time in. . .well, ever.

While I don't find many redeeming qualities about either of them, Duhamel irritates me slightly less than Fergie because his London London London Bridge is still standing. However, the marriage does seem to be a public announcement that Fergie is his fair lady. And from all reports it was a small affair with a mere 10 bridesmaids. Anything less than double digits is just unacceptable.

So, while there may be many things wrong in your life, at least you didn't spend the day pledging your love and devotion to someone who counts a guy named Will.I.am as a bandmate. Hopefully, you watched football.

An Open Letter to Those who Advertise on local TV

Dear area car dealer, restaurant, realtor or other business owner,

I know that cable and local TV stations offer you an opportunity, and usually a pretty affordable one, to reach your local clients and even specific demographics. I'm a big proponent of utilizing this medium. In fact, my mom sold local advertising throughout my formative years, so you could say my straight teeth, relatively unblemished skin and above average public education are all because of local merchants seeking advertising.

However, as an expert in local TV advertising (meaning that I watch a lot--like a tremendous amount), I would like to pass along some tips for you to get your message out.

• Don't use your child or children in the ad. Seeing little Becky's face will not make me picture her starving because I didn't buy, sell, rent or lease from you. I especially hate any ads that create thought bubbles or voiceovers for babies--it's just creepy and wrong. Even if the child or children in the ad are old enough to decide for themselves to be in it, just say no. What they think sounds like a good idea at 10 will bite them in the ass in high school and college and lead to a creepy career path (see the Watson's girl). The same could be said for pets, but the rules are a little more lenient.
  
• Do not make up a theme song or jingle for your company. I realize this is especially hard to overcome in Nashville because of the proximity of so many great songwriters, but just don't do it.
  
• Use a catch phrase that actually makes sense for your business. To this day, there are thousands of people in Southern Indiana that can spout off "It's hot, Don." Don, didn't sell air conditioners, pools, ice cream, or cold beverages. Don sold cars, but few people remembered that. There's a business now that makes housecalls for something--I can't even tell you except that it isn't coffee related, and their phrase is "You make the coffee. We'll bring the cup." So now I've got to pay you AND do chores before you'll work with me!?!?!
  
• Jesus wouldn't co-brand, so don't make him. There are many people and businesses full of faith. And some of them are very sincere about their faith. However, when you start mentioning Jesus and business, no matter how sincere, the lines of sinning and shilling become blurred. If you want to profess your faith, find a way to do so that doesn't make me think you're co-branding with God.

So the next time you're spending the dough to bring more customers in, maybe-just maybe-it would be wise to invest in a few extra dollars for a local ad agency to help steer you clear of having spent lots of money to create an animated super hero to promote your furniture company.

I'm just saying.

If I were a Titans fan, I'd be pissed

Remember that guy in 2004 that was the League co-MVP? No, not Peyton. Steve McNair. Well, he originally agreed to host a Baltimore Ravens Pep Rally on friday night. Oh, and it was scheduled to be in Nashville across the street from LP Field.

Are you kidding me? Who on Steve McNair's staff thought it would be a good idea for him to host a pep rally before the first Titans home play off game in years for the opposing team? He played for the Oilers/ Titans organization for more than 10 years. He played in Baltimore for one. His name was just entered into the Ring of Whatever at LP Field.

Yes, I know originally the pep rally was for charity--but hosted by a sports radio station in Baltimore. I've got lots of experience with events like these. They typically raise a lot of awareness but not a ton of money. It's nice of him to want to give back, but if he's smart, he should write a check directly and not risk alienating the thousands of fans he has in Nashville--where he still lives.

Since the word hit Music City, he has since backed out. His agent denies that he was involved or knew it was a Ravens event. The radio station hosting/ coordinating the event says he knew. When it comes down to it, he probably did. I know there really isn't a lot of loyalty in sports these days. We hear that every day. However, it's a little different after you retire. After you retire, you are forever linked in the eyes of fans with the team that you spent the most time with. This team gave you the bulk of your earnings and those fans helped fund that team. It's not hard leap to make.

Most sports fans don't require retired players to be overtly loyal. They just expect them to not be overtly disloyal. And the charity probably doesn't want that either. Even though the Ronald McDonald house in Baltimore is benefiting, there could be some backlash to the same charity here. Trust me, it's not right, but it happens.

Here's hoping Peyton never does a pep rally for the Patriots. Even if it is for charity.

Another Biggest Loser Already?

I don't why I'm so sadistic. It seems like I can do nothing during an entire episode of the Biggest Loser but gobble down whatever I can get my hands on. It's almost the same thing with Intervention and having a glass of wine or beer. Instead of acting as a deterrent, it almost acts as a reminder of what instant gratification.

Either way, tonight the Biggest Loser premieres again. It just wrapped up the last season at the beginning of December, but with massive amounts of money to be made, it was "time to change lives." Look, I like the show. I watch it every week. But I really think the only reason they're doing another season so quickly is that with the New Year and resolutions, they can make more money. How? By plugging Jello, Zip-loc, Subway, and now General Mills during the "spontaneous" show segments.

Don't get me wrong. I'm still gonna watch, but I kinda feel like they rushed it a little. No big dramatic hometown surprises. Hopefully, they'll be some better, more likeable contestants this season.

Taking Swings at a Peeping Tom

It is a rare occasion that we have the cops called in my apartment complex. The area of town we live in is a nice part, but it's also in the middle of several bars, two universities and the people that are are attracted to those types of things. I've lived there for four years and while we get our fair share of dumpster divers and con artists angling for a buck, it's never been much to worry about.

Last night, however, as I was gearing up for bed and trying to avoid the dread of the first day back at work in two weeks, I heard some yelling. I asked Chef to mute the TV to see if he could hear it too and low and behold, were the sounds of two male voices. One was screaming "quit hitting me" and the other was screaming expletives and "just stay down then."

Chef threw on some non-pajamma clothes and headed outside as we could now hear a female voice screaming "I've called the police. Quit hitting him!!". While I wanted Chef to investigate, suddenly new fears came over me. What if he as the only dude had to intervene between two fighting guys? I threw some warm clothes on and headed out to make sure that he didn't get roped into anything.

The altercation happened a good 20 yards away. By the time we were out there, there was an audience of three of our neighbors, the two guys fighting and a girl in a short white robe. A mere moment later the police showed up. We sat there paralyzed in drama and found out that the man who was assaulted had been spotted outside the window of the man who did the assaulting. The couple had been in flagrante and the girl had noticed someone stopping outside their window on numerous occasions.

Apparently, there has been a peeping tom in our neighborhood for a few weeks now and while this man may or may not have been him, he tookt he brunt of it, so to speak. The accused peeper claimed to just be walking by, but the apartment is on the second floor, so it seems highly unlikely. What does seem likely is the scrubbing of the concrete where the alleged peeper got his beat down. Chef said the blood stains are still visible this morning from our apartment across the way.

This kind of drama makes me thankful for a few things: 1) that this is the only time I've heard or witnessed anything like this in my four years of living at this complex 2) that several of our neighbors called the police and were actively trying to help and 3) that I invested in some cheap Wal-Mart curtains years ago to help block out the patches of window blinds that are broken.

Can't Pinpoint the Crazy

For those of you out there that are football fans, you already know that today is a big day. It's the first day of Wildcard weekend for NFL play offs. Kick off for the early game is a mere 4 hours away and my Colts play in the late game. Last night as I was laying in bed, I could already feel the nerves. My stomach ached at midnight and I thought: What the hell is wrong with me?

I can't pinpoint the exact moment that I fell in love with sports. It could've been one of thousands of high school and college basketball games that I went to in Indiana when I was younger. Although I usually spent my younger years figuring out how to get money out of my parents for cokes and bubble gum.

It might have been a special trip that I took with my dad to Nashville, TN for a big junior college basketball tournament. I ended up with a new Cabbage Patch Kid, an appreciation for John Mellencamp, Meatloaf and Rod Stewars, and hours of bonding with my dad. He'd sit down with me at the beginning of every game and ask me if the teams were playing man to man or zone defense. We went to so many games and were such a fixture in our little basketball community that I was the flower girl in a junior college coach's wedding.

Basketball is easy to understand. We lived in Indiana--home of the Hoosiers, basketball goals in every driveway and literally a state where more citizens per capita average hoops playing time than any other place in the world. Getting into football was a different scenario altogether.

My dad and brother made the weekly three hour trek to Indianapolis to watch the abismal Colts lose to whoever came in that week. It was a special treat if I got to go along and I always loved being in the Hoosier Dome (before RCA soiled it). It wasn't until high school that I cared at all about football. I watched Notre Dame because it was in state and the only games consistently on television. I wasn't a Notre Dame fan though I learned the game by watching them play.

I don't know when I started getting nervous for games and caring so much that I'd schedule my real life around my sports life. My family still loves sports. I credit my dad for a lot of it, but my mom was also known to watch college basketball games on Saturday afternoons as she napped. We all have the bug. While I can't pinpoint exactly when I went crazy for sports, I can point my fingers at who helped make it happen.

And I wouldn't want it any other way.

The Theme of My Time Off

I am lucky enough to work for an organization that allows us to take some strategic time off during the holidays and end up with two weeks off. To say that I needed the time off is an understatement as I haven't had any real time off in quite some time. Too long as my mental health was starting to deteriorate because of it.

Nonetheless, I've enjoyed lounging around, making a few day trips but ending up back in my bed, playing with the kitties and the like. However, if there was one complaint that I can make, it's that my time off has taken on a certain theme. That theme being: bodily fluids.

It started with sweat as I was working out and utilizing our Wii fit. Sweat I can handle. Sweat is good. But when it escalated to vomit, I was beginning to get upset. I was sick for four days. I'd try to eat and end up feeling like I was going to die. Not a great way to end up.

The next fluid was the sort that might be too unsavory to go in detail in on the blog, but let's just say it also required a lot of bathroom trips.

Within a few days it wasn't just me, but everyone was getting into the action. One of our cats, Mila, is having a hard time adjusting to the new living situation. Chef and I believe that she was the "top dog" so to speak in her last home and is having a hard time dealing with Genghis. So she's decided to forgo using her litter box and instead use the area right outside of Genghis's litter box or Chef's backpack (Genghis's favorite napping space). Every morning we wake to a new little surprise. It's like having a puppy.

So for all the time off and lounging, I've also been cleaning up, clearing out and basically dealing with a lot of crap--literally and figuratively. If I wanted to clean up this much, I would've have kids and not cats. But I digress.

Here's to hoping for a less liquid new year.

2008 really was great

I loathe looking backward. I know there's learning to be done, but honestly, rehashing what I should've done in one situation that I can't change instead of applying what I learned to a situation that I can change just doesn't interest me. I learned that a long time ago as I used to stress so much about the decisions that I make.

Back in high school, I was so stressed trying to choose the right classes that I thought would dictate the perfect future, that I lost hair over it. Literally. Big bald patch right where my spine met my skull. Cost her $300 each session for four sessions and me the pain of having tiny cortisone injections in my head for the hair to grow back. After that, when I'd stress about having to plan a National Honor Society Charity Basketball game or taking a Calculus test, my mom would sit me on the couch, put her arms around me and say "There are very few decisions we make in life that can't be undone. Go with your gut and we can handle what happens from there." I would take a deep breath and as I visibly relaxed in her arms, she'd whisper "Besides, I can't afford for you to lose any more hair." Then we'd laugh.

So, while I can't change all my decisions, I've tried to worry less about them and just make them as they come. 2008 brought plenty of decisions for me to make and as I look back, I've been happy with them all.

Here are some things that I'm especially thankful for in 2008:

• I continued a healthy lifestyle (as I get ready to chow down on a wonderful filet that Chef is preparing as I type)
• lost more than 60 pounds and weigh less than I ever have as an adult
• continued to write and am close to finishing a rough draft for a novel
• gained great new friends and established stronger bonds with old ones
• worked hard to finally meet my potential at my job, which I adore
• opened my home and heart to three new pets and then thought "Why haven't I had pets for the last few years??? What was I waiting for??"
• survived and will continue to bear the burden of a weak IU basketball (and football, but does that really count?) team that will begin what I am sure is at least three years of taking on the Cubs mantra "There's always next year"
• that I actually like exercise and even more now that I've got a Wii fit
• I am finally turning 30, so that when people try to dismiss me as "too young" I can look at them and say "I'm not as young as I look. I'm in my 30s."
• However, I am forever thankful for my gene pool which, if my aging process holds to my mom and dad's, will have me looking younger than my age for decades to come

Thank you to everyone who was a integral part of my great 2008.

Cash or Credit?

This time of year I almost always start digging in my purse before I get out of the car. I hear the signature bell of a cold holiday worker saying hi as people try not to make eye contact. I almost always search for whatever change or cash I have to stuff some into the kettle. Call it Christmas Karma or the fact that I remember more than one Christmas where my mom made my brother and I pick out Christmas gifts for a less fortunate family. Whatever the reason, I always like to toss some change in the bucket.

However, in the last couple of years, I've begun to notice something. I don't carry cash and rarely do I have any change except for the odd penny that's been tossed in my ash tray because I can't find any other use for it. Anything that I need can be bought with my debit card.

Lately I've come to notice that I'm not unusual. Most people don't carry a lot, if any, cash. So, how does that affect donations? Apparently it made them go down enough that the Salvation Army is testing using credit card donations at some locations this year. They're also doing a texting donation pilot as well.

It's weird to think of how things we get used to have a trickle-down effect on other aspects we never think about.

What I would Rather Be Doing Today

I'm sitting here for the last 10 minutes of work with about 40 minutes of actual work to finish and instead of getting a crack at it or even caring, I've decided to blog and then leave the 40 minutes for me to do when I get back in January. That's right. January.

Today was a day when I labored through the "important" deadline driven items to make it to the holiday potluck (I made the aforementioned Parmesan Herb Bread). Then I came back in, got on a conference call, did work, met with a volunteer for an hour and tried to get the last three items on my TO DO list done before 5. I got the last two done and realized it was decision time. Be late getting home and finish up or write this blog. I think the decision is clear.

Here are things that I would've rather been doing than working today:

• sleeping in with Chef and the three cats--okay let's be honest, nearly anything involving Chef and the cats
• watching reruns of 90210 and The OC on Soapnet
• Shopping for Christmas presents as I only have one bought right now
• reading reading reading
• eating Parmesan Herb bread (which I'm doing now anyway)
• talking with my friends

Well, it's 5 p.m. now so I'm heading out. Wooo hooo for holidays!!

Damn you, Heath Ledger

Am I the only one that can't watch The Dark Knight too many times? I don't know why, but I was drawn to seeing it in the theater. Well, I do know why. Despite his odd mouth, I was drawn to Christian Bale as Batman. Skeptical of Chris Nolan and the new "darker vision" of Batman from Batman Begins, I was hooked.

Batman Begins was intriguing and new and actually had an interesting story. Let's face it. Batman does the best when Bruce Wayne is developed. Not when Batman is the focus. That's why Michael Keaton's first one was a hit and why the spandex-clad, nipple showing versions were crap.

Ready for another dose, I was a little hesitant and having a hard time believing Heath Ledger could pull off a Joker like Jack Nicholson. Boy was I wrong. His portrayal makes Nicholson's turn look like a bad imitation. We left the theater and Chef turned to me and said "Damn you, Heath Ledger!! Damn you for overdosing." It was the highest compliment he could give the guy at the time and I was in full agreement.

Since it came out on video, we've rented it from red box once (bless you $1 movie rentals!) and every morning on my walk, I have to resist the urge to pop in Harris Teeter and rent it again. I hope Chris Nolan can write another one. I hope that Christian Bale's voice doesn't give out from being so badly gravelly when he speaks as Batman. I hope that they can figure out a way for Aaron Eckhart to come back as Two Face. I hope that we can get a better Vicki Vale than Kim Basinger.

I hope for so many things. Mostly because they've met all my hopes so far. My next hope is that awards voters can get over themselves and their "serious" craft to recognize The Dark Knight and it's stellar combination of talent.

I Locked My Cat in The Closet

This morning has not started off as well as I'd hoped. I got up and went for a run, which was nice and quiet. The ice had a lot of local schools closed and the cold left the sidewalks empty. Although I promote health for a living, when it comes to a bunch a people clogging up my sidewalks, I become quite selfish.

So after this start, I went back in and got ready for work knowing that I had a little more time than normal to get ready as I had a doctors appointment that I was heading to instead of going straight to the office. Of course, I quite appropriately used this time to play with our new cats. Yes, that's cats, as in plural and in addition to our previous kitten. We were able to adopt additional pixie bobs to play with Genghis and add to our cat army. One of the cats (Attila) snuck into the closet as I was turned around and I shut the door without knowing. That's one thing about cats. They're stealthy. But nonetheless I'm carrying cat guilt.

Then I felt guilty because I feel asleep with the big TV on and watching ESPN. Love learning my sporting news while subconcious, but hate that the "ESPN Bottom Line" logo got burned onto the plasma TV. Chef says it's better now, but I was feeling guilty and sad about that.

I guess my life can't be too bad when I'm feeling bad because I have animals, electricity and technology in my life. Damn, sometimes I sound so ungrateful.

Okay, Illini, You make me nervous

Half of my family spent the majority of their formative years living in Illinois. The other half spent their formative years a few miles away in Indiana. What worries me isn't anything personal to any one person. Rather the aggregate.

How do you select your governors? Is it by blind luck? How can one state (aside from New York, perhaps) have such as consistent record of choosing corrupt politicians? Gov. Rod Blagojevich refuses to step down from his post as head of the state, despite strong allegations of trying to sell President Elect Obama's vacated senate seat.

How much balls does it take for a Governor to sell a Senate seat vacated--not by a death for a legislator or by someone disgraced out of office. By a PRESIDENT ELECT!! Did he think no one would notice? How much of an egomaniac do you have to be to think that you can get away with that? The answer: Blagojevich-ly egomaniacal.

For a state the is filled with relatively nice, normal, good valued people, they seem to band together towards the weirdest choices. Since 4 of the last 8 governors have been indicted, can we take away an electoral college vote or something? Can't we penalize a state or an aggregate for poor decisions? I know that coming up with a standard to judge this sort of thing would be hot button, but why now lay our trust in the three branches of government and say that indictment is enough to back up a claim. I'm just saying.

Stress-free Holiday

In years past, I've tried to force myself to feel the Christmas spirit. Wrapped presents, put out some sort of decorations, sent out cards, baked. All the usual things to make it feel like a holiday. Maybe it's the constant barrage of bad economic news, the suddenly cold and wet weather or just my scrooge-like nature that's coming out, but this year, I'm just not up for it.

I will take part in the usual fare: assorted Christmas parties (but I refuse to agonize over a Dirty Santa present to end up with angel print socks), the family gift exchange (although I am not going to agonize too much over gifts and end up spending more to make it look better), Christmas cards (e-cards this year are my saving grace), and the occasional baked good (Parmesan Herb bread for the annual work pot luck).

However, I've also resigned myself to breaking bad habits. This year, I will not:

• Be guilted into travelling 600 miles more than usual to see my cousin's great aunt's gall bladder surgery. I will be there for the important things, but I'm learning to draw the line this year.
• Let anyone else spoil the time I am spending with my family.
• Take things too seriously. Traditions are nice and there are some to hang on to for dear life, but not everything is a tradition. This year I'm giving myself permission to ditch the tradition.
• Run to 500 stores to pick something up because I'm afraid to give someone something from Target. I love Target and if that's where I find your gift, that's where I'm getting it.
• Judge my popularity, self-worth or love by how many Christmas cards I get.
• Treat Chef as a visitor to my family, but as he truly is: my family. We are both visitors up north.

Those are my Christmas season pledges. We'll see how many I actually keep. Hopefully all of them. Every time I start to feel scrooge-like I remember that kids get 60% more toys than they expect. So the world can't be doing too badly.

Best. Pet. Ever.

Apparently I'm getting to end up bragging about the best pet ever at least once a month from now on. If you read this blog, you're going to have to deal with it because Genghis rocks.

He is now a monster kitty, at least in all ways that are good. He's gained about 2 pounds a month since we got him, but I'm attributing that to Chef's diligence to the BARF diet. Not only has he gained weight, but his coat is so smooth and luxurious that I know Cruella de Ville would have made a coat out of him. And his poops no longer make Patrick's friend feel like they're "chewing on a turd" when he uses his litter box.

Chef even started on this without me knowing. I wasn't super excited about my pet eating raw food. Considering I can't even cut raw chicken because it makes me feel like I'm sawing through human flesh, it goes without saying that Chef has handled most of the food prep.

Anyway, our loving bundle of feline cuddles has taken to sitting on our chests and purring as we stroke him. It's precious. His demeanor and perfectness has us wondering if we can expand our household by two more kittens. Maybe not now, but I see more bundles of fur in our future.


Genghis when we first got him (Oct. 2008)













Genghis Now (Nov 2008)- see how big he's gotten? And he's gained about 2 lbs. since this!
















Genghis Now (dec 08) with the two extra pounds

Struggling with the Four Food Groups

I'm trying with or without success to get back on the bandwagon to healthy eating. I'm still working out and running/ walking twice a day, but I'm back sliding on what I eat. Today, was no exception.

I started out with oatmeal and ended up with pizza. Free pizza to be exact. Two words that I can't seem to resist. Free delicious pizza on a day when I had exactly three minutes to shove food down my gullet between meetings and deadlines.

As I was molesting the pepperoni off a slice, I thought back to when my mom used to argue with me about my diet. I had a junk food habit and despite being active in up to three sports a year, I was still overweight. As a grade schooler, I used to argue with her that pizza was a great way to get all four food groups in at the same time. The crust provided grains, the cheese dairy, the pepperoni provided meat and the sauce vegetables. And if you had mushrooms, pineapple or anything else that didn't have eyes at one time, then that was a bonus.

She didn't buy it then and I'm not really buying it now. But tomorrow is another day and there's little chance that free pizza will make its way into my life two days in a row.

Time to Play Find the Saltine Again!!

Last year I was very disappointed when NBC canceled Scrubs. And then even more disappointed when the writers strike rushed their swan song on the network. The end was a very crappy fable ending that was sucktacular. JD, Turk, Carla, Elliot, Dr. Cox and the gang deserved better.

So I was super-happy to hear that ABC picked up the show for mid-season!! In a mere month, Scrubs will premiere on my new favorite network. January 6th- mark your calendars. The first episodes have Courtney Cox playing the new chief of medicine. I'm so hyped.

Not only that, but last season left us wondering "will they or won't they" finally hook up with JD and Elliott. And seriously, can you ever say goodbye to the Bromance that is JD and Turk? I just want to buy a stuffed dog, paint a Transformers mural on the wall, get matching walkie talkie watches and ride in a scooter gang just in anticipation.

Zoom zoom zoom, bitches.

Another Patrick Swayze Christmas

Patrick Swayze isn't dying. He's got pancreatic cancer which has about a 91% death rate for cancers, but he isn't one of them. He is, however, pissed that the tabloids say he's dying.

Have you seen Patrick Swayze lately? Even before the cancer, he wasn't looking so hot. I'm glad that he's doing well, because so many people don't, but when was the last time you thought about Patrick Swayze without being prompted by a Dirty Dancing or Ghost showing on AMC?

We used to think about Patrick Swayze a lot. (We being my weird ass friends and me). In fact, we thought about him so much when I was in high school that a friend of mine decided to throw a "Patrick Swayze Christmas." The friend was a straight male and I think the party theme was dictated more by access to a lifesize Patrick Swayze cut out than anything else, but still, to this day, it was one of the best parties I've ever been to.

Aside from the obligatory copious amounts of alcohol, there was Patrick Swayze movies playing and a karaoke contest. The winner of the contest was supposed to get a satin jacket with a parrot singing into a microphone screen printed on the back. Second place was a jar of "Chicken Tonight!". However, the jacket ended up in my friend Amanda's car when no one was looking and since then, we haven't been able to track its whereabouts specifically.

Some of the events might have occurred at the Kenny Roger's You Got To Know When to Hold 'Em Saint Valentine's Day Dance, but either way, it was a good time.

So as you're wrapping up your $15 Dirty Santa gift for a holiday party, may I suggest that next year you just ask everyone to bring $15 worth of alcohol and their favorite Patrick Swayze movie. Black Dog, Road House, any one will do. Make it a Patrick Swayze Christmas.

She did it again. . .or did she?

I admit it. I watched the Britney Spears "documentary" last night. I spent the whole time alternating between feeling sorry for her, feeling like she's saying what she thinks she's supposed to say and being horrified at Madonna's bad face lift.

Honestly, I don't know how much we can trust a documentary that promises to "ask all the questions" you've been dying to know. You can't call it misleading because they didn't say she'd actually answer them. However, they cleverly never delved into her sister's unexpected pregnancy, the whole debacle with her mom and anything to do with the custody battle going on for her kids.

I felt sad watching her get shuttled from one photo shoot or video or appearance to another and then hearing her say that she has to always act happy because it's better than the alternative. (Which I guess is shaving your head and attacking a paparazzi car with an umbrella). I felt sad when she said that when she loves someone she wants to be around them all the time and feel good by being near them. Wow. That's co-dependency. Learn to love being around yourself first.

Mostly she talked about her upcoming album (which hits stores tomorrow-what a coincidence?) and how she felt like she was right back doing what she belonged to do. However, when the most touching testimonial in the documentary comes from her choreographer, that's not a good sign.

And lastly, the Madonna factor. No one even mentioned in the documentary that Justin performed at the Madonna concert that Britney was at. The world wants to know what she was thinking about him being there and if she was pissed about Madonna setting it up like that. We don't care if Madonna has maternal instincts toward Britney. It was nice of Madonna to say that and then for the filmmakers to cut to an awkward Madonna chatting about how she wanted to cancel the show, then cutting back to a very overly lit and pulled taut face of Madonna yammering about Britney finding herself. Really? Two husbands, three kids and adulterous scandal helped you find yourself Madonna?

I love Britney. I have to admit it even though I'm too old for it. I love to bob my head to her songs. I just hope that before she goes on TV again to explain her feelings that Britney has chance to understand them herself.