New Dress, Same Me

Yesterday I went off in search of a new dress. Not like a "Mother's Day Brunch" kind of dress. More like a formal dinner dress. Except this one was tricky. Because it couldn't look like a mother of the bride kind of thing, but I couldn't show more cleavage than appropriate for a business meeting.

That's because the dress is for the Rutherford Heart Ball, an event that I'm working at, but still have to look good for. It's a fine line. I knew starting the day that it was going to be a long haul. I also knew that I would not be able to find the right dress without trying on a lot of wrong ones. It's the law of numbers. In the end, I went to 11 stores. Tried on 38 dresses. Found one that I didn't have to take out a loan to buy.

I had a beautiful dress picked out pretty early on, but realized that it had two major flaws: 1) it was intended to be worn without a bra and 2) it was a long gown meant for someone taller than 5'2". It went back on the rack as a dire "in case of emergency and nothing else" back of the mind

The one thing that I noticed about every store was the abundance of fish scale dresses. Those dresses that at the bottom have fish scale looking overlapped fabric for the bottom half. I'm not a big fan. I could see how they could provide a forgiving lay in a tight dress for a less than perfect body, but you also have to look like you're wearing a fish scale dress.

The other thing I noticed was that there wasn't a whole lot of selection. I could find about 100+ different styles of jeans, but there weren't a whole lot of non-slutty looking dresses. I think part of the problem was that the dresses I saw were leftover prom or wedding season mother of the bride. Since my age range is between those two, there left a lot to be desired.

Finally, I found one that was black, short but not too short, pretty but not outrageous. I then realized that I would have to find a strapless bra to wear it. That caused a whole different kind of panic. So I let it go, and moved on. In a miraculous twist of fate, I ended up finding a strapless bra before I found another dress. Above is what I'll be sporting for the event.

So, if anyone out there has a very bling-worthy diamond/diamonique/rhinestone/crystal necklace or size 7 1/2 or 8 strappy sandals in silver that they'd let me borrow, let me know. The Ball is Saturday.

Why Can't I Do Everything At Once

On my run this morning, I was pondering the big spheres in my life and started wondering why I can't get my shit together to do everything at once. I can write daily and work out. I can eat right and work out. I can work like hell, but not spend enough time with friends. I can spend time with friends but not accomplish everything that needs to be done. I can have a clean house or cook, but not both. I can catch up on TV or read.

I don't like that I can't do everything. Damn you, eternal limitations.

And I'm Not Sure Wedding Planning Is Up My Alley Either

Next weekend is the Rutherford Heart Ball. Since the position that I manage is open, I've been in charge of the event. One thing I know for sure is that I do not have the care for detail that it takes to make these things pretty. Organized I can do. I can make sure logistically stuff runs like there is no tomorrow. But when it comes to picking centerpieces or creating an ambiance, I'm no good.

Thankfully, I have someone wonderful who is handling that for me. She makes the experience one that's super for the guests while coming in on budget. I wonder if she would do weddings. Not that my wonderful stepmother hasn't offered her skills, as she is also got that special gift.

But now that we're this close, I am ready for it to be the day after the event and bask in the glow of a job well done. And cross my fingers that the money comes in. I'm trying to let go of anything I can't control and there's not a lot that I can control right now. Just crossing my fingers and hoping the room is giving.

Speaking of giving, if anyone out there wants to give me some time next Saturday the 22nd and help out at the event, I would be GREATLY appreciative. We could still use some people to help us execute the plan for the night of the event. You get to dress up and have me owe you one!

Women make 80 cents to the dollar, what's up with that?

I realize that women's rights and the underrepresentation of women in high levels corporate America is not a new obstacle, but I was reading a new article on it, so it came to mind. Apparently women are up to 80 cents on the dollar for the same work. What's scary is that while women are about half the work force, they make up only 3 percent of the CEOs at the top 500 companies.

Even looking at where I work which is about 90 percent (or more) female, the majority of men who work here hold management positions. It makes me wonder what it will take --or rather how long--before leadership at all organizations are more reflective of society. It's also weird that one of the areas that I am in is one that has basically equal representation and earning potential (Advertising and Promotional Managers). I always wonder what industries or areas are dominated by females and why. Non-profit tends to be predominantly female and I think it's our incessant need to feel like what we're doing has meaning to it.

Either way, it's a continuous struggle and not one that's likely to be solved during my career--although I'll keep wishing it would.

It was More than a Hotel and some Guitars

It was a little bizarre and only slightly baffling that Nashville's flooding hasn't gotten a lot of media attention from the national media. The Opryland Hotel has gotten some good coverage, as well as it should because it's a huge hub for tourism. The other thing I've seen in numerous places, including abc.com, is the loss of Keith Urban's guitars. I realize he's a lyrical poet and musical genius and married to Nicole Kidman, but I think the loss of human and animal lives, as well as one of the costliest natural disasters in US history might trump the loss of a few Gibsons.

It's being dubbed as a "1000 year flood" some places and "500 year flood" in others and both would probably be an accurate description. There are some places of massive destruction--including the area of my first apartment complex in town--but there's also a lot of goodwill, as well. Without the nation watching our every move or a lot of support, the governor and mayor and countless other government and emergency workers have worked countless hours to keep things in order. Our infrastructure mostly kicked in to place and is getting help to the areas that need it.

Aside from that, it's heartwarming to watch the community band together to help out. About three days after the images from the disaster were getting out, people already got together to have a radiothon and telethon. More than $2 million raised in about 24 hours from the citizens of the area. Helping hands going to neighborhoods and helping clean out ravaged homes.

Everywhere I go people know how lucky they got. Chef and I were no exception. We found out today that we were one of two apartments in our building with no real damage. Two of 16. People are moving from one apartment with a collapsed roof to another in the complex.

Feelings of goodwill and immediate rebuilding abound. It's nice to see but we also know that it's a long road ahead and we'll keep going. Even if no one outside the area is watching. . .

Downtown Nashville underwater

LP Field--The Cheap Seats are Still Dry

Inside the Opryland Hotel

Two Blocks From Our Apartment--I learned that it only takes a foot of water to float a car.

Quick Trip to Kentucky

One of the great things about living less than 3 hours away from my hometown is that people have to call before dropping by. One of the great things about living less than 3 hours away from my hometown is that when there's an emergency I can shoot back up there. Yesterday was one of those cases. My dad called on Monday and my grandma was super sick (that's a medical term). After being in the hospital for a few days, she was getting worse and not better.

So a quick trip up and I got to see how she's doing for myself. Luckily, the meds were kicking in and she was on the upswing for the first time since her admission. It makes it so much easier to have the luxury while I can to hop in the car and be with family. I should do it more often. Thanks to my aunts and dad for keeping me in the loop and for dinner!

More thoughts and prayers would be great to continue. If all goes smoothly, tomorrow is pacemaker day for Grandma Auda!

24 Hours of Coverage

I feel a little sorry for some of the news reporters around here. It's been all hands on deck for the flood coverage for the last 24-48 hours. No regular programming. Just floods, shelters, government addresses, rescues and then repeat. It's weird because some of the sports reporters are covering this too. Some are not so experienced with the regular reporting and having a hard time with some of the sadder stories (I'm not talking about you, Joe--I know where you started, buddy! You're rocking those McGavock reports).

It's pretty surreal. Some of the places that were covered in water yesterday are dry today, but all the concrete is smashed up and debris floating everywhere. Other places are dry as they ever were and untouched. While I am still very lucky because we only had a minor leak, I now realize just how lucky because a few of the apartments upstairs from us had the roof cave in from the weight of the water. Some of the residents have already rented U-hauls to get their valuables out while the crews work on it. Others are just pitching their furniture in the dumpster. The Opryland Hotel has its first floor underwater up to about 6 feet and isn't estimated to reopen for MONTHS. It's crazy to think of what mother nature is capable of.

The other thing crazy is just how far people will go to save their belongings. While showing live coverage of an almost entirely submerged house that had caught fire, one of the local stations had a viewer on the phone. Turns out the viewer lived in a house just a block down the street and while his entire basement was under water AND his wife and granddaughter had lost their car while evacuating, he was still not leaving. His biggest concern? Running out of dog food. I love my animals, but I'd evacuate in a heartbeat. They'd just be coming with me!

Tomorrow, I'm heading to Indiana, where I know it's drier. My grandma, affectionally known as Naughty Auda, is in the ICU and it's time I visited her. It's the beauty of living close enough to be able to get there when I need to be. Prayers and good wishes for my grandma!!

I'm On A Boat

If you haven't been in Nashville lately, I'd avoid it unless you're a fan of being stranded or water sports. We knew it was going to rain all weekend, but I for one wasn't expecting the Arc-building floods that we've been hit with. Nearly 12 inches of rain in 48 hours--that's about 25% of our annual rain fall.

Needless to say, our sewers and bridges weren't really prepared for this. There was a mobile home floating down the Interstate yesterday. Luckily, despite living on a first floor apartment, Chef and I have been spared for the majority of the calamity. Our first floor apartment was actually built about 6 feet off the ground--thank you, engineers! We've had a drip from above that's evidence of a leak, but it's small and of all places, dripping into the sink. We're not part of the 21,000 without power in the county or without suitable drinking water. I went to the grocery store Saturday morning before it really hit. The only complaint we really have is the lack of good TV on to pass the time.

Either way there were a dozen or so boats deployed today by the metro emergency management agency to help rescue others who saw the standing or rushing waters and thought "That doesn't look so bad" only to realize that it was that bad. Which made me think that this is the only time that people don't really want to be on a boat. Right, T-Pain?

A Bunch of People Here Who Love You Like Crazy. . .

Sometimes I think Chef and I are the only two people who still watch South Park. Then of course, there was the whole editing of last week's show and threat on the lives of Matt Stone and Trey Parker. So I know at least some Muslim extremists have heard of the show.

I have to say the rest of the world not watching is missing out. This season has been pretty damn hilarious. And this week was one of my favorites because it combined my love of Jeff Van Vonderen and Intervention with the hilarity of South Park and my favorite characters of Butters and Kyle.

And that clip doesn't even take into account some of the funniest parts of the episode. The only part I would critique South Park on is that the "Jeff Van Vonderen" character doesn't specifically say that "there's a bunch of people here who love you like crazy." Every true Intervention fan knows that line is a prompt in the at-home drinking game version.

I'm not buying Jessica Simpson without Make-Up. Do you?

I like the idea behind Marie Claire's magazine focus this month--a celebrity on the cover supposedly without any make-up, retouching or hair styling. However, I'm not buying it completely. I realize that celebrities are mostly better than average looking people. But here's the thing. I've never had a day with skin that even on it's own. And I don't think I'm alone. I realize she's been a spokesperson for Pro-Activ and therefor can moisturize her situation nicely, but her skin's just a little too even.

What do you think? How much work was done on this picture?

Day Three - A Test and Triumph

Is it weird or self-fulfilling prophecy that I'm writing more in my blog about writing more in my life? Either way, I'm doing both. And today was the biggest test of the three days. I had to get up before the sun to get the writing and the running in. But I did it. And I still outlasted Chef, who is asleep on the couch as I type.

Of course, he has to be asleep on the couch to allow me to watch "Glee". He thinks it's funny, but hates the singing, which is kind of the whole thing. I mean it is based on a singing group of teens. But who doesn't love Jane Lynch? I also love the dimwitted blonge cheerleader. She has great one-liners. This week's fave "I think my cat is reading my diary."

My cat doesn't read my diary because it's online and Genghis's lack of opposable thumbs make navigating the web difficult. Turning pages aren't even an option. Oh. And he's a feline.

Day One-6:05 a.m.

I got up 30 minutes earlier today and got some things started. Yesterday I put my novel all into one document. Sounds simple, but it's not so simple. It made me see all the holes I have in it and how much more there is to do. Which is nice because it's only about 160 pages right now and has some serious progress to make before it can be considered a first draft.

I got about a page written and while it was a nice start, it's not nearly the progress that I need to make. However, the one side effect I didn't quite bank on was thinking about the portion I was working on throughout the day and wanting to open it back up tonight to work on. I think it's just the rhythm of routine. Or the promise of it. Once I stop working regularly on writing, it becomes this insurmountable thing that I'm not doing. Not doing it is more guilt-inducing and makes me feel worse than plopping down crap. Because at least crap is something and can be like a mind-enema.

Hopefully I feel as productive at the end of day 30.

Bad TV on a Sunday Night

Seriously. Without football, there's not a lot on Sunday night TV. I'm relegated to old Reese Witherspoon movies and the Style Network. If I could get Chef to sit through Jerseylicious without bitching about it, I'd be watching those tacky ass Jersey girls tonight. Instead, I'll wait until he's asleep like I usually do.

Can anyone tell me what's up with Jersey lately? I mean, when did tanning until you're an oompa loompa and wearing loads of accessories become the new it thing? When will there be some Hoosier love for the moderately dressed, sensible decision-making girls who work hard and try to accomplish things of substance? Oh, right. Never. I guess that doesn't make good TV. One thing I will give the girls of Jersey is that they squeeze their chunky asses into lycra without a second thought. They think they're sexy even if they are squeezing their size 12 ta tas into a size 8 dress. It's actually nice to see some ladies with boobs and curves on TV. If only they would keep their mouths closed.

Things I Decided Today

I'm over being sick! Hopefully I didn't say that prematurely, but today I'm doing well and sounding like a girl again. And the last couple of days of being overwhelmed, overloaded and overexagerated had me thinking. I need to remember why I love life on a daily basis. And not the typical reasons, like that I bought something or that I get to see Chef. While those are both lovely things, they depend on other people to happen. And when it comes down to it, there are only so many things that we can actually control in a day, right?

I mean, I can't control anything other than my own actions and reactions. So I've decided to try a little experiment. I get up early every week day to jog. It's my time. Now I'm going to get up 30 minutes earlier to make sure I do something else I love each day. Whether it's working on the novel that never seems to progress more than a few pages a month or writing a blog that can be ignored for months on end or reading some fiction for fun, I will do something for myself that I enjoy. And it's going to be active--not watching TV, because I do that enough.

And it has to be the morning. Once the day gets geared up and I'm in work mode, it's too easy for me to beg off things I love doing for myself because I'm tired, busy, don't want to be in front of a computer or I need to spend time with Chef.

So here it is: 30 days to start. 30 minutes earlier. I'll let you know how it goes.

I'm Sick. This Sucks.

Yesterday I started feeling like poo. Not horrible, but sore throat, weird stomach, no taste for anything and a low grade fever. I powered through because I'm loaded up at work and had commitments for volunteers to fulfill. If they had been for my own purposes or even for co-workers, I probably would've begged off. But there's a different sense of obligation when you're doing something for someone who's donating their time.

Woke up today feeling worse than yesterday. Still no appetite (which is an instant sign I'm sick because I'm hungry pretty much no matter what), chills, fever, weird stomach and fever. Again, powered through for work because I already had tomorrow scheduled off for a mental health day. However, about halfway through the day I started with an annoying throat tickle that lead to coughing. And there's the mental fatigue that has me crying at every little thing that seems to go wrong.

So I'm bowing out of boot camp, staying parallel to the floor at home instead of at writers group and planning on spending all of tomorrow sleeping or doing some lounging variation. I am probably the worst sick person in the world. I'm whiny. I'm emotional. I'm horrible company.

The one bright thing is that Chef is the master at pampering me--especially when sick. He cooks whatever I want. Offers to make trips to get orange juice and soup. He's fabulous. Even when I'm not.

So now I'm signing off from the couch! Wish me luck getting better.

I'm A Virtual Slacker. . .but not so much in real life

It's sad that Chef looked at me last night as he checked my blog (which he frequently does) and said "You haven't blogged this MONTH."And sadly, he's right. Not because I don't have anything to say. But mostly just not the energy to say it.

Then I looked at my facebook profile and realized that I've not been super active on there either. That's pretty bad considering I can update status and all that using my phone. I just haven't.

However, it's been a nice month. On Sunday, Chef and I went to see Daniel Tosh. In case you don't watch Comedy Central, he's got a genius show called Tosh.0. It's brilliant, he's funny and the stand up was a good time. The only thing that would've made the show better. . .okay two things: 1) not having to cram onto a bar stool because the place was sold out and 2) not having to hold my pee for the last 30 minutes of his set while laughing my butt off. It's hard enough to hold my pee under regular circumstances, but that was just too much.

Other than jamming three seasons of The Tudors into the last 6 days, I've been working. As usual. This time of year is crazy and we all bust ass until the end of our fiscal year on June 30th. Between pushing to that, my entertainment for the night just unveiled itself in the form of the glass of red wine Chef handed me and the new litter boxes with doors we just put out. You know your cats are large if you get the "extra giant" sized boxes. It'll be interesting to see who will be the first to break in the litter boxes. I guess interesting is actually a relative term. . .

Sometimes Politics Make Me Sad

Today for work I went to the Tennessee Legislature. The American Heart Association is a part of the Tennessee Obesity Task Force (we're against obesity, for the record). Today was the task force's day on the Hill.

Seeing politics in action fascinates and saddens me. I'd never lobbied for anything before I worked for the AHA and I kind of wish I had seen the process in action in my home state of Indiana just to see the differences. Nonetheless, it makes me both more cognizant of who I'm electing and frustrated with politicians. Not the process so much, but the people in it.

Just like politics and religion are taboo to talk about in mixed company, I feel both are the same in another aspect. Democracy and religion are both perfect ideas. When you factor in the human element, they become a little more muddled--but also more beautiful in their imperfections.

Let me explain--at least on the democracy front. Today I watched our state's commissioner of health give a very eloquent synopsis of the state of obesity, how Tennessee fares on the front (poorly, by the way), and the bills going before the House that might impact Tennessee's obese adults and kids. She testified directly in front of a representative with a liter bottle of Mountain Dew. It was kind of humorous.

The other thing that bothered me was the the lawmakers didn't know the laws they had passed. I realize that A LOT of laws are debated and even passed in the House or the Senate, but I really expected that those that were signed in to law would at least be remembered. Clearly that wasn't the case as one representative was lamenting the fact that there was no required Physical Education in schools. A few years ago the issue was voted on and it was made that90 minutes per week of physical activity was required--not PE. PE is guided by trained teachers. Physical activity is not. Some schools were counting passing periods for their students to get to the 90 minutes. I think I was more upset because requiring PE is up for vote this year.

But all of this makes me realize that I can't hear this stuff without wanting to debate it. I have a hard time being able to play the game of politics. Which is why I am better left to voicing my opinion--either with my vote or my persuasive abilities. And why I encourage everyone else to too.

I've got a case of the slightly foaming at the mouth

In a typical year, I would be suffering on this Monday morning with a basketball hangover. I would have bleary eyes, too much pizza and the need to clap my hands together and say "Let's get fired up!" repeatedly throughout the day.

You see normally I would be suffering from a case of March Madness. However, this year's Madness has not hit me so deeply. I can't say that I'm not affected at all. I did sit in a parking lot between meetings and listen to Murray State hit the game-winning shot against Vanderbilt. And I do have a tendency to flip over from my regularly scheduled program at commercials to check scores incessantly.

And I know how I'm doing in my bracket (poorly, by the way). I do root for the underdog unless they're playing a Big 10 team and the my loyaltly lies with my conference. However, the tournament takes on a slightly less thrilling endeavor when you're team's out of it. Being a Hoosier fan, it's not many years of my life that my alma mater has failed to make the tournament. At one time, they had the second longest tourney streak (behind Arizona then. Now not so much for either team).

So for me, March Madness is kind of March Sadness. However, it's not nearly the sadness that hit me after the Superbowl. I still can't even talk about that one.

Soon NBC Will be Show Crazy Guys

I thought I was alone until my friend Julie commented on it too. What the hell is up with the programmers at TLC? With Jon & Kate Plus 8 off the air, have they tapped out their creativity? Not enough ridiculously large families to follow with TV cameras?

In case you haven't seen them, TLC is launching two new shows: Addicted and Hoarding. Aka a crappy rip off of A&E's wildly successful Intervention and Hoarders. Watching the promos makes me think back to the movie Coming to America. The part where Cleo McDowell (played by John Amos) explains the difference between his restaurant McDowell's and McDonald's ("They use a sesame seed bun. We use a poppy seed bun. See?"). TLC is using poppy seed buns.

I mean, unless Jeff Van Vondern is telling me my family loves me like crazy, it's just not worth it. Besides, I know that Chef loves me enough to know that if it's the off-brand Interventionists coming to talk to me, I'd totally scoff and demand Ken Seeley show up before getting help.

And if I'm expected to clean up my house, then it better be a clinical specialist in hoarding that helps me and not some generic specialist that wanted some attention on TLC.

Am I alone here? I'd be ripping on NBC if they suddenly green lit a show about Chicago Ad Agency workers in the 60s and called it "Crazy Guys" or "Ad Dudes". It's just so uncreative. I mean, it's not like there aren't other topics to do on reality shows. I think non-profits and the crazy things people say to people who work there could fill at least a couple seasons just for Nashville. For example, the American Heart Association (where I work) has to have a line on our answering service that says "If you're experiencing the warning signs of a heart attack, please hang up and dial 911." Our front desk has also had to walk someone over the one block to emergency room because they were having chest pains. That's one episode right there!

I'm just saying. . .

I Don't Mind Driving Any More

I had to head up to Rivergate this weekend to run an errand. Normally this type of trip (about 20 minutes away) would've taken a prayer and enough shaking to have my ovaries turned upside down. Now it's not so bad. In fact, with a radio, cruise control and smooth rides, I actually liked it. I am looking forward to warmer weather and rolling the windows down with music blaring as I roll.

I even got Chef to take a ride with me to Walgreen's. It's actually a good thing, because for the next couple of weeks to come, I'll be riding back and forth to Murfreesboro (aka The Boro). I'm covering the area until I get the position filled that covers the area. It's those things that I forgot about when I was longing for management experience. But in the end, I just think of how grateful I'll be when the position is filled again. And I think about how much better I understand things now. Not the strategy, but actual execution.

So, riding around in my new car has lost none of its appeal. I hope I still think so after 47 more payments.

Perhaps This Will be the Official End of J. Lo

Following in the illustrious foot steps of Britney Spears, Jennifer Lopez is guest starring on How I Met Your Mother this week as a love interest for Neil Patrick Harris. There are so many things that confuse me about that sentence that I don't even know where to start. . . but I'll try.

Surely appearing as a guest star on a CBS sitcom (and I'm using the "com" pretty liberally here) will be enough to finish off a dying career of a star who should've remained in 1999, right? I mean, aside from whoring out her children when they're older and recording a duet with an even older and more aging pop star, this is the last call on J. Lo, right?? Can't we just all agree to that?

And then please explain to me how Neil Patrick Harris is a sex symbol and a chick magnet on that show. I realize it's not based in reality, but even before he came out of the closet, I don't even think the chick who played Wanda on Doogie Howser ever felt the attraction to him.

I don't get CBS at all. Then again, I'm not into procedural detective shows that are only like a decade old. It's got to be 20 years old and feature S. Epatha Merkerson for me to take notice.

So I'll guess I'll just watch more Tosh.0 (did I mention how excited I am to see Daniel Tosh and his casual jackets in person in April??) and hold my breath that Maid in Manhattan 2: Cleaning the Mean Streets doesn't get greenlit.

This is What It's Like to Have a Life

This week has been hectic. Every week is hectic. And I've had about the same amount of work to do. And I still feel like I could work 24 hours a day and still not get caught up.

But this week I had a life. I didn't spend every night at the office until 7 or crank up the computer at home at night . . .at least not every night. Instead, I did a lot of things with Chef, and for the most part it was time better invested.

On Wednesday, he and I went to a Scotch tasting. The thing I learned most is that I'm not a big fan of scotch. It was pretty good Scotch, according to other people there, but mostly it was nice to get out in public with Chef on a weeknight and have fun. We were with others, but also mostly a couple because the majority of people there were several decades older than we are. We both left knowing that we'll be going to more tastings in the future (hopefully in the wine and bourbon arenas).

Then last night not only did I go to boot camp and writers group, but when I got home because I didn't have to work on Friday, I got to hang out with Chef until well after midnight, catching up on the Must See TV comedies that I'd missed while at writers group, having some beer and being together.

Today, I continued the self-pampering by sleeping in WAY longer than I normally would, getting a manicure, going to lunch and seeing the BODIES exhibit with Chef. It has been nice to have some time to feel normal. It makes me want more. So I know that I have to carve out more time for myself in the future (more manicures are now a given) and push back on things that can eat up my time for now real reason.

I've got to get a backbone and know that I'm not being selfish, but acting in self-preservation.

It Does Not Rock, It Sucks, It Sucks

Wow. I know that Charles Barkley was a man whore, but the Taco Bell commercial has really crossed the line. I mean, he's almost in the sphere of Gene Simmons with that one. It must take a good agent or a big ass ego to think that he could rap effectively enough to sell some tacos.

He used to be known as the "Round Mound of Rebound" and now he's just a round mound. Sir Charles, what the hell were you thinking? I would be remiss if I didn't mention Lamar Odom. I'm sure this was exactly the kind of endorsement deals he was hoping for when he married the big

Kardashian (aka Khloe). This probably paid for the marriage so anything else he gets will be BONUS money.

I don't understand all the promotions between athletes and fast food. The NBA and Taco Bell, McDonald's and the Olympics. How many athletes really down a bunch of fast food on a regular basis? Will sweet chili dipping sauce give the edge to win a bronze medal? Will cinnamon twists and tacos improve my vertical?

Look I understand that some athletes eat fast food. I've been around enough NFL guys and had to direct them to NOT mention that when talking to kids about nutrition and physical activity. However, the idea that a burger is going to give me the competitive edge is what led to me being 80 pounds heavier.

Okay, maybe it was the french fries and years of self-delusion.

A New Addition to My Life and Budget

It was bound to happen. In fact, last week Chef told me to bite the bullet and go car shopping. I didn't listen to him, which he has pointed out, and therefore was left in a minor panic attack that had to be witnessed by upper management at the AHA.

It started on Thursday morning when I went to pick up a friend who was, oddly enough, having car trouble of her own. My car had been having some noticeable transmission issues (namely getting out of first gear), but this morning was different. This morning I couldn't get it up the hill near my house. By some miracle, it got us to work. I knew that I would use my Friday off to shop for a new car. The decision was made.

I didn't have to drive it during the day, but when I hopped in to leave I could back out fine, but couldn't go forward. The Cam literally not move another inch forward without the aid of my friends and a visiting manager from work. All the while I was crying hysterically trying to figure out how to get home and to a dealership. Nothing spells desperation like pulling up in a cab.

After about 5 minutes of crying and the logic of my friends and co-workers, I got a ride to the car rental place (a mere two blocks from work) and rented the cheapest thing they had. It was a Chevy Cobalt. I got in and felt the luxury. That's when I started realizing how many things had gone wrong with the Cam.

Chef and I spent most of Thursday night researching cars, our budget, and trying to see where we wanted to go to find my new vehicle. Then after a night of ambien-induced sleep, I got up, got nervous and went to Church's chicken. Nothing says big purchase like stress eating. So I had a chicken biscuit. It was delicious.

We headed to Petsmart to get cat food and then to Carmax. I had narrowed it down to three moderately priced models the night before. It was going to be a Toyota (I mean, it did last me 15 years despite the recalls), a Honda or a Nissan. After three test drives and some serious debate, I had made my decision. I was the proud new owner of a 2009 Nissan Sentra.

I got a reliable, used car that only had 13,000 miles and one previous owner. It looked and smelled brand new without the new car price tag. It is perfect. At least in my eyes. After riding around in a 1995 Camry for the last 10 years, there are some things that are normal for a car today that are a luxury for me. Here are some examples:

• A radio-The cam lost it's radio two years ago by blowing a fuse. The junction box was located directly behind the dash and would've required too much labor to make it worth the effort.
• Getting out of the passenger seat-the inner door handle didn't work to get out. You either had to wait for me to be chivalrous or roll the window down and let yourself out.
• Getting into the driver side- The lock had been stripped because of a bad key copy.
• Oil and automatic transmission fluid use-despite no discernible oil leak the car needed oil and ATF to be added to it every other day.
• Transmission- for the last month or more, the cam needed to be really warmed up to be able to shift between gears
• the loudness- Chef was embarrassed to start my car in the morning because of how much noise it made so early in the morning
• no back lighting on the odometer, speedometer-the fuse that took out the radio eventually took out that too. I had a taplight that I used to see my speed and gas after dark.
• shocks, suspension--my car shook between the speeds of 60-70 mph on the highways and interstate

Seriously, it is a pure joy to know that the car that I'm heading out to in the morning will start, will run with no problems and that I can plug a phone charger into. Plus it's pretty and didn't break the bank. I hope I'm just as happy once I start making payments on it.

The buying experience wasn't nearly as fearful as I thought. Carmax was great, the salesguy wasn't pushy and I got my car relatively easily. They financed quickly, but what I appreciated was that my salesman recommended a person to give me a better rate somewhere else. I went to his suggestion and got a 3 percent break on the interest. It's enough of a deal to make me go back to Carmax again.

Now I need your help naming him.

The Good, The Bad and The Olympics

Is anyone else simultaneously excited and dreading the end of the Olympics? I mean I'm not the biggest Winter Olympics fan, but at the very least if nothing else is on I can put it on and be entertained.

There are some questions that come to mind. First of all, when did Korea and China get so good at ice skating? I mean whether it's figure skating or speed skating, they seem to take it very seriously and be good. Am I the only one in the dark about this?

Does anyone else feel like it's cheating for the US to have snowboarding in the Olympics? When I think that, I then think about the fact that softball was taken out because the U.S. was too dominant and I get pissed.

Why is it that I can live without curling for four years but toss it on MSNBC at 3 p.m. on a Saturday and I'm all in? Suddenly I become an expert on technique and strategy because I watched it for 30 minutes, which is about 25 longer than the average person.

How come hockey isn't the biggest sport in the Winter Olympics? Was anyone else surprised that the US-Canada game was relegated to crappy cable?

It Started Off Bad and Got Progressively Better

There was a time not so long ago that I would've woken up and gone outside to a flat tire and it would be over. My day would be predetermined to be crappy and my mind would be made up. Thankfully, I have Chef. And with him I know that even if my tire is flat and I end up being 10 minutes late for a pre-meeting, I have him to count on.

He came outside when I ran back to the apartment and knocked on the door with a loud "HELP ME!" whine attached. He stepped right in, told me not to help too much, not because I couldn't or wouldn't but because he didn't want me to get dirty. In 10-15 minutes, I was back on the road, as good as it was before.

It's been more than five years that we've been together, but it's mornings like these that make me more appreciative of him than ever before. I hope that 5 years from now (and WAY past that) that I always remember to be thankful for the little things he adds to my life, as well as the big things.

Because he turned that flat tire into a good reflection instead of a crappy day.

My I Don't Have To Run Day

When I was a kid, I dreaded Sundays. There was never anything on TV (It was before I became a football fan) and it was the day that we didn't really do anything. Now Sundays are my favorite day of the week. And this one particularly.

Since I had yesterday free, I was able to do my errands then AND had a fabulous night with my stepdad Jack, his fiance Sara and Chef. Jack and Sara came into town for my birthday, and we went to Ruth's Chris. It was my first time there and will not be my last. The steak was awesome and covered in butter. Which makes me think back to Julie & Julia and the revelation that butter makes everything better. (Except for your arteries, but that's a different scenario all together). Everything was delicious, down to Jack's Banana Cream Tart. Yummy.

Then we went to the Patterson House, which has become a frequent haunt of mine lately. Chef and I went there on Tuesday night for our late Valentine's celebration. It was just as good this time, as well. Plus Jack had said that he's never been to a place like it. When you can introduce him to something new, you've found a good spot.

But I digress. After a lovely evening, I was happy to climb into bed. Where I've been spending and plan on spending the majority of the day. No errands. Only have to put finishing touches on something for work. I only ventured out of the bedroom this early because Chef told me that I needed to watch The Time Traveler's Wife so he could delete it. The joke's on him, though, because it's not where it's supposed to be and I can't watch it. I did, however, manage to watch 6 episodes of My Life as Liz. I have to say that the promos made me uneasy and the fact that it was on MTV made me even more uneasy, but it's a pretty good show. Enough to spend two hours watching, I guess.

So now, it's back to bed and maybe later I'll make some taquitos. That's pretty much taxing the limits of my ambition for the day.

It Only Took Me Three Times To Get Through the Door

It snowed again. Damn you, mother nature. You can be such a bitch. I realize you're nicer here than in the Northeast, but still . . .

I wore rubber soled flat boots today in hopes that they would shield me from falling. Unfortunately, I forgot to factor in my klutziness into the equation. I was walking up the sidewalk into my boots and despite noticing the layer of ice, I still didn't really pay attention to it. . .the first time. I promptly fell right on my face. Then I tried again. And fell again. The third time was the charm.

However, an hour later I walked two blocks to my doctor's office for an appointment to find out that they had closed the office. So I promptly walked back to the office and yet again had to face the icy uphill sidewalk. Despite a different tactic, I fell two more times.

So basically my shins are bruised to hell and I wore flats for no reason. DAMN YOU SNOW!!!

Perhaps this was nature calling me to a winter sport. I was watching Ski Jumping and think that my Wii Fit skills would translate into Olympic Gold. A 31 year old can totally make it to the Olympics, right?

We Got Donuts for Valentine's Day

When Chef and I first started dating, I would get so anxious about Valentine's Day. I wanted to make it special and had to find the right gift. Chef would try too, but I knew while he wanted to show he cared, he was begrudgingly doing it for that specific holiday.

First of all, it's not quite fair on him that Valentine's Day is only a little over two weeks from my birthday, which is only a month after Christmas. That's a lot of gift giving and creativity to use up in 6-8 weeks time. But I digress.

It's amazing how five years of coupledom will change your perspective. Now we're both like "Wanna go out for drinks together? Cool. Let's not do it on Valentine's Day because it will be too crowded out. Let's go out on Tuesday." It's like we've blended into one low maintenance mind in that way.

So for Valentine's Day today, we cruised over to Krispy Kreme and in a sweeping act of romance, got some HOT FRESH NOW heart-shaped glazed donuts. It was perfect. Now we plan on eating them, doing nothing and enjoying the day together.

And with only dropping about a dozen f-bombs. . .

Last weekend was the Nashville Heart Gala. It's like having 400 people over for dinner. And my role was to make sure they were charged for their meals properly. Well, not exactly.

We had a staff member leave about 2 weeks ago, so my friend Jennifer and I were given the role of learning the software system and running the behind the scenes. It was not a fun thing. Actually, the night of the event was cake. It was the two nights leading up to it that stressed me out. Lots of things to enter and lists to pull, but only so much time.

And to add to the fun, Friday was National Wear Red Day. So our fantastic volunteers were out making things happen so that I could be available to do other things. It was like being in 6 places at once.

But just in the midst of everything, when I was coming home at 10:30 for the second night in a row, I looked up and saw three buildings that I had coordinated in going Red for the night. They were three of five. Suddenly, I felt more productive than I had all week. It was a good feeling.

Snow days that weren't so bad

Before I get too far into this, I'll admit it. I'm one of those Northerners who chuckles obnoxiously at southern snowfall. Others warn me to be careful driving in the weather and I reply "No worries. I took my driving test in the snow."

It's smug and I realize it. It's also one of the few perks I have coming from the North in the eyes of my Southern brethren. I mean, I'm a Yankee and it's often told to me in disdain. Others try to place my origin as I've had enough of the southern twang seep in to my previously flat accent to throw people off.

But I digress.

We got about 4 inches of snow in my little corner of the world. Four inches in Indiana is not enough to call off school, delay work or do anything other than add shoveling snow to your day's to do list. But that amount in Nashville is enough to paralyze the city. Honestly, I'm rather thankful because there are too many people unfamiliar with driving in snow and it's slow intricacies. It can be dangerous to be out with others.

For me, it was a great weekend. The snow on Friday night made it seem like the restaurants open in my neighborhood that would normally be bursting with business were quietly open just for me and Chef to enjoy. Snow slows things down so much that my email inbox wasn't bursting at the seams and my Saturday was spent lounging and working at my leisure.

So I say "Thank You, Snow" for the break. Now get out of here. We've got a Heart Gala next week and this stuff better be gone.

It truly has been my day

I'm 31. Not a big birthday, but a birthday nonetheless. And I learned an important lesson a few years ago. I'm not so important that I can't take a day off of work (even during the busy season) for my birthday. It took a while for my inflated ego to realize it, but once I did, I became a much happier person. I've done the simple thing of taking the day off the last two years and it's made all the difference.

Today has been a great day and for all the simple reasons. Despite the pain of his oral surgery just a few days ago, Chef has been a real trooper. He didn't even pout when I brought home my birthday lunch of Pei Wei and he could only smell it. I got to go to Sephora and blow a big gift card on myself without feeling a bit guilty. I was lucky enough to find a dress suitable enough to wear to work the Heart Gala next weekend for only $35. I got a giant cupcake (my favorite!) and some beer for later.

It's been peaceful, it's been relaxing and most of all, I've been able to forget about my impending work load, responsibilities and mistakes for a day. I only have one more Birthday Wish that I'll happily wait another 8 days to receive...a Colts Super Bowl victory.

And even with the snow (and it's actually coming down quite a bit for Nashville), I'm happily holed up with many well wishes, Chef's attention and lots of a kitty love.

It's a good day.

Happiness is. . .

Your team going to the SuperBowl! Go Colts. Then there's the realization that I have to work at the Nashville Heart Gala the night before and will probably not get home until 2 a.m. So sleepy time until about an hour before kick off.

Now here's hoping that the Vikings lose because I can't think of anything more excruciating than having to listen to two weeks of Brett Favre worship coming from the mouths of sportscasters. I mean, seriously, if I have to hear about him being "old" and having his best year ever for two straight weeks I'll be ready to tackle the shit out of him myself by February 7th.

And TJ Houshmandzadeh, thank you for picking against the Colts every time in the play offs. Please continue to do so.

How To Have A Nervous Breakdown in Three Easy Steps

About this time every year, I start hyperventilating and feeling the impending weight of February pressing down upon me. For any American Heart Association employee, February takes on new meaning. It's our Superbowl, our Mardi Gras, our tax season. It's a month long endurance test of sanity, sensible shoes and the number of hours that can be worked in a day while sleeping and eating in proper proportions.

The pressure of February hits me in the face the day I come back from Christmas break. It's a nice long break to allow us all to sleep as much as possible in a two week period.

So 8 years in, I should be used to this by now, right?

Well, each year is different in what needs to be done, what's new for the year and what new position I might be in. This year, for some reason, hit me harder than last.

So with that and other things, here's what I call the Perfect Storm of a Nervous Breakdown:

1. Feel the oppression of hundreds of hours of looming work for three weeks and have it reach crescendo on a day where you have a minute to realize just how much more there still is to do.
2. Have had your friends and/or family visit you and realize just how much you miss them, how life was simpler when you lived near them and wouldn't be great to move back to a place you originally called home? (later realize it is less the geography and always the people that you miss)
3. Pick a fight with your spouse/significant other as to make every place you are in a day completely awkward and hostile with tinges of nostalgia and reflection.

That's it. The holy trinity of mental instability.

I hit that on Wednesday for no reason in particular. It was a bad day. Thankfully, I also had drinks scheduled with my friend Greg. That helped me vent, made me focus on things other than myself and drew me back into the land of the less volatile. . .even if only for a few hours. A cocktail and an entertaining friend. Just enough in most cases to pull me back.

Sometimes the Internet is Not a Good Thing

Last week I had a face to face chat with one of my favorite out of town co-workers (shout out to you, E) who was telling me of her latest (and first) encounter with a flying squirrel. I, being naive that I am, thought that flying squirrels were a made-up breed of squirrel that were only useful for cartoon makers. However, she enlightened me.

Flying squirrel lovers (aka flyers--which is also the name for cheerleaders who are at the top of pyramids) have close relationships to the animals that feed and breed in the same place for generations. I admit that there's a cool factor to having a pet that flies without being caged and will be loyal for years. Plus no litter box--another plus (sometimes I can convince myself I'm an archaeologist sifting for treasures and other times there's no escaping that I'm scooping poop).

Then as she was chatting came out the words that raised a thousand questions that I knew would never be answered. So, you're warned that by reading the following you will have to live without knowing WHY. Okay, you're warned.

On a web site for Flyer Lovers, there was a list of things that make you a Flyer Lover. One of them read: "You know you're a flyer lover if you let your Flyer pee in your bra just to be closer to your Flyer."

Yup, you read that right. Pee. Bra. Flying Squirrel. Willing Participation from a human.

There are days when I am thankful for all that the Internet has brought into my life and the ease of which information can be found. And then there's rodent urination in human undergarments.

I'm just saying.

However, despite my wonder, I am forever thankful for the nugget of information and more thankful for the wonderful person that shared it with me.

Happy Birthday, Mom!

This morning I was very cold when I decided to venture out from beneath my electric mattress-pad warmed and grabbed a sweatshirt. I'm not a big fan of sweatshirts, but because I've been lazy and haven't ventured out, I've won the two that I have the last two days. It wasn't until sporting the light blue Indiana sweatshirt for a couple hours did I realize two things: 1) I was wearing my mother's old sweatshirt and 2) it was her birthday. My mom would've been 62 today.

Of course, in my head and heart, my mom will always be 52. And in actuality, she's frozen at about 48 in my mind's eye. She was last cancer-free at 48 and when I picture her she's got a full helmet-hair and bangs, her little work outfit and flats (she rarely wore the high heels I'm known for). I picture her walking with her toes turned out, heavy sighing (I did get that from her) and changing from her work stuff immediately into more comfortable attire when it was 5:30.

So 10 years later, I wonder what she would've looked like, what she would've said about my life now and how much she would've loved having grandchildren. She would've loved her grandkitties a lot less because she was allergic to cats. Maybe their forbidden nature in my childhood household made them that more alluring to me later in life.

Nonetheless, Happy Birthday to my Capricorn Mom!

How much should I push myself?? Input Needed!

Tonight at boot camp some of the members were talking about training for a half-marathon and were trying to convince me to try it as well. I've never run more than 3 miles at a time and while I've always wondered if I should run the Music City Half-Marathon, I've always been too chicken to do so.

So, here's the question with the date of April in mind:

Should I try to run a half-marathon?

Not So Much A List of Resolutions...as It's Four Days Into the New Year

I'm not much for resolutions as I've repeatedly said that making a resolution is like making a promise that you never intend on keeping. So instead, I'll have a list of things that I fully intend on doing if not for a whole year then until I stop doing them.

1. Tracking my food. When I do this, I lose weight and give a crap about what's going into my mouth. When I don't, I gain weight and freeze my butt off running in 13 degree weather for no reason other than to not gain even more weight. if I'm going to run in artic temperatures, I'm going to make it count.
2. Turning my work cell phone off at 9 p.m. There is very little that pops me off the couch faster than the stupid little ding from the Moto Q that tells me I have an email. There are also very little important emails that come through at 9 p.m. So a word of warning to those work people who read this--don't send me anything important that I'm not expecting at 9 p.m. and hope to have me read it and review it by 8:30 a.m. It's not going to happen.
3. Delegation! It's time to shove off the things that I can do but shouldn't to others. Just because I CAN do them, doesn't mean it's the best use of my time.
4. Have dates with Chef. We had a couple of them over the break and I forget how much I like to get dressed up for the sole purpose of spending time with him in public and not because I have a big meeting.

That's about all I can handle for this year. Wish me luck!

Things I've Learned in 2009

As we get to the new decade, I'm forced to reflect on the things I've learned from the last year. Here goes:

1. Good or bad eventually things catch up to you. whether it's Tiger Woods's exploits or the opportunities that I've been given this year, I think that whether it's for better or worse things can catch up to you. Not that I'm perfect--far from it-- I'm just glad for this year it was on the good end for me.
2. Sometimes instinct is instinct and not self-fulfilling prophecy. I had some instinctive reactions to people that kept them at an arm's length or brought them in close this year. So far, my instincts were right on for them. That make me feel better about my gut and skeptical as I meet new people. Maybe I'm just a cynical person.
3. No matter how much you avoid the hard conversations they have a way of forcing themselves upon you. That conversation you wanted to avoid because it was awkward, dirty or just plain tough to deal with? Well, it will find you and not when you're ready to have it but when you're at your most vulnerable and don't want to deal with it.
4. Even after the tough conversations, you'll live. I might not have wanted to have some of the talks that I did this year, but in the end they needed to happen. Plus it helps to have Chef saying "How much do you think 'so and so' has cried about your conversation?" to keep things in perspective.
5. Cats are good people. The last is common sense for half of the population. Until last September (2008) I was not one of those people. However, now fully entrenched in catdom, I can say that these little lions are the best pets I could've asked for.
   

So there aren't many lesson for 2009 but the ones I learned were learned the hard way and in a big way. I'm sure I'm forgetting more, but I can say that I'm ready to learn the lessons of 2010.

Happy New Year, everyone!

Doing As Little As Possible For As Long As Possible

For the last couple of days, I've managed to do very little. Cat maintenance, basic personal hygiene and a lot of cooking. However, I have not once opened my computer up and since last Wednesday, have had very little thoughts about work.

I'm suddenly conflicted. Am I just not thinking about work because we're closed or am I so willing to let it go because I'm driven to be driven? Without a constant challenge and stroking of the fires, do I easily give up and go back to my normal slovenly ways?

Whatever it is, I know that things will only get rougher as we approach heart month (February for all you normal people out there), so I'm going to be as slovenly as possible with the majority of my exertion spent on preparing food. Because I love food and eating. . . taquitos are up for lunch!

But until the alarm beckons me to wake for a purpose other than cooking or hitting the stores before they get too crowded, I will be lazy.

Tradition Isn't Everything

There are some lucky people who get to celebrate Christmas the same way every year. For a long time, I was one of them. As a kid, I knew that Christmas Eve was spent at my Grandma Wrye's house with my aunts, uncles and cousins and the annual visit from Santa (who in reality was the town's podiatrist). Christmas was spent waking with my brother in the middle of the night, grabbing our flashlights and then scampering to the living room to see what Santa brought us (our Santa didn't wrap--Smart Santa). We would then crawl back into bed for a few hours before waking at the crack of dawn to actually play with our loot. Later we would pack up and head to my Grandma and Grandpa Clark's house to play with more aunts, uncles and cousins.

That was the constant schedule until my parent's divorced. The schedule stayed about the same except that we unwrapped gifts at Dad's house on Christmas Eve before going to my Grandma Wrye's and with my mom on Christmas before hitting that side of the family. Not too shabby a deal as our Christmas expanded by one.

And then Mom died. That pretty much threw a wrench into any type of Christmas plans that I would ever have again. My brother and other family members tried to keep it the same, but it almost seemed like a weird attempt to recapture a time that was clearly past us. Since then, my Christmas celebrations have varied almost every year. Naturally there was the addition of Chef into the mix, and of course the niece and nephew. Christmas morphed into a three day orgy of presents and shuttling between Indiana, Illinois and all lands in between.

This year and last, Christmas has been more low key in that I have toned down my expectations, travel time and grasp of tradition. I have tried to free myself from doing the things I thought I had to to capture the spirit. But in letting go, I have enjoyed myself more. Five years ago I drove through 23 inches of snow and ice, leaving Chef in our first holiday season together, to be with my family at Christmas. I don't love my family any less, but as I was driving home today from Indiana I realized that if the snow were to hit again, I would probably forgo the treacherous drive. I would probably not leave Chef at home willingly. I have learned that change isn't all that bad in the face of tradition. It can actually be quite freeing. And this holiday was definitely a relaxing one that I will never forget.

sitting at the bar on "vacation"

it's 8 o'clock and i'm at the patterson house waiting for my friend greg to get here. I am officially on "vacation" but it's the kind of vacation where the office is still open and there are two people there, but two people who aren't used to being there alone. i'm sure my fitful sleep will include worries about the alarm being sprung inadvertently in the morning.

so I sit and wait and sip my moscow mule (vodka, lime and homemade ginger syrup- good but a little heavy on the ginger). I hope my friend gets here in one piece with stories to tell. I hope I have time to get my ambien prescription filled tomorrow so I can get a good night's sleep for once (although I will probably worry about driving or eating in my sleep as others have warned).

really I just want my brain to turn off.

I Must've Been a Good Girl This Year

It's a Monday. I'm at work and I've already enjoyed about 66% of my Christmas. Which is to say that I've celebrated with 2 of 3 families so far. And apparently I was better this last year than I thought because I've had a heck of Christmas so far. I can easily say that I'm a spoiled girl. Not only have I gotten to spend some time and see almost all of my family, but my dad and Robin got me a Kindle.

Don't see me as ungrateful as I received some other fantastic presents (which I would list, but fear of sounding like too much of a brat prevents me from doing so). However, I was really stoked to open my kindle. It's now fully charged and linked to my debit card, so I'm sure I'll be broke from all the books I want to buy. I can't tell you the times that I've stood in front of one of my bookcases and picked up one to re-read because I hadn't the time to grab a new book. And there are PLENTY of new books that want to read. And plenty of old ones too. Now it's so easy that I accidentally bought a book.

I was looking to see if the book that has my story in it (Women.Period.) was available for the Kindle (sadly it is not). I apparently was a little rushed in my clicking and while in the results mode accidentally bought a book I will never read: Weaving the Past: A History of Latin America's Indigenous Women from the Prehispanic Period to the Present .

Oh well. Lesson learned. My next Kindle book will be a good one! That I'll buy on purpose.

Shopping with a Strategy

It seems as if my work life and the thoughts that go behind it are slowly seeping into my personal life (or what's left of my personal life). The two have been on a collision course for a while and it's predominantly my fault. But I digress.

I went shopping on Tuesday night because my schedule and the revolution of the earth around the sun dictating the hours in a day allowed me to have one night free for shopping and one night free for wrapping. And by night, I mean 2 hours or so of free time before my head hits the pillow before waking again a few hours later, but that's another story.

Two hours. One night. 16 people to buy gifts for.

It was at that point or realization that I knew instead of my lacksidasical meandering to find things that I got a good vibe from wasn't going to work. It was going to take a battle plan. I scoured the circulars for ideas for certain people. Then I listed out all the stores that carried the items I had in mind. Seeing that, I brainstormed places with good deals on those items to consolidate the 7 stores into 3. I selected which store to go to first based on any contingency plans of second choice gift items. After doing all this, I was ready to shop.

Except for one thing. I had to execute my battle plan without my war paint. Because I was at the gym working out and I didn't want to eat into precious time, I went from the gym to the mall. And not just any mall, but the mall in the ritzy side of town. No make up, hair back in a messy pony tail, t-shirt and capri workout pants (both oversized for comfort).

I should've been embarrassed. I don't like being seen in public (other than maybe Ghetto Kroger or a Harris Teeter trip for 5 items or less) in my workout clothes. I should've cared that I could potentially be smelled by the other patrons (a quick dash through the perfume section took care of that). But instead I was mostly irritated by the fact that it took longer to get someone to ring me up. I get it. I didn't look like a big spender. However, I had the item I needed in my hand and was waiting at a register. It's a done deal. Just sidle on over here and ring me out.

Needless to say, I had less of a problem when my second store was a Target. God bless you, Target. I will love you and your ability to welcome me with the unexplicable smell of popcorn when I enter (which is there whether you sell popcorn at the snack bar or not. Isn't that weird? Do you pipe that in?) and your welcoming beeps because I know that my workout clothes are only slightly worse than the red top and khakis mandated attire of your staff.

And with that, I'll say my strategy paid off. One night. 16 gifts. One hour and 45 minutes including travel time. Not too bad if I say so myself. Hope you had just as good as luck as I did...with a little strategy to boot.

My Turn to Wax Poetic About Cats

I was going to write about a different type of cat (a Tiger), but I looked at the calendar (which I SWORE was my nephew's birthday when in actuality it was yesterday--good thing the present was there on time) and realized today was a different kind of cat's day. Actually, it was two cats' day. One year ago today Chef and I adopted Mila and Attila.

It was kind of a fluke. I was on craigslist posting volunteer opportunities when I decided to check out the pet section. We had gotten Genghis a few months before and noticed his kitten tendencies were getting a little out of hand. "He's got only-kitten disease," we decided and were on the lookout for another kitten. The catch was that we had bought Genghis because we wanted a specific breed (the pixie bob). We didn't want to just get any old cat, but another pixie bob. And we didn't want to pay for another kitten that close to Christmas.

Well low and behold, I typed in "pixie bob" in the search area and came up with a hit. Someone in Columbia was giving away two pixie bobs to a good home because of allergies. It's a long story, but we ended up with them both. And soon Oliver and Olivia became Attila and Mila. I have typed in "pixie bob" randomly ever since and have yet to ever get a hit.

They were both so scared that they spent the first few days hiding behind the toilet. Mila then hid behind the headboard for a few more days. It took a good 3 months for them to warm up to us, but now it's all over. Attila flips on his back at the sight of us coming near in preparation for the belly rub he longs to get. And Mila just waits for one of us to lay on the couch so that she can hop on our chest and knead us with her little paws.

So far it has easily been my second best and luckiest find on the internet. The first, of course, being Chef.

What Happens When You Have 50 Extroverts In a Room

I found out last week while I was on blog hiatus. I was in Dallas for the non-profit version of sales training. You stick a bunch of extroverts in a room and try to have them sit still, not talk too much, and keep to the confines of what they actually know. It's too much for anyone.

It also made me realize that no matter how much I align my external thoughts and ambition to the goals and strategies of the American Heart Association, there's still a part of me that will remain cynical and sarcastic. It's when that part of me quiets that I know I'll be in trouble. I might not wear a backpack and purple Puma suedes to work any more, but I can still see the irony in having to fill out a form and paperwork for a seminar about whether or not we have too many forms and paperwork to fill out.

So it was a few days in a room in Dallas and the content was pretty engaging, the presenters knowledgeable and my peers. . . mostly annoying. I've realized over the year that I'm not good at small talk unless I see the value in developing a relationship with someone. It's probably why I had so many bad first (and only) dates before I met Chef. It's hard for me to fake enthusiasm.

But in the end, I left Dallas with some new ideas and a few trophies from my shopping hunt. So it was a good time.

All I want for Christmas. . .

Is for my shopping to already be done, my Christmas cards already sent and my baking to be complete. I looked up today and realized we're three weeks out from the big day. I also realized that I don't know which relatives we really going to see yet (at least not all of them), so I don't know if I have to ship a little or a LOT of gifts.

Oh and there's the actual going out to get the gifts part. I hate crowds. Like to a degree that I'm beginning to feel the Social Anxiety Disorder that I once legitimately had (I was grieving. It was justifiable.) coming back over me. I see people in line to check out or lines to park and mentally I'm done before I've even begun. I mean, I go to the grocery store on FRIDAY NIGHTS to avoid that crowd. That should say something.

But aside from all of that, I'm heading to Dallas next week for a business trip, which means that my shopping and prep time has been cut by virtually a week. Not only am I gone for four days, but I will undoubtedly have work that has piled up that will knock me off my normal schedule for another three.

Before I sound too much like Scrooge, I will defend myself in saying that I still have some of my mother's holiday spirit in me. This woman would wake us up--even as teens--early on Christmas morning with the smell of baking cinnamon rolls. Once we had the milk down, but with the moustaches still on our faces, she would shove me and my brother to the tree for the orgy of unwrapping and exclamations to begin. And it's that moment. The one where we're all together destroying what took weeks of planning and pain to create and moments to execute. That's my favorite part of the holidays.

Isn't it enough to have to worry about the flu?

Just when I thought the biggest contagious threat of the season was going to be H1N1, a new report comes out that makes me fear something else. . .loneliness.

Apparently, people's feelings of isolation and despair when shared with others can be more than just shared but made literal.

This takes me back to a job I had when I was 16 years old. I was looking for something that I could work in the summer with flexible hours because I played softball an ungodly amount. The only thing I could find was working as a telemarketer. It was horrible.

Our bosses could listen in to us making our sales pitches to get appointments with people to have them try an air filtration system. We were given a headset, a script and a phone book. My boss listened in to one of my calls and then asked me "Why do you think you're not having luck booking appointments?". What I wanted to say was "Because no one wants to hear from a 16 year old telemarketer about air filtration unless they're super attractive and in your living room." What I did say was "Because a lot of people are working and aren't home."

The overzealous guy in the cubicle to my left overheard my conversation and went nuts. "If you start thinking that people won't book appointments because they're not home, then I'll start thinking that people won't book appointments because they're not home and she (girl in cubicle to his left) will start thinking the same thing and then no one will book appointments. Stop thinking like that it. It's contagious."

Now nearly 15 years later, maybe the little weirdo was right. Either way, I only lasted one day.

If it looks like a Tiger, Walks like a Tiger, It's probably hiding something.

I'm not one for jumping on the rumor mill bandwagon, but I have to say that Tiger Woods and his wife Elin are acting a little funny. The whole car accident is a little fishy in the first place. Here are a bunch of random questions that I'd like to ask the pair. Of course, they aren't taking questions now. They were going to answer police questions the day after the crash. Then it was Sunday. Then it was "this is a private matter." My questions are abundant no matter when or if they get answered:

Like, what were you doing that you were in such a hurry that you got into an accident at the end of the driveway? And one that left you with facial lacerations?

And why were you in such a hurry at 2:30 a.m.? I firmly believe that nothing good happens outside the home after midnight. It's just the law of averages.

Let's just say that you had to have your wife bust out the back window of you SUV to drag you out. How did you get the lacerations on your face if the car wasn't going fast enough to deploy airbags?

All of these things add up to a lot of speculation. None of the speculation is any good. In fact, Tiger and Elin made a statement about it. But what it comes down to is that in the end, despite legendary talent, Tiger will end up disappointing us because he's just a man. And we prefer our legends to be more than that.

Frodo or Peter Parker? Who would you choose?

Chef and I were watching a preview for that new movie Brothers when I said "That's a pretty easy choice. If it's between Tobey Maguire and Jake Gyllenhaal, there's no contest. Jake Gyllenhaal." It was at that moment when Chef asked a question that spawned a different debate.

"What if it were between Tobey Maguire and Elijah Wood?," he asked.

Wow. That's a hard question. On the one hand both are short, decidedly feminine and frail looking guys. On the other hand, both are relatively good actors. And lastly, one played a hobbit and the other played Spiderman. Of course then Chef through out "Well, Spiderman is really Peter Parker. He's not so great."

All of which were good points. Elijah played a really creepy cannibal in Sin City. Tobey played a lying wimp who shot a dog in Wonder Boys.

At this point, I'm going back to my original statement. I choose Jake Gyllenhaal.

Can you Gain 85 pounds back in one week?

No? You can't gain it all back in one week? Maybe it just feels like it. I've chowed down with the best of them. Not just because of Thanksgiving, but I've had the whole week off which has not only given me more time to eat and cook, but also go out too.

Few people know that I cook, to be honest. I'm not what one would typically describe as a domestic type of girl. I'm not much on interior design (other than watching "Clean House"). I don't really sew except to put back on the occasional button or mend a rip (although in my head I give the contestants of "Project Runway" a run for their money). But cooking is something that I can do.

It mostly started for two reasons: 1) Chef refused to cook for me every day as he needed some days off. In the beginning I was scared to cook for someone so skilled, but I have since gotten over it. and 2) When I was concentrating hardcore on losing weight, I was manic about controlling what was going into my mouth. Makes it a lot easier when you cook what goes into your mouth.

This year I ended up cooking more for Thanksgiving than I had anticipated. I started off baking a coffee cake on Wednesday and from there, it just snowballed. By the end of Wednesday, I'd cooked macaroni and cheese, corn casserole, sweet potatoes and pumpkin pie. By Thursday, I left the cooking to Chef. He made a delicious fillet, wine reduction, roasted potatoes, salad and rolls. They were all frickin' delicious. And of course, we've been eating off the leftover stuff for days. I'm determined to have it all gone (eaten or thrown away) by Monday. Monday's when I start back on the watching and documenting what I eat. Again. Before I really do gain all the weight back.

Happy Fillet Day?

It has a different kind of ring to it, but this year for Thanksgiving Chef and I have decided to forgo turkey and opt instead for steak. The two of us have some variation of turkey 3 to 5 times a week so having a big juicy turkey on Thursday, doesn't seem as appetizing as cutting into a perfectly cooked steak.

We're still planning on having some of the traditional Thanksgiving sides, like potatoes, sweet potatoes, pumpkin pie and the like, but just subbing out the main dish. Last year I spend all day cooking homemade versions of our favorites to varying degrees of success. This year I'm only spending time on the potatoes. They're my favorite anyway.

Before we get to the big fillet day, I've got some work to do. I've got to finish moving my office, hitting boot camp and a little grocery shopping the next few days. However, our office is closed this week, so my concentration will be split between all of the above and relaxing. It's a good place to be.

Bacon Sounded Better In Theory

I'm a big fan of bacon. There are few food items that are non-carb that I love more. Perhaps avocado. If a sandwich has bacon and avocado on it, watch out. Much like the creators of BaconSalt, I see few flaws in slabs of pork fat. I'll even dig into the turkey version.

However, last night after my first cocktail at The Patterson House, I dug into a Bacon Old fashioned. It was a ballsy move to order a bacon-infused whiskey with some maple and pecan flavored bitters, but I went for it. It was better in theory and kitsch than in actual practice. The initial gulp was pure smoky bacon--which is better chewed than swallowed. The aftertaste was sweeter than the first pull, so it was actually better the more time after the swallow you allowed.

I post these as a warning to my other bacon loving friends, including Wendee who is like me so much so that I know it she wasn't preggers right now she'd have ordered a bacon cocktail too. I will say, though, that if you're in Nashville, The Patterson House is a pretty cool place. Exclusively a cocktail bar, they serve freshly mixed drinks with homemade syrups, bitter and other concoctions. My first drink, the Dark & Stormy, was super delicious and potent with fresh made ginger syrup. I plan on going back with Chef and then Greg again and then taking some of my cocktail loving friends and family when they come in town.

Okay, enough midday procrastination. It's back to moving my office again. . .

Point of No Sleep Returns

Hello, my name is Ashley and I'm addicted to football. It didn't used to be this bad, but with the access to technology and living in SEC country, my addiction has only increased. I can't go a Saturday or Sunday without checking scores or how my fantasy football team is doing. I know more about the injuries to Colts players than their own doctors. It really is an illness that only provides me with anticipation, angst, elation, mood swings, bitterness, happiness, skepticism, joy and utter despair.

And now it's costing me sleep. Something that I value more than nearly anything else. Last night I stayed up to watch the Colts game, which in of itself would put me to sleep that much later than any other night. However, when the Colts make it an exciting game, which nearly every one against the Patriots is, it makes it difficult to wind down. Getting your hands to stop shaking when you've been rocking back and forth like a heroin addict as to not yell or clap or scream to wake your boyfriend is not an easy task. You can't just summon the heady spike of adrenaline and then expect it to leave quickly. It's like Beetlejuice or an in-law's visit.

So because I'm an addict and I watch it, I end up getting so excited that I can't sleep, even when I want to. I knew that going in. And then Chef worked early this morning so I ended up stirring to his morning routine at about 4 a.m. And tossed and turned all night. And now I should be laying my pretty little head against a pillow, but I'm still out here, typing on the computer and watching Monday Night Football. And it's Cleveland vs. Baltimore, so that has to give you some scope of my addiction.

I guess the good news is that there's no football on until Thursday night. And basketball season has started.

Awkward Public Moments

Last night I went to a Predators game with my dad. It was a great night with dinner and conversation and just fun hanging out with my dad. We went to the Preds game and before we could get in, there was a group of people and a camera crew. Seeing as it's Nashville, it's not that unusual to see. In fact, most people were nonplussed, we just were trying to figure out who the crew was for.

At first, I thought it was Bill Frist. Then I saw a plethora of long curly hair on girls of all ages and realized that it was the Duggar Family from "18 Kids and Counting."It quite literally held up the line.

But that wasn't the awkward moment. The awkward moment came after the first period when we were sitting in a Club level suite with about 10 other strangers and a few people I knew. The announcements came on the jumbotron and the first one was a marriage proposal. I was sitting there thinking and nearly saying aloud "I love sports and all, but I'd be a little pissed if Chef pulled that."

A few seconds later there was a commotion behind us in the suite area. I thought it was someone bringing out a cake for a birthday celebration, but instead it was a middle-aged dude on his knee with a ring. The people around them were obviously friends and they were joyous. The woman getting proposed to. . .not so much. In fact, my dad overheard the guy say "Will you at least let me put the ring on your finger? Either way, I bought it for you and it's yours. "

Public proposals are a risky business. The stadium proposal is not as bad, unless you have cameras on you (this couple did not). But why you would perpetrate a public proposal without having a certain answer, is beyond me. I had a friend whose now-husband publicly proposed is an infinitely more creative way--but he was smart enough to she would say yes before doing it. It was my first witnessed public proposal. And a very awkward moment.

Do People Not Understand They Can't Really Control Publicity??

Look I don't agree with Carrie Prejean's political and/or moral views. (For those of you who need a refresher, shes' the beauty queen who was nationally lampooned for her opposition to gay marriage). But like someone who tries to stay consistent, I can't be for freedom of speech and then want to shut up someone that I don't agree with. It's not how freedom works. You can't go half-way.

What I don't get is someone who uses a major aspect of freedom of speech (the free press) to express her viewpoint (and hawk a book), but won't be subjected to the questions asked. Prejean appeared on Larry King Live recently and called him innappropriate for asking about why she decided to settle her lawsuit against the pageant officials. Her original claim was that they impeded her religious freedoms.

Larry King offends me in many other ways (his suspenders, his frog-like face, his penchant for blondes) but asking why Prejean chose to settle when the basis for her fight was so dear to her did not seem "inappropriate." In fact, it seemed logical.

So here's my beef: You can't get beat up by the media, use it to defend yourself and then not expect to have to defend yourself. It's like a verbal boxing match--you don't get hit once, take a few swings back and then throw your hands up in victory. That's not how the media works. At least an intelligent media.

Freedom is not doled out on the cafeteria line where you can choose to forgo the jello and only eat fruit. It's all or nothing.

I choose all.

At Least I Haven't Pigged Out That Much

I've been riding a pretty hard guilt train the last two weeks because although I've still gotten in my morning runs, I haven't been to the gym. It's not because I don't want to. It's simply because I have either had a meeting run into boot camp time, had an emergency editing session run over or had an event. I'm honestly still learning the details of my new position, establishing my systems and reacting to the most urgent stuff first. But despite what might seem like good excuses, they aren't. And whenever I'm not busting my butt hardcore at least twice a week, I feel like I can eat more because it doesn't feel like a sacrifice to ruin my calories over a 20 minute morning run.

Despite my gorging and lack of sustained exercise, I have not been tempted by the Burger King promotion with Microsoft in Japan. Yes, Microsoft. They launched the Windows 7 Whopper that has SEVEN meat patties. It was supposed to run for 7 days (naturally) but was such a success for Burger King in the Japanese market that they extended it. So if you're one of the first 30 people to order it, you get a steal at 777 yen (about $9). After that, it goes up to about $16. And it only costs you 2,120 calories plus a down payment for your future angioplasty.

There are many videos of people conquering the Windows 7 Whopper, but my favorite is this one from a guy who had the local Burger King make one because he couldn't afford to fly to Japan.

He had it his way and then his colon had its way with him.

An Open Letter to the NFL

Dear NFL (and all related broadcasters),
I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. I think you did some additional marketing research or something this year, but I choose to believe this was something done on purpose and not a random act.

I want to thank you because I am an Indianapolis Colts fan. However, I live in Nashville, TN. So, naturally there is a disconnect between what team is supposed to be on the TV and what team I wish would be on the TV. In years past, I've had to strategically plan trips to Indiana on weekends of big games that weren't big enough to be on ESPN or NBC telecasts. I've invested in Sirius radio because if I couldn't see the game, at least I could listen and watch my computer for live updates on the computer with graphics that look like an old football handheld video game my brother used to have as a kid.

However, this year I've gotten to see every Colts game so far this season. Today will be the 8th. I choose to believe that in an effort to support its very lucrative broadcasting and sponsorship contracts that the NFL did a little research on secondary markets. Seeing that each of its 32 teams have a primary media market that LOVES to see their team (and in the case of probably all but maybe Oakland it tends to be where the team calls home), there are also other pockets of geography that have a strong affinity for teams.

For example, Nashville has a very high level of Colts fans because of their allegiance to all things Tennessee Volunteer related and its favorite prodigal son, Peyton Manning. Couple that with being in the same division (AFC South) and it nearly guarantees that any game played by the Colts outside of the Tennessee Titans schedule will garner some great ratings. Really it's a win-win-win scenario.

I choose to believe in research, money and planning than the randomness of TV schedules. Because I want there to be a pattern and not to think that I'm just the luckiest non-Indiana living Colts fan. Either way, it's almost game time and I've got a front row seat.

Sincerely,
your satisfied fan