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Wednesday, October 27, 2004

It all depends on how you define "healthy"

EatSmart Veggie Chips are only a healthier snack alternative if you restrain yourself from eating half the bag over the course of your day.

Sigh. I am not to be trusted with the Veggie Chips.


Tuesday, October 26, 2004

This morning…

Outside: Cold and dark.
My bed: Warm and cozy.
Me: Sleepy and sore from yoga class.
My dog: Sweet and snuggly.

You can try to tell me that you would have gotten up on time, but I’d have to call you a liar.


Monday, October 25, 2004

Newlyweds? I think so.

So, today is Zoot's anniversary. She wrote a very sweet post that was romantic and totally made me cry. She and Mr. Zoot used one of the same songs that John and I used in our wedding, which made me all mushy. Then, Myllissa asked, how long can you be a newlywed? Which got me to thinking...

John and I have been married for exactly 2 years and 5 months today. I still think of us as newlweds. I get excited about the fact that we're married. I giggle when someone calls me Mrs. I smile to myself when I think about something funny John said or did. I find new reasons to love him every day. He manages to surprise me on a regular basis. And he's always coming up with new ways to make me smile and giving me new reasons to appreciate him. I think that still qualifies us as newlyweds.

On the other hand, I hope that the friendship, love and joy we have for each other will continue grow and evolve as it has since we got married. I don't plan on stopping that just because a certain amount of time has elapsed. And I hope I'm just as giddy about John in five...fifteen...thiry years...you get the idea. So does newlywed-ism have a time limit, or is it a state of mind? I'm voting for state of mind, and I'm hoping it will last a lifetime.


Tuesday, October 19, 2004

It doesn’t take much

I had a decent time of it in high school. I wasn’t one of the in crowd, but I had an awesome group of friends and was very busy dressing in black, being a punk rock rebel and not wanting to be a cheerleader or whatever, so I didn’t really care about not being popular. That’s not to say I didn’t have problems, because yeesh, who doesn’t have problems in high school? The teenage years are not easy. Plus, I was punk rock, so, you know, I was sooo misunderstood.

Middle school was my time of trauma. I went to a very small school from kindergarten through 8th grade. Kids came and went, but it was mostly the same group in my class the whole time. When we started sixth grade, I got a nasty shock. People who had been my friends for years thought I wasn’t cool anymore. And I can admit it…I was a mess. I had braces. I wore glasses. I got boobs and zits before everyone else. I had no idea what to do with my hair – my mom made me shower at night, and curly hair really, really needs to be washed after you sleep on it. Really. And worst of all, I was smart. It had never been a problem before. We used to have contests to see who could get through the SRA reading kits the fastest. But all of the sudden people were looking down on me for doing my homework and getting good grades. My archenemy Minda told people I didn’t know the names of the members of Duran Duran, even though I did. I was crushed that anyone would believe I was that uncool. Crushed! I wasn’t completely friendless, but I did spend a lot of time feeling like a loser.

And I guess you never completely shake off the shame of the loser label. It certainly doesn’t take much to send my right back to those days. Today, while I was talking in a meeting, two people were whispering, laughing and writing notes. Now, they probably weren’t talking about me. I didn’t say anything stupid, and I wasn’t really talking about anything mockable, but still... And then I noticed I got de-blogrolled off a blog I like (translation: I thought your blog was cool, but now I’ve decided you’re lame and boring) and I was right back to feeling like that pimply, four-eyed, messy-haired, brace-face little girl wondering where her friends went.

Being punk rock and not caring was better. So, meeting people? Nameless blogger? I am totally sneering in your general direction. Now I’m going to go stomp around like I’m wearing combat boots. I’m sure I’ll be feeling better in no time.


Nope. But that’s ok.

Not pregnant. And at first, I was in a very black mood about it. I was going to hide under my covers and stay there forever. I hated everyone and everything. I thought many bitter thoughts along the lines of “Here I am, taking vitamins and avoiding caffeine and giving up my allergy pills and my rosacea medication, taking my temperature every morning and buying expensive ovulation predictor kits so we can time things right and what do I get? Nothing! While crack whores get pregnant.”

It was all very self pitying and not pretty. But then I started thinking about something my yoga teacher said in class on Sunday about having compassion for yourself as well as others. And I decided to give myself a break. So it didn’t happen this month. It will happen. And in the meantime, I have a husband who I love and who makes me deliriously happy, fabulous friends I can really count on, a wonderful dog, a healthy family, and an excellent job that I enjoy. What more could I ask for?

Well, actually, I do have one request for the universe. Zoot’s petition says it all: “Oh Honey. It looks like I'm not pregnant, I'm sorry. But have a look at my ASS.”


Thursday, October 14, 2004

A peek inside my poor, obsessed little brain

Here’s what it is like to be inside my head right now:

Workity work, work, work. Accidentally brush boobs while typing. Oh, they are still sore! Ok, sore boobs, check. Basal body temperature above coverline, check. Tired, check. Could I be pregnant?

Workity work, work, work. Hmmm….I wonder what people are saying online about the debate last night. Check out Slate, CNN, MSNBC and WashingtonPost.com. Oh look, a couple of people have mentioned the weird smirks and odd giggly thing Bush had going on last night. I guess he was trying hard not to look bored and angry like he did in the first debate. And yes! People did notice that whenever he didn’t want to answer a question he talked about education. God, that man is an idiot. I can’t believe he is our president or that he even has a fighting chance at getting re-elected. Oh, and I wonder if I'm pregnant. Are my boobs still sore? Surreptitiously poke self in boob so co-workers passing by won’t see. Ouch. Ok, good.

Workity work, work, work. Is that a cramp? That might be a cramp. Are my boobs still sore? Poke. Ouch. Ok, good. Is there any way a cramp could be a sign of pregnancy? To the Internet!


Click on first Google link: Nope, nothing about cramps on this list.
Click on second Google link: Yuck. Scary pro-life site.
Click on third Google link: Ooh, here’s one.
Cramping could be a sign of:
a) an expanding uterus. Uh, I think it’s a little early for that one.
b) the implantation of the egg in your uterus. Hey, that would actually be happening right about now.
c) an ectopic pregnancy. Oh great. I could finally get pregnant and then have it be ectopic. Hadn’t thought of that.
d) or just that your period is coming. Yep, this would be the most likely reason.

Why do you get your hopes up? You do this every month and then you are never pregnant.

But, then again, one of these times I have to actually be pregnant, right?

Oh, who knows. Maybe it wasn’t even a cramp.

Poke. Ouch. Ok, good.


Wednesday, October 13, 2004

All Hail Chocolate Day!

So today was Chocolate Day at my office. We have it once a year, and everyone bakes or buys chocolate dishes and brings them in. I love Chocolate Day!

First of all, I like to bake, so that part is fun for me. I made my delicious Fudgy Turtle Pie. And then I get to eat lots of chocolate, and who doesn't like that? I had:

a) a piece of my pie
b) 1/2 of a chocolate donut
c) a chocolate covered strawberry
d) a little tiny brownie cup
e) two pieces of the best Texas Sheet cake ever

And that was plenty. If you want to see a photo of all the chocolate day booty, Amalah posted a photo. I was too slow to get any of her Fake Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, but I heard they were amazing.

Now I must go eat some broccoli or spinach or whatever the biological opposite of chocolate is.


New Hampshire Weekend

So, this past weekend I went to New Hampshire for this dedication my friend Jules was having for her son Malcolm. A dedication is kind of like a baptism, except that they don't actually baptize the baby. I had never heard of such a thing before, but I'm not much for religion, so that's no big surprise.

On Saturday, Jules and her aunt and uncle threw this huge Octoberfest party which they have every year. Jules, Melissa(who actually lives in DC, but who I never see) and I were charge of the kid's tent and activities. There was a moon bounce, and water balloon toss, and scavenger hunt and a pie eating contest. There was also a raffle, which I won! In a neat twist, my winnings were just 70 cents less than the cost of my plane ticket. We had a great day, and I got to see lots of people who I hadn't seen in years. And when it got late, we kicked all the kids out of the moon bounce and went in it ourselves. Moon bounces rock!

Sunday was Malcolm's dedication, which was wonderful. It was held in a state park in Rockport, MA, right on the ocean. New England loses to DC bigtime in the spring, but nothing beats a New England autumn. And the ceremony was lovely. A little sad, of course, because Malcolm's father Leo died before he was born, but otherwise, just perfect. The minister really got to know Jules and understood what was important to her, and went out of her way to make the non-Baptists feel welcome. The reception was at Jules dad's house, where I ate a lot of seven layer dip, a delicious Dulce de Leche cake, and got to see even more people I hadn't seen in years. And play with Malcolm and his little cousin Annabelle. And then Jules and Melissa and I wrapped up the evening with some great takeout and even better conversation.

And then --ugh -- a night of very little sleep between a fussy baby and a sick dog. Jules and I were roommates for years, and her dog Keisha was our dog really, and now she's old and has pneumonia and was up coughing a lot. Which meant I was up, worrying about her and feeling bitter about the fact that I wasn't getting any sleep. But I managed to get up at 6:30 to catch a plane back to DC, and made it to work by noon. I highly recommend the Manchester Airport, but I must warn you, if you buy a bagel, they will insist on x-raying it when you go through security. Does anyone else have a problem with eating a freshly x-rayed bagel, or is it just me?


Monday, October 11, 2004

Where the hell have I been?

Well, first there was jury duty.

Then there was the frenzy of trying to get caught up at work after being out for jury duty.

Followed by a very busy weekend.

And missing more work due to a seriously unpleasant bout of stomach flu. Let's just say there was an incident that involved me racing into the house, and shoving past my confused hsband and dog while shouting something along the lines of "Outta the way! Can't talk! Not feeling well!" and leave at that.

A lot of really big, important deadlines at work. Which I made, dire illness and all, thank you very much.

A fun dinner with my friend Laila.

And then a fabulous trip to New Hampshire to see my friend Jules and her baby boy Malcolm. John is anxious to use the computer and I'm kind of tired, so I'll have to tell the story of my trip tomorrow. But if you were wondering, that's where the hell I've been.


Tuesday, October 05, 2004


So, I was watching the movie Blue Crush on Sunday afternoon, (Shut up. It was on cable for free, and I clicked by during one of the cool-looking surfing scenes and got sucked in.) and I was seized by a longing to chuck my boring everyday life and move to Hawaii, where I would live at the beach and learn to surf. Somehow in this fantasy I also have Kate Bosworth’s body, but that’s a whole separate delusion.

The thing is, I’d never actually do it. Or move to Paris or Tuscany or London or Ireland or wherever it is that looks good to me based on a movie I saw or book that I read. But I know that there are people who do just that. My husband’s relatives all seem to be ready to try a new place at the drop of a hat, so he just thinks it is normal. I, on the other hand, get caught up in the romance of the idea for approximately 5.2 seconds, and then reality starts to intrude.

I mean, where would we live? I can’t even pull off buying a house in this country. Would anyone want to hire us to do anything? If we went to Europe, how would Seamus get there? Because he would be the dog who freaks out in the luggage compartment of the plane, gets out of his crate, and chews through some vital wiring in the landing gear.

John looks at the idea and says “Everything would be different! ” and I look at the idea and “But everything would be different. ” All the stores, all the people, all the roads. I wouldn’t know how to find anything. Even the notion of moving to a city that I love, like Vancouver, is intimidating to me.

Am I missing some sort of adventure gene? Or is it that I am more content with the way things are?