My Universe Will Never.... So Call Me Maybe

I have radio ADD. I can’t remember when I actually listened to a whole song on the radio. Most often I hit every single one of my pre-programmed station buttons until I find one that isn’t a commercial. It doesn’t matter what the song is, I’ll leave it on if it’s got a good beat. Then I sing through a verse and a chorus and I’m over it. Back to hitting buttons.

More often than that I just hit the “scan” button and let the radio filter through every single station. And just let it scan the entire commute to work. The 8 seconds that it stays on any given station are more than enough before I get bored. Sometimes the lyrics run together as it changes from one station to the next and create amusing lines. Like those poetry magnets we all had in college, but on my radio.

I remember driving my dad to the airport years ago and my radio was scanning. He finally just lost it and said “Would you just pick a station?! Any station, I don’t care, but pick ONE!”

Since doing this while I’ve lived so close to the border I’ve picked up a little Spanish. Sea la persona que llama y la décima victoria de entradas!

Thursday Rant: PMS

It’s time for another Thursday rant. As is my nature I procrastinated and didn’t think about what I was going to rant about before today. I started of this morning as Super-Crab so I figured it would be easy enough. Pick something. Anything. This whole day was a menagerie of things that made me want to swear.

Turns out I’m really just PMSing and irritable.

I’m fine now and, looking back on my day, nothing was really as bad as my hypersensitive emotions made it all out to be. I even slept in until 7:30. That’s AMAZING. But that just couldn’t make me happy.

So, despite my constant ranting all day long, the only thing rant worthy is the PMS itself. Why does it turn us into monsters? I understand how the female body works and I think I know more about the hormones and what exactly they do each month than the average person. What I don’t know is why we become irrational lunatics for 3-5 days before our body finally says “Go! Be gone evilness!” and our period starts. In medieval times it was actually believed that the menstrual cycle was poison leaving a woman’s body and a “sinister time” in which she should be kept in solitude until she was clean.

Gee, I wonder why anyone would ever think that. I’m surprised they didn’t perform more exorcisms.

Two Year Old Socialite

It had occurred to be before and became apparent again today that I would not have a social life were it not for my child. My only friends are the people I know at work and I only see them at work. They’re great but no one wants to hang out with the lady with the baby. So when they get together to go to a baseball game or happy hour (yeah, they really do that) and weekend parties I’m not invited. I’m sure I wouldn’t be turned away if I showed up and the non-invite is not malicious. I’m just not part of that after-work crowd.

Mister has friends, though, which means I have mommy friends by default. We’ve been to two birthday parties this summer and if it weren’t for them I don’t think I would have done anything but work all summer. But the parties, although they were for two year olds, were fun for me and The Captain, too. There are so many parents and other kids there that Mister is entertained and there is always an adult with an eye on him. Birthday parties are like a break for parents (unless it’s your kid’s birthday).

The Captain and I spent three hours talking with other adults that we know and get along with. We laughed, we ate, and no one cared when we excused ourselves to change a diaper or wipe a cake filled face. Dare I say we have friends? Was this as much a social event for us as it was for Mister? Absolutely. The Captain even called me at work to ask me what to wear.

Thank you, son, for sharing your friends’ parents.

Thursday Rant: Oversized Vehicles and the Idiots That Drive Them

Parking lots have designated spaces for lots of people; handicapped, expectant mother, and where I shop colonels and generals have privileged parking as well. These people all have a reason to park closer to the front of the store and I’m ok with it.

Occasionally I come across a spot or a row that is stamped “compact.” There’s a reason for this too. Sometimes those spots are actually smaller than the surrounding spaces and sometimes the lane is just narrower and harder to navigate and back out of.

Whatever the case, get your SUV and full size truck out of my parking space. I drive a Focus. I’m allowed to park in a “compact” space. Why? Because my car FITS in a compact space. Your quad cab Silverado does not.

If you purchase a vehicle this large you have to understand that you lose out on certain privileges. Accept it. And when you know you drive a monster please pull forward at the gas pump. When you use the first pump your front end is actually blocking the pump in front of you so everyone has to wait while you take forever to fill up your 5,862 gallon tank.

Also, if you purchase said large vehicle please be able to DRIVE it. If you don’t know how to use your side mirrors and you have no depth perception you should have gotten a smart car. Backing up can be tricky. So if you have to inch out of a parking space, if you can’t tell how much room is left between your bumper and the car on the other side of the aisle, if your lack of turning radius combined with lack of brains makes you pull forward and adjust 4 times then do us all a favor. Get out of my compact space and drive yourself over to the Kia dealership.

Celebrate Failure

Two weeks down and I haven’t lost a pound. Ok, I know it’s “only” been two weeks. But when you start a brand new workout routine and your old routine was *nothing* AND you cut calories I would expect to at least lose a healthy 1-2 lbs per week. No. Exactly the same. It’s really discouraging.

Have no fear, my “personal trainer” has come up with another plan for this week. I can choose my days and length of each workout as long as by the end of the week I have completed a total of 5 hours of exercise and 1 hour of strength/toning.

Today is off to a great start. I did exactly zero hours of exercise AND had a piece of birthday cake. Did someone say fast track to skinny? Or was that fat track beginning…

Try Something New

This never intended to be a weight loss blog. It’s just a place to let my craziness collect so I don’t explode. I just wanted to blog about whatever is on my mind or going on in the world around me. But lately what’s been on my mind is diet, exercise, and the need to fit into a dress that I already bought for a wedding in 6 weeks.

My weight has always been at the forefront of my thoughts, even when I was thin. I check every nutrition label before I buy food, I choose items off a menu based on the calorie count provided (btw, I LOVE that more and more restaurants and chains are doing this. It makes life so much easier for me). It’s probably more of an obsession than it should be. And now I’ve got my fitness guru and cheering team getting me to exercise more. As a result, you get to hear about it. I’m sure my loyal few are getting sick of this topic, though, so I’m going to try something new. Let’s rant. Yeah for complaining!! Not really, but there are things that bug and irritate all of us. So I’m going to try to post every Thursday about something that I could really, really do without. I stole this idea (kind of) from another blog. So here’s my first Thursday Rant. (If you think of a more creative title than that I welcome suggestions).

Spiders.

*shudder* They really creep me out. Nothing should have more than four legs, it’s just weird. Growing up in Michigan we had daddy long legs. I will spare you a photo because I don’t want to look at it either. They were in abundance in every garage and basement but harmless. Still, eww.

Since moving to my latest location in California I have discovered a plethora of species. In.My.House. And they’re BIG and they look angry. I don’t like any kind of insect in my house and my general rule is that if you’re outside, you live. If you trespass into my home, you die. But I just can’t kill spiders. *shudder* It just gives me the heebie jeebies. The Captain is the official spider killer and I literally make him stop whatever he is doing when I find one, which is about twice a day. He’s been gone and I’ve been brave but I just can’t take it anymore.

Until recently they’ve just been annoying and causing involuntary shivers up my spine (do you think that burns calories?). Yesterday, though, Mister woke up with three bites. Not one, three. The poor little guy is so sensitive to bug bites and I feel so bad. Besides itching he swells up and gets little blisters.

So that’s it. I have to do something more than grab a shoe when I see a spider. Not only are they trespassing but now they are hurting my family. No. Not going to happen. Can you call an exterminator for spiders?

Check The Obituaries

My dear, sweet, in-way-better-shape-than-I-am best friend has come up with this week's workout plan. I got yesterday off and we're back to working out every day. This time, though, I have to commit to a full hour of exercise everyday. At first I laughed. I know she's serious, though, and I know she'll do it. The I swallowed hard and choked a little.

You see, I have next to no endurance. This is why I can never be a runner. Despite the fact that running makes me want to jam hot branding irons in my eyes, I just physically can't do it. My chest starts to hurt, my lungs burn and my eyes get blurry. When I'm done (read as 'when I quit') my legs cave from underneath me and I want to vomit. And that's only after a mile, if I make it that far.

It's day 1 of the new plan and I'm still wearing house slippers. (Yes, I have house slippers. I'm old, ok?) I need to muster up some motivation so I can move on with my day. Costco and Old Navy are calling me. I know if I shower and shop first I'll never workout because I won't want to take another shower. Plus if I wait until Mister is asleep then he can't go running to the neighbor's when I collapse.

I'm going to have to find something that is of less intensity than what I've been doing because this week might kill me.

I'd Rather Be Eating Cheesecake

I hurt. Everywhere. Every time I move it's like a different muscle I didn't know I had screams at me. Ok, maybe it's not really that bad, but I'm really really sore!

You see, my best friend likes to exercise. She likes to "feel the burn" and is a long term very faithful Jazzercise attendee. Recently she joined a gym to mix it up a bit. I joined a gym too. The difference is that she actually goes. But then she came up with this bright idea that we need to hold each other accountable. We've done this before years ago and it worked for a little while. If I weren't scared of the repercussions there is no way I would have been at the city park at 5am to jog the track. She also made me go to Jazzercise on Saturday mornings when we were living together. I had a love/hate relationship with her for that.

This time around she says we need to exercise every single day for a week. She is going to the gym every day and, since I've got Mister, I need to do whatever I can. We report back every evening. I've mostly been doing work out videos at home after Mister goes to bed. One day I plopped him in the stroller and jogged/walked 3 miles around the lake.

So for 7 days straight I have done some form of exercise to get my heart rate up and make me sweat. It's definitely more than my body is used to and absolutely would not have been accomplished if I didn't have to tell my best friend that evening. When she texts and says she went to a turbo kick class I cannot text back and tell her I sat on the couch eating oreos.

I have to admit I feel better. I'd love to lose weight but I know that even if I don't shed any significant poundage I am making my heart and overall mind and body healthier. So its good. But I'm glad the week is over. She just sent me a text and said "We did it! We'll talk about next week's plan later."

Next week?

We've Moved! Fancy That...

You got it. Since I've last posted we have picked up our family and moved. Again. Surprise! Not really. We're nomadic, it's right there in the title of the blog. Hellooo.

It was also just brought to my attention that I haven't written an entry in quite some time. There were rumors that I ran off to New Zealand to become a wild life photographer but was committed to a psychiatric hospital for depression after being forced to give up photography when my hand was bitten off by a mountain goat. (They eat everything). I want to be the first to tell you none of that is true.

Life just happens. I'm a busy mom working 2.5 jobs and I try to spend every minute I can with my precious little Mister before he gets too big for snuggles. I've made some significant changes to my life since my brain last threw up on the internet and I'd love to tell you all about it if I can sit myself down often enough to do so. To help curb your anxiety (I know you just can't stand it) here's a bullet list of things you can look forward to:

Mister's Second Birthday

New Exercise Plan

Sister Wedding!

Michigan Summers Suck

Diet What?

To recap: I am alive and well with both hands and swear to do this more often. (I said the same thing when I joined a gym. See future exercise post)