Friday, July 30, 2010

Insanity thy name is me...

Wow – I had not realized how long it has been since I last posted. Sorry about that! My life is in kind of a holding pattern right now, and unfortunately that makes everything lock up; my brain, my body – everything.

Albert Einstein once said "The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results".

I am definitely insane.

During these weeks that I have not posted, I have been eating fast-food and grocery store deli stuff almost exclusively. I haven’t really been exercising (well, a little), and I have not been weighing myself. What is the point? I have been doing all of that for years and years and it has not led to weight loss yet. But I keep doing it over and over, each time expecting that maybe THIS time, it will be different.

Insane.

I have been walking a little more. My friend, Katina, and I have decided that we have just got to get the bodies in motion. So I have been driving over to her neighborhood after work and we walk there. It’s a lovely older neighborhood with lots of shade on the sidewalks.

Problem #1: I am so out of shape that I can barely walk a quarter mile. I use my Nordic walking poles, and if it wasn’t for them I wouldn’t be able to walk 50 feet. We started out at a half mile, but the first time we did it, it took a half hour because I had to keep stopping. My back muscles that run from the top of my butt up towards my ribcage, on either side of my spine, are just ON FIRE. I think they go into some sort of spasm, and I have to stop and bend over and stretch like I’m touching my toes. The second time we did the half mile, I wanted to get down on my hands and knees and crawl the last 30 feet. I take 800mg of Advil about 45 minutes before we walk and I am pretty sure it helps, but Lord Almighty it doesn’t help enough. The third time we met to walk I told her that it was just too much for me. We dropped it to the quarter mile and that helped a lot, but I have to stop at least three times to stretch. We stretch before we walk but I’m still in agony by the end. No pain, no gain, right? Crap. Katina is very patient and kind to me for making her walk so slowly for such a short period of time; she goes ahead and walks another 2 miles after I leave her.

Problem #2: It’s frickin’ bloody hot. It’s the time of year that we hit our really unbearably hot streak; we’ve been lucky in that – like most of the country - our weather has been a little off and so the hot streak took a while to get going. But mercy, it is gaining momentum for sure. It’s been in the mid 90’s all week, and by the middle of August it will be in the 100’s. That usually only lasts for a week (the week of the state fair, of course) and then it gets “cooler” – mid 90’s again for a while. I don’t do heat. Neither does Katina. We are both prone to heat stroke, so we ain’t walking when it’s 95 degrees at 8pm. Not gonna happen.

But we are doing our best. We might start walking at the mall since it’s indoors and air conditioned, but frankly I’d rather have a root canal and a pelvic exam. I hate walking at the mall, especially ours. It’s so small and crowded! Yeah, yeah, poor me, boo hoo.

I haven’t been weighing myself because there really isn’t any point; and I think the batteries are going to die any day now. One day my weight fluxed by 8lbs overnight. That can’t be right, can it? I mean I know water retention and release can count for some significant weight, but 8lbs in one day? I don’t think so. So it is now living under the bathroom sink until I pack it for the trip to Washington and its new life in my sister’s back bathroom.

The move is still on; mom is coming the week of 8/23 to help me pack. It’s kind of sad and humiliating when you are 43 and you need your 74 year old mother to fly out and help you pack, but let me tell ya: she is a packing machine. That woman can have me and my 2-bedroom duplex packed and move ready in about three days. Seriously. I will want to suffocate her in her sleep by the time she leaves, but it will be totally worth it. And this way she knows that all of her china and crystal stemware that she gave to me will be properly packed and she won’t have to worry about it. Because, trust me; she will.

So please bear with me as I tackle this latest hurtle in my life. I am currently without cable at home, so that means no TV and no Internet access. The no TV is weird but I’m getting used to it; hopefully I will use the down time that I usually spent on the couch watching TV and eating crap to do something constructive instead – like pack or clean the house before Mom arrives. My last day at work will be 8/31, so I won’t be able to post anything to my blogs after that until I get to my new home in Washington.

Everyone keep up the great work; I may not have been writing but I have been reading. Thanks to everyone that keeps encouraging me (Nancy @ntexas99 – good luck on your new blogging adventure!) and I promise that I will pick up where I leave off in August.

TTFN.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

French, Turds, Frogs and Foreheads (it’s not what you think)

Yesterday I got to do something I had been waiting my entire life for.

I answered the phone and a very nice lady was asking for someone in French. I replied in English that I thought she dialed the wrong number. She said something else in French and I again told her in English that she had the wrong number. She then tried saying something else, and I gathered myself together and, in perfect French, said, “Je ne parlez pas Francais.” (I do not speak French).

**sound of French crickets in the background**

This of course led to a great number of French words from the lady on the other end of the phone. Apparently the fact that I told her that I do not speak French while actually speaking French threw her for a bit of a loop (perhaps she was accusing me of lying?).

Fortunately the word NO is the same in French and English, so I just kept saying NO until she gave up. I giggled all the rest of the day.

Finally, something from my school days that I could actually apply in real life!! Ask me how often I have used my mimeographing skills, or the geometry I struggled through, or my ability to quote Freud, or how often I have ever jotted down notes in shorthand. A heck of a lot less than I have whipped out my French, let me tell you.

I took two French classes in school; my first one was in the eighth grade. Our French teacher was a very proper and beautiful real live 100% Frenchwoman. From Paris. On our first day of class she taught us all the swear words she knew. We thought she was wonderful. My second French class was as a senior in high school. I can still remember a few phrases, like: My name is Heather. It is eight o’clock (I can say any time up to ten; I can’t remember how to say eleven or twelve.) I am a yellow pencil. (I can’t remember how to say I have, but you never know when saying I am might come in handy.)

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While writing this post, my sister sent me an email about her day today. She doesn’t think that she has any writing skills; I beg to differ. Here is what happened, in her own words (please note that Miss Muffin is a lovely young Rag Doll cat):

You missed 2 rodeos this morning. First one, Miss Muffin apparently had some sort of lady's room issues and found herself with icky sumpin sumpins stuck to her behind. To rid her pretty self of them, she scooted all over the wash room, (guess which room I'll be mopping when it cools off), then dropped 3 turds on the red rug. I didn't see them and managed to step on one of them. Went on a turd hunt and found the other 2. She still had one hanging off her hiney, so I caught her and attempted to remove it with a paper towel. She escaped, with the paper towel still stuck to her and she freaked out! Chased her all over the house, finally got her and held her on her side while snipping off the offending towel and turd with the other! She then retired to the love seat and proceeded to give her self a bath and rearrange her nether regions.

Rodeo number 2, I was minding my own business, watering my front yard flower pots and porch - trying to put the last adventure behind me, er so to speak, when a froggie jumped out of the plant I was watering, landed on my watering can then jumping onto my forehead and then to some other plant behind me. I don't know which one because I was busy screaming and pouring all the rest of the water out of my watering can all over the porch and myself. It cooled me off anyway... See what you're missing?

Couldn’t have written that better myself. Please excuse me, as I now have to go clean up all the root beer I spit everywhere.

TTFN.