the man i love

I know I post quite a bit about men who make me occasionally swoon, but there's only one man who I truly love.  The hubster and I will be celebrating our 15th wedding anniversary tomorrow and I thought I'd take a moment to sing his praises.  Since I'll hopefully be far too indisposed tomorrow (wink wink, nudge nudge) to even touch my computer, I'll sing away today.

We've been together for almost 20 years now and still have no idea why we work so well together.  We're so very different, yet we can finish each other's sentences and laugh at the same non-existent  joke that we thought up at the same time.

He's a cave-dweller, night owl, loud music blaring, karaoke-singing, snoozing in the recliner, neat freak, sci-fi watching, left-brained, technology-loving, easily irritable, sometimes verging on asshole-ish man, but I love him.  I guess my outdoorsy, morning person, classical and jazz loving, choral-singing, never-taking-a-nap, probably too-laid-back, right-brained, drama watching, history-loving, sometimes bitchy self balances things out. 

And the thing is, even though we're so different, he's always encouraging me to do the things I love.  Telling me to get my butt outside when he can tell I'm getting antsy and staring out the windows like a little puppy who wants to go out and play.  He buys me art supplies to help me keep my creative side going.  If there's someplace I want to go, he tries his best to make it work so that I just might be able to go after all.

And to top it all off - he doesn't mind the fact that I post things about other men who make me swoon.  He knows he's the only man I love.

To my wonderful husband (who occasionally reads my little blog), I love you dearly.  Here's to another 15 years (hopefully more, as long as we stay healthy) of blissful insanity together.

farewell eric, it was nice while it lasted

Well, any last remaining attraction I had to Alexander Skarsgard is now gone.  All it took was one little video.  I guess I was clinging to Eric's character traits which then carried over into the way I saw him,  but this video finally threw up a huge wall between Eric's bad-ass-ness and skinny, scrawny, dorky (and in this case very drunk) Alexander.  Witness the ickyness below if you dare:



No thanks.  Guess I'll have to stick with Alcide for a while...and I don't even like werewolves.

music to run by

I've gotten into the habit of running 5K 3-4 times a week.  It takes me about an hour when you factor in the walking to where I start running and the walking back home.  That's a lot of time!  And when you're almost always following the same route (with minor variations now and then) you can get pretty bored and lose interest.  When that happens, you start focusing on all the little pains and try to figure out just how much more time you have to be out there and if you can make it and then maybe you can cut the time down just a little bit and it's not such a big deal...etc.   Maybe it's just me.

Anyway, this is why my iPod is my best friend on my runs.  I can sing along (silently, in my head), run to the beat of the music (which can be a total help toward the end when I want to slow down), and focus on something other than my aching shins.  Here are some of my favorite songs to run by:

Lose Yourself - Eminem:  I think this is basically standard for people who listen to music when they run. The driving beat really keeps you going.



Hey Ya - Outkast:  I never really liked this song.  I still don't like it, but again the beat keeps me going.



Rockafeller Skank - Fatboy Slim:  It's the perfect pick me up when I start slowing down.  I smile when it happens to pop up and kick my ass into gear.



Rebel Yell - Billy Idol:  This one used to pop up on a specific running playlist that I had in the winter just when I was about to give up.  Somehow I timed it just right.



Revolution - The Beatles:  This one's slow, and I don't go along with the pace, but it always makes me think of the old Nike commercial.



Just about anything by the Beastie Boys:  As long as it's over a minute long. I hate those short little interludes that pop up in my shuffle.



Wasting Light album - Foo Fighters:  This one took me a little while to warm up to, but now that I have it really keeps me going - especially when I've had a bad day.



One thing I do not listen to...anything from any Rocky soundtrack.  Blech!  I know it works for some people but just thinking about Stallone makes me want to throw up.  That's not very effective as a motivational tool.

sunny day, chasing the clouds away

What a beautiful way to wake up in the morning...  After dreaming about good friends and laughter and love, I wake up next to my husband of almost 15 years (in 3 days), the sun is shining, it's the perfect temperature, and I remember I have no plans for the day other than to enjoy everything around me.

Talk about bliss!

something that popped into my head

Thanks to the Scream Awards that I watched last night, this is one of my random thoughts for the day:

Joe Manganiello as Alcide at his finest in True Blood.
Pic by HBO

Now I move on....

Edit:  Oh, let's go for the whole dang scene, shall we?

what a day for a daydream

It's cold, windy and rainy outside.  I'm sitting in my office not feeling like doing anything.  My mind races from point A to point B to point Q and around again.  No clear thoughts, just bits and pieces of daydreams and memories and song lyrics and photos and tasks that I need to try to remember.  It would be a great day to lounge around at home alone listening to music, singing along, dancing around the house and just being free to whatever whim possesses me at that moment.  But here I sit at a computer trying to look productive for another 4 1/2 hours, hoping that nobody gives me any actual work to do.  If my thoughts aren't even streamlined enough to write a good blog post today, writing a contract would certainly not be the wisest idea. 

the kind of epiphany i don't enjoy

Ugh, I just realized something about myself and it makes me ill.  For years, I've been the kind of person I can't stand - the "woe is me" attention whore.  The only difference is that I didn't put it out there for the masses, it was just in emails or messages to one person at a time.  My god, those poor people!

Again, bored out of my mind, I took some time and went through some more old emails and messages and found a pattern in them.  They went something like this:

Hello.  How are you?  Questions regarding the other person's life.

Complain about something in my life (money, health issues,  job, money).  Remind the other person that in the grand scheme of things, life isn't really so bad.  Say something happy and uplifting and disgustingly optimistic.  Turn around and complain a little more.

More questions about the other person's life.  Subtly hint that I don't hear from him/her enough because I don't have a life and live to hear from other people.  Wish them best and love and all that and close.

The thing that really sucks about going back and finding these is that I can't now email those people and apologize because it will seem like I'm drawing even more attention to myself which I'm so totally not doing.  I guess the best thing for me to do is say mea culpa, laugh about it (apologetically) in this ever so private blog, and refrain from ever doing that to my besties again.  (Blech - the thought of me even saying besties makes me vomit a little.)

So yeah...sorry guys!  I promise I'll be a happier emailer from now on.  (And why didn't you point it out to me in the first place?  Sheesh!) 

i only sleep in the nude on special occasions

     “What do I wear in bed? Why, Chanel No. 5, of course.” - Marilyn Monroe

Sometimes there's just nothing better than crawling into bed after a long day.  But, what do you wear when you're getting under those comfy sheets?  Are you fully clothed or barely clothed?

I think we all started out the same way - the footie pajamas.

Oh, they were so comfortable...and warm.  You all remember being nice and toasty warm on those winter mornings while eating your cereal and watching cartoons, and then when it was finally time to get dressed, you'd peel those things off and have sweaty feet and it was all good.

How did we ever sleep in those plus all those blankets?

Once we outgrew the footies, we moved into nightgowns with our favorite cartoon characters on them.

They were not at all comfortable, yet we all wore them.  They were terribly itchy and probably anything but flame retardant.  They would shrink quickly, the sleeves were somehow always too short, and as you slept, they somehow wrapped around you like some sort of pink polyester boa constrictor.  I remember having  Strawberry Shortcake and ET nightgowns.  I can still feel the scratchy texture on my skin...

Of course, if it was summer and the nightgowns covered too much skin, we could always throw on our Underoos and be prepared to fight the bad guys as soon as we woke up.

When we got too old for character pajamas, most of us moved on to a big t-shirt and boxer shorts.  Usually the shirts were plastered with pictures of our favorite music or movie stars so we could "sleep with" them.  This trend usually lasts into college where it alternates with tank tops and pajama pants.

At some point in this stage we either move in with a significant other or head out on our own where we realize, "Why do we need to wear anything to bed at all?"  Take everything off and get into bed.  Simplicity at its finest.  Well, either that or we're spending so much time having sex, it's not worth taking the time to put on clothes to get into bed because they're just going to have to come off again anyway.  And it's so convenient we keep going until we're forced to change it.

And that force.....children.  Having to get up in the middle of the night to feed or change them.  Having them walk into your room at 3am because they woke up and you should be awake as well.  Having them crawl into bed with you when they've had a bad dream.  You don't want to have to say, "Hold on honey.  Mommy has to get dressed first," you want to be ready to go.  You throw on a nightie or just stay in the sweats and t-shirt that you were wearing when you were passing out from exhaustion. 

I do miss the whole sleeping in the buff thing.  Now the only time I get to do it is when our son is spending the night somewhere else which might happen once every six months or so.  It's a rarity.  Our wedding anniversary is coming up and we're staying in a hotel alone...and one of the things I'm greatly looking forward to is sleeping sans clothing that night.  Just sleeping in my skin...and maybe some Chanel No. 5.

am i tripping?

Pee-Wee Herman meets Alcide from True Blood?

@peeweeherman

What kind of trans-dimensional whacked-out non-acid-induced altered state of existence is this?

now i can be delivered right to your inbox!

Wow, this newfangled technology is keen! 

I finally figured out how to make it possible for you to subscribe to my blog via email.  It only took me a couple of hours - no biggie. 

Just head on over to the right side of my page and enter your email address in that nifty little box and you'll get my latest blog entries as soon as they're posted. 

Who could ask for anything more?

yes! i've gotten through!

How I know I've gotten through to my child:

My son kept repeating some strange expression the other night and I looked at him with that, "What the hell are you saying?" look on my face.

He said, "All my friends say it."

But then quickly added, "And no, if they jumped off a building I wouldn't do that."

Success!

how does one live off the land when they don't garden or camp?

There have been so many times over the past few years that my hubby and I have said, "Fuck it.  Let's quit our jobs and live off the land."  I'm sure we're not the only ones.  Jobs we hate, not enough money coming in compared to the amount of money we have to spend on food and utilities.  Let's just run away from our problems, start over somewhere else, build a cabin somewhere in a good year-round climate, grow and catch our own food, make our own clothes, not have to pay for anything other than maybe a phone in case of emergency (and for that one of us would have to get a simple part-time job doing something we actually enjoy.)  Ah, that would be the life!

Just a couple...minor... issues with this fantasy though. 

1) I'm not good at growing anything.  Anything I've ever tried, even a simple DIY herb garden, has never fully matured before they wilted and died.  I think the closest my husband's ever come to farming has been FarmVille.  It's hard to have your facebook friends help you out when you're without facebook...or a computer...or electricity.

2) We don't hunt.  Nope, don't like killing animals.  Oh, we can fish.  We're good at fishing.  We have a problem (again) with killing the fish though.  That's why the few times when we do go fishing, we catch and release.  Back into the waters with you, little fishy...I hope you don't find that hole in your lip too annoying. 

3) I've never really roughed it.  To me, camping is a few days in a northwoods cabin complete with indoor plumbing, kitchen facilities, and a somewhat uncomfortable bed.  I have slept in tents, but only in neighbors' backyards as a child.  I really have no desire to sleep in a tent again.  They're uncomfortable and frankly I get a bit claustrophobic in them.  I don't want to dig holes in order for me to poo.  Ick.  I don't even know if my body would let itself do that in a squatting position.  I could probably cook over fire, but what I'd eat (see points 1 & 2) I have no idea.

4) My sewing skills are far from what one would call "good."  I can re-attach any button that's fallen off.  I can hand-stitch a seam that's come undone, but that's it.  I just don't have the patience.  Or the ability to sew straight.  Could make for some really funky clothes.  Remember that shirt that Denise made for Theo in The Cosby Show?

Uh huh...like that.

So, I guess we're just going to have to remain slaves to "the man" and capitalist society and make due with the little that we make, shop at and eat crap from Wal-Mart and go on about our merry way. 

if it is what it is, then what the heck is it?

 

Oh how I despise that term.  It's such a cop out and it's used way too much around my office.

The thing is, everyone perceives things differently.  Even things that you believe to be solid, unchanging things that everyone should see the same way - like a pencil or a piece of paper - are seen differently be everyone who looks at them.

Take the way you look at yourself in a mirror.  Sometimes you look fat, sometimes skinny, sometimes just right...and you haven't gained or lost 20 pounds in the span of a day or two.  I had the strangest thing a couple of nights ago where I looked in the mirror and I looked like an anorexic 50-year-old.  (I swear, I don't do drugs.)  I am certainly nowhere near skinny let alone anorexic, but what I saw when I looked in the mirror was gangly limbs and skin that was hanging off of me.  It was horrible.  I had to remind myself that my brain was playing tricks on me.  Sometimes I look in the mirror and see myself the way I was over a year ago - a little too plump.  It's all how your brain is receiving the signals that particular day combined with your mood, your own self-image, and tons of little factors you'd never even think of.

Looking at the same pencil, one person can see it as too short, another as extremely sharp, while yet another will see it as not sharp enough.  Customer service to one person might be phenomenal while to another it's completely sub-par.  Attractions and aversions and opinions shape a person's perception of every little thing.

So if it is what it is, then who's version of "it" is it? 

Or am I overthinking?

i bet they make you wear mom jeans in hell

Mom Jeans.

The term makes me shiver in disgust.

Don't know what I'm talking about?  Watch this.



See - you know what they are.  You've seen plenty of women wearing them.  Unfortunately, so did I.

When I lost my weight, the jeans that I had were falling off of me - literally.  I was about to go out with friends and wanted to show off the new figure and that just wasn't going to happen in clothes that were two sizes too big for me, so I had to find some new jeans...and fast.

Being in a small town, there's not much to choose from.  We've got Wal-Mart, Kohl's and Shopko.  Yeah.  Cheap and crappy, overpriced and expensive, or jeans for the geriatric set.  I figured I just needed something to get me through, so I went to Wal-Mart and tried on about 5 pairs of jeans.  The jeans in the juniors section were far too tight and low-cut for any person who's had children to wear.  Or any person over the size of 2, for that matter...but don't get me started on that.

I finally found a pair that covered the stuff that needed to be covered and bought them.  And wore them out with my friends and other places...in public...for months.  Then I had an epiphany....

Holy fuck, these are mom jeans!!!

Thumbs-down for Mom Jeans

I was so embarrassed.  They screamed, "I'm not a woman, I'm a mom."  Granted, they didn't have pleats or elastic at the back of the waistband, but they did sit somewhat high on the waist and had a special "slimming panel" to help hide that post c-section pudge.   I vowed that I would buy a new pair of non-mom jeans as soon as I had the money to do so.

And then I never had the money.  Things always came up like...oh...food, utilities, school supplies.  And I continued wearing them and putting off my own vanity for the sake of the family.  But I couldn't do it forever.

Yesterday, we had a little extra money, so the husband went out to buy himself a Brewers shirt to wear to the playoff game (very important) and came back with that and a new pair of jeans.  What the hell?  I get new jeans first!  I pouted.  The hubby thought my pouting was cute, but could feel my pain and told me to go out and buy myself a new pair so I could finally be happy.  (Isn't he a great guy?)

I was willing to take my time and spend a little more, so I tried a few different stores.  (Good lord, jeans are expensive!)  I wasn't finding anything in my price range and was getting completely frustrated, so I decided to try one more store and then give up.  I didn't want to stay out too much longer, so I went right to the jeans, grabbed two different pairs in my size and tried them on.

And they were perfect!!!

Thumbs-up for Non-Mom Jeans!

Look, they're real denim - not just the stretchy stuff that's denim-ish.  They're low and snug, but not so much that my nether-regions are screaming in pain while any fat from my lower torso is pushed up and over the "waistband." In other words - very little muffin top.  I'm a woman again - not just a mom and I no longer feel like I'm in my 50's when I'm wearing jeans.

I'm ready to go out and hit the town.  I just need someone to get me out of the house...