Current mood: bouncy
One thing I have ALWAYS wanted was defined abs. Not masculine defined abs. Not even a six pack. Just a nice tummy. I've been in some state of fat-ness for most of my life. I look at the profile of other women and see the flatness of their tummies from the bikini line all the way to their twins and I always feel a twinge of jealousy.
And something that has always pissed me off about that is that there are so many females who really don't have to put much into that look. You may insert your own derrogatory comment for a female here. I am going to try to be nicer this year.
Last week I hit my workouts hard and was very serious about them. Again, went to the weight machine room twice and did five machines each. I hope to go in again this week three times. My previous goal for working out was aerobic/cardio five days a week. My revised goal is to do three to four days of aerobic/cardio every week and three days of weight machines every week.
I have still not weighed. That said, I have seen changes this week. I have had the pair of jeans I wore today for a couple of years. In the last several months I had noticed that although I was "losing" weight, my fat was just shifting somehow and in those jeans, I got the snausage above the waist of my jeans. Many modern ladies wear that snausage like a badge of honor with a tight top squeezed over it and all too often that top would be just short enough that one of the snaus-bags would make an unexpected appearance, that slippery little devil. I guess I am either a) too old fashioned for that look, or b) a little too proud to flash my fat badge in that manner. Back to my jeans... Today, they were not necessarily loose. They weren't even necessarily looser. But, the snausage could not be seen at all. Whoo-hoo!
I am losing weight the way my body usually does, top to bottom. Sounds strange, but this is what I've done every time I've lost. And, I carry a lot of back-fat so I don't always see the weight on my frame. Yesterday when I got out of the shower I noticed I could see my shoulder blades, and I had a mini-party right there in the steamy mirror!
On Wednesday or Thursday (swore I would remember the date, but forgot it already) when I was getting ready to go to the gym I noticed another change that blew me away. I had on my workout pants and sports-bra and was looking for the top I wanted to wear when I caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror. I noticed something I have never had. I don't know what they are called, but there they were anyway. Just below my ribs on either side of my upper stomach there are these new indents. They are roughly the size of a deck of cards (and about that deep), only not necessarily the same shape. I was very excited to meet my new friends. I wasn't even flexing when I saw them. I went back after I got home and had showered and checked to see if they were still there. AND THEY WERE! The next day I threatened Travis' life and told him he better not make fun of me before I asked him to look and see if he could see them too. HE DID!
Apparently the ab-cruncher-hell-seat and the ab-bendy-thingy I did last week are pretty effective at giving you the abs Janet Jackson had in the "That's the Way Love Goes" video (although I am not quite there, that is my long-term goal, regardless of what the scale says). It was worth being sore in the gut for five days (so sore that sneezing and coughing were excruciating). I am going to do them again this week, along with the other machines in the room with which I am unfamiliar.
Maybe since I have noticed more definition in the shoulders, back and abs, this week will be the one when it looks like half my ass fell off.
Currently listening : Tummy Talk By Mr. Richard Release date: 05 September, 2006
Monday, January 21, 2008
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Do NOT Take a Crap in the Gym
Current mood: sore
It really seems like such a simple concept. Really, don't you agree? It isn't nice to do that there.
No, I did not walk past a pile.
There were no land mines around which one needed to negotiate.
I went in today, feeling extremely tired and not at all wanting to do 45 minutes on the elliptical. I had also promised myself that today would be the day I would go in the weight machine room and do five machines. No excuses.
I got on the elliptical (not the one I like being on in the cardio-loft. I got stuck on one which faced a Dieon Sanders framed jersey) and started in. I pumped up the iPod and really began to push myself through the first 13 minutes (which for some reason is always the worst and hardest for me). About five minutes in, there was the distinct odor of... Yeah, you already know.
Now, gas is one thing and I can deal with an OCCASIONAL intestinal release, if the victim really needs to. I can forgive them of their lingering malady with which all of us other exercisers must deal. Why is that forgivable? It goes away. It wafts through, makes itself known and then it freaking goes away.
Today was not a case of the Disappearing Waft. I swear if I didn't know better I woulda thought someone hunkered down and squatted and left me a BIG present behind my machine. We all know that wasn't the case (don't we?), but it was bad. And here's the thing... I work out hard. Hard work means hard and deep breathing which means I have to smell an awful lot of stank from time to time. I think someone pooed their pants and didn't know they had. The stink didn't go away.
I do not expect my fellow gym rats to shower and coif and perfume and paint before attending their workout sessions. I do, however, expect that your ass-stank wont be detectable for the first half of your session. Is that too much to ask? I go in in workout clothes, fresh from oatmeal duty and kid delivery. I get up, I take my hormone pill, I pee, I brush my teeth (you know how I am), I waddle down the hall to the office (where my clothes live), I find suitable workout gear, I awaken the zombies, I hit the kitchen where I first make lunches and then breakfast, I feed the hounds, I change out the laundry, I put on shoes, I wash my face and brush my hair and apply some deoderant, I interdisperse yelling at the kids for whatever miscellaneous reason has me irked at that moment, I get the keys and my purse and set them by the door, I collect the yung-uns and we go, then I go to the gym. How hard is that? Basic hygiene did happen. Why can't others be so considerate?
You got nASSSSty stank and I don't feel like being your victim.
There are showers at the gym. They are free. There is even liquid soap in dispensers mounted in each stall. There are privacy curtains. Use them. Use them at will.
Elliptical- 45 minutes.
Calories burned- 478
Machines used- Lower Back Thingie- 4 sets, 30 reps each, increasing 15 lbs per set (starting at 90 lbs and going up)... Six Pack Builder thingie (which kicked my hammy-ass)- 2 sets, 10 reps each, 30 pounds was all I could muster... Shoulder Hell Thingie (stand on a thin piece of metal with heels hanging over and then tippy toe up and push up on the shoulder pads)-2 sets, 12 reps each (I cramped out both times), I have no idea what weight I had it on... Outer Thigh Thingie- 3 sets, 20 reps each, increasing by 10 lbs each set with angle at 7, started at 40 lobs and worked my way up... Inner Thigh Thingie- 3 sets, 20 reps each, don't know what the angle thingie was because the sticker was removed from the machine (prolly Ol' Poopy Pants that took it off), started at 40 lbs and worked up by 10 lbs per set
Music- started with Timbaland- ended with Fergie (highlights- Michael Jackson, Metallica, Rhianna, Jay Z, Motley Crue, Kevin Fowler, Finger 11, Chris Cagle, Destiny's Child)
Currently listening : Let It Stink By Death Breath Release date: 07 August, 2007
It really seems like such a simple concept. Really, don't you agree? It isn't nice to do that there.
No, I did not walk past a pile.
There were no land mines around which one needed to negotiate.
I went in today, feeling extremely tired and not at all wanting to do 45 minutes on the elliptical. I had also promised myself that today would be the day I would go in the weight machine room and do five machines. No excuses.
I got on the elliptical (not the one I like being on in the cardio-loft. I got stuck on one which faced a Dieon Sanders framed jersey) and started in. I pumped up the iPod and really began to push myself through the first 13 minutes (which for some reason is always the worst and hardest for me). About five minutes in, there was the distinct odor of... Yeah, you already know.
Now, gas is one thing and I can deal with an OCCASIONAL intestinal release, if the victim really needs to. I can forgive them of their lingering malady with which all of us other exercisers must deal. Why is that forgivable? It goes away. It wafts through, makes itself known and then it freaking goes away.
Today was not a case of the Disappearing Waft. I swear if I didn't know better I woulda thought someone hunkered down and squatted and left me a BIG present behind my machine. We all know that wasn't the case (don't we?), but it was bad. And here's the thing... I work out hard. Hard work means hard and deep breathing which means I have to smell an awful lot of stank from time to time. I think someone pooed their pants and didn't know they had. The stink didn't go away.
I do not expect my fellow gym rats to shower and coif and perfume and paint before attending their workout sessions. I do, however, expect that your ass-stank wont be detectable for the first half of your session. Is that too much to ask? I go in in workout clothes, fresh from oatmeal duty and kid delivery. I get up, I take my hormone pill, I pee, I brush my teeth (you know how I am), I waddle down the hall to the office (where my clothes live), I find suitable workout gear, I awaken the zombies, I hit the kitchen where I first make lunches and then breakfast, I feed the hounds, I change out the laundry, I put on shoes, I wash my face and brush my hair and apply some deoderant, I interdisperse yelling at the kids for whatever miscellaneous reason has me irked at that moment, I get the keys and my purse and set them by the door, I collect the yung-uns and we go, then I go to the gym. How hard is that? Basic hygiene did happen. Why can't others be so considerate?
You got nASSSSty stank and I don't feel like being your victim.
There are showers at the gym. They are free. There is even liquid soap in dispensers mounted in each stall. There are privacy curtains. Use them. Use them at will.
Elliptical- 45 minutes.
Calories burned- 478
Machines used- Lower Back Thingie- 4 sets, 30 reps each, increasing 15 lbs per set (starting at 90 lbs and going up)... Six Pack Builder thingie (which kicked my hammy-ass)- 2 sets, 10 reps each, 30 pounds was all I could muster... Shoulder Hell Thingie (stand on a thin piece of metal with heels hanging over and then tippy toe up and push up on the shoulder pads)-2 sets, 12 reps each (I cramped out both times), I have no idea what weight I had it on... Outer Thigh Thingie- 3 sets, 20 reps each, increasing by 10 lbs each set with angle at 7, started at 40 lobs and worked my way up... Inner Thigh Thingie- 3 sets, 20 reps each, don't know what the angle thingie was because the sticker was removed from the machine (prolly Ol' Poopy Pants that took it off), started at 40 lbs and worked up by 10 lbs per set
Music- started with Timbaland- ended with Fergie (highlights- Michael Jackson, Metallica, Rhianna, Jay Z, Motley Crue, Kevin Fowler, Finger 11, Chris Cagle, Destiny's Child)
Currently listening : Let It Stink By Death Breath Release date: 07 August, 2007
Saturday, January 12, 2008
How to Look Good Naked (I'm divulging)
New show- Lifetime.
Love it.
I'm just now watching it for the first time. I recorded it last night while we were out. I'm sitting here in my family room, with no bra (scary, really super-scary), my HUGE pajama pants, my bed-head, wrapped in my fuzzy blanket, with my hair not brushed (teeth are, kind of a pet peeve), eating a bowl of leftover pasta from last night, feeling so incredibly sorry for my husband.
I think he deserves more.
This is gonna get a little deep, turn back now and save yourself. I am absolutely NOT looking for sympathy or poor Stacie comments or any of that crap. This is just an expression of how I feel about stuff.
I was a fat kid. Some of you will remember me as such. I was freaking ginormous. And I knew it and kids were cruel and it hurt to be me sometimes. My eyes were opened Freshman year of high school. I saw all the pretty girls with boyfriends and I knew then that if I ever intended to date in high school I needed to do something about myself.
In the summer between Freshman and Sophomore years I went to Weight Watchers. I lost about 50 pounds by the time December hit. The problem was that by the WW standards of the time, I was "supposed" to weigh about five pounds less than the lowest weight I hit, so I could never achieve the "goal" status with them. My brother, a fan of the porn-body, told my mother that I had lost way too much weight and looked sick and that she shouldn't allow me to lose any more. I was athletic. I played a lot of softball at that time. I thought I still looked fat. But, my body started to rebel and gain weight even though I was still following my diet plans with WW.
By Senior year I had had a couple of boyfriends, so my main goal was accomplished, but I had also gained weight. It wasn't that big of a deal then for some reason (maybe I was more content?). Even though I was dating, I still felt as if I were more the type of girl guys wanted to be friends with, not make out with.
Senior year I had the sweetest boyfriend. He was a real cutie (more than just physically speaking). I was so happy and my weight didn't seem to be a big thing any more. Maybe it was him, maybe it was me, maybe it was the weight. Who cares. It was good. We gradutated, I started at ASU, got mono (gained a little weight from it), I transferred to GCC, and shortly thereafter Cutie and I broke up. By that point I was working. I was devastated, but it was only about three months later that I met Travis.
I fell HARD. I think he did too. From the first date we had (June 9, 1991) there was never anyone else. And, I went on birth control for the first time too. Within the first month of taking the pill I had gained about 20-25 pounds (yes, in that month alone). It didn't matter to Travis and I didn't have time to notice it (work, school, Travis, family). We got married in February and I was higher than my pre-WW weight by a few pounds. I still think I looked OK.
When we finally moved to Fort Riley I had gained a lot of weight. We had been apart for six months for Basic and AIT and I had been going to school and working, but I ate my way through that time. That Christmas season I got pregnant with Amanda. I actually lost weight with the pregnancy, about 23 pounds total. I delivered 16 pounds lighter than I had been prior to getting pregnant. It wasn't intentional, but I had the worst morning (evening) sickness of anyone I had ever seen.
Between the kids I gained a lot more weight. Going back on the pill after Amanda was born was a problem. Another 20 pounds came to visit. And then some. I had started going to the gym and was working out regularly but I never saw any weight loss. I had walked the golf course and had run on occasion, but I didn't drop any weight.
We moved to El Paso, Travis deployed, Amanda and I moved back to Glendale to stay with my parents, I ate my way through another separation, we moved back, he came home, he knocked me up with Nolan (planned, kinda), and then we had him. Again, lost weight during the pregnancy, although not as much as I had with Amanda. As soon as he was born I went back on the pill and the weight came again. So, the pill, bad eating habits, working and the babies, more separations, more food= more weight. I got huge.
I had begun to walk like crazy again. I was on very strict food plans on which I monitored my calories, fat intake, fiber intake, water intake, and everything else. I was burning more calories than I ate. I was participating in weight bearing exercise an hour a day, six days a week. It didn't work (after about six months I hadn't lost).
I was going to college, working part-time at the station on weekends, getting ready for Korea (for Travis), and I was gaining weight again. It sucked. During Korea I was working on the morning show, getting up at 3, getting the kids to childcare by 4:20, at the studios by 5 or so and on the air at 5:30. I would work, go home and eat (something bad for me, usually), run errands, pick up the kids from school and childcare, go home, make dinner and collapse. The only thing worse was when I had remotes at night. Then I had to go home, get the kids ready to go back to childcare, drop them off, work the remote (I will spare the reader the enormity of that) for a couple of hours, pick the kids up (usually around 10 or 12), put them to bed, grab a nap, get up at 3 and start all over again. When was I supposed to take care of me?
When Travis got home the load lightened a bit. But, I had done a lot of reasearch, talked to the docs, and made up my mind to have gastric bypass. It was a long wait before my name came up on the list. By the time it did, I was at a weight I couldn't believe. I don't speak of the number. Not even to Travis. Only me and my doctors know. On August 23, 2002 I had my gastric bypass surgery. It was the best decision I could have made for my family. Over the first eighteen months I lost about 115 pounds. I looked and felt great!
A year later (August 2003) I left radio. Travis was deployed and the kids were old enough to need me to participate in after-school activities and sports and life, so I quit. It was the second best decision I could have made for my family. I got to enjoy my kids. I had time for me (what a concept).
When the kids and I got sick in December of that year I didn't think much of it. We all wound up going to the doc. The kids went the first day and we got antibiotics and decongestants and everything else. I went the next day and got the same. Oh, and I got a lump. That was the beginning of the cancer journey, but I didn't know it at the time. I went home with the kids for the entire Christmas break. I had never gotten to do that before because of work (either mine or Travis'). My parents took us to Flagstaff and showed us the houses my grandpa and Dad and the uncles built, the church, the city buildings, we ate at the family's favorite joint, we played in the snow, we had a great time.
I was slowly gaining weight and I didn't know why. Cut to the chase here- the thyroid was heading south, so between that and what is a normal weight gain for a post-op g.b. patient, I was not liking what my body was doing. More weight, again.
My father died four days after I found out I was cancer free from leukemia.
And the pounds came.
Now, I am 30 pounds up from my lowest post-op weight. I am also 35 pounds less than I was at this point last year. My goal for myself is to lose another 45 pounds from my current weight. At that point, I will be within what is "normal" for my height and frame.
I have been working out like crazy. I gained a lot over Christmas and came back with a fire in my eyes and ready to tackle my weight. And, in the last two weeks, since I reformed my workouts, I have gained two pounds. This angers me.
Travis says I shouldn't step on the scale for a month, just to give my body time to make all the adjusments it will make before it settles in to losing weight. That pisses me off too.
The funny thing is that even when I have been at my heaviest, I didn't really seem to care all that much what people thought of me and I didn't have a negative body image. I was OK with myself. Now, that I am working on it, now that I am putting real effort into my overall health through food plans and exercising and being active, I have a really negative image of myself.
I bought a little warm-up suit yesterday for tomorrow. Nolan has an out of town wrestling match and you do a lot of sitting and waiting in between having the chance to scream for your kid. It was a cute little suit. It was my size. It was extremely comfortable. Yay, right? Nope. I tried it on last night and hated it. It hugged my nasty low-gut and was too tight on my hammy-ass. Travis swears it looked good on me, but I think he said that because he wanted in my pants. So, after I shower and before I go to the freaking gym, I am going to return the suit.
Why do I do this to myself? I want to be on "How to Look Good Naked" because I like what it says about one's perception. I want to know how to look good naked.
Current weight loss- 85 pounds
Love it.
I'm just now watching it for the first time. I recorded it last night while we were out. I'm sitting here in my family room, with no bra (scary, really super-scary), my HUGE pajama pants, my bed-head, wrapped in my fuzzy blanket, with my hair not brushed (teeth are, kind of a pet peeve), eating a bowl of leftover pasta from last night, feeling so incredibly sorry for my husband.
I think he deserves more.
This is gonna get a little deep, turn back now and save yourself. I am absolutely NOT looking for sympathy or poor Stacie comments or any of that crap. This is just an expression of how I feel about stuff.
I was a fat kid. Some of you will remember me as such. I was freaking ginormous. And I knew it and kids were cruel and it hurt to be me sometimes. My eyes were opened Freshman year of high school. I saw all the pretty girls with boyfriends and I knew then that if I ever intended to date in high school I needed to do something about myself.
In the summer between Freshman and Sophomore years I went to Weight Watchers. I lost about 50 pounds by the time December hit. The problem was that by the WW standards of the time, I was "supposed" to weigh about five pounds less than the lowest weight I hit, so I could never achieve the "goal" status with them. My brother, a fan of the porn-body, told my mother that I had lost way too much weight and looked sick and that she shouldn't allow me to lose any more. I was athletic. I played a lot of softball at that time. I thought I still looked fat. But, my body started to rebel and gain weight even though I was still following my diet plans with WW.
By Senior year I had had a couple of boyfriends, so my main goal was accomplished, but I had also gained weight. It wasn't that big of a deal then for some reason (maybe I was more content?). Even though I was dating, I still felt as if I were more the type of girl guys wanted to be friends with, not make out with.
Senior year I had the sweetest boyfriend. He was a real cutie (more than just physically speaking). I was so happy and my weight didn't seem to be a big thing any more. Maybe it was him, maybe it was me, maybe it was the weight. Who cares. It was good. We gradutated, I started at ASU, got mono (gained a little weight from it), I transferred to GCC, and shortly thereafter Cutie and I broke up. By that point I was working. I was devastated, but it was only about three months later that I met Travis.
I fell HARD. I think he did too. From the first date we had (June 9, 1991) there was never anyone else. And, I went on birth control for the first time too. Within the first month of taking the pill I had gained about 20-25 pounds (yes, in that month alone). It didn't matter to Travis and I didn't have time to notice it (work, school, Travis, family). We got married in February and I was higher than my pre-WW weight by a few pounds. I still think I looked OK.
When we finally moved to Fort Riley I had gained a lot of weight. We had been apart for six months for Basic and AIT and I had been going to school and working, but I ate my way through that time. That Christmas season I got pregnant with Amanda. I actually lost weight with the pregnancy, about 23 pounds total. I delivered 16 pounds lighter than I had been prior to getting pregnant. It wasn't intentional, but I had the worst morning (evening) sickness of anyone I had ever seen.
Between the kids I gained a lot more weight. Going back on the pill after Amanda was born was a problem. Another 20 pounds came to visit. And then some. I had started going to the gym and was working out regularly but I never saw any weight loss. I had walked the golf course and had run on occasion, but I didn't drop any weight.
We moved to El Paso, Travis deployed, Amanda and I moved back to Glendale to stay with my parents, I ate my way through another separation, we moved back, he came home, he knocked me up with Nolan (planned, kinda), and then we had him. Again, lost weight during the pregnancy, although not as much as I had with Amanda. As soon as he was born I went back on the pill and the weight came again. So, the pill, bad eating habits, working and the babies, more separations, more food= more weight. I got huge.
I had begun to walk like crazy again. I was on very strict food plans on which I monitored my calories, fat intake, fiber intake, water intake, and everything else. I was burning more calories than I ate. I was participating in weight bearing exercise an hour a day, six days a week. It didn't work (after about six months I hadn't lost).
I was going to college, working part-time at the station on weekends, getting ready for Korea (for Travis), and I was gaining weight again. It sucked. During Korea I was working on the morning show, getting up at 3, getting the kids to childcare by 4:20, at the studios by 5 or so and on the air at 5:30. I would work, go home and eat (something bad for me, usually), run errands, pick up the kids from school and childcare, go home, make dinner and collapse. The only thing worse was when I had remotes at night. Then I had to go home, get the kids ready to go back to childcare, drop them off, work the remote (I will spare the reader the enormity of that) for a couple of hours, pick the kids up (usually around 10 or 12), put them to bed, grab a nap, get up at 3 and start all over again. When was I supposed to take care of me?
When Travis got home the load lightened a bit. But, I had done a lot of reasearch, talked to the docs, and made up my mind to have gastric bypass. It was a long wait before my name came up on the list. By the time it did, I was at a weight I couldn't believe. I don't speak of the number. Not even to Travis. Only me and my doctors know. On August 23, 2002 I had my gastric bypass surgery. It was the best decision I could have made for my family. Over the first eighteen months I lost about 115 pounds. I looked and felt great!
A year later (August 2003) I left radio. Travis was deployed and the kids were old enough to need me to participate in after-school activities and sports and life, so I quit. It was the second best decision I could have made for my family. I got to enjoy my kids. I had time for me (what a concept).
When the kids and I got sick in December of that year I didn't think much of it. We all wound up going to the doc. The kids went the first day and we got antibiotics and decongestants and everything else. I went the next day and got the same. Oh, and I got a lump. That was the beginning of the cancer journey, but I didn't know it at the time. I went home with the kids for the entire Christmas break. I had never gotten to do that before because of work (either mine or Travis'). My parents took us to Flagstaff and showed us the houses my grandpa and Dad and the uncles built, the church, the city buildings, we ate at the family's favorite joint, we played in the snow, we had a great time.
I was slowly gaining weight and I didn't know why. Cut to the chase here- the thyroid was heading south, so between that and what is a normal weight gain for a post-op g.b. patient, I was not liking what my body was doing. More weight, again.
My father died four days after I found out I was cancer free from leukemia.
And the pounds came.
Now, I am 30 pounds up from my lowest post-op weight. I am also 35 pounds less than I was at this point last year. My goal for myself is to lose another 45 pounds from my current weight. At that point, I will be within what is "normal" for my height and frame.
I have been working out like crazy. I gained a lot over Christmas and came back with a fire in my eyes and ready to tackle my weight. And, in the last two weeks, since I reformed my workouts, I have gained two pounds. This angers me.
Travis says I shouldn't step on the scale for a month, just to give my body time to make all the adjusments it will make before it settles in to losing weight. That pisses me off too.
The funny thing is that even when I have been at my heaviest, I didn't really seem to care all that much what people thought of me and I didn't have a negative body image. I was OK with myself. Now, that I am working on it, now that I am putting real effort into my overall health through food plans and exercising and being active, I have a really negative image of myself.
I bought a little warm-up suit yesterday for tomorrow. Nolan has an out of town wrestling match and you do a lot of sitting and waiting in between having the chance to scream for your kid. It was a cute little suit. It was my size. It was extremely comfortable. Yay, right? Nope. I tried it on last night and hated it. It hugged my nasty low-gut and was too tight on my hammy-ass. Travis swears it looked good on me, but I think he said that because he wanted in my pants. So, after I shower and before I go to the freaking gym, I am going to return the suit.
Why do I do this to myself? I want to be on "How to Look Good Naked" because I like what it says about one's perception. I want to know how to look good naked.
Current weight loss- 85 pounds
Thursday, January 10, 2008
It's Thursday
Current mood: confused
Yes, the orders were deleted.
Last Tuesday, when the next round of assignments came about, guess what they read... Yup, SFC Bee-Fort Jackson, South Carolina, report date 10 January 08. Oh yes, got that right. Today would be his report date. He got on the phone and rallied the troops (yeah, I know, corny) and got it deferred until 10 February, as a quick fix.
He's making all the contacts he can to get to stay, the SGM is working her angle, I have no idea what is going on with S-3, but supposedly it is all getting done so I guess whatever is going to happen will happen and that's that.
This weekend we found a trailer in which Travis can live if need be 'til the house sells and we are ready to go. The seller seemed fine with waiting for our funding to be available and he told us he would hold it for us if we needed him to. Good guy. It is nice to do with business with people like him. He's waiting for today, which is when we are supposed to find out whether we stay or whether we go.
Whatever.
Yes, the orders were deleted.
Last Tuesday, when the next round of assignments came about, guess what they read... Yup, SFC Bee-Fort Jackson, South Carolina, report date 10 January 08. Oh yes, got that right. Today would be his report date. He got on the phone and rallied the troops (yeah, I know, corny) and got it deferred until 10 February, as a quick fix.
He's making all the contacts he can to get to stay, the SGM is working her angle, I have no idea what is going on with S-3, but supposedly it is all getting done so I guess whatever is going to happen will happen and that's that.
This weekend we found a trailer in which Travis can live if need be 'til the house sells and we are ready to go. The seller seemed fine with waiting for our funding to be available and he told us he would hold it for us if we needed him to. Good guy. It is nice to do with business with people like him. He's waiting for today, which is when we are supposed to find out whether we stay or whether we go.
Whatever.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
I'm a Whiner
I am trying to figure out if I am just a big whiney butt or what.
Today was just one of those days. I had a business meeting with the Youth Symphony biz team today. It was supposed to be lunch, but for some reason we just never quite got to lunch. I don't know how much we actually accomplished either, but I think we know where we all stand at this point. Hopefully the business end can push the artistic end and vise versa so the culminative efforts will catapult the group. I don't know how much go-juice I got for this with everything else going on, but I'm in it with all I got for the time being. Goals are great, but you have to have a road map sometimes too.
I had a serious headache by the time I got to Geronimo on the interstate, so I pulled off and grabbed a bite. It nearly made me sick. I think the problem was that I just went WAY too long without eating and I've been really trying to eat smart, eat regularly and get all my dietary supplements (which must be taken with a meal) in because when I do and I work out properly, I feel so much better. That just wasn't going to happen today. Greasy, large serving, stress, add it all up and its icky time!
I got home at 2:15. I opened the front door and smelled it. Phoenix sometimes has a hard time holding her potty (remember, she's 13 and in dog years she's whatever she is), so I've become a pro at cleaning a large dog kennel with speed and ease. I changed and started taking care of her pillow and the smell was just as bad. While I was starting to clean the box itself, I glanced at Annabelle's kennel and there was some in there too. I threw her pillow in the washer (God bless the large-capacity) and took her box apart too. The smell was still there. I looked into Penelope's bed and there was even more of it! Holy... well, you get the idea. So, following my trend, threw her bedding in the washer and took hers apart too. Now, what the heck did the three of them get into on the same day at the same time?
As I was cleaning, I stopped twice. The first time I went to school when the bell rang to pick him up, but then remembered that he was going to stay for band practice. The second time was 45 minutes later when I went to pick him up from practice and he asked if he could walk home with his buddy. I was already at school, but it was worth it for him to spend some time with a friend. But, twice I was pulled away from stink-duty. I then got the family and dining rooms vacuumed and the hallways, did the dishes, dried the jeans and straightened the family room.
I finished cleaning the last step of the kennels and stacked them all to dry in my shower while I took the kids to the gym for wrestling. I also took the boyfriend's younger brothers to wrestling to help out the parents, 'cuz the big brubber had a basketball game and the Dad is getting ready to Soldier-up. They're good guys, I like them. I would like to think they had a decent time with us.
I called home and checked with the husband to see if he wanted some kind of takeout for dinner. He agreed, I told him to relax and that I would pick something up on the way. Once practice was finally over I grabbed the three boys and the girl and we ran to the tourney weigh-in at the park on the way to our 'hood. That was not as horrible and disorganized as many of them are, but it took a little time. I called the boys' madre and told her I would drop them off at their house.
After I did, I ran to our house. Originally I was going to drop the kids and grab food, but I decided to save myself a little time and gas and just order a pizza. I did, it came, it was good and I had no dishes (Hallelujah!).
But, here's where the whine comes in. When I sat down with my plate in the family room with everyone I was so pooped out. All I could think of was that I was so friggin' tired and all I wanted was for someone to make me a Diet Coke. I guess I could have asked someone to do it, but I didn't want to bug them because then I would get "the" face and "the" sigh, but I didn't ask.
I just wanted a Diet Coke.
Today was just one of those days. I had a business meeting with the Youth Symphony biz team today. It was supposed to be lunch, but for some reason we just never quite got to lunch. I don't know how much we actually accomplished either, but I think we know where we all stand at this point. Hopefully the business end can push the artistic end and vise versa so the culminative efforts will catapult the group. I don't know how much go-juice I got for this with everything else going on, but I'm in it with all I got for the time being. Goals are great, but you have to have a road map sometimes too.
I had a serious headache by the time I got to Geronimo on the interstate, so I pulled off and grabbed a bite. It nearly made me sick. I think the problem was that I just went WAY too long without eating and I've been really trying to eat smart, eat regularly and get all my dietary supplements (which must be taken with a meal) in because when I do and I work out properly, I feel so much better. That just wasn't going to happen today. Greasy, large serving, stress, add it all up and its icky time!
I got home at 2:15. I opened the front door and smelled it. Phoenix sometimes has a hard time holding her potty (remember, she's 13 and in dog years she's whatever she is), so I've become a pro at cleaning a large dog kennel with speed and ease. I changed and started taking care of her pillow and the smell was just as bad. While I was starting to clean the box itself, I glanced at Annabelle's kennel and there was some in there too. I threw her pillow in the washer (God bless the large-capacity) and took her box apart too. The smell was still there. I looked into Penelope's bed and there was even more of it! Holy... well, you get the idea. So, following my trend, threw her bedding in the washer and took hers apart too. Now, what the heck did the three of them get into on the same day at the same time?
As I was cleaning, I stopped twice. The first time I went to school when the bell rang to pick him up, but then remembered that he was going to stay for band practice. The second time was 45 minutes later when I went to pick him up from practice and he asked if he could walk home with his buddy. I was already at school, but it was worth it for him to spend some time with a friend. But, twice I was pulled away from stink-duty. I then got the family and dining rooms vacuumed and the hallways, did the dishes, dried the jeans and straightened the family room.
I finished cleaning the last step of the kennels and stacked them all to dry in my shower while I took the kids to the gym for wrestling. I also took the boyfriend's younger brothers to wrestling to help out the parents, 'cuz the big brubber had a basketball game and the Dad is getting ready to Soldier-up. They're good guys, I like them. I would like to think they had a decent time with us.
I called home and checked with the husband to see if he wanted some kind of takeout for dinner. He agreed, I told him to relax and that I would pick something up on the way. Once practice was finally over I grabbed the three boys and the girl and we ran to the tourney weigh-in at the park on the way to our 'hood. That was not as horrible and disorganized as many of them are, but it took a little time. I called the boys' madre and told her I would drop them off at their house.
After I did, I ran to our house. Originally I was going to drop the kids and grab food, but I decided to save myself a little time and gas and just order a pizza. I did, it came, it was good and I had no dishes (Hallelujah!).
But, here's where the whine comes in. When I sat down with my plate in the family room with everyone I was so pooped out. All I could think of was that I was so friggin' tired and all I wanted was for someone to make me a Diet Coke. I guess I could have asked someone to do it, but I didn't want to bug them because then I would get "the" face and "the" sigh, but I didn't ask.
I just wanted a Diet Coke.
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