A Collection of 2010

I read somewhere that based on numerology 27 was supposed to be a fantastic year for me.  And in the most part, it has been, but I think I've been getting in my own way which caused the bad things that I've experienced.

So, I'm looking forward to bringing in 2011 and enjoying the rest of 27.  Only good things from here!

A collection of 2010:

3 words: unlucky, music, connections

Favorites:


TV Show: Wipeout

Song: The Rescue's cover of Katy Perry's Teenage Dream

Movie: The remake of Nightmare on Elm Street (even though I like the original Freddy better!)  Opening weekend on my birthday!

Football player: The Beast ~ Clay Matthews

Wine: Angelique, Sparkling Wine from Stone's Throw Winery in Door County - almond flavored!

Gift Given:  Sarah's Miche :-)

New tradition: Watching Curious George after work :-p

Web site: http://www.questcrew.com/

~ * ~ * ~


Overrated:  Sarah Palin and Brett Favre --- hello! Go away~

Disappointed:  So You Think You Can Dance? Season 7 -- no reason to watch after this & Alex left b/c of injury.

I need to work on: sticking to a daily routine

Overrated Part 2: the words Vacay and Staycation!~

~  * ~ * ~

Grateful for: new friends that feel like old friends


Travel: Two trips to Door County ... and full wine racks upon return! :-)

I miss:  old friends who used to feel like home

Somewhat obsessed:  twitter, google reader & you tube subscriptions

Here's to 2011 and all the inspiration, opportunity and possibilities it brings!

Made me laugh

Click on the picture below to view the full ad.  Sorry for the size, it's just a snip off a web site.

Daily races, going nowhere

When I start thinking of everything on my to do list, all the chores, books, movies, web sites, writing, hobbies, exercise I could be doing instead of doing what I'm doing right now ... well, let's be honest ... I start to hyperventilate.  The possiblilites are infinite, time, is not.  I know I can't do it all.  I've never tried.

Sometimes I don't do anything because I know I can't accomplish it all.  Hello. Internet, you devious little distracting vixen.

I look at the to do list -- the one that isn't fun or distracting.  And its frustrating to feel weighed down by these tasks. Welcome to being an adult, I feel I can't do what I want.

Because I see the infinite amount of possibilities, and know I'm not always the best at allocating my time to fit in the most I can, sometimes, I say no.  I know my limits.

If I've said no to you, please don't take offense. It's not that you aren't important, but moreso, I want to give you 100 percent of my time or efforts.  It's annoying when people commit to something and back out last minute because they were overbooked.  Or someone's schedule is so full that they are too busy thinking/worrying about how they are going to get to the next thing that they do not enjoy what's in front of them in that moment.

I've seen it.  And I can't be that person.

The Walls would close in on Me

I have a confession to make.  I panic.  I am a panickier. (Look at that word.  Who came up with idea to put the 'K' in there?  And an 'I' in addition to the 'ER'? Strange.)

When something happens my mind goes to the worst case scenario and the sky might as well be falling because it's all over Charlie.

When I was younger I was a chronic worrier.  I would worry about everything -- so much that it physically made me sick.  I think I got over that between junior year of high school and sophomore year of college.  But what replaced it was my doomsday gut reactions.

Now that I'm responsible for myself and any financial consequences that the universe throws at me I can't help but to freak out at Every. Little. Thing.

I started wheezing last week and ohmigod, I was having an asthma attack.  It didn't dawn on me until the next day that it could possibly just be a chest cold.  It was a very long, sleepless night before I came to that conclusion though.

My oven stopped working and then came the mental calculations of how I was going to afford a new one, the anticipated stress of finding a new one and getting rid of the old one.

I wouldn't say I'm a hypochondriac because I hate these panic attacks and always have to talk myself out of them.  I also hate going to the doctor, that probably has something to do with it.

While for the most part I'm managing my panic okay, I don't know how to shut it off completely.  And once I get over that there will probably some other neuroses taking its place.

But just so you know, if I ever break a heel at a dance club, I'm going to be all Panic! At the Disco.  ..... :-)

Sorry, had to do it.

Totally ready for some football

Football is back --- Wahhooooo!!

Without it, fall would be so much less enjoyable, and Sunday would be a sad day.  I'm nervous about the potential lock out next season, and see valid positions on both sides of the table.

We got off to a great start with the Saints win over the Vikings -- but the slow, defensive battle is an indicator of the rest of Week 1 games. There weren't a lot of high flying exciting games -- at least not on my tv screen.

It's like February -- only warm

I have been living under a black cloud of bad luck lately.  This is my official request to cash in some of my good karma.

Two weeks ago I was late as I was heading to work, so I'm rushing down the three stairs to get to my back door and inadvertently kick my compost bucket which  hits the wall and explodes.

That very same week I had to cancel two vacation days because a work project deadline was moved up a week.

Two days later, I'm walking down the stairs to empty my dehumidifier bucket.  I slip down the last two stairs and jam my toe.  Ouch! I hobble around, trying to shake it off ...I was determined to not let it get the best of me.

The next day it hurts and is kind of throbbing, no big deal.  The day after, the last two toes are twice the normal size and half my foot is bruised and my little toe is black.  The bruise has been entertaining though, it changes every day.  I limped for a full week.

It's been enough time for this injury to heal, so a couple days ago, I wore very low heels.  Not even an inch high.  By noon I was totally regretting it.  Bad move, because now the toe is red, throbbing and hurts again when I walk--I think it's official, broken toe.

Let's continue to review my accident prone ways ... on Friday, I went home for lunch (at 2!) and I made myself a cup of green tea.  The water is ready and I pour it into a cup that has a tea ball in it.  But then, as I pick up the cup to move it to the counter from the stove, a tidal wave of scalding water comes cascading over the side.

It rushes is over my hand and it's all I can do not to drop the cup.  Now I have a bright red burn from my index finger all the way across my hand to my ring finger.  I've been putting aloe on it, and I'm worried it's as healed as it's going to get.  I already scar pretty easily so I might have to find my magical scar reducing gel and start putting that on.

Today I stopped to get gas and a cup of coffee.  I lift the nozzle out of the holder and gas splashes up at me, completely covering my shirt.  The nozzle must have been broken because it did the same thing after I took it out of my car (standing far away).  I smelled so bad I gave myself a headache.  So as soon as I could I went home and changed my clothes.

So universe ... I give!  I'm sorry for whatever I did~  I'll stop complaining about the stuff that's driving me crazy.  I hold down the bitterness about office coverage and answering phones.  Just please ... make the bad stuff go away!!

The view from my chair

After work I was sitting in my yellow, very weathered looking Adirondack chair on my patio.  I was struck by the moment--and that moment was exactly what I needed.

Moments of calm, peace and unexpected beauty always captivate me.  You never know when they're coming. So I guess they're God's happy little surprises.

I was working on my new, beautiful laptop (there may be a forthcoming post professing my love) with my feet up on the fire pit and i looked up.  It was quite spectacular, the view from my chair.

In that moment, looking up at this enormous pine tree that I see everyday; a view from a chair that I should have experienced many times before ... was just so new.  I marveled how the world changes from a different perspective.

I've gotten a lot of perspective in the past month.  From the very frivolous---reference above my sleek and sexy new laptop compared to old trusty that is three times as thick.  To the very serious--interviewing an amazing woman who suffered through horrible things that gives me nightmares every time I go back to her story.

Also a reminder of the perspective that I'm an outsider looking in, knowing the price is too high to find the warm feeling of acceptance that used to be natural.

So sitting in my chair, I was took a moment to reflect on how the world changes depending on where you sit--literally and figuratively.

And I reminded myself that while I had poor turn of luck that made my week horrible, bit of bad news  destroyed a week for someone else.

I guess perspective also comes with a healthy dose of gratitude.

Heart in a blender

Disappointed this year.  My colors ... they aren't as brilliant and sparkly.  The squeals.  Well, there aren't any.

So You Think You Can Dance.  Season 8.  EPIC FAIL.  (the season henceforce known as 'Yeah, we can dance, what of it?! (YWCDWOI))

At first, I loved the all stars.  Perhaps they should do just an all star show.  I had so many favorites.  There were so many that could have made the show.

But it wasn't right.  I didn't miss the show when it wasn't on.  I didn't care about every moment.  I *gasp* missed routines.

Part of the tarnish is I think the all stars carried the contestants in a way that they couldn't fail, which resulted in them not pushing themselves.  When contestents dance with someone who excels at their field, and in many instances are teachers themselves, the newbies always maintain the average.  There were no huge missteps, and some times, to borrow from a cliche ... you need to fall to rise again.

Were there too many good contestants?  Very few were not the best in their genre.  I mean, come on, Alex Freakin' Wong.  When the judges say that was perfection (in Week 2!), it gets boring.

Speaking of perfection, maybe there was a memo the audience didn't get.  Judges were way too nice.  The first or second week they were honest, but then they apologized for being harsh.  But, not only is perfection boring, you also don't learn from it.

Because let's face it, even though they maybe more naturally talented or better trained than prior contestants, they aren't as exciting.  There are no highs or lows, it's all mid range.

The choreographers also aren't varied enough.  Or maybe it's not enough of the old favorites.  Every week there's a nappytabs routine.  It doesn't make me hold my breath anymore.  I used to squeal when my fav choregos were on the show.  No Shane.  No Brian.  No Wade.  No Mia. 

I used to get butterflies before the show.  Last week.  I didn't even watch. 

Dancers personalities are great.  Maybe too young, maybe too trained.  But the excitement, passion isn't the same.

Maybe everything just aligned under the wrong star this year.  It just isn't working. 

Injuries.  It's hard to be invested in the competition when the best three dancers are eliminated because of injury.  To leave after that Twitch routine, maybe Alex rose the bar to a level the other dancers couldn't reach and his absence is preventing the others from exceeding expectations.

I'll watch Season 9 --- but in the meantime I'm totally dialed into QuestCrew.com to get the butterflies I used to get.  <3 <3

Find nothing but faith in nothing

I'm going to open a door leading to a dirty little secret.  No, not that secret, but wouldn't you like to know.

My complete and utter lack of motivation--sometimes classified as laziness.  I like to be organized, I don't like to procrastinate ... but somehow I cannot find a happy medium as an adult to accomplish everything that needs to be done.

Talking with friends tonight, I saw they had the same dilemma.  They also have the room with a closed door that hides the mess that just doesn't go away.

We all have best intentions, but when it comes to cleaning vs. vegging out, we prefer, and choose the latter.  I've tried different things, with nothing holding long term success.

I get home from work with the best intentions, and sometimes I am motivated and on a roll enough to follow through and make progress.  The only problem is, the next day it's all there again, or there's something else to get done.  It's a hard blow on the psyche.

If you know how to combat this ... you gotta help me!  I just can't reach any good consistency!

The simple days of llamas and stroking

I was inspired by a friend to look through high school yearbooks.  (Eek.)  In most ways, it's a pleasant trip down memory lane.

I really hit my stride in Junior year so I bypassed the awkward years and started at that yearbook.  Some of the stuff I don't remember .... but you have to hand it to my friends, they did a lot better than have a nice summer, see you next year and good luck in the future.  Oh no, when my children read this in the future they'll wonder about their mom.

Let me take you through what they'll learn:
1. There was a competition of who could write the most. Kerry won. Lindsey came in second.  The tandem of Jenny and Kriston came in third and Josey observed the long winded nature of all of them.
    1a. Kerry also wrote in the shiny purple pen and told me that when I was bored I should erase the silver so it would be purple.  I never did that ... although the word angel is erased.  I think Kerry did that herself, but she's still not fooling anyone.
2. Mr. Buchanan is mentioned almost more than I am.  We all obviously enjoyed, hated and obsessed about comps and physics.  The crowds rejoiced when we were done.
3. A lot of people were really happy I was Editor-in-Chief next year.
4. Lindsey started a rumor about me and Amish boys.  (Seriously Lindsey, wtf was up with that?)
5. Even though Jennifer and I didn't see each other much we had a lot of fun in history.  She claims she won.  Which I remember is not true, I won ... I'm not sure what, but I know it involves biology (from sophomore year, I believe) somehow there were legos and blue diploid freaks.
6. Jenny & Kerry value my friendship.
7. Kerry can't guarantee one of her alter egos won't murder me.
8. Jenny thinks I'm a wonderful person, even if I'm a little sarcastic.
9. Shannon confirms I have the best shoes.
10.  Sarah's not so sure I won't blackmail her.

Our senior year I got a much wider scope of people as the big going away sign fest took place.  A handful of people I used to hang out with pointed that out (Sorry about that, I was probably too weird for you anyways) and the core group didn't hog as much of the pages.

1. There are a lot of animals in here.  Ducks, llamas, monkeys, kitties, squirrels, fleas, cats, deer, donkeys, tigers and turtles.  (And I thought we didn't get into bestiality until junior year of college!)
2. There's also underwear gnomes and naked cowboys.
3. Jenny stole my picture of Johnny and hid it under my starry night picture.  Not cool Jenny. Not cool.
4. Llamas are mentioned on nearly every page.
5. To read the entries, I literally have to turn the book around and around.  Looks like I'm not the only one who can't write in a straight line.
6. To my surprise, the word lesbian comes up less than five times.  (Glad to see I rose above that)
7. I am, however, known for stroking things and dropping Charity's agenda.
8. Jennifer still thinks she won.  Though, we all know, she is wrong.
9. Eight teachers signed my yearbook.
10. Kerry and Lindsey did not.  I remember Kerry and I did an exchange, but its not with my yearbook.  Probably put it in my agenda.  Oh the STORIES that Agenda COULD TELL!!
11. Most of people did not sign their last name.    Seriously, more than half of them.

How is it that licking is not even mentioned once?!

As much as I have mixed emotions about that time (and the year to follow), it makes me nostalgic.

Ahh the simple days of llamas and stroking.  

All Chips are not created equal

Have you ever stumbled in the magnificent world of Old Dutch Dill Pickle Chips???

O.M.G.  Best Junk Food Ever!!  If I could only eat one chip (or junk food for that matter) for the rest of my life, it would totally be Dill Pickle Chips.  But, only Old Dutch.  I've tried other brands and they just do not hold a candle to these fantastic additions to the potato population.

My dad would bring home Dill Pickle chips as a treat sometimes from his frequent haunt.  Every one thought it was funny that a kid would like something sour.

I still love the chips just as much as before.  If I could buy the bulk seasoning, I'd get that wonderus salty, dilly, vinegary powder and just forgo the chips. To watch my budget (and of course, waistline) I only get them when they're on sale.  Which is way too infrequent.

Last year or so, Old Dutch released Ketchup Potato Chips.  I got a bag.  I'm not so much a ketchup on a chip fan, but love the vinegar-ness of ketchup.  So I figured, what the hell.  If I didn't like them, I'd give them to mom.

Um, well ... that bag never made it home to her.

So now I have a quandry.  When Old Dutch chips are on sale ... I just halved my stock of each.  I only allow my self four bags total (to be stored away out of sight so they last).  So very sad.

Mom realized this, and buys me a bag or two of the Dill whenever they are on sale.  She hides them so my dad doesn't find them and gives them to me.  Reason One Million and 32 why I love my Mommy.

10 Movies, If I were you, I wouldn't see

March Madness means two things to me: there's nothing good on TV for a solid three weeks and I get to do a mega movie marathon.  Typically I go to my DVD collection, but I wasn't in the mood for my old favorites this time around.

So off to the library to get some movies that had been on my list to watch.

In this year's Movie Madness I rediscovered the notion that with the fantastic flicks there must also come the really, really bad ones.

I'm not talking about low-budget special effects, corny 80's movies or random sci-fi musicals.  The really bad movies have almost no redeeming qualities--and the ones they do have you're only telling yourself in order to justify the hours of your life you can't get back.

In the 12 or so movies I watched in these three weeks, there were a couple I watched twice, some that made me laugh, cry and scream.  But one, made me fall asleep. 

Ladies and Gents .... a sign it's a bad movie.  The crap is emanating so thickly from the screen that your eyes cannot stand it and close.

This bad (bad, bad, bad) movie?  Gerry.

Now, I must admit, the only reason I got it was because of Matt Damon.  And after watching it,  I feel the production company should be sued for false advertising.  The paper/reporter who said it was "riveting & captivating story" and "the best film of the year" was either high or watching some other movie.

It's about two friends, Damon and Casey Affleck, out for an afternoon hike in Salt Lake Park.  They wander from the trail and get lost.  And here, let me spoil the ending for you so you don't have to go through the agony yourself.

Moments after Casey dies, Matt hears traffic and walks to the road.  He flags down a car, hops in and leaves his friends body in the windy wasteland.

There are long periods of time where there's no talking.  Most of the conversation is them telling each other stories (jokes).  They call each other Gerry and frequently use it (Gerry) as a noun, verb, adverb and expletive.

Let me demonstrate: This Gerry movie was a Gerry-in' piece of Gerry.  Not as funny when it isn't smurf, is it?

My first attempt, I fell asleep.  I continued only to see if it got better--or if there was a big revelation that would make it make sense.  Because, I was missing something, right?  This Gerry movie can't be so Gerry, right?

The best part--and only mildly amusing part--was when Casey climbed a rock and couldn't get down.  So Matt made a dirt mattress (i.e., a two inch pile of dirt and stones) for him to jump down into.  The theory was that it would cushion Casey's fall and he wouldn't break an ankle.

It worked--but maybe if he would have busted an ankle it might have been more interesting.

At one point I started timing how long they would go without talking, but I got bored and gave up.

This disaster of a film got me thinking.  What other movies made me feel like less of a person for watching them?

So, I compiled for you my Top 10 list of Horrible Movies.  Special Thanks to Kriston and Jenni for their input and inspiration.

10.  Sideways - Weak plot, not enough of Wine Country, even though it toted it was a movie about life in Wine Country.  Vaguely amusing at times.

9. Remake of Planet of the Apes - Just not my kind of movie.  Not interesting, and even though I knew the ending, I found it disappointing and dumb.

8.  Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End - What a way to ruin what was an awesome first film.  Epic Fail Disney.  Epic Fail.

7. Tie: Anchorman & Ace Ventura - Nearly anything by Will Farrell and Jim Carey's early work is crap.  Both Kriston and Jenni said they felt they lost brain cells from watching these movies.  I'd have to agree.  Maybe I don't get the humor.  But I'll pass.

6. Pearl Harbor - Boring and just taking advantage of the popularity of World War II movies.  Very cliche.

5. Disney's Fantasia - Oddly frightening for a movie created for children.  Boring too.  My elementary school played this at a movie day.  We LOVED movie days.  We'd all go to the gym, watch it on the big screen have buttery popcorn and get out of class.  At the break of this movie we begged not to go back.

4. Intolerable Cruelty - Another movie I watched all the way through in hopes it would get better.  Kerry and I dragged the papasan chairs in our room and had drinks for a movie night.  This was way better than the movie.

3. Gerry - Bad enough that it inspired me to write a post about the worst movies I've ever seen.

2. The Exorcist - I have a love-hate relationship with horror movies.  I love the thrill and pure release.  I hate that most of my childhood fears come from seeing the movies at too young of an age. (Let that be a lesson to you: no matter how cute it is that your little pumpkin isn't afraid of the movie, DON'T LET THEM WATCH IT.  THEY WILL BE SCARRED FOR LIFE)

It's all hate for the Exorcist though.  I literally had to will myself not to fall asleep during it.  At the end I asked my mom what I missed because this classic supposedly set the standard for decades of horror films.  I guess that's why there are so many bad horror films.

And, the worst movie I've ever seen .....

1. Monster's Ball.  I wanted to see this movie for two reasons: huge buzz from the Oscars and Heath Ledger.  I cannot pick out a redeeming factor from this movie.  Plot holes. Poor acting in parts and disturbing story.

Now, I'm all for movies that tear down your world to expose a hard truth for a greater purpose.  This was just gritty and dark to be dark and gritty.

Well there you go.  10 movies I would not recommend.

And to help you out a little more ... My tips for your viewing pleasure:

If it's bad, turn it off.  It won't get better.

Watch different movies than your normal style.  You'll find some gems.  Plus you'll sound more intelligent when you tell your friends about the holy piece of Gerry that you wouldn't watch again if you were paid.

Finally, popcorn, papasans and/or booze can redeem the experience even if the actual movie makes you want to poke your eyes out.

Rub some dirt in it!

I wasn't going to watch the Olympics this year.  I just didn't care.  I don't watch these sports--ever--why should I now?

Part of why I'm sick of it is there's always so much hype before the games even start.  We're forced to root on the network-deemed key players: Lindsey Von, Bode Miller, Apolo Anton Ono.

And then, there's figure skating.  That bitter taste of the first sport I ever followed.

I defiantly ignored the pomp and circumstance that is the opening ceremonies.  I was glad to not be a part of those talking about (and witnessing) the Georgian who died in the practice run.

I even stopped listening to my favorite sports shows.

I was that serious people.

But then came Tuesday night, the epic black hole of television viewing.  There was nothing else on, and I was flipping through the channels.

I paused for a second NBC.  Bob Costas was on, so I paused a little longer.  Maybe they would have a segment with Dan Patrick.  Then they started showing whatever sport they were covering. 

And before I could turn the channel, I was drawn in.  For two weeks, it was the highlight of my night.  Maybe it was post-Super Bowl withdraw or that there was absolutely nothing else on television. 

But everything about the Olympics, the history, the stories, the sports had me tuning in.

Of course, the things that bugged me still did.  I watched very little of figure skating.  And, I got sick of the storylines getting shoved down my throat. 

If for nothing else, I'm so happy I didn't miss Shaun White throwing down the Double McTwist 1260.  White excites me the same way Peyton Manning thrills me.  His greatest and dedication elevates the sport.  He makes it look so effortless and turns it into an art. 

Though, he's a bit more naturally entertaining than Manning (even though Manning is deceivingly funny).

So, until we meet again Olympic Games ... I'll try to give you a chance next time around.

Don't judge a book by its first chapter?

All the Flowers are Dying by Lawrence Block surprised me.  I checked out the audio book (most the books I "read" nowadays are audio books) and nearly took it back to the library after a shaky first chapter.  I just had a dud of a book called the White Tiger and I thought my bad luck was continuing.

A man goes to prison to visit a convicted man on death row.  The prisoner claims he is innocent and we learn he's telling the truth.  Because the man who befriends him is the man who framed him.

The book is much too short.  The plot is just exposed and it comes to a conclusion.

But what's there draws you in.  The author shares with you several brutal murders and graphically exposes you to the serial killers mind.  Every chapter you're wondering how his heinous deeds are going to collide with our hero.

The author lent his voice to the recording, which turned me off.  It had little variation from character to character which was distracting.  It took too much concentration to figure out which character was speaking/thinking. 

Plus, it's hard to hear the villain and then the character you're supposed to cheer and relate to share the same voice.

In the end, I'm glad I stuck with this book.  I'd certainly read more from this author.

Feeling Guilty

I didn't wake up on the wrong side of the bed.  I got to sleep in.  My headache is gone.  It's sunny and warm.

So why was I cranky?  I'm not sure.  Maybe it was the bland coffee.  Or that stain on my shirt.  Maybe it was the country music.  Or that I didn't get any breakfast. Maybe it was that my day was planned without consulting me.  Whatever it was I was CRANKY! 

I knew it, I could feel it.  I also could tell it was written all over my face.  But, people being sunny and nice ... it only pissed me off more.  My mom doesn't like it when I'm cranky.  She picks and prods and tries to find out what's wrong ... even when it's nothing more than I'm in a bad mood.  Trouble with that, is that it only makes my mood worse.  She should know, but she does it anyway.

And then I feel guilty for feeling cranky.  But why don't I have the right to be in a bad mood?  Why can I not be left alone to let the sunshine (or coffee) wash it away?


The sunshine, coffee, french fries ... whatever it was .... worked because I'm not in a bad mood anymore.

Now I just feel guilty.

Sunshine Crisis: the Tale of Two Hands

I have a sunshine crisis.  Don't get me wrong, I love sun.  It's wonderful.  We need more to melt the snow and get spring here.  I respect it and always where sunscreen when I'll be out and about.

BUT .... BUT ... and I cannot believe I'm reporting this to you.  It's tanning me unevenly.  Through my office window.

Yes, folks.  My left hand looks like it's back from the future ... the likes of June.  While poor right hand is present day hand of winter-skin-sun-deprived March.  My face also looks like it's been going tanning (without the rest of my pale body).

My office has south windows.  When the sun is shining, it's magnificent, sometimes even too hot. (I know, I know, cry me a river) When it's under, it's freezing. 

I noticed the other day that I had a tan line where my ring is on my left hand.  I thought to myself how odd that was because I usually don't pick up a tan line that deep until late May or June.

As I was putting lotion on yesterday it was like looking at the hands of two different people.  And short of closing my blinds entirely ... I'm not sure what I can do about it, because I cannot move my desk or change where my computer sits.

I guess I'll have to start putting sunscreen on my left arm every morning before I go to work.

The one about the Soy Sauce and Run On Sentences

I have not made a hot meal from scratch in two weeks (excluding the Super Bowl Sunday buffet).

I've not bought fast food or utilized store-bought frozen dinners.  I've only utilized cereal, ham sandwiches, PB&J sandwiches for one or two meals (excluding breakfast).

What I have been doing is totally depleting my freezer reserves of made-ahead meals and eating Super Bowl leftovers.  Enchiladas, Lasagna, Tortellini and Pot stickers .... And my god, so happy I've made those make-ahead-meals. 

Tonight was Pot Stickers, tomorrow I think I'm actually going to have to cook something.  Which means taking that something out of the freezer tonight. Which means I need to remember that before falling asleep.  Which I haven't done because I haven't succeeded in staying up past 9 or 10 all this week.  Maybe the espresso I had at 5:30 will help me.  Maybe.

While enjoying my pot stickers tonight, I was dipping them in Soy Sauce.  I bought the Kikkoman naturally brewed stuff---WOW! It's strong.  The first two dips nearly crossed my eyes.  Of course, me being the dork I am, instead of wasting the soy sauce that I cannot possibly use to dip because it overshadows the flavor of the pot stickers, (note the long run-on sentence, friends, it's a thing of beauty) I got my funnel and poured it back into the bottle. 

It actually worked.  Then, I cut the soy sauce I left in my dish with orange juice.  I just remembered I was also going to put scallions in my dipping sauce.  Oh well, lunch tomorrow I guess.

Okay I'm running out of steam ... and I have work to do ....

In short,
1. When you cook something yummy, make more than you need and freeze some (before you completely cook it, when possible).
2. Orange Juice and Soy Sauce is better dipping sauce (even better if you had scallions in it) than straight Kikkoman Soy Sauce
3. Don't listen to your English teacher. Run On sentences are awesome.

Not too cool for cereal

Okay, so I must walk into this with you with a warning.  I'm blocked.  I don't have anything.  And right now, I'm sick.  But I'm also sick of looking at my blogger bookmark and clicking on others because I have nothing to put here.

I get the case of the know-nothings every year.  This year it's either really late, or it came early.  I'm not sure what to do to make it go away.  All my usual tricks haven't worked.  Listening to music, reading books, trying something new .... football ... nothing!

So I'm just going to type through it ... and hopefully what comes out isn't too much of crap that you forever disregard me and my writing.

I went to the store yesterday to get some orange juice to help power away my cold.  I'm almost half done with what I bought ... still have a queasy stomach, foggy head, no fever though.

There was an awesome sale on Life Cereal, so I also stocked up.  Five boxes!!! My mom never bought Life.  I had it once at my grandmas? or maybe some other relation.  But the moment I had it, I was hooked.  Kinda like Pepsi Twist, dark chocolate and Muscato wine.

I remember telling my mom about this awesome cereal and how amazing it was but for the life of me i couldn't remember the name ... although i knew it was relatively short.  So the next month we went up and down the cereal aisle every time we went grocery shopping.  Finally figured it out ... then saw the price.  And that was the end of my hopes of eating Life.

Now since I'm left to my own vices, I'm not so much of a cereal person.  I'm picky in the way I really don't like eating the same thing day after day.  And I often don't get up with enough time to get dressed, make coffee, get lunch together for the day, do my hair AND eat breakfast.  Sometimes I'm lucky if I get three out of the five done.

But every once and a while cereal sounds good.  And when given the choice it's either life, frosted shredded mini wheats, raisin bran or grape nuts.  Grape nuts is also quite pricey and hardly on sale.  But boy, when Life is on sale I buy it! With Vigor!  Even if I don't need it. (I know, that's also called "hording," but I will eventually eat it ... though I don't think that helped my case any).

So, Life was on sale.  And I bought it (five boxes)! With Vigor!  And I put it down in the basement and stepped back and lovely looked at my collection of Life Cereal.  Oooooh, ahhhhh.

This is why I don't type when I'm blocked.  It's like drunk typing, slightly less typos, same amount of pathetic.  Oh well, I've never been accused of being cool.

Desparately Seeking

Desparately seeking inspiration!!!   I don't know where my little kernal has gone ... but I can't write an interesting (at least to me) entry to save my life!  It all ends up blah, or how to or Zzzzzzz.

Oh inspiration ... where for out thou and how can I entice you to come back home?

On resolving to not have resolutions

We've launched into a new decade.  (Hooray! May it be a hellvua lot better than the last!) Of course with each new year comes the time honored tradition to mumble the words of old ayng zyne ... and resolve to be better than the year before.

I've always sucked at keeping my resolutions, along with every other person who's spending money on a gym membership they stop using in February (even though the calories from Super Bowl Sunday would really benefit a work out).  My resolutions were never unique, lose weight, be more outgoing, spend more time with friends, etc. etc.

Early in my 20's I realized I couldn't remember what I had resolved to do (or stop doing) by the time Saint Patrick's Day rolled around.  So, I stopped making resolutions.  Why delude myself into changing?

In 2008, I wanted to make a change.  Life is too short to settle, and I was sick of not feeling good about myself.  So, I had one thing I want to make progress in.  I thought long and hard about ways I could make it happen.  I made efforts each day.  And, I really, actually was able to change my habits and attitude.

Last year I did the same thing.  I resolved to not make a resolution, but instead, go green.  I did a fair amount of early research.  I added a couple of green blogs into my RSS feeds and found a range of changes I could make.  From the very easy, to the habit forming ... and though I could do more and I'm not at the level of Al Gore, I'm happy with the change I've made in my lifestyle.

Talking to a friend this year, the inevitable question came up.  My answer was I don't make resolutions, but I have a goal in mind.  And as soon as it left my mouth, I realized I was making a resolution.  Damn!!!

So, I guess I failed that resolution in 2003---to not make resolutions---but I've succeeded following through in the life-changes I've set my eye on.

And here's how I've done it:

1. Do your research.  What's involved in your change? What do you need to accomplish it?
2. Map it out.  What changes can you make right away?  What are actions that will take longer to accomplish?  How can you make it into a habit?
3. What does success look like?  Recognize when you're making progress, then go back to your map in #2 and work towards the next level of progress.

You're not going to succeed if you're not truly interested in making a change.  Maybe some people make resolutions purely to be a part of the tradition--and the tradition of not keeping them.  And that's okay too.