Jamie Lynn Ward - the girl who's dad shot himself and is paralyzed - her name is hick enough, but she looks like she's straight out of the OC. I felt like I was playing a game of "what's wrong with this picture".
Did anyone else notice when Ryan was was talking to Victoria - the girl with 6 feet of hair - that he used the word "hair" twice instead of "here"? What is with the mother/daughter matching this season?!
I was bad at lunch today and had about 1/2 of a baked potato cheddar bread bowl from Claim Jumper...Rachel made me do it! Feeling a little guilty, I went to the gym and spent 20 minutes on the elliptical and then did crunches. That's twice as long as I was able to survive on the elliptical just a few weeks ago...YAY!
Just in case you were wondering...I'm still procrastinating on finishing sewing the sashes. That's what tomorrow night is for :)
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Monday, January 29, 2007
I had a case of the Mondays...
Ok, so here's how today went:
I wake up, it's 6:20 AM. Two problems: 1) my alarm clock did NOT wake me, 2) I'm supposed to leave my house no later than 6:15 AM to get to work by 8:00 (yes I live in the middle of nowhere). Faced with the decision to shower or not, I rationalize that I'm going to be late regardless, so I might as well take the extra 10 minutes and shower (and pack my gym clothes).
At lunch I head to CSUF with the intentions of changing my name and address (aka updating my records since I graduated 4 years ago (holy crap!). I arrive at CSUF and find that all of the visitor parking spots have been eliminated due to the construction of the SECOND parking structure. I pull up to the drive-up visitors booth and ask where there is visitors parking. The girl tells me that there isn't any and I'll need to park in the parking structure that is on the opposite side of the campus from where I need to go. As a law abiding citizen who fears the CSUF police, I circle for 10 minutes because it's virtually impossible to make a legal u-turn within a 5 mile radius of the campus. I look at the clock and realize that with the 10 minute walk to and from the building I need to visit (in heels mind you), this will surely take another 30 minutes at a minimum and I just can't take an extended lunch today since I was already late and need to leave on time to meet LAT2. Defeated, I head back to the office vowing to try again tomorrow.
At 5:00 I begin to panic as I realize that I still have 40 emails in my Inbox and I need to leave soon. I leave and contemplate skipping my training session as I really don't want to deal with a butt kicking. I decide to suck it up and go, as Jenn 2007 does not flake on working out. I get to the gym and realize that I don't have a towel or water bottle (the result of not having the alarm clock go off). Again, I contemplate just jumping on the elliptical for 20 minutes and heading home. Again, I suck it up and go find LAT2.
LAT2 totally rocked my world. He's big on core training and that makes this former dancer very happy. He made me do stuff that was challenging, yet didn't bore me to tears or seem unnatural. Bonus was that he had me do stuff on the big balls, which I've secretly been dying to "play" with - I'm a dork, this I know. I even asked for his card so that I could call him when I get in a rut and want to pay for more sessions. (I'm committed, remember?)
I leave the gym feeling very proud of myself and decide that I've "earned" a vanilla cone from McD's (which actually isn't bad for you!). Of course the 2 rather large people are in the drive-thru and I still can't find a stealth way of getting a photo. I will work on it and if anyone has any ideas please let me know.
I wake up, it's 6:20 AM. Two problems: 1) my alarm clock did NOT wake me, 2) I'm supposed to leave my house no later than 6:15 AM to get to work by 8:00 (yes I live in the middle of nowhere). Faced with the decision to shower or not, I rationalize that I'm going to be late regardless, so I might as well take the extra 10 minutes and shower (and pack my gym clothes).
At lunch I head to CSUF with the intentions of changing my name and address (aka updating my records since I graduated 4 years ago (holy crap!). I arrive at CSUF and find that all of the visitor parking spots have been eliminated due to the construction of the SECOND parking structure. I pull up to the drive-up visitors booth and ask where there is visitors parking. The girl tells me that there isn't any and I'll need to park in the parking structure that is on the opposite side of the campus from where I need to go. As a law abiding citizen who fears the CSUF police, I circle for 10 minutes because it's virtually impossible to make a legal u-turn within a 5 mile radius of the campus. I look at the clock and realize that with the 10 minute walk to and from the building I need to visit (in heels mind you), this will surely take another 30 minutes at a minimum and I just can't take an extended lunch today since I was already late and need to leave on time to meet LAT2. Defeated, I head back to the office vowing to try again tomorrow.
At 5:00 I begin to panic as I realize that I still have 40 emails in my Inbox and I need to leave soon.
LAT2 totally rocked my world. He's big on core training and that makes this former dancer very happy. He made me do stuff that was challenging, yet didn't bore me to tears or seem unnatural. Bonus was that he had me do stuff on the big balls, which I've secretly been dying to "play" with - I'm a dork, this I know. I even asked for his card so that I could call him when I get in a rut and want to pay for more sessions. (I'm committed, remember?)
I leave the gym feeling very proud of myself and decide that I've "earned" a vanilla cone from McD's (which actually isn't bad for you!). Of course the 2 rather large people are in the drive-thru and I still can't find a stealth way of getting a photo. I will work on it and if anyone has any ideas please let me know.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
This one is for Margot...Trip to Wal-Mart
I've become a snob and I admit it. However, I was born to former white-trash parents, so like Margot, it's in my blood.
I've been procrastinating in sewing the sashes for the Koenigsball because my little heart just isn't in it. I'm down to the 11th hour so to speak as the ball is next weekend. I (of course) wait until 7:00 on Sunday night to bust out the sewing machine and sashes.
Alas, the metal foot (that is absolutely necessay to using the machine) is MIA. I vaguely recall seeing it (separate from the machine of course) last weekend when I cleaned out the closet in the guest bedroom. I remember that I put it in a "safe place". It's in such a safe place, that after tearing my guest bedroom apart, I cannot find it.
I make a vain attempt to see if Wal-Mart carries the replacement feet. (I know it's possible to buy them separately, just few places are open after 7:00 on Sunday.) Wal-Mart's website is as icky as the store. I decide I'll just drive down to the Wal-Mart in Perris. I'm wearing gaucho pants and a CSUF Alumni t-shirt. I throw on some flip flops and decide that I'm appropriately dressed for an excursion to Wal-Mart.
I park near the entrance to the garden center because I consider this to be my secret bat cave entrance. The lines at the front of Wal-Mart are always way to long and the garden center line is usually tolerable. I head off to the sewing section and look in vain for the replacement foot that I know exists. http://www.singerco.com/accessories/presser_line.html?singerco_product_id=1337
Since Wal-Mart does not carry the replacement feet I am faced with a dilemma with 2 quick solutions: 1) go to jo-ann fabric tomorrow and get a replacement foot. 2) buy a cheap machine, "borrow" the foot, then return it. Which option do you think I chose?
Coming soon...Returning a sewing machine to Wal-Mart
Question for you (my readers):
Which part of this story makes me the most white-trash?
I've been procrastinating in sewing the sashes for the Koenigsball because my little heart just isn't in it. I'm down to the 11th hour so to speak as the ball is next weekend. I (of course) wait until 7:00 on Sunday night to bust out the sewing machine and sashes.
Alas, the metal foot (that is absolutely necessay to using the machine) is MIA. I vaguely recall seeing it (separate from the machine of course) last weekend when I cleaned out the closet in the guest bedroom. I remember that I put it in a "safe place". It's in such a safe place, that after tearing my guest bedroom apart, I cannot find it.
I make a vain attempt to see if Wal-Mart carries the replacement feet. (I know it's possible to buy them separately, just few places are open after 7:00 on Sunday.) Wal-Mart's website is as icky as the store. I decide I'll just drive down to the Wal-Mart in Perris. I'm wearing gaucho pants and a CSUF Alumni t-shirt. I throw on some flip flops and decide that I'm appropriately dressed for an excursion to Wal-Mart.
I park near the entrance to the garden center because I consider this to be my secret bat cave entrance. The lines at the front of Wal-Mart are always way to long and the garden center line is usually tolerable. I head off to the sewing section and look in vain for the replacement foot that I know exists. http://www.singerco.com/accessories/presser_line.html?singerco_product_id=1337
Since Wal-Mart does not carry the replacement feet I am faced with a dilemma with 2 quick solutions: 1) go to jo-ann fabric tomorrow and get a replacement foot. 2) buy a cheap machine, "borrow" the foot, then return it. Which option do you think I chose?
Coming soon...Returning a sewing machine to Wal-Mart
Question for you (my readers):
Which part of this story makes me the most white-trash?
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Saturday Update
Last night I worked until 7 and then went to the gym on my way home...how's that for dedication? Happily I was able to keep the RPMs on the bike above 90 for the duration of my ride (the first 15 minutes of Nanny 911), then I walked on the treadmill at a pretty good incline for 10 minutes, then crunches until my sides and tummy about caught on fire they were burning so bad. Then I thought I'd give the elliptical a ride since I couldn't find the machine Matt's mom calls "The Nasty" (she's the wonderful woman who wears bike shorts under her skirts so her thighs don't rub together). Gleefully I found that I was able to survive much longer than I did the prior Friday. LAT has clearly done his job. I'm down a size in jeans and I had to buy new workout pants because my initial batch have started to slide down while I work out (and I'm not trying to show off my underwear).
Funny story...my aunt (who is both blonde AND left-handed) stops to get gas today in her fairly new car with both my uncle and my mom in the car with her. They pull up to the pump so that it is on the driver's side (normal for most cars, but not this one). My uncle reminds her that the tank is on the other side, so what does she do? Turn the car around? Well sort of, she flips a u-turn around the island and pulls up to the other side of the same pump, still on the driver's side of the car. I wish I had a visual...hopefully that made sense.
We went and cancelled the purchasing agreement of the "new" house today. I also found a bunch of furniture at Pier 1 that we'll be going to buy tomorrow. I'll be posting a lot of the hand-me-downs and Ikea stuff on Craigs List tonight/tomorrow as well. I'm going to "re-decorate" pretty much every room. We've only been there 2 years, but it was all decorated for the most part with a bunch of cheap stuff in sort of a hodge-podge of styles. Everything is going to be shades of blue and brown...except for our master bath which I painted gray(currently with black rugs that allow my cat to camoflauge)....that will be gray and navy. I've kicked/stepped on the cat so many times that I just can't keep the black rugs anymore.
Funny story...my aunt (who is both blonde AND left-handed) stops to get gas today in her fairly new car with both my uncle and my mom in the car with her. They pull up to the pump so that it is on the driver's side (normal for most cars, but not this one). My uncle reminds her that the tank is on the other side, so what does she do? Turn the car around? Well sort of, she flips a u-turn around the island and pulls up to the other side of the same pump, still on the driver's side of the car. I wish I had a visual...hopefully that made sense.
We went and cancelled the purchasing agreement of the "new" house today. I also found a bunch of furniture at Pier 1 that we'll be going to buy tomorrow. I'll be posting a lot of the hand-me-downs and Ikea stuff on Craigs List tonight/tomorrow as well. I'm going to "re-decorate" pretty much every room. We've only been there 2 years, but it was all decorated for the most part with a bunch of cheap stuff in sort of a hodge-podge of styles. Everything is going to be shades of blue and brown...except for our master bath which I painted gray(currently with black rugs that allow my cat to camoflauge)....that will be gray and navy. I've kicked/stepped on the cat so many times that I just can't keep the black rugs anymore.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Session 4 complete!
LAT completed my session tonight by telling me that this was his last week as he was going to Georgia to play football (he's a kicker if I haven't mentioned that before). A bit of a shocker...I was saddened by this news???
LAT kicked my butt as usual and I almost think I like it in a sick and twisted way...bonus - one of the exercises he made me do was featured on Beauty & the Geek. I actually felt confident and enjoyed the torture. LAT and I bonded and I secretly thought that maybe he did know what he was doing after all as I'd survived. I did admit to him that I wouldn't have worked as hard as I did as fast.
I meet with LAT2 next Monday for my last session. I'm kinda sad in a way, but interested in seeing how he decides to kick my rear.
I love www.dietfacts.com (thanks Rach) and am addicted to checking the nutritional value for every possible lunch option. I also enjoy sharing the disgusting facts with others. There are somethings I'm not sure I will ever be able to eat again.
***AI note - Simon Cowell said "That was Easy" in reference to the decision on a girl named Jory.
LAT kicked my butt as usual and I almost think I like it in a sick and twisted way...bonus - one of the exercises he made me do was featured on Beauty & the Geek. I actually felt confident and enjoyed the torture. LAT and I bonded and I secretly thought that maybe he did know what he was doing after all as I'd survived. I did admit to him that I wouldn't have worked as hard as I did as fast.
I meet with LAT2 next Monday for my last session. I'm kinda sad in a way, but interested in seeing how he decides to kick my rear.
I love www.dietfacts.com (thanks Rach) and am addicted to checking the nutritional value for every possible lunch option. I also enjoy sharing the disgusting facts with others. There are somethings I'm not sure I will ever be able to eat again.
***AI note - Simon Cowell said "That was Easy" in reference to the decision on a girl named Jory.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
AI Highlights
Besides Sundance Head - who was actually good - I wonder if he knows my former customer Neil Goodhead? - this is my favorite quote from tonights audition episode:
"It works with my confidentiality - it boostes my confidence."
"It works with my confidentiality - it boostes my confidence."
Is there any hope for me? 1/22
Session 3 with LAT is complete...but more on that in a minute...
There's this girl at work, Rachel, whom I absolutely love and adore. She sucks at reading my blogs, but we are both absolutely ADDICTED to her sister Kim's blogs. (Not really Rach's fault...the email police at work blocked MySpace, but Kim uses blogspot). It's become quite an obsession for many in the land...check it out and enjoy: http://kim1champ.blogspot.com/
Anyhow, Kim is EXTREMELY dedicated to her blogs which is why they are so good...there's often photos for each topic. A recent topic was on the amount of paper towel that was dispensed with one wave in front of the automatic paper towel dispensers commonly found in public restrooms. I found myself in the bathroom at Cerritos Lanes last Thursday after bowling staring at the automatic paper towel dispenser. I waved and I got significantly more paper towel dispensed than Kim did in her photo. I stood there staring, hands dripping...what to do? I looked around the restroom to ensure it was empty and whipped out my camera phone and snapped a photo, which I promptly text messaged to Rach. Hence, the follow up blog Kim wrote yesterday which included my photo...I feel famous!
Anyhow, I digress. After 4.5 people called in sick today (one person worked half a day) I needed to escape the office for lunch. Enter good lunch buddy Rach who needed to go buy new soccer cleats. I know nothing about soccer, much less soccer cleats, but it got me out of the office. After successfully getting cleats (she wouldn't get the gold ones...I can't imagine why) we decided on Chik-fil-A. I order the grilled chicken sandwich on a wheat bun with a fruit cup instead of fries. What is on the tray the put in front of me? grilled chicken sandwich and fries. Clearly the Chik-fil-A people hate me. I'm good, I tell the girl at the register (who isn't the person that brought the tray) that I ordered the fruit cup. She calls over her shoulder that we needed a fruit cup and not fries. She generously offers to let me have both fries and fruit cup since they are just going to throw the fries away. I say ok, I was going to steal one of Rach's anyway, so I decided to let skinny little Rach eat all of her fries :) In one of my more proud moments, I eat the fruit cup, then the sandwich, and then exactly 4 fries. Of course I chose the 4 largest fries, but I ate only 4 fries, so that counts right?
I go to the gym with LAT. I tell him that under no circumstances will I do a repeat of last week since I couldn't walk for 2 days. He thinks I'm kidding, he quickly realizes I'm serious when I refuse to do squats. Thankfully we compromise and I think he begins to understand what seems most natural to my body - dance moves, not anything to "sporty". I stop myself before anything gets to the point of excruciating...I learned my lesson last week...LAT will let me kill myself if I don't stop first.
I leave the gym feeling proud that I stuck with it even though I wanted to murder LAT last week. I even plan to go back on Wednesday as scheduled. To be continued...
There's this girl at work, Rachel, whom I absolutely love and adore. She sucks at reading my blogs, but we are both absolutely ADDICTED to her sister Kim's blogs. (Not really Rach's fault...the email police at work blocked MySpace, but Kim uses blogspot). It's become quite an obsession for many in the land...check it out and enjoy: http://kim1champ.blogspot.com/
Anyhow, Kim is EXTREMELY dedicated to her blogs which is why they are so good...there's often photos for each topic. A recent topic was on the amount of paper towel that was dispensed with one wave in front of the automatic paper towel dispensers commonly found in public restrooms. I found myself in the bathroom at Cerritos Lanes last Thursday after bowling staring at the automatic paper towel dispenser. I waved and I got significantly more paper towel dispensed than Kim did in her photo. I stood there staring, hands dripping...what to do? I looked around the restroom to ensure it was empty and whipped out my camera phone and snapped a photo, which I promptly text messaged to Rach. Hence, the follow up blog Kim wrote yesterday which included my photo...I feel famous!
Anyhow, I digress. After 4.5 people called in sick today (one person worked half a day) I needed to escape the office for lunch. Enter good lunch buddy Rach who needed to go buy new soccer cleats. I know nothing about soccer, much less soccer cleats, but it got me out of the office. After successfully getting cleats (she wouldn't get the gold ones...I can't imagine why) we decided on Chik-fil-A. I order the grilled chicken sandwich on a wheat bun with a fruit cup instead of fries. What is on the tray the put in front of me? grilled chicken sandwich and fries. Clearly the Chik-fil-A people hate me. I'm good, I tell the girl at the register (who isn't the person that brought the tray) that I ordered the fruit cup. She calls over her shoulder that we needed a fruit cup and not fries. She generously offers to let me have both fries and fruit cup since they are just going to throw the fries away. I say ok, I was going to steal one of Rach's anyway, so I decided to let skinny little Rach eat all of her fries :) In one of my more proud moments, I eat the fruit cup, then the sandwich, and then exactly 4 fries. Of course I chose the 4 largest fries, but I ate only 4 fries, so that counts right?
I go to the gym with LAT. I tell him that under no circumstances will I do a repeat of last week since I couldn't walk for 2 days. He thinks I'm kidding, he quickly realizes I'm serious when I refuse to do squats. Thankfully we compromise and I think he begins to understand what seems most natural to my body - dance moves, not anything to "sporty". I stop myself before anything gets to the point of excruciating...I learned my lesson last week...LAT will let me kill myself if I don't stop first.
I leave the gym feeling proud that I stuck with it even though I wanted to murder LAT last week. I even plan to go back on Wednesday as scheduled. To be continued...
I knew it! 1/21
I have waited to write this on purpose to absolutely prove that my trainer deserves a lashing tomorrow.
I went to the gym Friday night, after working until 6 (how's that for dedication?). I did 30 minutes on the bike, crunches for as many as I could bear, and then long enough on the elliptical to burn as many calories as I did on the bike (far less time, but I figured that was a fair amount of time). I left feeling rather proud of myself and felt that was a decent workout.
I woke up Saturday - NOT sore! Went walking with my mom and aunt again and did some stuff on my aunt's machine. It's one of those all in one things where you just sit there but can do a million different things with the weights. I think I love it! Woke up Sunday - NOT sore...well a tiny bit from the machine stuff, but NOTHING like last week. We're going walking again today.
I'm going to rip my trainer's head off tomorrow and tell him what I want him to show me.
I'm dedicated enough that I don't need him to kick my ass. Especially since that meant he crippled me for 2 days last week and I had to work out all weekend. I'd much rather take the weekends off and work out all week. I think I'm going to cancel my second session this week and make it for a few weeks from now in the event I start slacking.
Everyone keeps asking me how much weight I've lost and I don't know because I'm not weighing myself. I weighed 208 when I got weighed at the gym a few weeks ago and no one could believe I weighed that much. I just care about how I look and how I feel. I have noticed my pants being a little loose despite Will washing them, so I'll take that as a sign of progress.
I went to the gym Friday night, after working until 6 (how's that for dedication?). I did 30 minutes on the bike, crunches for as many as I could bear, and then long enough on the elliptical to burn as many calories as I did on the bike (far less time, but I figured that was a fair amount of time). I left feeling rather proud of myself and felt that was a decent workout.
I woke up Saturday - NOT sore! Went walking with my mom and aunt again and did some stuff on my aunt's machine. It's one of those all in one things where you just sit there but can do a million different things with the weights. I think I love it! Woke up Sunday - NOT sore...well a tiny bit from the machine stuff, but NOTHING like last week. We're going walking again today.
I'm going to rip my trainer's head off tomorrow and tell him what I want him to show me.
I'm dedicated enough that I don't need him to kick my ass. Especially since that meant he crippled me for 2 days last week and I had to work out all weekend. I'd much rather take the weekends off and work out all week. I think I'm going to cancel my second session this week and make it for a few weeks from now in the event I start slacking.
Everyone keeps asking me how much weight I've lost and I don't know because I'm not weighing myself. I weighed 208 when I got weighed at the gym a few weeks ago and no one could believe I weighed that much. I just care about how I look and how I feel. I have noticed my pants being a little loose despite Will washing them, so I'll take that as a sign of progress.
My kitten is making my dog stupid 1/17
It's not news that my kitten is missing a few marbles. He gets lost from time to time (remember he's an indoor cat) and generally does stupid crap all the time. He is rather fond of TV and we often catch him watching various shows...we think Idol is his new favorite.
My dog is very intelligent. He has a fairly extensive vocabulary - his favorite words are: go, outside, bye-bye, sleepies, Molly, and treat. Like Pavlov's dog, turning off the TV at night causes him to jump off the couch and run to the bedroom for "sleepies time". The sound of the trash can being emptied in the kitchen causes him to run to the back door to go "outside". Seeing me put on shoes sends him into panic mode in fear that I might leave him, unless he hears he jingle of the dog tags on his collar and then he becomes excited, like a kid at Christmas, because he knows he gets to "go" with mommy...and usually that means he gets to see "Molly". I know it's not rocket science, but for a dog that is roughly the size of a short cat, I'm impressed.
Ever since we got Felix (the kitten) 8 or 9 months ago, I've become concerned that Oskar (the dog) isn't quite as brilliant as I thought he was. For example, I fell asleep on the couch last night. Will (the husband) knows better than to wake me once I've fallen asleep so I slept there. Oskar of course slept on the couch with me because he absolutely HAS to touch me at all times while we sleep. Felix went to bed with Daddy because he ABSOLUTELY loves to sleep at the foot of my side of the bed. (Do the math - that's me, the kitten, AND the dog on my half of the bed - thank goodness it's a Cal King). Anyhow, at about 3:30 AM the dog starts barking at something. Oskar is 10 pounds, not much of a guard dog, but he sounds bigger than he is and started "protecting" us after spending a good amount of time with Molly (the beagle that barks at EVERYTHING). I obviously look to see what creature is threatening me and see the kitten sitting in the hallway. Oskar continues to bark his head off until Will and I get up and each pick up a "Furry" and head to the bedroom. But the stupidity doesn't stop there. Tonight, I'm sitting on the couch blogging about my quads and Will is cooking dinner when Oskar starts barking again. I look up and he is sitting on the hearth of the fireplace looking straight at his reflection in the glass, barking.He's lucky I love him!!
My dog is very intelligent. He has a fairly extensive vocabulary - his favorite words are: go, outside, bye-bye, sleepies, Molly, and treat. Like Pavlov's dog, turning off the TV at night causes him to jump off the couch and run to the bedroom for "sleepies time". The sound of the trash can being emptied in the kitchen causes him to run to the back door to go "outside". Seeing me put on shoes sends him into panic mode in fear that I might leave him, unless he hears he jingle of the dog tags on his collar and then he becomes excited, like a kid at Christmas, because he knows he gets to "go" with mommy...and usually that means he gets to see "Molly". I know it's not rocket science, but for a dog that is roughly the size of a short cat, I'm impressed.
Ever since we got Felix (the kitten) 8 or 9 months ago, I've become concerned that Oskar (the dog) isn't quite as brilliant as I thought he was. For example, I fell asleep on the couch last night. Will (the husband) knows better than to wake me once I've fallen asleep so I slept there. Oskar of course slept on the couch with me because he absolutely HAS to touch me at all times while we sleep. Felix went to bed with Daddy because he ABSOLUTELY loves to sleep at the foot of my side of the bed. (Do the math - that's me, the kitten, AND the dog on my half of the bed - thank goodness it's a Cal King). Anyhow, at about 3:30 AM the dog starts barking at something. Oskar is 10 pounds, not much of a guard dog, but he sounds bigger than he is and started "protecting" us after spending a good amount of time with Molly (the beagle that barks at EVERYTHING). I obviously look to see what creature is threatening me and see the kitten sitting in the hallway. Oskar continues to bark his head off until Will and I get up and each pick up a "Furry" and head to the bedroom. But the stupidity doesn't stop there. Tonight, I'm sitting on the couch blogging about my quads and Will is cooking dinner when Oskar starts barking again. I look up and he is sitting on the hearth of the fireplace looking straight at his reflection in the glass, barking.He's lucky I love him!!
Update 1/17
2 days after the hour from hell with LAT and I still can't hardly move. I feel excruciating pain in my quads whenever I put any weight on them and force them to flex. In other words, if I'm sitting on my butt I feel fine. Definitely NOT what I was looking for.
I'm going to do crunches and some pilates stuff during the commercials of American Idol tonight. I bowl tomorrow night (hopefully I can...you do need your legs to bowl). Hopefully I am able to work out on Friday.
I'm going to do crunches and some pilates stuff during the commercials of American Idol tonight. I bowl tomorrow night (hopefully I can...you do need your legs to bowl). Hopefully I am able to work out on Friday.
Trainer - Session 2 1/15
First, I'd like to thank Bianka and McDonalds for helping me get home tonight without slipping towards the light. Were it not for Bianka's conversation and bottled Dasani and a Fruit and Walnut Salad, I'd probably be slumped over on the side of the 91 wondering if my heart was ever going to stop pounding or if I'd ever stop gasping for breath. Does that give you any idea how Session 2 went?
Session 1 and my dedication over the last week lured me into a false sense of security. I'd survived walk #2 with mom without feeling that I would die so I thought I was adequately prepared for Session 2. I even made the mistake of telling my Asian, football playing trainer that I wanted to hurt tomorrow. Apparently, he thought that meant that he should work me until I was hurting TONIGHT! I'm stubborn, everyone knows that. I absolutely refuse to fail. I always go above and beyond the minimum expectation - tonight I underachieved.
On the agenda after a little warm up was basic push ups, lunges, and various other exercises involving nothing more than a pair of 5 lb dumbbells. Sounds easy enough right? WRONG!! The # of reps was FAR greater than the cute little numbers that were on my "workout plan". I remember seeing the #12, I suffered through the first set of 20 reps. I was granted a water break...when I returned I think Little Asian Trainer was a bit concerned that he might kill the obese 25 year old so he shorted the reps to 12. I think I made it half way thru each of the components. I rocked the crunches (never would have guessed that one - have you seen my stomach?!), rowing, and curls while standing on one foot. I about died doing the pushups, mountain climber, and evil hold where I was in the guy version of a pushup but not moving, just holding. I was granted water break #2. Set 3 was a disaster, LAT sort of gave up on me and gave me a smaller set when I would collapse. I think he seriously thought I was going to pass out because he kept asking me if I was okay every 10 seconds - that was ANNOYING!!!
In true Jenn fashion, I didn't cry. I thought about the cruel injustice of having to watch my fat jiggle in the mirror as I did jumping lunges (no I will not demonstrate!) and pondered whether I would, in fact, get black eyes from my boobs (that must have been the reason LAT stayed a safe distance off to the side). Finally we were done trying to make my body do things that inched me closer to death by the second and went downstairs to the bikes. I say downstairs while thinking to myself "THANK GOD IT'S DOWN AND NOT UP!". As it was, I had to hold on the to railing so as not to tumble down the stairs.
Interval training. I've been riding the bike for 20-30 minutes almost every time I've gone to the gym. LAT wanted me to ride for 20 minutes while varying my speed and resistance while trying to keep my heart rate low enough so that I wouldn't have a heart attack. I last approximately 4 minutes before a massive cramp took over my right quadricep. The very same quadricep he had observed last week that was attached to my hip with a very short/tight ligament (or something like that - hey I haven't taken anatomy yet). I stopped. LAT made me stretch. Then he said we were done. I felt that I had failed. He repeatedly suggested that I get a bottle of water on my way home and eat a good dinner when I got there so that my body could recover.
Feeling like a cripple I staggered back to the locker room to get my stuff. I stumbled to my car, cursing the fact that it was approximately 50 degrees outside and that I had had to park almost in front of Lowes because the gym was so crowded with all of the new years resolution band wagon jumpers. Two things: 1) For those of you who have never gone to 24HF in Anahem/Fullerton, it's off of Lemon and the 91(northeast side) - check out the distance between 24HF and Lowes and you'll feel my pain 2) I realize that I technically fall under the NYR band wagon jumper category, however...much like the January 2 years ago when I stopped drinking soda pretty much permanently, it's a lifestyle change, not a NYR. When all of the other schmucks stop going, I'm going to continue working out and eating better. But I digress...
I went to McDonalds after stumbling to my car (drive-thru of course) and ordered 2 bottles of Dasani and a Fruit and Walnut salad. Why is it that the McDonalds in the EXACT same parking lot as 24 Hour Fitness has two of the largest people I've ever seen actually employed working the drive thru? There's got to be some sort of correlation there. I'm not being mean, it's just that I swear 24HF had to plant them there to make people feel guilty enough to join the gym. One day when I'm skinny, I'm going to sit in the parking lot right in front of the front door of 24HF and eat a Big Mac. Until then, I will continue to allow LAT to torment me (I'm going again next Monday - I'm a glutton for punishment - this is not anything new), I will enjoy my new favorite item at McDonalds, and resist the urge to surrender when I can't get out of bed tomorrow morning.
If the pain I'm in right now is any indication, I 100% understand why Rach's sister, Kim, had exactly 1 session with a personal trainer. As I was pulling into my driveway after my hour long drive home, I thought, "I don't feel so bad, I was just being a wimp. I should have sucked it up and done more." Then I opened my car door and got out and about fell on the garage floor. I contemplated leaving everything in the car and crawling to the door and down my long hallway to my couch, but I didn't want to make my loving husband (who was already cooking me dinner) to have to go back out into the refrigerated garage to clean out my car. I grabbed my stuff, fell through the door, about fell onto my stupid cat, and stumbled to the couch where Will promptly brought me dinner and my laptop to document the experience. I LOVE HIM!!!!
Session 1 and my dedication over the last week lured me into a false sense of security. I'd survived walk #2 with mom without feeling that I would die so I thought I was adequately prepared for Session 2. I even made the mistake of telling my Asian, football playing trainer that I wanted to hurt tomorrow. Apparently, he thought that meant that he should work me until I was hurting TONIGHT! I'm stubborn, everyone knows that. I absolutely refuse to fail. I always go above and beyond the minimum expectation - tonight I underachieved.
On the agenda after a little warm up was basic push ups, lunges, and various other exercises involving nothing more than a pair of 5 lb dumbbells. Sounds easy enough right? WRONG!! The # of reps was FAR greater than the cute little numbers that were on my "workout plan". I remember seeing the #12, I suffered through the first set of 20 reps. I was granted a water break...when I returned I think Little Asian Trainer was a bit concerned that he might kill the obese 25 year old so he shorted the reps to 12. I think I made it half way thru each of the components. I rocked the crunches (never would have guessed that one - have you seen my stomach?!), rowing, and curls while standing on one foot. I about died doing the pushups, mountain climber, and evil hold where I was in the guy version of a pushup but not moving, just holding. I was granted water break #2. Set 3 was a disaster, LAT sort of gave up on me and gave me a smaller set when I would collapse. I think he seriously thought I was going to pass out because he kept asking me if I was okay every 10 seconds - that was ANNOYING!!!
In true Jenn fashion, I didn't cry. I thought about the cruel injustice of having to watch my fat jiggle in the mirror as I did jumping lunges (no I will not demonstrate!) and pondered whether I would, in fact, get black eyes from my boobs (that must have been the reason LAT stayed a safe distance off to the side). Finally we were done trying to make my body do things that inched me closer to death by the second and went downstairs to the bikes. I say downstairs while thinking to myself "THANK GOD IT'S DOWN AND NOT UP!". As it was, I had to hold on the to railing so as not to tumble down the stairs.
Interval training. I've been riding the bike for 20-30 minutes almost every time I've gone to the gym. LAT wanted me to ride for 20 minutes while varying my speed and resistance while trying to keep my heart rate low enough so that I wouldn't have a heart attack. I last approximately 4 minutes before a massive cramp took over my right quadricep. The very same quadricep he had observed last week that was attached to my hip with a very short/tight ligament (or something like that - hey I haven't taken anatomy yet). I stopped. LAT made me stretch. Then he said we were done. I felt that I had failed. He repeatedly suggested that I get a bottle of water on my way home and eat a good dinner when I got there so that my body could recover.
Feeling like a cripple I staggered back to the locker room to get my stuff. I stumbled to my car, cursing the fact that it was approximately 50 degrees outside and that I had had to park almost in front of Lowes because the gym was so crowded with all of the new years resolution band wagon jumpers. Two things: 1) For those of you who have never gone to 24HF in Anahem/Fullerton, it's off of Lemon and the 91(northeast side) - check out the distance between 24HF and Lowes and you'll feel my pain 2) I realize that I technically fall under the NYR band wagon jumper category, however...much like the January 2 years ago when I stopped drinking soda pretty much permanently, it's a lifestyle change, not a NYR. When all of the other schmucks stop going, I'm going to continue working out and eating better. But I digress...
I went to McDonalds after stumbling to my car (drive-thru of course) and ordered 2 bottles of Dasani and a Fruit and Walnut salad. Why is it that the McDonalds in the EXACT same parking lot as 24 Hour Fitness has two of the largest people I've ever seen actually employed working the drive thru? There's got to be some sort of correlation there. I'm not being mean, it's just that I swear 24HF had to plant them there to make people feel guilty enough to join the gym. One day when I'm skinny, I'm going to sit in the parking lot right in front of the front door of 24HF and eat a Big Mac. Until then, I will continue to allow LAT to torment me (I'm going again next Monday - I'm a glutton for punishment - this is not anything new), I will enjoy my new favorite item at McDonalds, and resist the urge to surrender when I can't get out of bed tomorrow morning.
If the pain I'm in right now is any indication, I 100% understand why Rach's sister, Kim, had exactly 1 session with a personal trainer. As I was pulling into my driveway after my hour long drive home, I thought, "I don't feel so bad, I was just being a wimp. I should have sucked it up and done more." Then I opened my car door and got out and about fell on the garage floor. I contemplated leaving everything in the car and crawling to the door and down my long hallway to my couch, but I didn't want to make my loving husband (who was already cooking me dinner) to have to go back out into the refrigerated garage to clean out my car. I grabbed my stuff, fell through the door, about fell onto my stupid cat, and stumbled to the couch where Will promptly brought me dinner and my laptop to document the experience. I LOVE HIM!!!!
Week 1 1/8
I went to 24 Hour Fitness and got a membership January 2nd (last Tuesday) like probably thousands of other Americans. The strain of having to do calculations in my head to ensure I was getting the best deal was enough exercise for one day, so I went home. I wasn't actually prepared to work out that day :) Besides, my 5 sessions with a personal trainer were going to kick my butt into shape and I still had a week before my first session.
Wednesday, I go to the gym for day #1...25 minutes and 5 miles on the stationary bike later, I'm feeling confident that I can do this.
Thursday is bowling and Friday is the day from hell at work, so no gym. I've been eating less in an effort to shrink my stomach so I'm not starving all the time when the trainer gives me my meal plan.
Matt's joining me in the effort to lose weight (could be because I -affectionately- refer to him as "Tubby") and has become one of my "food nazis". Judy Hsu is my other "food nazi". She did such a good job making Janine feel guilty that I know she'll always tell me not to eat whatever it is I'm asking if I can eat. :)
I'm doing pretty well until Friday at about 5:30. I'm still at work as are Les and Matt. At that point I was willing to kill for a Miguel's Jr. bean and cheese burrito! If you've never had a MJB&CB you are missing out. I ask my food nazi what I can eat at Jack in the box on my way home since I know there's no way in hell I'm going to make it all the way home without eating. I know that the only way to prevent myself from eating at Miguel's is to eat before I get to Corona. My food nazi and Les confirm that a taco at JITB isn't that bad for you...who knew?!
At 6:30, I'm dying!!! I'm STARVING and I NEED FOOD!!! Matt says that he'll go make us chicken breasts for dinner. Desparate for food I accept the offer for a plain chicken breast cooked in the microwave. He brings it to me piping hot and I'm unable to determine why it's an odd texture until I'm almost finished devouring it. What I originally thought was a result of microwaving the piece of meat, was actually the result of it being some weird protein or soy concoction. I was so hungry I didn't even care (SO not like me!) I leave work around 7:15 and go to JITB to get my tacos...HEAVEN!!!
Saturday, my mom and aunt suggest that I go walking with them instead of going to the gym. I figure "what the heck? why not? I'm planning on taking it fairly slow until I meet with the trainer. OMG I THINK MY MOM AND AUNT WERE TRYING TO KILL ME!!! My mom is 52, my aunt 46. I've walked with them before and was able to run circles around them. Then we start off on their daily walk (they have been walking daily since last April) and I suspect this might be more difficult than anticipated when mom won't commit to the duration and she mentions she takes 2-3 breaks while my aunt circles the end of the cul-de-sacs. I begin to get winded somewhere around mile 2...I figure we're almost done so it's good timing. Then...we take a turn and continue walking. I refuse to complain since these are old women, but I'm huffing and puffing. After 3.5 miles we finally get back to my aunt's house where I collapse, face down, on her living room floor.
Sunday I wake up not wanting to move. Most of the pain is in my ass, not much of a surprise since I sit on it almost constantly. No gym or exercise Sunday.
Monday, my original plan is to just work my upper body since my butt still sort of hurts and tomorrow I meet with the trainer. But I've been eyeing the Dancers Workout Class and it gives me a great excuse to leave work at exactly 5:00 to make it on time. (CJB is in town and I've yet to hear from him directly since he left our office in September). I get to the Mo Val 24HF and spend 15 minutes on the bike warming up before the class. The class is only 30 minutes long...how bad can it be? (I used to suffer through 8+ hours of ballet in my Color Guard days.) I'm dying throughout the class. All of the muscles that have been on vacation for the last 8 years were screaming at me throughout the class. IT WAS TOTALLY AWESOME and I will definitely go back, but I'm already sore and I don't meet the trainer until tomorrow...wish me luck!
Wednesday, I go to the gym for day #1...25 minutes and 5 miles on the stationary bike later, I'm feeling confident that I can do this.
Thursday is bowling and Friday is the day from hell at work, so no gym. I've been eating less in an effort to shrink my stomach so I'm not starving all the time when the trainer gives me my meal plan.
Matt's joining me in the effort to lose weight (could be because I -affectionately- refer to him as "Tubby") and has become one of my "food nazis". Judy Hsu is my other "food nazi". She did such a good job making Janine feel guilty that I know she'll always tell me not to eat whatever it is I'm asking if I can eat. :)
I'm doing pretty well until Friday at about 5:30. I'm still at work as are Les and Matt. At that point I was willing to kill for a Miguel's Jr. bean and cheese burrito! If you've never had a MJB&CB you are missing out. I ask my food nazi what I can eat at Jack in the box on my way home since I know there's no way in hell I'm going to make it all the way home without eating. I know that the only way to prevent myself from eating at Miguel's is to eat before I get to Corona. My food nazi and Les confirm that a taco at JITB isn't that bad for you...who knew?!
At 6:30, I'm dying!!! I'm STARVING and I NEED FOOD!!! Matt says that he'll go make us chicken breasts for dinner. Desparate for food I accept the offer for a plain chicken breast cooked in the microwave. He brings it to me piping hot and I'm unable to determine why it's an odd texture until I'm almost finished devouring it. What I originally thought was a result of microwaving the piece of meat, was actually the result of it being some weird protein or soy concoction. I was so hungry I didn't even care (SO not like me!) I leave work around 7:15 and go to JITB to get my tacos...HEAVEN!!!
Saturday, my mom and aunt suggest that I go walking with them instead of going to the gym. I figure "what the heck? why not? I'm planning on taking it fairly slow until I meet with the trainer. OMG I THINK MY MOM AND AUNT WERE TRYING TO KILL ME!!! My mom is 52, my aunt 46. I've walked with them before and was able to run circles around them. Then we start off on their daily walk (they have been walking daily since last April) and I suspect this might be more difficult than anticipated when mom won't commit to the duration and she mentions she takes 2-3 breaks while my aunt circles the end of the cul-de-sacs. I begin to get winded somewhere around mile 2...I figure we're almost done so it's good timing. Then...we take a turn and continue walking. I refuse to complain since these are old women, but I'm huffing and puffing. After 3.5 miles we finally get back to my aunt's house where I collapse, face down, on her living room floor.
Sunday I wake up not wanting to move. Most of the pain is in my ass, not much of a surprise since I sit on it almost constantly. No gym or exercise Sunday.
Monday, my original plan is to just work my upper body since my butt still sort of hurts and tomorrow I meet with the trainer. But I've been eyeing the Dancers Workout Class and it gives me a great excuse to leave work at exactly 5:00 to make it on time. (CJB is in town and I've yet to hear from him directly since he left our office in September). I get to the Mo Val 24HF and spend 15 minutes on the bike warming up before the class. The class is only 30 minutes long...how bad can it be? (I used to suffer through 8+ hours of ballet in my Color Guard days.) I'm dying throughout the class. All of the muscles that have been on vacation for the last 8 years were screaming at me throughout the class. IT WAS TOTALLY AWESOME and I will definitely go back, but I'm already sore and I don't meet the trainer until tomorrow...wish me luck!
I will lose my Staples weight 1/8
Whenever someone new starts at Staples, I GUARANTEE that they will gain 10 pounds within their first year. I'm pretty sure that I haven't been wrong. Those that have insisted they wouldn't EVER let it happen, later tell me that they gained 15. We aren't a bunch of fat asses, we just work insanely long hours and use our lunch hour to get out of the office and vent...usually at a fast food or sit down restaurant. In addition, we keep a nice stash of snacks in our desks in the event that we are unable to leave because of some unforeseen office supply crisis. Then there are those of us that are stress eaters. Fatty snacks last much longer and satisfy the continual need to shove food into one's face when stressed (chips, candy, caramel corn, baked goods etc.)
I've worked at Staples since 1999. The first 2 years were spent running around a retail store, so I managed to only gain about 10 pounds total during that time, despite the fact that I lived pretty much entirely on fast food as I went from working full time during the day, immediately to CSUF all night (also a full time student). Then I transferred to SBA...and the fat fest began!!! Since then I've averaged a gain of about 10 pounds a year...
I decided over Thanksgiving weekend to scan all of the old photos of my mom, sister, and I and compile them into a slideshow DVD for my mom (and me, but I get to designate it as a gift for the woman who has everything). I came across the photo that is in my photos that is clearly of a smaller and very fit me. I spent December rather depressed over my girth. I tend to be fairly good at "new year's resolutions" because I consider them lifestyle changes (I gave up soda two years ago), so I decided to join a gym in January, and thus begins this series of blogs...
I've worked at Staples since 1999. The first 2 years were spent running around a retail store, so I managed to only gain about 10 pounds total during that time, despite the fact that I lived pretty much entirely on fast food as I went from working full time during the day, immediately to CSUF all night (also a full time student). Then I transferred to SBA...and the fat fest began!!! Since then I've averaged a gain of about 10 pounds a year...
I decided over Thanksgiving weekend to scan all of the old photos of my mom, sister, and I and compile them into a slideshow DVD for my mom (and me, but I get to designate it as a gift for the woman who has everything). I came across the photo that is in my photos that is clearly of a smaller and very fit me. I spent December rather depressed over my girth. I tend to be fairly good at "new year's resolutions" because I consider them lifestyle changes (I gave up soda two years ago), so I decided to join a gym in January, and thus begins this series of blogs...
My car is possessed by the Devil 12/29
In case you didn't know, we got a Lexus IS250 in April of 2006. Will desparately wanted the car and even prepared a report containing all of the reasons that we HAD to buy it. Keep in mind that at the time we were still carpooling to and from work together. I liked the idea of Bluetooth and the iPod connection. He swore that I'd love the navigation system too. He was doing the driving so I caved and traded in my precious Accord.
It took us almost two weeks to actually get the car (the first sign of things to come). Official date we got the car April 19, 2006.
Less than a week after getting the car, we decide to stop at Carl's Jr. on the way home from dance practice. Will's driving up to the window when we hear the sound of our precious little rim grinding along the concrete of a random curve that jutts out from the side of the building for the sole purpose of ruining rims. Will is devastated, I shockingly am not (much in the same way I wasn't devastated when he lost his wedding band on our honeymoon in the ocean - it's just part of his charm :) ).
Will was travelling for work so I was driving to work by myself on May 15th in FasTrack. As I was getting on the freeway, the FasTrack transponder went flying off of the dash and ended up somewhere unreachable under the seat. I figured it wasn't a big deal, the sensor would still read the little sucker since it always managed to do so when I had attempted to hide a second transponder under the seat to avoid getting charged twice. Mind you, we had the car for less than a month and only had paper plates. I drive through the toll plaza the transponder doesn't beep and low and behold for the FIRST time in the THREE AND A HALF years I'd been driving FasTrack a CHP officer is at the toll plaza waiting for criminals like myself. Of course he pulls me over and lectures me about how the transponder should have been velcroed to the windshield and inquiring as to why I didn't yet have my plates that had been mailed out exactly 2 days earlier from Sacramento. Long story short, he let me go without ticket.
On July 19th, I'm again driving to work, this time on the 91 right past the 15 when I barely rear-end the guy in front of me. Mind you I'm working half a day, then flying out of LAX to go to Denver to do a training the next morning, only to fly back just in time for Bianka and John's rehearsal & dinner that night. I was maybe going 5-10 miles per hour so there should have been virtually zero damage thanks to the fancy bumpers that absorb impact right? WRONG. The SUV had a tow hitch that punctured my bumper. Zero damage to the car I hit, signifcant damage to my car. The alleged-legal mexican that was driving the car I hit that he didn't own, neither he or the owner had insurance. So of course I called my friends at the CHP so that little bastard that ruined my morning would at least get a ticket for not having insurance. We get the car fixed after the Sutton wedding hoopla - thank goodness for a $500 deductible - total damages: $1,200.
Literally, a few weeks AFTER we get the car back from getting repaired (sometime in late August) we are driving on the 60 when a big chunk of wood comes flying at us (Will's driving this time). He swerves to avoid it and of course the wood chunk swerves as well hitting the car in the EXACT spot we had just had repaired. We get off the freeway to survey the damage and all I can do is laugh at our misfortune. We get back on the freeway and LITERALLY within 10 minutes, a rock flies up and takes a chunk out of our windshield. Thankfully it has not yet spread. We decide that another insurance claim within a month probably isn't a good idea and figure something else will probably happen if we get it fixed. We'll just wait a year or so and then get EVERYTHING fixed all at once.
After a few quiet months I stop referring to the car as "demon possessed" and subconsciously think that the bad luck must be over.
Then December 15th comes. We have an appointment to pick out the flooring for our new house. I need to leave work early because their "evening" appointment was 3:00 PM. I walk out to my car and see that the left rear tire is FLAT. It's 2:15 and it will probably take me 45 minutes to get to Savi Ranch in Yorba Linda/Anaheim Hills. Thankfully my compassionate and generous friend Rachel lets me borrow her car. I toss my keys to the demon possessed Lexus and Matt and ask him to change my tire should be not want to work on that Friday afternoon, otherwise I would just call AAA when I got back. I love Rachel, I love that she has a practical little Civic, I HATE that I have become a car snob. After remembering how to start a car that requires me to insert a KEY into the ignition and adjusting only the rearview mirror so that my vertically challenged friend would not curse me for adjusting all her mirrors, I'm off to the appointment. I have to HOLD my cell phone to my ear and let Will know that I'm in certain Hell. I call Margot my venting buddy and we have a mutual venting fest which prevents us both from bursting into tears for our various reasons. I turn on the radio/CD player to find Mariah Carey, Merry Christmas blaring from the speakers. HEAVEN!!! I have been searching for this CD for days, Will has been searching for it as well. We couldn't find it. My absolute FAVORITE Christmas song is Mariah's version of O Holy Night. I don't know why, it just is. I figure out how to set the track on repeat and sing along the whole way to the appointment. I'm there 45 minutes, a record apparently as the girl congratulates me on knowing what I'm doing. Will was late getting there despite his having 4 full tires and being off that day. He follows me back to my office where I return Rachel's life saver with a full tank much to her protest. Matt had graciously put on the spare which was a bright yellow rim. WHY?! I pay $35k for a freaking LEXUS and they have to paint the rim YELLOW?! We go to the dealer and of course they are "swamped" and need to keep the car overnight.
That was the last disaster with the car I originally called our "Precious" but I'm sure it won't be our last...stay tuned...
It took us almost two weeks to actually get the car (the first sign of things to come). Official date we got the car April 19, 2006.
Less than a week after getting the car, we decide to stop at Carl's Jr. on the way home from dance practice. Will's driving up to the window when we hear the sound of our precious little rim grinding along the concrete of a random curve that jutts out from the side of the building for the sole purpose of ruining rims. Will is devastated, I shockingly am not (much in the same way I wasn't devastated when he lost his wedding band on our honeymoon in the ocean - it's just part of his charm :) ).
Will was travelling for work so I was driving to work by myself on May 15th in FasTrack. As I was getting on the freeway, the FasTrack transponder went flying off of the dash and ended up somewhere unreachable under the seat. I figured it wasn't a big deal, the sensor would still read the little sucker since it always managed to do so when I had attempted to hide a second transponder under the seat to avoid getting charged twice. Mind you, we had the car for less than a month and only had paper plates. I drive through the toll plaza the transponder doesn't beep and low and behold for the FIRST time in the THREE AND A HALF years I'd been driving FasTrack a CHP officer is at the toll plaza waiting for criminals like myself. Of course he pulls me over and lectures me about how the transponder should have been velcroed to the windshield and inquiring as to why I didn't yet have my plates that had been mailed out exactly 2 days earlier from Sacramento. Long story short, he let me go without ticket.
On July 19th, I'm again driving to work, this time on the 91 right past the 15 when I barely rear-end the guy in front of me. Mind you I'm working half a day, then flying out of LAX to go to Denver to do a training the next morning, only to fly back just in time for Bianka and John's rehearsal & dinner that night. I was maybe going 5-10 miles per hour so there should have been virtually zero damage thanks to the fancy bumpers that absorb impact right? WRONG. The SUV had a tow hitch that punctured my bumper. Zero damage to the car I hit, signifcant damage to my car. The alleged-legal mexican that was driving the car I hit that he didn't own, neither he or the owner had insurance. So of course I called my friends at the CHP so that little bastard that ruined my morning would at least get a ticket for not having insurance. We get the car fixed after the Sutton wedding hoopla - thank goodness for a $500 deductible - total damages: $1,200.
Literally, a few weeks AFTER we get the car back from getting repaired (sometime in late August) we are driving on the 60 when a big chunk of wood comes flying at us (Will's driving this time). He swerves to avoid it and of course the wood chunk swerves as well hitting the car in the EXACT spot we had just had repaired. We get off the freeway to survey the damage and all I can do is laugh at our misfortune. We get back on the freeway and LITERALLY within 10 minutes, a rock flies up and takes a chunk out of our windshield. Thankfully it has not yet spread. We decide that another insurance claim within a month probably isn't a good idea and figure something else will probably happen if we get it fixed. We'll just wait a year or so and then get EVERYTHING fixed all at once.
After a few quiet months I stop referring to the car as "demon possessed" and subconsciously think that the bad luck must be over.
Then December 15th comes. We have an appointment to pick out the flooring for our new house. I need to leave work early because their "evening" appointment was 3:00 PM. I walk out to my car and see that the left rear tire is FLAT. It's 2:15 and it will probably take me 45 minutes to get to Savi Ranch in Yorba Linda/Anaheim Hills. Thankfully my compassionate and generous friend Rachel lets me borrow her car. I toss my keys to the demon possessed Lexus and Matt and ask him to change my tire should be not want to work on that Friday afternoon, otherwise I would just call AAA when I got back. I love Rachel, I love that she has a practical little Civic, I HATE that I have become a car snob. After remembering how to start a car that requires me to insert a KEY into the ignition and adjusting only the rearview mirror so that my vertically challenged friend would not curse me for adjusting all her mirrors, I'm off to the appointment. I have to HOLD my cell phone to my ear and let Will know that I'm in certain Hell. I call Margot my venting buddy and we have a mutual venting fest which prevents us both from bursting into tears for our various reasons. I turn on the radio/CD player to find Mariah Carey, Merry Christmas blaring from the speakers. HEAVEN!!! I have been searching for this CD for days, Will has been searching for it as well. We couldn't find it. My absolute FAVORITE Christmas song is Mariah's version of O Holy Night. I don't know why, it just is. I figure out how to set the track on repeat and sing along the whole way to the appointment. I'm there 45 minutes, a record apparently as the girl congratulates me on knowing what I'm doing. Will was late getting there despite his having 4 full tires and being off that day. He follows me back to my office where I return Rachel's life saver with a full tank much to her protest. Matt had graciously put on the spare which was a bright yellow rim. WHY?! I pay $35k for a freaking LEXUS and they have to paint the rim YELLOW?! We go to the dealer and of course they are "swamped" and need to keep the car overnight.
That was the last disaster with the car I originally called our "Precious" but I'm sure it won't be our last...stay tuned...
Catching Up...
Since I still have a glimmer of hope that Margot might one day log into her MySpace account, I'm pretty much just doing this for Rachel...if I love blogger, then perhaps I'll ditch MySpace - we shall see. Now let's let the copying and pasting frenzy begin...
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