Operation Pink Herring

I am woman, hear me... whine

Or, the entry my brother might want to skip.

Let's talk about periods.  And not the kind at the end of a sentence.

I've been on "The Pill" since I was a sophomore in college.  This was the time that I was doing my very best to recover from anorexia.  My period had never been very regular to begin with, and one of the signs that my body was getting better was supposed to be the return of my period.  I wasn't allowed to go back to any of my normal activities until it came back, and I don't like waiting, so I said "Screw this!  Put me on the pill!", and the Student Health Center being contraceptive-happy, obliged.

(Seriously, we used to joke about how the Health Center's answer for everything was a condom.  Do you have a cold?  Take some condoms.  Fever?  Have some condoms.  Mono?  Better take a whole bag full!  One time, freshman year, I had a cough that just would not go away, and after three months of coughing up a lung every day after Track practice, my coach made me go to the Health Center.  It was the first I'd ever been in there, and I walked in and looked around for a minute.  Finally a receptionist asked if she could help me, and I said, "Um, my coach told me I need to see a doctor."  Her reply was -- verbatim -- "Oh, do you need the morning after pill?" WHA?? I HAD A COUGH, LADY!)

As shoddy as their services might have been, I wish I could still get the pill from the Health Center.  They would give you a year's supply at a time if you asked, and all a measly $10 a pack.   Hard to complain about that. 

But you knew I was going to complain, right?

Dude, I know some people hate the pill, but I thought it was the greatest thing ever.  I mean, you know EXACTLY when you're going to get your period!  Right down to the day!  That's a whole lot better than being unpleasantly surprised every couple of months, thinking so that's why I've had a stomach ache for the past three days, DAMNIT!  We won't talk about any of the other, more, ahem, well-known benefits of The Pill, because I'm a nice, wholesome girl and I wouldn't know anything about that.  Also, my family reads this site.  Hi, Daddy!

But then the day came when I graduated from college, and a few months later, my stash ran out and I found myself needing to get a regular doctor and use my regular insurance to get my medical supplies.  No more getting an appointment the next day.  And worse, no more $10 a month prescriptions, with a few generic condoms thrown in as a bonus.  ("Just in case you need them!  Pass them out to your friends!")

And then I found out that in the real world, things cost more money.  $30 a month, to be exact.  And at that time, I really just couldn't afford it.  So I told my doctor I needed something cheaper.  Being the smart woman that she is, she suggested I try Seasonale, because I could get a three-month supply at once, all for one copay.  I told her to sign me up.  And I guess I should thank my insurance company for sucking (NOTE TO INSURANCE COMPANIES -- BIRTH CONTROL COSTS LESS THAN BABIES, STOP BEING SO STINGY YOU GREEDY JERKS!), because now not only do I pay $30 for a three month supply --  putting me back to $10 a month -- but I also only get my period four times a year.

Four.

Times.

A.

Year.

I honestly don't know why every woman in the world is not on this stuff.  Four periods a year!  That's one every three months!  That's freaking fantastic, in my book.

A friend of mine (who will remain nameless) said she wouldn't like that, because she likes the reassurance that she's not knocked up every month.   Now, I certainly understand needless and compulsive worrying (although I wouldn't know anything about this particular worry, of course), but I think that, personally, I'd rather pee on a stick every month than deal with the agony of a period.

Have you figured out yet that I have my period? 

Just thought you all should know.  And I feel like crap.  Happy freaking Wednesday.  I have to go die now.

(Not really, I am just a big wuss)

(And I'm sure I'll be embarrassed that I wrote this tomorrow)

Things to look forward to

There is some good stuff on the horizon.  The days are getting longer, it's no longer pitch black when I emerge from my basement-level office, and it's getting warmer out.  The hibiscus tree that I thought I killed (again) is sprouting new leaves, making this its third miraculous resurection.  Work is showing some signs of slowing down at some point next month.  However, the fact that it seems to only be TUESDAY still baffles me.  Wha??  I currently have two back episodes of Heroes on the Tivo, which is a sure sign that something is very, very wrong with the universe.  Our house is a total and complete mess.  I really need to get my car washed to rinse all the salt off of it.  I really need to get back on track with hitting the gym 5 times a week.  I really need to do the laundry.  But first, I just have to survive this week at work.  And to do that, I count down to better things.  Shut up, I know I'm not the only one who does crazy shit like this.

Days until Casual Friday: 4

Days until the weekend: 5

Days until Henry gets The Snip and can stop humping everything in sight, trying to assassinate the other male cats in the house, keeping "his" territory "marked", and yowling all night: 7 days, 22 hours and 14 minutes

Days until my family comes to visit, holy crap I better start cleaning RIGHTNOW!: 10

Days until my favorite non-holiday holiday of the year, Daylight Savings Day: 12

Days until my momma's birthday: 0!  Happy birthday, mommy!

And Happy Tuesday to you, internet.  Here's to hoping you're all having a better day than Morris O'Brian.

WTF???

Typepad just ate my post.  Or maybe I just didn't actually type it.  Both are possible, seeing as I didn't sleep at all last night.  But either way, it's gone.  Or it never existed.  Where did that purple monkey come from?  Wha?

In other news, Henry seems to be doing well, with the exception of his undying desire to kill Madison.  He seems to be fine with Max, possibly because Max is 3 times his size.  He's still in solitary feline confinement because of this little issue (it's not really very solitary since he's staying in the room we spend most of our time in).  Solitary or not, he'd apparently like to petition for the right to some conjugal visits, because he undeniably humped my leg last week.  I still feel violated. 

Countdown to Henry's neuter appointment: 8 days.  Screw what my vet says about "waiting until his body is fully recovered from his trauma".   I bet she's never been made a cat's bitch. If he's healthy enough to try to mount my leg, he's healthy enough for a little routine surgery.   

Pardon me, I need to go get some coffee and try to get that image out of my mind now.

My first meme-thingy

So, I guess now that I have this new, pink website, I should write something on it, huh?  Maybe I should fill out the author bio, or explain the weird title or something?  Nah.  Too much thinking.  Instead I think I will do the first part of the meme that my blogging buddy Hollow Squirrel tagged me for.

(Side note to my mother and anyone else scratching their heads right now: a meme is like a survey combined with a chain letter.  It has questions, that you're supposed to answer and then people "tag" someone at the end to fill it out next.  Except they don't usually say that an anvil will fall on your head if you don't forward it to 30 people in the next 30 minutes).   

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1. Are your parents married or divorced? Happily divorced.

2. Are you a vegetarian? I like to say that I am a vegetarian in theory, but not in practice.  I hate the idea of eating cute, fluffy animals.  I hate that eating meat is hard on our planet and that the animals usually live in horrid conditions before being slaughtered.  I usually cannot stomach eating meat that still resembles the body part of the animal, like ribs or drumsticks.  But, I'm too lazy and poor to be a real vegetarian.   If I had grown up on a farm like Joel did, I can guarantee that the first time a cute little sheep disappeared and ended up on the dinner table I would have become a vegetarian for life.  But it's easier not to think about it when you're buying ground beef and pork chops at the grocery store.  Meat is tasty, and important for nutrition.  I don't have the money to shop for vegan prepared meals at Whole Foods every day, and I don't have the know-how or the time to make something appetizing and nutritious every day without incorporating meat.   So... I'm not a vegetarian.  But I wish I could be.

3. Do you believe in Heaven? Not in the sense of a place people who are good go, up in the clouds with God.

4. Have you ever come close to dying?  I can't think of a time, unless narrowly avoided car accidents count.  Or unless that time I was thisclose to falling off a mountain in Hawaii counts.  I guess the closest I've actually come to dying is when I was anorexic and severely underweight.  But I don't like to think about that.

5. What jewelry do you wear 24/7? Nothing.  I don't wear much jewewlery, an I whatever I am wearing off before I go to bed.  I can't stand to sleep in jewelery.  I also can't stand to sleep in pants, but that's another story.

6. Favorite time of day?  Early evening in the summer.  When I was a lifeguard, I absolutely loved to sit at the lake where I worked around 5pm.  The light and the sounds and smell of a summer evening make me so, so happy.  Here in Baltimore, the sky turns a brilliant pink/purple when the sun begins to go down.  Light pollution, it's beautiful sometimes.

7. Do you eat the stems of broccoli?  Yes, I love broccoli.

8. Do you wear makeup? Pretty much never.  For special occasions I wear mascara, and I also own eyeliner and concealer that I never use.

9. Ever have plastic surgery? Nope.

10. If you did have plastic surgery, what you you do? I am totally with HS on this one.  I would have chin-lipo.  And maybe some regular lipo so I could fit into my old jeans again.  Oh, and surgery to remove the permanent bags under my eyes, if that is even possible.

11. What do you wear to bed? Anything but pants.  Don't get me wrong, I LOVE pajama pants, but I think they are for daytime-wear.  I cannot stand how they get all scrunched up and turned around and constricting when I sleep.  I thrash around a lot in my sleep.  And you don't have to tell me that I have "issues".  Trust me, I know.

12. Have you ever done anything illegal? I jaywalk every day.  Oh, I don't have my cats licensed with the city.  I speed.  I steal interent from the neighbors.  Do you want me to go on?  The answer is yes.  I defy the law.

13. Can you roll your tongue? Yes.

14. Do you tweeze your eyebrows? Yes. I love plucking.  Don't ask me why.  I think it has to do with my OCD tendencies.

15. What kind of sneakers? I call them "running shoes", but potato/potato.  I can only run in Asics Gel Kayanos.  Anything else feels like walking on needles compared to their soft, cushiony goodness.  I love them so much that I ordered a pair in the most heinous colors I've ever seen, at full price when I needed a new pair.  I tried another pair of nicer looking, cheaper shoes first and it just didn't feel right.  I tried to make it work, but I had to go back to my Kayanos.  They have me in their grip.

16. Do you believe in abortions? I don't like abortions, but I firmly believe in the right to choose, and my heart breaks for anyone who's had to be in that position. 

17. What is your hair color? Brown, baby.

18. Future child’s name?  I love the name Madison for a girl and Michael for a boy.  Is it weird that those are my cat's name and my brother's name, respectively?  What, it's not like I named either of them.  I can't help it if my mother and Madison's irresponsible previous owner both had excellent taste. 

19. Do you snore? Probably, but I like to pretend that I don't.

20. If you could go anywhere in the world where would it be? Oh, dear.  Where do I begin?  Hawaii.  India.  Tibet.  China.  Barcelona.  Germany.  Mexico.  Thailand.  Nepal.  Australia.  New Zealand.  Fiji. I could go on, but I'll stop there.  I love to travel.

21. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? No, but I sleep with real ones when they're in the mood.

22. If you won the lottery, what would you do first? Check a million times to make sure I didn't have the numbers wrong.  Then flip out, quit my job, and buy a house with some closet space and a dedicated parking spot.

23. Gold or silver? Silver.

24. Hamburger or hot dog? Veggie burger, please.  Although I do love the smell of a real burger on the grill.

25. If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be? Pizza.

26. City, beach or country? City.  I don't like beaches all that much.  Too much sand, too much sun, and I don't like getting wet.  I do love the sound and smell of the ocean, though.  And visiting the country is nice.  But I love living in a city.  I just hate finding a parking space.

27. What was the last thing you touched? Hardy har.  The keyboard.

28. Where did you eat last? At my desk. Sad.

29. When’s the last time you cried? The last time that Pedigree commercial, the one where they have all the shelter dogs looking sad and lonely, was on.  You think I'm kidding, but I'm totally not.

30. Do you read blogs? Never.

31. Would you ever go out dressed like the opposite sex? You mean wearing pants and a shirt?  Yes.

32. Ever been involved with the police? Depends on what "involved" means.  I have been involved with discussions with more police officers than I can count, but it's not my fault that the police in the town I grew up in have nothing better to do than harass high school kids.  It's also not my fault that I drove down that one way street the wrong way, the signage was confusing.  And it's totally not my fault that I speed, the speed limits around here are ridiculous.  But I've never been to a police station (except on totally innocent business, like dropping off recycling and handing in Joel's completed repair order) or arrested or anything.

33. What’s your favorite shampoo, conditioner and soap? I really don't shower/wash my hair often enough to have a favorite.  I do like Tresseme stuff a lot, I guess.

34. Do you talk in your sleep? How would I know?  Joel does sometimes.  I think it's hysterical. 

35. Ocean or pool? Neither.  I hate getting wet.  But if I had to choose, I would pick the ocean because it's so nice to listen to and it supports so much life (HIPPIE ALERT!! HIPPIE ALERT!!) I hate pools.  Do you have any idea how dirty they are?   I can tell you, if you really want to know.  But trust me, you don't.

36. Sauna or whirlpool? Whirlpools are also disgusting but I'll admit that they do feel good after a long day of hiking.

37. Starbucks or Krispy Kreme? Starbucks all the way.  I'm not a fan of donuts.  They're not worth it.

I'll finish the rest of this long-ass thing tomorrow (= next week).   Have a great weekend, internet!  And let me know if anything's not working on the new site.

Just checking in to ruin your lunch

I have five minutes to update before I have to leave for my dentist appointment.  So, hi!  How are you guys?  How was the weekend?

We're back from Chicago.  It was COLD in Chicago.  I knew it was going to be cold, but I didn't know it was going to be THAT cold.  Negative 15 with windchill.  Brrr.  But we still had a great time (inside).  And of course, I took pictures.

And I would tell you more, except the only thing on my mind is how many more hours til our vet appt?  Because guess what!  Henry has some sort of worm.  I think it's either a tapeworm or a roundworm.  Want to know how I know this?

Don't continue reading if you are eating.  Or if you ever plan on eating again.

I totally saw it coming out of his butt last night. 

THAT'S RIGHT. 

(BARFBARFBARFBARFBARFBARFBARFBARFBARFBARFBARF)

I have a weak stomach to begin with, and I often have to turn away when Jack Bauer is getting down to business on primetime TV.  I also CANNOT STAND what I call "sneaky" animals... like snakes and lizards scorpions and basically any little thing that creeps around and hides.  A creepy, sneaky animal that HIDES INSIDE YOUR BODY?  Please just kill me now.  I literally cannot think it without cringing.  And throwing up a little bit in my mouth.  Which is exactly what I did when I saw it.  It went something like this:

Henry: [gets off my lap and walkd away, giving me a nice view of his non-neutered rear end]

Me: [seeing white thing poking out of his butt, MOVING AROUND LIKE A DAMNED ANTENNAE] OMG OMG OMG WHAT IS THAT WHAT IS THAT WHAT IS THAT

Joel: [enters room, sees me curled in fetal position] What's wrong?

Me: HENRY HAS A TAPEWORM!!  I SAW IT COMING OUT OF HIS BUTT!! OMG!  DO SOMETHING!

Joel: [Lifting Henry up to inspect his butt]: I don't see anything.

Me: IT WAS THERE!  I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP!  LOOK AGAIN!  NO, DON'T MAKE ME LOOK!  I CAN'T SEE IT AGAIN!

Joel: There is nothing there.

Me: OMG OMG OMG OMG THERE IT IS!!!  IT'S ON THE FREAKING CHAIR!!

Joel: That is nothing.  Calm down.

Me: OMG OMG OMG OMG IT JUST MOVED!!!

Joel: Hmm.  I guess he does have worms.

In conclusion: SICK.  I will never sit in that chair again.  And we will be making another visit to the vet tonight (#3 so far, Henry is quickly closing on Max's record) to kill whatever that thing was. 

Happy Heart Day

I've never been one of those people who hated Valentine's Day, even though for most of my life I didn't have a boyfriend.  I guess I just love holiday that has a red, pink and white theme (guess what?  My super-secret new blog has the same colors).  I love a day that celebrates love. Oh, and I love any day that practically forces you eat those little candy hearts.  The good ones, the ones that melt in your mouth.  You know what I mean.  Not those Sweet Tart imposters.   

Today has been pretty low key, since Joel and I are going on a mini-vacation in celebration of V-day tomorrow.  But it's been downright glorious, thanks to the "winter weather event".  That's right folks: I had a snow day today.  A whole snow day.  I told you, all you have to do is believe.... and live in a city that only has one plow and no idea how to deal with snow.  I love Baltimore sometimes.

I love my family, and how close we have all become now that all three of us kids are semi-adults.   I love that my brother emails me for advice about house-hunting and his IRA, and that I can actually answer him sometimes.  I love comparing what we learned in yoga with my mom and getting sappy e-cards from my dad.

I love my friends, most of whom I've known since high school.  I love getting 30 emails a day and getting X-rated play-by-plays of their match.com dates.  I love reading the predictions we made back in high school and laughing about how wrong and right we were.  I love going to a restaurant with them and ordering a side salad and a bottle of wine each.  And I especially love Liz, who is taking care of my cat circus while we're away.

I love my boyfriend, who cleaned up the cat barf this morning before he went to work, and who puts up with my organizational mania.

I love that I don't have to go to work until Tuesday.

Happy Heart Day, Internet.  I hope you had all the chocolate, wine, and love you can handle.   

And ya'll said it would never happen....

We are currently under a "Winter Weather Event" Advisory.

Currently
Updated: 1:30 PM EST Observed at South Baltimore, Baltimore, Maryland
Temperature	27.3 °F / -2.6 °C
Humidity	85%
Dew Point	23 °F / -5 °C
Wind	NE at 12.0 mph / 19.3 km/h / 6.2 m/s
Conditions	Light Ice Pellets Snow Mist

Never mind that not the snow has not accumulated at all, and that it is supposed to turn to rain by tomorrow morning... my office is closing early today and opening late tomorrow.  HALLELUJAH!  Thank goodness for "Light Ice Pellets" and "Snow Mist"!  I'm not even sure those are real weather terms, and I don't care. 

On Thursday, Joel and I are going to Chicago for a little Valentine's Day trip.  We planned this trip in January, when it was 60 degrees and sunny out, and at the time I thought "How bad can Chicago be in almost-March?  Screw Florida, that's boring.  Let's go to Chicago!" Now I am wondering just how crazy am I? as I look at the forecast for "Snow Blowing Snow" (really, that's what it says) with a temperature of 6 degrees/feels like -7 degrees.   But even if it totally sucks outside, I'm looking forward to getting away for a few days.  I love staying in hotels.  I love how the closets have plenty of space for all the stuff I can possibly pack, and how the trash just magically gets emptied every day.  I love sleeping in a non-sucky, non-ikea bed with a giant bedspread and plenty of pillows.  I love how the curtains actually block out the light, and I don't have to wear a sleeping mask.  There are a bunch of museums that Joel wants to go to.  Other than that, we don't have anything planned.  I can't wait.

Of course, this all means that I might not be posting much for the rest of the week.  I'm sure the internet will be down at home due to the "winter weather event", and we're probably not going to pay for access in the hotel in Chicago.  But I'll be back... with pictures.  You know you're excited.

Speaking of excitement, there are going to be some changes around here next week.  Some very exciting changes.  In honor of my blogoversary, I am going to be moving my blog to another site.  One that will not turn up when someone Google searches my full name.  I am still testing it out and figuring out how to migrate everything over, which is difficult when you are a borderline techno-idiot, but I expect it to be fully operational by the end of next week.    That is, if the massive snowstorms don't destroy the internet before then.

Productive Weekend Recap

We had an event-filled, yet relaxing weekend.  I got almost everything on my to-do list accomplished, which is amazing and wonderful.  On Saturday, we:

• went to yoga
• showered
• picked up books at the library
• dropped off mail at the post office
• returned books to Barnes and Noble
• bought many bookshelves and a new TV cart from Ikea
• went to Joel's office holiday party

Then, on Sunday, we:

• assembled all the new Ikea furniture
• went to the grocery store
• did laundry
• made a delicious dinner (steaks, french fries, and sauteed spinach with walnuts)

Yes, I put showering on my to-do list.   And I not only managed to do it, but I also blow-dried my hair in honor of the office party thingy.  Thank you, thank you.  You all are really too kind.  No, really, stop throwing roses!  Oh, that's really not necessary.  A standing ovation?  Why, thank you.  You're the best, internet.

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Henry seems to be doing well.  He has developed a few new tendencies while he was off gallivanting around the city, one of which is "talking".  A lot.  He is contesting Shadow, my family's (almost) 20-yr-old cat, for World's Most Annoying Meow.  The good news is, his yowling doesn't seem to denote that something is actually wrong with him.  Nope, he just likes to sit in his chair and talk to himself. 

Oh hi, I folded the laundry.

He has also decided that he does not want any kitty roomates, which is unfortunate, but I'm  hoping will blow over... especially after he gains enough weight to get The Snip. 

Oh, and he has also decided that Joel is his BFF.  Which is, you know, only slightly insulting SINCE I'M THE ONE PAYING THE VET BILL.   Oh well. 

Happy Monday, Internet. 

Good News Friday, Part Deux

I already  had a post started for today, in which I was going to talk about the week in TV.  Because, you know.  I love TV. 

But last night, just as I was about to leave my office, my phone rang.  In principle, I don't answer my  office phone after 5pm.  It's bad enough that I NEVER make it out on time, but answering the phone is just a mistake.  I also never answer email from home, on principle.  I think that just breeds the expectation that you'll be available 24-7 for work, and I'm not OK with that.  I realize it's a long jump from answering the phone at 5:15 to being handcuffed to your laptop....  but it's a slippery slope.  And I don't like skiing .

Luckily, we have called ID, and when I saw "Your Vet's Office" on the display, I picked it up.  I had no idea why they'd be calling.  My first thought was that I messed up the date for Max's visit next month and we'd missed it.  Cue sinking stomach, because I hate missing appointments.  Instead, they told me that someone had brought in a cat that looked an awful lot like Henry.

I went right to the vet's office, and they brought out the mystery cat, wrapped in a towel.  He'd been brought in by a woman who lived nearby, who'd found him sitting on her doorstep.  He was bone thin, and one of his front paws was badly injured.  We took him into an exam room, and I looked him over... and honestly, I just wasn't sure.  It certainly looked a lot like Henry.  He had the same color eyes, and the same tufted ears.  But I had to admit (somewhat sheepishly, because I felt like the staff were all thinking, Um, why would we give a cat back to a terrible person like her, she can't even identify him for crying out loud!), that I just couldn't tell.  He didn't have strong orange undertones like I remembered.  And this cat didn't have a kitten's meow like Henry did.  Of course, these things can change, especially on a young cat (Henry was 9 months old when he escaped).  But the bottom line is, I just wasn't sure. 

I went home to look at the pictures that I'd just organized on the computer.  I compared the picture I'd taken of the new cat with my phone to all the pictures we had taken of Henry before he escaped.  They sure did look similar.  But it was still hard to say for sure. 

Joel had the brilliant idea that we just take the laptop back to the vet's office, because after all - he got a laptop so that we could take it places.  And so we packed up the laptop and went back to the vet.  They brought the new cat out again, and just like CSI detectives, we compared every marking from the pictures to the live, limping cat in front of us.  It took about 5 minutes for us to be sure.  It was Henry. 

It seems the prodigal cat has returned.   I'm ecstatic that he's returned.  I'm also sort of mad at him for running away.  And I'm also worried about the billions of dollars (in cat-dollars, which are like cat-years) that his little escape is going to cost me.  The terms blood transfusion and xray were actually used in describing his course of treatment last night.  Along with IV fluids, and overnight hospital stay and antibiotics.  I guess it's a good thing I got a raise, because apparently it's quite expensive to be a crazy cat lady.

But mostly, I'm just so, so happy that he's OK and he's home.  Or, at least he will be once the vet releases him.

Revolving Door Etiquette

One of the many perks of my place of employment is that there is a gym on our campus.  And it's free for me.  After work, I can just change in my office, sneak out the back door (so no one sees me in my gym clothes; I don't know why I find it so embarassing to be seen in my gym clothes by my coworkers), and walk across the street.  I can work out for an hour, take my time stretching out, and be home by 7pm.  Pretty sweet, I know.

The problem is, the gym is a little too sweet.  It has brand new cardio machines, along with some free weights and strength machines.  All the cardio machines have their own TV monitor.  With cable.  So it's probably not surprising that these machines are very popular.  So popular, that a sign-up sheet had to be instituted. 

The gym is not very big.  There are only 12 cardio machines: 4 bikes, 4 treadmills, and 4 ellipticals.  They get signed up for fast.  So fast, that I have to go over and sign up in the morning if I want to have any hope of actually getting on a machine during the post-5pm rush.

Every morning, my plan is to leave the house early enough to stop at the gym before work to sign up for a machine.  Ideally, I would also like to have time to stop at the coffee shop in the gym's building, because that's where the good pumpkin spice coffee is.  But we don't live in an ideal world, my friends.  And so, every morning I curse myself for leaving the house with just barely enough time to make it to the office, let alone to the gym.  So I either have to sneak over after I've come into the office, take my chances at getting a machine sans-signup, or just forget about going to the gym at all that day.   

This morning I was right on the cusp of having enough time to make it to the gym before work.  So I hurried up, walked a little faster through the two inches of snow on the sidewalk, and hustled up the stairs to the gym's building while looking at my watch.  It was 8:20.  I had ten minutes to get in there, sign up, and run over to work.  Not an easy task, but doable.

There was a big group of students walking very slowly up the stairs, and I scooted around them and jumped into the revolving door.  I did not cut them off.  They clearly did not have their eyes on the prize and were taking their sweet time moseying along, talking.  I was in a hurry, but I'm not so rude that I'd push people to get into the building first.  Although... if it gets any colder, I might be forced to resort to such measures.

As I pushed the annoyingly heavy door around its circle, it jammed and I heard an "oh!" sound behind me.  I turned around, and saw that I had accidentally smooshed one of the students in the door. 

Let me be more clear: THIS GIRL TRIED TO JUMP INTO THE REVOLVING DOOR WITH ME.  And so I smooshed her, because WHAT?  Who does that? 

I hate revolving doors.  They are especially annoying on this building, because it is the main building for a large graduate program, and when classes let out a huge line forms for people waiting to get through the revolving door.  So... I can sort of understand doubling up going through the revolving door WITH A FRIEND.  Maybe.  But with a stranger?  Without any sort of heads up, like Oh hey, let me just jump in that door with you and totally violate your personal space, even though it's way too early in the morning for this sort of thing and I have a huge coat and backpack on, so there's no way I could even fit in there with you in the first place.

I'm just saying.  Some warning would have been nice.  But I did get myself signed up for 30 minutes an elliptical this evening during prime Gilmore Girls repeats time.  And hopefully that girl learned a valuable lesson on respecting people's right to go through a revolving door alone.

Warning: The Following May Not Make Sense. Exposure to Chronic Complaining May Cause You To Bang Head Into a Wall. Names of TV Characters May Be Mispelled and Author Does Not Care. Proceed at Your Own Risk and Consult a Doctor If Bitching Persists.

I am a master of lists.  I have a list for everything from Books I Want to Read to Things I'd Buy If I Won The Lottery.   Some of them I keep in my head, and some of them I write down.  I love to cross things off the list.  It makes me feel happy.

I have a list of Things To Do for every weekend.  Sometimes I start the list for the next weekend while I'm still in the current weekend.  I like to plan ahead.

One problem I have is that I get carried away with my listing, and then I am disappointed when I fail to complete everything most of the things on the list.  For example, my To Do List for this weekend read like this:

1. Paint front room
2. Do taxes
3. Go to yoga
4. Go to grocery store
5. Pick up Dry Cleaning
6. Watch Superbowl

The list of Things that Actually Got Done looked more like this:

1. Feel like crap all weekend
2. Become expert at snorting Afrin
3. Look into developing cocaine habit, now that I've overcome fear of delivering drugs through nose

I am optimistic that this cold is on its way out the door, and not a moment too soon, I might add.  People really deal with this every winter?  I am amazed.  Right now my sinuses are still throbbing so much that my TEETH actually hurt.  Is that even possible? 

Anyway, enough complaining about my stupid cold already!  Let's complain about the weather.  For the love of all things holy, I thought I was clear about this:  WINTER IS CANCELED THIS YEAR.  You cannot go and have 70-degree days during all of December and then slam me with a temperature of THIRTEEN DEGREES this morning.   I know, I know, thirteen degrees is "not that bad" and "it could be worse".  That does not make me feel even one bit less cold.  I am petitioning for an injunction to have all winter weather suspended immediately, and for spring to arrive early as predicted by our very scientific, cuddly Mr. Groundhog.

Hmm, what else?  There was some football game on yesterday, I hear.  Glad that's over.  I thought the commercials were pretty lame.  Please discuss.

To say that I'm looking forward to tonight's TV lineup would be a vast understatement, given the dearth of entertaining televised media that was available over the weekend.  I was hoping for at least a decent Law and Order marathon from USA or TNT, the two channels that tend to cater to those of us -- ahem -- who don't fall in line with the masses and like to have something else to watch during presidential speeches and games of people trying to kick a malformed ball down a field while Prince covers Foo Fighters songs during the halftime show.  But they decided to run Monk and The Closer marathons instead.  I'm not bitter or anything.

On 24 we're guaranteed some good Jack Bauer ass-kicking, and that's great.  But on Heroes, we're going to find out who Claire's real dad is.  Joel thinks that her adopted dad is actually her birth father as well. I think it might be Sylar.  Isabel thinks it's Nathan Piterelli, based on a swatch of shirt that we were shown in a preview.  And how could I almost forget about Prison Break, which is also due for a good twist, because SERIOUSLY -- it's been like 10 minutes since they blew our minds, so I'm expecting to find out that Sarah Tancreti and Michael Schofield are actually brother and sister any time now. 

Well, I'm off to blow my nose until my brains come out and pretend to be alive for the next few hours until I can blow of going to the gym for the 5th day in a row (this cold is killing my resolutions!) and go home to inhale paint fumes and Afrin.  Happy Monday, internet.  As if there is such a thing.

All titled out

You know what, Janet?  I don't like your attitude.  Snow days are like fairies.  You have to BELIEVE.

At least, you have to believe when you live in a state where "wintry mix beginning at 3am" means "four raindrops will fall and it will be 40 degrees out".

Ahem.  Anyway.

I have a question for you ladies out there.  It's about hair. 

When it comes to hair stying, I am pretty much the most low-maintenance girl on the planet.  I just can't motivate myself to do anything with my hair when I know it's just going to go back to being a curly, tangly mess the second I wash it.  Or sleep on it.  Or dare to breathe on it.  I have recently gotten into the habit of at least brushing my hair most days, and I do shell out for the expensive Redken products because they are magical and can usually tame my hair into something that looks slightly less like a lion's mane on a windy day.  I also have become a one-salon girl over the past year, instead of going to whatever cheap place I happened to pass in the mall when I needed a haircut.   The place I go to is relatively inexpensive, charging $75 for partial highlights and a cut.  I don't like the fact that it's run by a gossipy, elitist couple or that it's only open 3 days a week.  But damn, that guy can cut hair.   He can cut MY hair.

So my question is this: how long should it take for highlights and a cut/style?  I had an appointment last night at 5:30, and when I got back to my car with my new 'do, it was 7:45pm.  Is that not excessive?  I was going to do some errands afterwards, but instead I had to rush home to grab a parking spot within 10 miles of the house.   I was annoyed.  But then I looked in the mirror, and damn.  I guess it's OK that I didn't make it to the grocery store and we have no food in the fridge because as least my hair looks good.  (But nowhere near as good as Janet's, I have to admit).

Of course, it will be back to normal after I wash it tonight, but at least my almost-black roots won't be an inch long anymore.   

I also have a weekend assignment for you all.  I am sick of this blog's title.  I created this site after watching the Chronicles of Narnia, and it seemed like a good idea at the time.  Now I am ready for a new title... and the problem is, I can't think of a damn thing.  Suggestions?  Ideas?  Anything?

Have a great weekend, everyone.  That's an order.

***********************************

UPDATED, because I aim to please:

So here is a picture of the new 'do, which I should really point out is not a "new" 'do at all.  It is more of a "trim" and and "update" of the "highlights" that might have been growing out since "August".  The only real new part is the whole 15 minutes the stylist invested in blowdrying my hair, which is approximately 14 minutes and 58 seconds more time than my hair usually gets.

Photo credits:

• Bags under the eyes courtesy of the cold that has been kicking my ass all week.
• Shitty lighting courtesy of my underground bat-cave office.
• Crappy photo quality courtesy of my 3-yr old camera phone.
• Special thanks to CASUAL FRIDAY for the comfy fleece zip-up.

More like the Chronicles of Misery

So, no snow day.  It was "snowing" this morning, so maybe tomorrow.

As seldom as I get sick, Joel gets sick probably as much as a regular person.  So wouldn't you know, the first time I come down with a cold in this decade, Joel gets one at the exact same time.  In fact, we got sick within hours of each other.  On Tuesday night, Joel popped a couple of ibuprofen before bed because he thought he felt a little feverish.  When I woke up on Wednesday morning, I felt like someone had run a cheese grater down the back of my throat and stuffed cotton balls in my nose. 

When I got home from work last night, I took a shower and then collapsed on the couch, where I remained for the rest of the evening.  Joel came home and made me some tea and a grilled cheese sandwich.  We both laid on the couch for awhile, but there was absolutely nothing on TV, so we decided to just go to bed.  I normally have to force myself to stop cleaning/organizing/surfing the internet/watching TV and go up to bed.  Last night I was all too happy to go upstairs and just have the day be over.

Usually try to get into bed by 11pm.  On most night, it's more like midnight, and then I read until 12:30 or one.  Last night, as I turned to pick up my book and read for a few minutes before passing out, I glanced at the clock.  It was 9:18pm.

My name is Jack Bauer, and this is the longest week of my life.

(/complaining)

(I promise)

(Especially if we have a snow day tomorrow)