My Groundbreaking Resolution

Brace yourself, for I am about to be one big, fat New Year's resolution cliche.

Ready?

"I resolve to lose weight in 2012."

One big, fat cliche, I know. But the truth is, I've been unhappy with my body for a while. I remember when I was in high school I used to think that I was so fat. I would stand in front of the mirror and pick apart each and every part of my body. Now when I look at pictures of myself from back then I want to slap that wicked teenager because good Lord, my body was fantastic. I had a completely flat stomach with visable abs thanks to volleyball and track. My arms were toned and had no jiggle at all. And my legs....oh my legs. For only being 5'4", my legs are actually quite long. And when they are in good shape, they go on forever. Being a good Latina, three things on me have more than average volume - bust, ass and hair. I hated all three in high school. I was so self-concious of my boobs and booty that I never appreciated them. And now, years later, I would kill to see them in their former glory. My hair I've come to appreciate and realize how lucky I am to have it but the other two...well they've just sort of...shifted. Sure, some of it's just because I'm getting old but that's little comfort when I stand in front of my full-length mirror when getting ready in the morning. And it's even less comfort when I'm in yoga class taught by a woman who has a good 20 years on me and she looks like Jillian Michaels.

So, I decided that this will be the year that I no longer stand in front of that mirror feeling blue. I don't want to feel frustrated getting dressed anymore. I don't want to stare at my skinny jeans in the closet and know that they would look cute with my new boots except for the fact that they won't squeak over my hips. I want a flat stomach again. I want toned legs and arms again. I want to look in the mirror and think "Hot damn!" not "Ehhh, that'll do".

So there it is - the ugly truth. I didn't want to write about this at all but I think putting it out there will help keep me accountable. At least that's my hope. So there could a whole lotta fitness talk all up in this blog - consider yourself warned.

Snotty New Year

Well so far 2011 has kicked my boo-tay. I flew out on New Year's Eve to visit one of my best friends and we were supposed to go out to go see a band play and ring in the new year. Instead, I was on the couch in my jammies, feeling like doo-doo. And then I went to urgent care a few days later and was diagnosed with a double ear infection and an upper respiratory infection. I flew home a couple of days after that and though not feeling 100%, I went back to work. And by this past Monday I was feeling about as rotten as I had before the 10 days of antibiotics. So I went back to the doctor on Monday to be told that I still have an ear infection and now a sinus infection and STILL an upper respiratory infection. If I were 15 I'd say FML. But since I'm 34 I'll say...oh the hell with it - Fuck My Life. So I've been home sick for the last few days and I am slowly losing my mind. Turns out, there is NOTHING on tv during the day. And I've been reading my new book for book club but even that is tiring when I have to put down my book to cough up a lung every 5 minutes. I did manage to make some yummy cookies this afternoon - oatmeal, cranberry, white chocolate chip cookies. Nomnomnomnomnom, if I do say so myself.

Anyway, this cold was not how I was had intended to start the year. All my motivation was blow out in a Puffs Plus about a week ago. So now I'm all sad and blue because I feel like I've already lost 3 weeks worth of whatever this year had to offer. I might be being a tad dramatic but between the illness and the houseboundness and the general feeling of yuck, I'm just sad. Plus, January has never been my favorite month, so there's that too.

So in the interest of getting me out of my funk, I decided to do little things to make myself hapy. First, the cookies. Just the smell of something baking makes me cheery. Then I called the neighbor kids over and gave them a dozen and they were so excited and kept telling me how yummy the cookies were and that make me really happy because I love cooking for people but I really love cooking for people who love my cooking. And then I worked on getting my passport renewed because I've decided that in 2011 I will be doing some international travel. Perhaps as a 35th birthday to myself. Who knows. And now I'm going to do a little yoga before bed today...assuming I do drown in my own snot when I going into downward dog. Yoga always makes me feel better. And then I will take the awesome cough medicine that puts me into the deepest, lovliest sleep ever. And I'm always a happier person when I get sleep.

So that's the update from here. Not much exciting to report but hey, at least I'm writing.

In A Pinch

Things I did today that sucked:
Got a flu shot
Rolled my ankle in my cute new Mary Janes
Had a fitness assessment wherein my body fat was measured with tong-like device.

Things I did today that did not suck:
Lots of progress on work project
More sit-ups and push-ups than I thought possible during aforementioned fitness test
Made a delicious dinner of tenderloin, couscous/spinach/feta/pine nut stuffed tomatoes, roasted new potatoes.
Watched "Glee"

I guess it's not a horrible day if the "did not suck" list is longer than the "suck" list.

The fitness assessment was interesting because I thought I would rock the cardio part and then be shameful at the strength test. I was wrong. Apparently I am rather strong when compared to other girls my age. (Sidebar: I still think of myself as a girl. I originally typed "other women my age" rather that "girls" but I just giggled and erased it as it just made me sound old and I'm young and vivacious, damnit.) Anywho, I did well on strength and flexibility; however, my cardio was not as fantabulous as I thought it would be. And the body fat measurements? OH. DEAR. LORD. I knew it would be a little embarrassing because the trainer said I'd have to be shirtless (but in a sports bra as I am no gym floozy). I'm not the girl at the gym who runs around in her sports bra; I try to keep the girls covered up so having them covered with only a layer of lycra/spandex blend was daunting. So there I stood in my yoga pants and my sports bra, wishing I had managed to keep a little bit of summer tan but realizing that sadly, I had not, and just looked white and squishy. The trainer grabs the back of my arm and begins to measure. And it's not just a little squeeze but a full-on pinch. I yelped a little and she apologized saying that it might "get a little uncomfortable". Yeah, because I wasn't uncomfortable standing under unforgiving fluorescent lighting in my sports bra while you stand there with your fit, trim body taking notes on all the ways my body is neither fit nor trim. Go ahead and add injury to insult and grab my thigh with those forsaken pliers. And then squeeze really hard. And then maybe you could spit in my eye just to round out the hurt and humiliation. After that was the treadmill test where they see how quickly you can walk 1 mile. Speed walking is not my bag, baby. If my legs are going that fast, let's just get our run on, shall we? Trainer put the kibosh on running. Just walk as fast as you can do 1 mile. So I did. And my legs were killing me because I ran yesterday. And I ran hard yesterday. So though walking 1 mile doesn't sound that difficult, it wasn't a whole lot of fun and I didn't do all that well. Cue the shame. Who can't walk 1 mile quickly? I can run a mile, no problem. But walk it as fast as possible without your heart leaping out of your chest? Sucktastic.*sigh* After that I had to do the flexibility test which I did really well at and regained a tiny shred of self-respect. The last part was what I was dreading the most - strength test. Push-ups and crunches. And I couldn't believe it but I did quite a few of each. So the trainer took all of the info and put it into some computer and came back with a 7 page breakdown which basically said that I have great flexibility and strength and not-so-great aerobic fitness and body composition. So basically I'm strong and bendy...and also fluffy and out of breath. Swell. I take the same test again in three months and I guarantee the results will improve. If I'm going to have my flesh violently pinched again there is for-effing-sure going to be less of it.

Thank the good lord that my dinner was so yummy (and rather healthy) and "Glee" was so glorious. Nearly made me forget about the welts all over my fluff-tastic body.

Slowly Losing My Mind

I've spent the last two days at the new house getting things ready before the big move on Saturday. Tuesday, my sisters and their boyfriends came over and helped me paint which was a huge help. We managed to get the horrible pink and red walls (uh, they were SO bad!) covered with a lovely, more neutral shade. The bad part was, we had to clean for nearly 3 hours to get all of the grime off the floors and walls. I evidently bought a house from the filthiest couple on the planet. The hardwoods had so much junk on them and the walls had a layer of...I don't even know the word...dust/dog hair/dirt/bleeeeeeeeeeeech that we spent forever just wiping them down. Also, the world's dirtiest couple took the shower head in the bathroom. If the phrase you're uttering right now is "WTF?" well then you and I are on the same page. And I won't even tell you how bad the kitchen was because it would only give you nightmares. Thankfully I have a wonderful family who has continued to help out despite my several breakdowns. Here are the following things that have sent me into a tailsping in the last couple of days...

1. General unsanitary condition new house was in upon my arrival.

2. Picking paint colors for the bedrooms.

3. Finding out that the house doesn't have a 220 line in the basement for my electric dryer so I either have to a) buy a gas dryer or b) have a new line run.

4. Giant hole in the fence that allows neighbors tiny dog to come over in my yard and relieve himeself whenever he needs to.

5. Busted p-trap under the kitchen sink that caused lots of water to spray all over the damn place.

6. Ants. Lots of 'em.

7. When I spilled a great deal of paint on the hardwoods.

8. Barley getting out of the backyard and doing a tour of North Denver last night.

So the last one put me in such a state of panic that I was driving around in tears asking people if they'd seen a brown dog. Acutally, I was yelling it out the window while bawling hysterically. Thankfully, my aunt and uncle came over to aid in the search and they found him a few blocks away, romping in an alley. I was so happy to see him that I only called him a rat bastard twice. And then I hugged him and cried into his brown fur. It was all very touching.

So now I have to run up to Home Depot and pick up more paint because despite the fact that the paint guy assured me that one gallon would cover the room when I gave him the dimensions, it in fact, did not. And later today I will deal with Comcast and the moving of the cable, phone and internet. That should be one hell of a good time.

Perhaps the next time you hear from me it will be of a happier nature...the liquor cabinet should be unpacked by then.

This Just In

Last weekend I got called "ma'am" by some pimple-faced teenager at Safeway.

After playing golf for two days, my back was sore for the following four.

I fell asleep on the couch last night at 8pm.

And today I spent 20 minutes trying to figure out which eye cream would best combat the new line I discovered this morning while applying mascara.

It would appear I've suddenly become old.

It blows.

She's Alive!

Hi there.

Remember me?

Quick refresh: Colorado girl. Loves baseball. Hates chocolate. Hearts Josh Jackson. Used to blog rather often but has become one of those annoying bloggers who never writes anymore.

Yep, that's me.

Let me say this: I don't care for January. Never have, really. And it's not like I ever had anything bad happen to me during this month, I just don't like it. There's the post-holidays blues, which I always seem to get. There's the cold, dreary weather. There's the dry skin from being stuck indoors with no humidity. There's the pale skin, because by January any sun from summer is totally gone. January is usually about the time I get sick and tired of wool sweaters, boots, mittens and heavy coats. I rarely have big, fun things planned in January because I'm broke from the holidays and no one wants to do too much because, damn, didn't we just spend the previous two months having plans every second of every day? So when January rolls around, it's as though I transform into Eeyore. There's also some stuff going on that's just too hard for me to talk about right now so I've been keeping to myself lately. Anyway, no one wants to read about my tales of woe day in and day out so I thought, "Best not to burden them with your annual January doldrums."

So see, I was not writing to spare you all the agony of my woe-is-me bullshit.

That being said, there has been quite a bit that's gone on this month that I want to write about so if anyone is still here reading, go ahead and vote for one of the following...

1. The Godfather got married.
2. KC Dates: Kitten or Cougar?
3. The night I was accused of trying to steal a husband...because I was standing next to him.
4. 2008 Resolutions

Alright, that gives me enough material to write about until January is over. Perhaps by then the funk will have lifted and I'll be back into the swing of things.

I will say there has been one thing that has, without fail, made me feel better every time I watch it. Want to share my joy? Go here. How I do love CAKE...

Call Betty Ford

I went skiing a few days after Christmas which was awesome because the snow was great. It was fairly cold and windy in the morning which left some ice patches in certain areas. Being the ever graceful girl that I am, I located one of those patches and wiped out in a most spectacular fashion. I wasn't hurt at all, other than my ego, and continued to ski. Two days later I was a little sore but nothing out of the ordinary so I took down all of my Christmas stuff and when taking it all down to the basement, got a wild hair to reorganize my storage room. This meant moving a ton of boxes and other assorted crap. When I crawled into bed that night I noticed that my left shoulder was really sore. The following day, my right shoulder began hurting and when I woke up yesterday morning, the right side was so sore I started crying in the shower when I tried to wash my hair because lifting my arms up to lather hurt so much. I went to work in agony and ended up making a quick trip to my doctor to get something for the pain. I don't like taking pills at all so you know it had to be bad if I went to the doctor voluntarily. She told me to alternate heating it and icing it and gave me a prescription for a muscle relaxant. I finished up my day, got a massage and headed home to take my drugs. Since I'm a light weight when it comes to meds, my doctor told me just take half the first night. So I had dinner and took half a pill. I waited 20 minutes and didn't feel much change so I decided to take the other half. I sat down to watch tv and 10 minutes later my entire body felt like jello. I assume that was when the first half hit my system. Twenty minutes later, I could barely climb the stairs to my bedroom. I'm pretty sure that's when the second half hit my system. I was cracking up while I washed my face because my cheeks and lips felt so smooshy. I kept pushing on my lips with my index finger thinking, "This is your brain on drugs" and then giggling uncontrolably. I was half-tempted to blog about the whole thing right then and there but I was worried I would slide out of my chair into a pool on the floor. So I climbed into bed at 10pm and didn't wake until 7am. I'm still a little sore today but I couldn't tell you the last time I slept nine hours IN A ROW. I feel like a new woman today so hooray for drugs!

Sidebar: If they ever make a True Hollywood Story about my life, this will be the part where the music becomes quite dramatic and the voiceover says, "...though never one for pills, Kendra decided to take one to help with a skiing injury. And it all went downhill from there." And the voiceover will put special emphasis on the word "downhill" so everyone gets the double entendre.

Turning it Around

I had a hard day. The Workplace is making me a little crazy as of late and Friday just about pushed me over the edge. Today wasn't much better. (Thank God there was a fantastic weekend squeezed in between those two craptastic days.) At 4pm I'd decided I'd had enough fun so I left and went to the gym. I didn't feel like working out at all but according to my trainer, that's exactly when you're supposed to. (And it's when he spews such crap that I spend less time thinking about his incredible abs and more time wanting to kick him in the shins.) So I begrudingly stepped onto the treadmill for a quick run. I'm not really sure what was going on today but I ran like it was my job. Five minutes in, I'd found a great pace and I felt fantastic. I threw together a new playlist on the old iPod this weekend and it is my new favorite for running. (Will post it soon because seriously, it's the best.) Anyway, I did four and a half miles like it was nothing and then did yoga for a little while. All hopped up on endorphins, I came home and took The Hottest Shower Known to Man. I'm a big fan of long showers and this was one for the record books. I then came downstairs to a meal I didn't have to prepare and enjoyed the hell out of that along with some really great wine. The brown dog got a quick walk (it's cold and dark!) around the block before curling up on the couch under a thick chenille blanket. And if I hadn't already kicked this bad day in the ass, I managed to catch an episode of The Daily Show. Sure, it was a rerun but I didn't care. My love for Jon Stewart is limitless and after a hard day, a little Stewart goes a long way. I love when he can't stop from laughing at himself. I love his sarcasm. I love the grey that started at his temples but has lately been taking over. I love his R.Kelly impersonator. And so now I'm off to bed before midnight which is mostly unheard of in these parts since I'm mostly a night owl. I'm not confident tomorrow will be much better than today but if it ends the same way, I'll be alright.

The One Where I Got Shot

Usually, autumn in Denver goes pretty quickly. It seems like we'll have a few days of golden leaves and chilly weather and then we're thrown quickly into winter.

Not so this year.

We've had weeks of mild temps and crunchy leaves under foot when I go running and nights when I can put another blanket on the bed. But still no socks to bed because I can't imagine much worse than socks in bed. Except if I were wearing socks to bed while someone was touching my neck...and forcing me to eat chocolate. Anyway, fall has stuck around for a long time this year and I'm enjoying it in a big way. We've only had snow once so far and I was out of town for it so in my head, we haven't had any at all. There was a little frost outside when I headed out to the gym at 5am today. I took my winter clothes out of the guest room closet and pulled on a thick cable knit sweater for work. And tonight I came home and made pasta and fresh marinara. I'm not going to lie, it was divine. There was red wine and garlic bread too because seriously, what's the point of pasta without those accessories? And if the local forecasters are to be trusted, this weekend is going to be spectacular which means I will be cooking and hiking and taking the brown dog for long walks...oh, and looking at this view from my porch:

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In other news, I'd like to tell you about my trip to Walgreens last night. If you're still conscious after that riveting sentence, here comes the story...

I stopped in to pick up a couple of things including some Halloween candy because I take procrastination very seriously and therefore do not purchase the candy until 7:20pm on the 31st. So I'm standing in the Halloween section trying to pick out some candy when he approached. He was most certainly intoxicated, stood about two feet from me and surveyed the candy before he uttered, "Kinda waited til the last minute to get your candy, didn't ya? Heh, heh, heh." And I kind of hoped if I stood very still and willed it enough, I could just disappear into thin air. It didn't happen so I just smiled and said, "Yep, sure did" because I am nothing if not a clever conversationalist. And then he leaned across me like he was going for a bag of candy and then he...oh dear baby Moses I can barely say it because I still feel dirty...then...he smelled me. He took a really deep whiff of the air about 2 inches from my hair and said, "You sure smell good." And I furrowed my brow trying desperately to think of a way to get myself out of this pickle but I was frozen with fear and just stood there clutching a bag of Tootsie Rolls. And because I'm a nice girl (mostly) I did the only thing I could think of when given a compliment...I said thanks and hauled my cookies to the checkout. A few moments later, Drunky McSnifferson got in line behind me. He continued to mumble stuff while I was talking ot the cashier. A guy at the next checkout line started arguing about having to show i.d. when buying cigarettes so I was watching all that go down when I heard the cashier in my aisle ask me to hit the Accept button on the credit card thingamajig. I guess she had said it once already while I was watching the cigarette guy because all the sudden the drunk guy says, "Don't bother talking to her. She'll just ignore you because she's a bitch." And as I walked out, I promised myself that the next time a drunk guy in Walgreens sniffs my hair I'm gonna kick him in the nuts because at least then I'll earn the bitch title.

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I was tricked into getting a flu shot today. The Workplace offers free flu shots every year and I never go because I'm not so good with the shots. Our staff meeting ended around noon and a few of the guys decided to grab burritos at Chipotle. Knowing my love of the chicken burrito bowl, they asked me to join them. They mentioned that we needed to make a quick stop but I didn't pay attention because I was hungry and my brain had focused primarily on food. Like a lamb to the slaughter, I followed those deceiving bastards right into the conference room where the shots were being administered. I walked in just in time to see a needle being jammed into a woman's arm. I wanted to walk out but the coworkers made it impossible so I decided to suck it up and get the damn shot. It wasn't that bad but my arm is a little sore. And because no one who knows me will believe that I voluntarily let a needle puncture my skin, I give you photographic proof....

I look like an extra from "Fight Club", I know.

Swept Away

Had the Sox been playing anyone else, I would be a happy girl this morning. *sigh*

Torn Between Two Lovers

There is a pot of green chili on the stove and a loaf of banana bread in the oven. As soon as it starts getting dark earlier and the leaves are falling and the temperature drops below 50 degrees, I want to cook comfort food. The green chili is for our office Halloween potluck tomorrow. I've been at the Workplace for almost eight years and this is the first year I'm not dressing up for the party. It kind of snuck up on me this year and between my long weekend last week and the sucker punch this week turned out to be, I just didn't have time to put anything together. It's too bad because there are always good prizes for best costume. But short of them coming up with World Series tickets as prizes, my lazy ass didn't have the energy to put anything together.

And speaking of the Series, I'd like to issue a cease and desist order to all of the people who have called, emailed, text messaged, smoke signaled, sent a carrier pigeon, etc to express their (mean, cruel) opinions about the Rockies loss last night...and tonight. It's sort of an odd feeling because I love me some Red Sox but as a true Colorado girl, I feel the need to root for the Rockies. I feel sort of naughty when I root for either one...like I'm cheating on the other. It always seemed safe to like both of them because one was NL and one was AL and they almost never play eachother. But now I feel conflicted. I mean, I've been to more Rockies games than I could ever begin to count. But my first trip to Fenway to see a Sox game (against the stupid Yankees, no less) was like a religious experience. And the Red Sox have won a series in my lifetime so I can scratch that off my list of things I want to see before I die. But the Rockies winning a World Series? Not even something that I thought about putting on the list because it just never seemed possible. As for the two losses? Well, I do remember a certain team in 2004 that was down three games in the AL playoffs when low and behold, they went on to one of the greatest comebacks in the history of baseball...or any other sport for that matter. So yes, I still believe the Rockies could win the whole damn thing.

And on a totally unrelated note, I sort of forgot to tell you one of the best stories from last weekend. And after the epic post I wrote about the weekend, I know that the mind just REELS at the idea that I left one tiny little thing out, but I did.

On the way to Meghan and Tim's house Thursday night, Meghan informed me that they had a new addition to their family. Like a little kid, I shrieked in delight and said, "A puppy! You got a puppy!" And Meghan laughed a little and said, "Um, no. Not exactly. We got a Roomba!" And I sat in the backseat for a minute trying to figure out if that was some exotic pet like a llama or an alpaca. And then it hit me. She was talking about a Roomba....

So as we sat around chatting that night, I asked Tim to demostrate the Roomba. And Meghan just kind of rolled her eyes and laughed as Tim watched intently as it covered every square inch of the living room. Tim looked over at me and said, "Meghan didn't want it at first but she finally agreed." And I burst out laughing because the only thing I could think was that perhaps Meghan thought Tim said he wanted to get this...(be careful of the volume if you're at work)

Solo

Some girls aren't good at it but I am. I don't mean to sound full of myself but I know I can hold my own with the best of them. But even those of us who excel at it can have an off night...

It was almost 11pm last night when I put down the book, turned off the bedside lamp and snuggled into bed. It was raining lightly and I had opened the windows and turned off the A/C. I had just dozed off when my entire bedroom lit up. I opened my eyes and my room was dark again but a split second later the thunder rattled my entire house. Barley jumped out of his bed and paced the floor. A second after that, another enormous bolt of lightning and deafening thunder. And it went on and on. I closed the windows but that didn't help much. Though I usually love thunderstorms, I couldn't seem to find any affection for the one rumbling around my neighborhood last night. I realize how lame I'm about to sound but it actually scared the shit out of me. It got so bad that I broke one of my cardinal rules - I let Barley sleep in bed with me. Well aware that he is not allowed on my bed, it took several minutes to convince him that it was ok to jump up and join me. And even after several, "It's ok buddy" comments he still sat at the edge looking rather uncomfortable like he was expecting to get the boot at any moment. I reached over and scratched behind his ear, thankful that he was close by.

That's the thing about me - I'm usually good at being alone. I know people who can't be alone, who always have to have someone, anyone, in their lives. Those are the people who can't sleep alone either. But that's never been me. Sure, after my big break-up a few years ago, the sleeping alone thing took some getting used to. But after a few months, I no longer had a "side of the bed" and these days I relish taking up as much space as possible, sleeping diagonally across the bed. I guess that's what made last night so hard. I desperately wanted to have someone next to me. I wanted to be able to curl up and bury my head in his chest. And it would be ok if he made fun of me a bit for being such a wimp so long as he was doing it while his arms were wrapped around me. To make matters worse, I wasn't even wanting a specific "he" to be there because there is no specific "he" at this specific time. And just typing all of this makes me want to vomit a little because it seems so weak and pathetic and sad.

And I'm looking out the window right now at more dark clouds closing in and I think to myself, I don't want another night of this. And if you asked me if I meant the storms or being alone, I'd answer yes.

Talk to the Good Ear

So despite the fact that I'm almost thirty (gulp) one, I somehow managed to get an ear infection. For some reason, I always think of ear infections as a child's illness and therefore, I should be exempt. And I really think I should be exempt from any and all illnesses that occur when it's nearly 100 degrees outside. I went to the pharmacy after my doctor appointment this morning and as I walked outside at 10am it was already almost 90. I usually don't mind the heat but with the fever I had, it felt like my whole body was cooking...especially when I got into my black car. Stupid black car.

I've been bored out of my gourd at home today. When I wasn't sleeping I managed to catch up on some Days of our Lives. I don't watch the show regularly but I did catch a few episodes when I was on vacation at Christmas and it turns out that I haven't really missed much in the last six months. I read my usual blogs but not nearly enough people updated today so that was a bust. I made an attempt to organize my photos on-line in albums but I got lazy. I read a few magazines I picked up at Walgreens while waiting for my rx. I painted my nails (Coney Island Cotton Candy by OPI) and gave myself a facial (Kiehl's Rare-Earth Face Masque). And I woke up from another nap in time for Oprah. Food doesn't sound all that appealing (an excellent indicator that I am, in fact, sick, as food ALWAYS sounds appealing to me). However, I did manage to have a delicious snack - a bowlful of cherries and iced Pellegrino. I'm craving some Whole Foods chicken noodle soup but it is entirely too hot outside for that. So I'll just sit around complaining about my lot in life to you poor people. Anyone have suggestions for comfort food that is suitable for consumption in Sahara-like conditions?

In happier news (see, I'm not all doom and gloom today) it appears that I've been lied to. It wouldn't seem that being lied to would fall into the "happier news" category but it does. I was weighed at the doctor's this morning and guess what. I actually weigh four pounds less than what my scale at home says. I trust the doctors office scale much more than my own. My reasons for this are threefold 1) they're scale probably cost more than my $10 clearance find at Target 2) it's the doctors job to be right on these things 3) the four pounds were totally in my favor. I know four pounds doesn't seem like a big deal but for a girl who has been working really hard to take better care of herself, it's a big damn deal. Truth be told, I never really cared what the scale said so long as I liked what I saw when I looked in the mirror. But I must admit, it is quite gratifying seeing that number getting smaller. And you know what? I bet when I'm done blowing all of this snot out of my head, I could be down another pound! Over-share? Sorry. Blame the cold medicine.