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.

Awkward Pharmaceutical Moments

So I ran into Walgreens today to pick up a few things including Emergen-C. I've been so paranoid about getting sick before vacation that I thought I'd get some and load up. I wandered the aisles looking but couldn't find it anywhere. After five minutes of searching, I walked back to the pharmacy to ask if they stocked it.

"Oh yes, we carry it," the pharmacist whispered. "I'll just need your driver's licence."

A bit confused I just stood there for a moment and then fished around my purse to retrieve my licence. I concluded that Emergen-C must have an ingredient that was critical in meth formulas and so like many cold medicines it had been moved behind the counter and purchases were tracked via driver's license. (Sidebar: If anyone ever had concerns that I would try to run a meth lab I'm quite certain that last line squelched any worries.) Anyway, I as I looked up with my license in hand I saw the pharmacist holding this...

I laughed a little and repeated the word "Emergen-C" again. The pharmacist realized her mistake and with a look of total horror on her face began to apologize for the misunderstanding.

"That's ok. But the only thing I really need to prevent right now is a cold."

I giggled the whole way home.

Oh, the Oddities

So there was full moon this week and I think that must explain the strange things going on as of late. Ok, so some of this stuff happened prior to the full moon but I'll blame the moon none the less.

Ok, so I haven't slept much since moving into the new house. As some of you know, I'm not a great sleeper anyway and being in a new place doesn't help. So I'm averaging about 4 hours a night these days. I'm hoping as I get more comfortable at the house, the hours will increase. Anyway, I was actually asleep one night around 3am when I heard something. I wasn't sure what it was but I knew I wasn't imagining it because Barley was awake, ears perked and growling. Before I could get out of bed there was pounding on my front door. I damn near jumped out of my skin and Barley went crazy and took off for the front door. The pounding on the door stopped immediately as I heard a mans voice yell, "What the fuck?" Barley continued to bark and claw at the front door and I let him as I tried to decide if I needed to call 911. Of course I couldn't find my phone so I stood there thinking I was going to be killed. I crept into the the guestroom which has a window off the front porch and could hear the guy talking on his phone. And it went a little something like this: "Fuck dude, I don't know. I took a cab home and tried to get in my house but I can't. And there's a big ass dog in there and I don't have a dog. I don't think this is my house. (Insert a few moments of silence as he sorts it all out.) Dude, I'm not even on my own fucking street! I don't know where I am and the fucking cab left. Fuck man, come get me....I just told you I don't know where I am! When will you be here?!" And then he stumbled off my porch. Barley was still going nuts and since he was off the porch I decided it was safe to sneak a peak out the window. I catch a glimpse of what appeared to be a 20-something guy stumbling down the street, completely lost and trying to dial his phone. I never heard anything more from him...and I never fell back asleep. Jackass.

And then last weekend I was having dinner at Le Central with my gay boyfriend when a girl at a table behind us fell out of her chair onto the floor. The girl she was sitting with understandably freaked out and tried to help her friend. There was a table of four men, probably in their 40's, sitting next to the girl and her friend. The men, seeing the commotion made no effort to help at all. In fact, the girl hit the floor right next to one guy's chair and he simply looked at her down on the floor and scootched (is that a real word?) his chair over a few inches and kept talking to the other guys. The girl's friend then yelled that she wasn't breathing so I jumped up and went over to her. I'm CPR certified and though I've never had to do it in real life I thought maybe I could help. Gay boyfriend, also certified came over as well and as we rolled her over onto her back, she opened her eyes and came to. Turns out, she had passed out and was relatively ok, minus the huge bump on her forehead where she hit the floor. We had her lay there for a minute and as she did I looked around and realized no one else was helping or doing anything at all. One girl did manage set down her wine and call 911 but that was it. I was kinda stunned. Having dealt with my own Passing Out at a Restaurant situation where there were almost too many people helping, I couldn't believe that no one did anything. We were in a lovely french restaurant with lots of people paying good money for a meal. I passed out in a cheap Chinese restaurant where damn near everyone in there tried to help pull my face out of my wonton soup. The lesson here: if you're going to had a medical crisis at a restaurant, make it a cheap one; people at fancy restaurants are a-holes who wouldn't put down their forks to help.

And then the other night I was at home getting ready for bed when another situation arose. I had made some tea (Sleeptime tea, in an effort to help me sleep) and was walking of the kitchen when I smelled gas. At first I thought it was just because I'd used the stove but a few minutes later I could still smell it. I had smelled it faintly once or twice before but having never had a gas stove before, I figured it was nothing. After talking to a friend, she assured me it was not normal and told me I needed to called the gas company to have them check it out. It was 10:30pm but I called anyway and they said they would send someone out immediately. Apparently, the word "immediately" as defined by Exel energy is somewhere in the ballpark of 2 hours. Anyway, the guy showed up and pulled out this detector thingamajig and stuck it near the stove. The thing went bat-shit crazy and the guy looked up at me and said, "Oh yeah, you got a gas leak." He pulled the stove away from the wall, took one look at the line and said, "Well here's your problem." And then he went on to explain something about a hose and an attachment that wasn't there and how it really needed to be there and who did I have install this thing because they did a piss-poor job. So after the lecture was finished he fixed what needed to be fixed and left around 1am. He also told me that if I ever smelled gas again, no matter how faint, I should call immediately. "We'd rather come out and find out it was nothing than have your house blown to the other side of town." Such comforting words. So the next morning after letting Barley out the back door I thought I smelled gas again. So I called again. And they sent someone out again. Thankfully, they didn't detect anything but I'm pretty sure I'm paranoid now because I'm always thinking I can smell gas. But hey, at least my house hasn't blown to the other side of town.

Alert the Media

It's 10:06pm and I am going to bed. I intended to sleep until at least 6am. That is 8 hours, people.

Can't. Friggin. Wait.

Night, night.

This Bad Decision Brought to you by the Letters K & C

I'm evidently hell bent on losing every reader I have by only posting once in a blue moon. The funny thing is, I get annoyed with the bloggers I read daily who go a while without posting. And yet I often leave Just Me unattended for weeks at a time. Hypocrisy, thy name is Kendra.

So let's see, what to bring you up to speed on? Well first, would have to be my trip to NYC. Cheryl and I jumped on planes from our respective cities and met up with Marissa in New York. We had such a great time and right about here is where I would post picture after picture but guess what? My effing camera is holding the pics hostage and will not download them to my computer. It's a shame too as there are some really great photos. I had hopes of taking the memory card somewhere this weekend and having the pictures put on a disk but I didn't get around to it. But the trip was awesome and we looked cute the entire time. You'll just have to take my word for it. Or you can make your way over to Cheryl's site and see her pics there. Or you can wait for me to get around to getting mine downloaded. I'm hoping it happens shortly before hell freezes over but let's not hold our collective breath, ok?

In other news, I've been making some bad decisions when it comes to men lately. Ok, so just one man, but he if were a university, I would be majoring in Poor Choices. He is as much of a smartass as myself which is always so attractive to me; however, I usually like the affectionate guy, the guy who gives good hugs and touches alot and this guy is not that guy. Which is a good thing because it made it quite easy to resist any charms he may have because I always assume that if someone isn't as tactile as myself, they must not like me. So thing were fine until...he touched my hair. I like to think of myself as a pretty strong woman but I turn to mush when a man plays with my hair. (Sidebar: In my humble opinion, all men should do three things - without fail - to ensure a happy woman. Thing #1 - Focus on the hair. Duh, I just told you that. Thing #2 - Put your hands on a woman's face when you kiss her. This must be done the right way: the thumbs should be in front of the ear and the other four digits wrapping around the neck. Then pull her in. This raises the Hot Quotient of said kiss, thus exponentially raising the possibility of other activities. And finally, Thing #3 - Place your hand on the small of a woman's back when your walking out of a restaurant or bar...or wherever. It's the non-verbal way of saying "I got your back". And chicks totally dig it. Whew. It's exhausting sharing all of this knowledge. Tune in next week for Three Things a Man Should NEVER Do...) Anywho, there was some hair touchage and he somehow figured out that I enjoy it a great deal. It could have been the heavy sighs or the purring or the drool that began to form at the corners of my mouth that gave it away. Hard telling how he cracked the code. And this lead to...nothing. Seriously, nothing happened. Ok, so we curled up and talked all night and laughed but nothing else. The whole night was rated PG. So you might be wondering why I look at this as a bad decision since it was all PG and you're thinking most of your bad decisions have been rated R (maybe even NC-17 for some of you. I'm not naming any names...cough, cough, Woodrow cough, hack, cough.) But if I told you the full story, the whole enchilada, you would understand. And then you'd probably roll your eyes and sigh a little and be all Hey Kendra, this is a bad idea. And I would be all, I know, I know. And you would be all, I thought you weren't going to date guys like this anymore. And I would be all, OK, I get it. And you would be all, I'm not kidding, this won't end well. And I would get pissed and be all, DON'T JUDGE ME! You're not the boss of me! And then I'd go up to my room and slam the door and you'd sigh that exhausted sigh and say something about how stubborn I am and how I always have to learn the hard way. And I'd blog about how I CAN handle the situation...and about how parents just don't understand. Or something. Anyway, stay tuned for imminent doom. At least it will give me something to write about, right?

Lately

Reading: Atonement. I know a ton of people who love this book but I have to be honest, I'm having a hell of a time getting into it.

Eating: So addicted to Dryer's Slow Churn ice cream. I made sweet, sweet love to a scoop of butter pecan a little while ago. Could have done more damage but I held back.

Exercise: Didn't gain a pound over the holidays but all the travel in January and early February left me eating and drinking too much. I managed to put on six pounds in two months and it all went straight to my ass - practically creating a whole 'nother ass. So I took both of my asses to the gym and have managed to take most of it off. But damn it sure goes on a lot easier than it comes off. I'm sure it would go faster if I wasn't free-basing the Slow Churn.

Enjoying: My new bed. I treated myself to the best bed in the whole wide world. Every time I climb into it, there are white lights and angels singing. It has this insane 20" mattress with a pillow top that feels like heaven. Just bought new sheets, comforter, duvet, and shams. I hemmoraged money while getting it all but lord have mercy, it is so worth it.

Laughing about: Saturday night with Beth, Karen and Amber. While sitting at Baker Street Pub, Amber caught a glimpse of Mr. D, a coach and teacher from our high school. He was far too hot to be a teacher and the years have been good to him because he still looks better than any teacher should. Having a few drinks and no fear, our dear Beth got up to say hi. She may have invited him to our table but I couldn't say for sure as I was too busy concentrating on his ass and oh my god, Mr. D is still so hot. And then I swooned a little.

Thinking about: Greece. I want to go there right this second. Even had a dream about it the other night. Would book a ticket right now if the dollar wasn't as weak as a newborn kitten. Why must the economy blow goats right now?

Spending time with: A new group of friends. I've met some really cool people lately and have been having such a good time getting to know them. I have been so bored with my life recently but lately I have all of these plans - skiing, happy hour, dinners, trivia nights, hikes - and the boredom is quickly disappearing.

Loving: My family. Ok, so I've always loved my family but Saturday as we were all together for a bar-b-que I was so happy I could have burst. At one point, I stood in the corner of a very crowded kitchen with a glass of ice tea and just watched. People were getting plates and food covered every inch of counter space. It was loud, as we are not a quite group by any means and it was crowded, as we migrated to the kitchen and back deck for lunch. People were laughing and playing with babies and taking pictures and planning the next get together. And I stood there watching all 5 kajillion of us thinking to myself how lucky I am to be a part of them.

Listening to:
Jason Mraz, "I'm Yours"

Long, Hard Commute

I am spoiled by my daily commute. If I time it right, I can be to my office in 12 minutes. It's a piece of cake drive and it also offers a gorgeous view of the foothills and mountains. At least once a day I think to myself how lucky I am that a) I never have to sit in traffic and b) I get awesome scenery while I drive. Today, however, I had a meeting way on the other side of town. I didn't have to be there until noon so traffic on the way there was nothing but I knew the ride home would be bad at 5pm. So a few of us decided to grab a quick drink and some apps while waiting for rush hour to die down.

I walked out to my car around 6:30pm and jumped on 285 heading west to go home. Five minutes into my drive I noticed the car in front of me seemed to be swerving a little. It got better for a minute and then began to get much worse. At one point, he almost hit guardrail. I started to get a little nervous but he soon seemed to regain control and for a few miles was totally fine. Just as I relaxed he drifted toward the right and I noticed his head appeared to be resting on the back of the headrest like he'd passed out. He suddenly sat up and jerked the car back between the lines. Officially freaked out and certain that Swervey McAllovertheroad was drunk, I reached for my cell to call the cops.

I pushed 9 and 1, and was getting ready to hit the 1 again when I saw something peculiar. The headlights of my Jeep were illuminating the front seat of his car so it made it very easy to see what was causing the erratic driving - a female head raised up from his lap. She proceeded to wipe off her mouth (because clearly, she's a woman of good breeding) and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.

I laughed so hard I almost drove off the road.

All Random, All the Time

Here's the thing - I enjoy getting text messages but I kind of hate sending them. It seems to take a long time and I get bored writing back. And people tell me to use the predictive text and I'm all, "The what?" And they're all, "Duh. Predictive text." And then I smile and nod like I know what they're talking about and I go back to taking ten minutes to write a message like I'll meet you at Sushi Hai at 8pm. But what I hate most of all about sending text messages is writing out a message and then accidently sending it to the wrong person. I mean, the really wrong person. And then trying to explain the message you just sent. I'm speaking hypothetically, of course...

In other news, I'm done traveling...at least for the next two weeks. After three trips in four weeks, I'm tuckered out. First was the mid-west, then back east and then down south last week. What there was too much of: fried food, alcohol, scratchy hotel towels, late nights, sneezey airplane passengers. What there was not enough of: sleep, excercise, seeing the brown dog. Good trips but it's been so nice being home. Anyone who has ever stayed at my house will tell you there are two things that are always high end under my roof - bedding and towels. I have yet to find a hotel that has the kind of sheets and towels I like. And I'm not one of those people who puts the cheap stuff in the guest room and bathroom. It's good stuff in there too. I want my guests to be happy. I do wish the hotel industry would share my philosophy on linens. *sigh* Anyway, I do enjoy being home.

One of my New Years Resolutions was to get rid of junk I don't need. I have attacked this resolution with great enthusiasm and each Thursday is an adventure getting all the trash to the curb in the morning because after 31 years of life, I have a TON of junk I don't need. I still have a long way to go but I must say, it feels damn good to unload all this stuff. I've spent most of my life as a pack rat, assuming that everything will one day have a special purpose and therefore could not be thrown out. But I'm checked most of my sentimentality at the door and have been ruthless in my purging. It's been fun going through some of the stuff like old letters from old boyfriends and photos from college (a few of which I still saved because come on! Once a pack rat, always a little pack rat left. Or something...) Anyway, it feels good and parts of my house look much bigger with so much stuff gone. I've decided that clearing clutter is my new favorite pasttime.

Wow. That last line was so pathetic.

I may need a date.

Oh wait, I had one! He is a tall drink of water (6'5"!) and makes me laugh. Good and good. We'll see what happens...

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.

Tastes Like Chicken

And all this time I thought love was a bit more complex...

...but you have to respect the simple wisdom of a fortune cookie.

Bottled Goodness

After five days of feeling like absolute crap, I gave up on healing myself and went to the doctor yesterday afternoon. After ruling out strep and bronchitis my doctor decided I just had a really bad cold. A cold so bad that I haven't slept soundly since Thursday night because I'm either coughing or can't breathe very well or up to pee because all I do all day is drink tea.

"I'll give you something that will help with the cough," she said as she wrote the prescription, "and it'll help with the sleep as well."

She also said I needed to get Mucinex and a nasal flush kit. So I left the doctor's office and headed to Walgreens. I had a twenty minute wait for my prescription so I shuffled around looking for more cough drops, Puffs Plus, magazines and honey for my tea. They finally called my name and I hauled my sick, exhausted cookies up to the pharmacy. There was a line because evidently the whole free world had meds to pick up at 2:15pm on a Tuesday. I got to the front of the line and the pharmacist asked my name. I tried to answer but after all the coughing, my voice isn't great so I just squeaked out some sad noise. Clearly irritated by my inability to articulate anything at all, he asked again only this time he raised his voice and spoke very slowly. I wanted to cry. Let's review the scene, shall we? I felt and looked like death warmed over. I was standing there with a basket filled with Ricola, UsWeekly, Mucinex and a nasal flush kit, feeling about as low as a girl can feel. And now I had some condescending jackass talking loud and slow. So yeah, I wanted to cry. But I didn't. Instead I smiled, gave him my name and pointed to my ear.

"These work," I squeaked out.

"This doesn't work," I said as I pointed to my throat.

"Thus, my trip here for that," as I pointed to the prescription.

Sure, my voice broke at the end like Peter's in the puberty episode of The Brady Bunch but I think I got my point across. As I walked away some little old man gave me a wink and said, "Give 'em hell sweetheart."

The good news is that the cough medicine is awesome. It's bottled goodness, is what it is. I took some last night around 10pm and woke up at 8am. And I didn't wake up once during the night. I can't tell you the last time I slept for ten hours but I can tell you that I'm looking forward to doing it again tonight.

My plan is to go to work tomorrow which I'm pretty thrilled about because if I have to spend one more day at home I will lose my marbles. Missing work is no fun when I can't do anything. No taking Brown to the park, no cooking, no long runs, etc. I did put on jeans and a sweater today. Oh and I blow-dried my hair totally which takes forever but it looks so shiny and straight. That's about as much as I've accomplished in the last five days.

Also, I owe a huge thanks/apology to all the people who put up with my calls and emails and IM's over the last few days. So bored at home, I began begging people to entertain me (because I ain't too proud to beg). A few good sports were kind enough to make book and movie recommendations as well as send me funny stuff to watch on YouTube and good sites to read. And one kind and utterly charming individual sent me an iTunes gift certificate to help pass the time. I bought some music and "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" which, when on cold medicine that leaves you with the ability to feel your hair growing, is fantastic.

You're A Mean One Mr. Grinch.

Top Ten Excuses for the Absence

10) I was in a coma.
9) I was trapped under something heavy and unable to get to my computer.
8) I was injured in a horrible spelunking accident in which all of my fingers were broken.
7) The work project took up every spare second of my life.
6) When said project was done (and a big, fat success by the way) I got really busy celebrating.
5) A new and welcomed development...a very funny man who helped me keep my sanity the last few weeks. With a glance and a smile across a crowded room Wednesday night he lowered my blood pressure by 20 points.
4) Cooking club Monday night left me in a food coma for several days. Once again, we made enough food for 40 people and there were only eight of us there.
3) Going out last night and not getting home until 4:30am left me exhausted.
2) So moved by the writers' strike in Hollywood, I decided to suspend production on Just Me in solidarity.
1) I am lazy.

So the Big Fat Work Project is over and it went even better than I could have imagined. I'm rewarding myself by working on Monday and then taking the rest of the week off. And it's shaping up to be a great week - I have a 90 minute massage tomorrow night; Christmas shopping on Tuesday; my sister, Kelsey gets home on Wednesday; Turkey Trot and lots of cooking and food on Thursday; and perhaps some skiing over the weekend. And perhaps I'll squeeze some writing in there as well.

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.

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)

My Own Biggest Fan

I've been working some really long hours the last few weeks. Part of my job lately requires me to be on the phone a lot. Like hour upon hour. I would have kicked ass at that part of the job when I was 14, but these days I'd rather make out with a rusty fish hook than be on the phone for an extended amount of time. I like talking to people but the phone just gets old after a while, you know? Anyway, the long hours and the constant chatting and oh by the way, my sleep has been a little wonky the last few days - well all of that has left me a bit punchy lately.

Exhibit A:
I was getting off yet another phone call today when my voice became less my own and more like that of a chain-smoking, gravel-gargling truck driver. I tried clearing my throat a few times but it didn't help much. I made myself a cup of tea and was headed back to get on another call when my co-worker, B, asked if I was ok.

"Yeah, just a little hoarse."

"Oh, ok."

"Like a pony."

"What?"

"I'm a little hoarse...like a pony. Get it?"

And then I dissolved into a fit of giggles that continued through most of my next call. For the rest of the day I have been overly amused with my pun, muttering the word "pony" and cracking up again and again.

Most of my team now thinks I've taken to drinking in the afternoon.

Just Like Forrest

It's 7:03am on a Friday and I'm blogging from my pj's. Gotta love vacation days. It's gorgeous here in Denver today and I thought about going to the gym but after looking outside, I've decided to go for a run at the greenbelt instead. I've been thinking about doing another race soon. I'll never be the best runner in the world but I can't think of anything that makes me feel better than crossing a finish line. (Ok, so I can think one or two other things that make me feel that good but good girls don't put that stuff out there on the interweb.) Anyway, I was running the trail in Golden the other day and I remembered the first race I did after the big break-up. When I started training for it I was totally out of shape and was sucking wind after one mile. But by the time race day came around, I did ok. I didn't take first place or break any records but I finished. It was only five miles but I can't even describe how fan-freaking-tastic it felt when I was done. I know it sounds kind of silly but I was so proud of myself. Beaming, really. Nothing makes you feel like a badass quite like doing the thing you thought you couldn't do.

And if you're wondering what's been on my iPod lately during aforementioned runs...well hit play on the video. God bless the Foo.

Anyway, after my run I'm planning on coffee, an omlette and the Today show. I've got a few things to do around the house before my visitor arrives. Weekend o' fun to include trip up the hill to see the aspens changing, Sushi Den, drinks, dancing, Sunday brunch, tomfoolery, ballyhoo, etc, etc. Cant' wait! And because I'm so predictable, there will be photos. I know, I know - you will all be on the edge of your seats waiting for those.

Come on Down

When I was a kid, my favorite thing about sick days was that one glorious hour of daytime television - "The Price is Right". I loved everything the show had to offer. I loved when they would call contestants down to play. I loved the person who always guessed one dollar more than the person before him. I loved the games like Hi-Lo and Cliffhangers (who didn't love the yodling mountain climber?) and I can't even begin to express my love for Plinko for fear my head would explode from the joy that game brought me. I loved the big wheel the contestants spun. And then there was the Showcase Showdown. The best part of it all was those few moments of anticipation before the contestants found out what prize they were playing for. You always knew it was going to be a good prize if Bob teased for a little while.

Bob Barker: So Joe, where are you from?

Contestant Joe: Minot, North Dakota

Bob: And what do you do in Minot, Joe?

Joe: I'm in college.

Bob: Oh, is that right?

Joe: Yep.

Bob: Bet the winter is tough in Minot, right Joe?

Joe: Oh yeah Bob, it gets pretty cold up there.

Bob: I bet. Well wouldn't it be nice to go to class next winter and stay warm in....

A BRAND NEW CAR?!?!

And then Joe would totally lose his shit because, hell yes it would be nice to stay warm in a brand new car! And the audience would be screaming and Joe would probably hug Bob really hard and Bob would be a little uncomfortable but make a joke about saving the hugs until after he won. And so Joe, if he was lucky, would play Plinko for the BRAND NEW CAR! and if he was really lucky, he'd win. And then he go bat-shit crazy and practically tackle Bob who again would laugh but deep down he wanted to beat Joe to a blood pulp with that long microphone he always held. But Joe would be so thrilled that he'd continue to jump around and hug Bob until they cut to commercial. And I would be in my living room screaming and jumping up and down for Joe because I couldn't imagine anything better than a BRAND NEW CAR!

There's a point to all of this, I swear.

Ok, so no one told me to "Come on Down!" and there was no Bob Barker and I didn't get to play Plinko and it certainly wasn't free but...

...guess who got herself a new car?

Happy & Blocked

Barley and I went for a run tonight and somewhere about 1/2 mile from home the rain started. At first it was pretty light but then it really started coming down. I looked like a drowned rat by the time I reached my front door and Barley smelled, shockingly, like wet dog. Despite all of that, I was a pretty happy girl when I got home. Endorphins? Nope. I was happy because I had put on the black tank top rather than the white one which meant I was not Kendra: West Side Floozy.

In other news, work is awesome. I moved to my new office last Friday and it went so smoothly it was hard to believe I was involved at all. Usually things like that are a comedy of errors but it was a piece of cake this time around. Also, the view from my new office is just perfect - straight out to Lookout Mountain. Oh and there's more! I'm a five minute walk to our fitness center where I'll be meeting with my new personal trainer next week. And for the cherry on top - the vending machine in the lunchroom has strawberry Pop-Tarts! This is big news for a couple of reasons 1) I love me some strawberry Pop-Tarts and 2) the vending machine at my old office had nothing but chocolate items with the exception of the always stale pretzels. Oh yeah, and the job itself is pretty great too.

And on a totally unrelated note, I've found myself with a nasty case of writer's block. I can't seem to sit down and write about anything lately. Sure, I've been posting but it's been mostly about trips or photos. When it comes to really writing about something, I've got nothing. You guys have any suggestions? Any burning questions? We've got to come up with something otherwise it's going to be more pictures of the brown dog or stories of grocery store humiliation.

Do you like run-on sentences and pickles? Then, oh boy, do I have a story for you!

I was totally craving a BLT for dinner tonight because as everyone knows, there simply isn't a better summer dinner than a BLT. Anyhoo, I was driving home and remembered that a few nights ago I'd gone on a bender with the mini kosher dill pickles and there were none at the house. This poses a problem because everyone knows that you can't have a BLT without a mini kosher dill....or eleven. Sooooo, I stopped by my neighborhood Safeway to secure the mkd's. I walked in and headed back to the refridgerated section where they keep the little guys. Normally, I don't care for the grocery store right after work because there are always a million people there and I am a grouchy old woman who doesn't like people, evidently. But I digress. Ok, so I grab the jar off the shelf and head toward the express lane. I'm about half way down the aisle when I notice several people with stuffed carts blocking the whole aisle. One guy is examining the frozen pizzas quite closely while another is stocking up on Hungry Man dinners. And just past those two was the lady who was driving her cart while trying to read the ads while asking her husband if they needed more Toaster Struedels. And so the three of them have their carts parked all caddywompass leaving no room for me to pass. See why I avoid the grocery store at this time of day? Again, I digress. Ok, so I politely say excuse me hoping one of them will move a cart just a smidgen and nobody even looks at me. I try again and still nothing. Here's the thing - keeping me from a meal is just plain dumb. You know those girls who are all, "Oh my gosh, it's 10pm and I totally forgot to eat today!" - well I am not one of them. In general, I eat about every three hours and I like it. So yes, being the party responsible for delaying my dinner is not good. But being the party responsible for keeping me from bacon? So bad. Oh look at that! I'm digressing again. Ok, so after asking politely not once but twice without so much as a glace in my general direction, I'm in a tiny huff. I turn on my heels and begin to head the other direction when I feel the jar slip. (Now, I'll need you all to use your imaginations for this next part because it all happened in slow motion.) I feel the jar slipping out of my left hand so I try to grab it with my right hand. In doing so, I manage to bobble it in the air for a minute before trying again with my left hand. When my left hand comes up it only manages to grab a tiny bit of the lid with my ring and pinky fingers. Neither of these two fingers gets the workout the middle finger does during rush hour so they're kind of weak and thus, both fingers fail me and the jar goes up in the air again. Like one of those fat ballerina elephants with the pink tutu in the cartoons (anyone with me at this point?) it floats through the air for a moment before hitting the egde of the cooler and crashing to the ground. It hit with more force than I expected and that jar exploded like it had some C4 strapped to it. (For the record, I don't know exactly what C4 is but I think I remembered Jack Bauer talking about it in an episode of "24" so I'm going with it.) I stand there for a minute with my purse tangling from my arm and my hand still up kinda up in the air and my mouth gaping open. All three inconsiderate shoppers are now looking at me because you can bet your sweet ass they're aware of me now. So Mr. Hungry Man comes over and says, "Uh, what happened?" And I looked up from the shards of broken glass and mini dills and say, "I dropped my pickels." He and the other two shoppers just kind of nodded their heads. I'm not sure why but suddenly, this whole scene was the funniest thing in the whole wide world and I just start cracking up. And I can't stop. I start to pick up a few pieces of glass but I'm laughing so hard, I don't make much progress. A guy from the meat department comes over and tells me to leave it, that someone will be over soon with a broom and a mop. And then I ask him if they're going to get on the loud speaker and say, "We got a wet clean-up in aisle 4! Repeat, a wet clean up in aisle 4!" He just kind of looks at me as I giggle at my own joke and informed me that he wouldn't need to do that because they were already on their way. So in between all the laughing I apologize for the mess. Pretty soon some kid comes over and starts to clean it up and he puts up this little "Wet Floor" sign that has a little cartoon character slipping and falling on it and this puts me over the edge. I'm laughing so hard at this point, I have tears coming down my cheeks. And every time I try to stiffle the laughter, it gets worse. So a minute later the manager comes over and asks if I cut myself at all. I tell him no, that I'm fine. He asks if I have any other shopping to do. I tell him no, just need the pickles. Saying "just need the pickles" makes me laugh again and I notice that several rubber-neckers are now peering down the aisle to see the crazy lady laughing at the broken pickle jar. The manager tries to hand me another jar and I just start laughing again. I apologize again, walk past the gawkers and head straight out the door. Laughing my ass off the entire way. Clearly, I'll never be able to show my face in that Safeway again but I still had a little unfinished business to tend to. I made a bee-line for King Soopers and got myself some mini dills. You didn't actually think I'd just go home to a BLT and no pickles, did you? Do you not know me but at all?