Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Top Ten Reasons Winter Blows.
It's no secret that I hate winter. I know that I whine about it, ad nauseum. But have you ever wondered why I hate winter so much? Well, I'm here to tell you.
The whole soggy foot situation. I’m sure a real grown up remembers to put on her boots and thermal socks before leaving the house, but I have yet to reach that status. Instead, I’m forced to sit at my desk with the snow melting into ice-cold puddles in the bottom of my shoes. And when my feet are cold? There’s no hope for the rest of me.
The necessity of gloves. I am a rather scatter brained person. I forget things. Frequently. I lose them even more often than that. So keeping track of a pair of gloves for the entire winter? Impossible. I inevitably end up sporting horribly mismatched gloves, feeling like a fool every time I pull them on.
The cracked, bleeding hands. Because I do so often lose my hand coverings, I’m frequently out in the elements without them. Which leads to old lady hands with cracked, bleeding knuckles. Attractive, no?
The de-icing of the windshield. As a solidly entrenched member of suburbia, I do, in fact, own a two-car garage. Where, in theory, I could park my vehicle. But it is bursting at the seams with random crap, and so I still have to park in my driveway. Which also means I have to spend a solid ten minutes every morning chipping away at the ice and snow. Ten minutes which could otherwise be devoted to drinking coffee…or picking my nose.
The constant runny nose. Once the temperature drops below freezing, I tend to come down with a case of the sniffles that lasts until spring. By February, the redness of my nose gives me a striking resemblance to Rudolph, except without the benefit of having an actual light in there. Obviously, I’m quite the catch.
The snarling people. Have you ever noticed how much less happy people are when it’s cold and nasty and gray outside? No one holds doors, or smiles unless it’s absolutely necessary. And around the office? Well, let’s just say it’s a wonder no one’s come to blows yet.
The stupid ass drivers. Oh no! There’s a quarter inch of snow on the ground! Of course we should drive at 15 miles an hour, and begin stopping a half-mile before the light. Otherwise all those satan’s little helpers driving SUVs won’t have anything to swerve around at 55 miles an hour…right before landing in a ditch.
The necessity of a gym. When it’s warm outside, a world of fitness opportunities lies just outside your door. But when it’s cold? You’ve got to head to the gym, where you’re inevitably trapped on a treadmill next to that guy who just finished hacking up his left lung yesterday, and is working on his right one today.
Oh, the itching. Blame it on the cold weather. Or on the dry heat the furnace gives out. Or the sheer number of layers I’m forced to wear. But somewhere about the middle of January, my whole body starts itching, and no amount of moisturizer helps.
The bone chilling cold. This is by far the worst part of winter. No matter how hard I try to stay warm, my core remains slightly icy, and five seconds after getting out of bed, I’m shivering again. Brrrrrrr.
So, yeah. Those are my top ten whines for today. How about you guys? Is there anything that bugs you about this season?
Also, if you'd like to read some more (probably far less whiny) Top Ten goodness, head over to Oh Amanda.
Monday, February 8, 2010
The Birth of a Family Vacation.
Summer Vacation. Growing up, that phrase was never uttered without the capital letters. Because in our house? Summer Vacation was a Very Big Deal.
Once a year, my parents would pack the whole family up (including the St. Bernard, and yes, even Fuzzer the cat), and we'd hit the road. And these were no short jaunts we embarked on. Nope. The average trip was 18 hours or more, over giant bridges and through towering mountains, all on traffic-clogged, construction barrel-littered highways.
I'd spend the trip getting slobbered on by our 180-pound dog while my mom cleaned up Fuzzer's repeated bilious protests (she vomited so much we called her Faucet Face) and my dad swore at the traffic.
By the time we arrived, I'd be so carsick I could no longer stand up straight. My dad would be snarling at the world. I'm not sure what my brother was doing (by this point, we usually weren't talking), but my mom would be cheerfully assembling sandwiches and snacks, sure that once we had food in our stomachs, everything would take a turn for the better.
And you know what? She was right.
A lot of my fondest childhood memories stem from Summer Vacation. I remember cannon-balling off my dad's shoulders, shrieking with joy. I remember playing in the surf with my mom, laughing as yet another wave threatened to tip us over. I remember watching the fireflies dance, and playing Yahtzee, and chasing down pelicans.
For that week, my brother and I were always the best of friends. We'd spend hours playing in the waves together, catching hermit crabs, and making sand castles on the beach. At night, we'd take turns roasting marshmallows, and at bedtime, we'd giggle together in our sleeping bags until my dad threatened to make someone sleep in the car.
Every vacation had its share of mishaps (for instance, there was the year our cat got kidnapped by raccoons), but in my mind, those memories are surrounded by a soft golden glow. They're also accompanied by the smell of salt, the feeling of sand between my toes and the sound of waves crashing on the beach.
Because our Summer Vacation? Wasn't a vacation at all unless it found us playing on an ocean beach.
So now that I have my own little family, I'm dying to have a Summer Vacation of our own. One that involves an ocean, a car trip, and maybe even a little swearing.
My husband is trying to talk sense into me. There's no need for a 14-hour trip down I-65, he says. After all, we'd probably pass about 12325475824 perfectly good lakes on the way. Lakes where we could swim, build sand castles and make memories.
After all, he points out, she's still too young to really remember a vacation. And our last car trip? The one home at Christmastime? Was made 1,000 times longer by the soundtrack of screams that issued from the backseat.
These are all good points. Points I really can't argue with. But my desire for an ocean-oriented vacation has nothing to do with common sense. It's a hunger that comes from somewhere way down deep in my soul.
In the depths of this endless Indiana winter, I need something to look forward to. I need to know that sometime soon, I'll hear the ocean's rhythm again. I need to believe I'll see the pelicans circling again. I need to be able to daydream about showing Tori how to make a sand castle, snuggling on the beach with my honey and watching the dolphins dance in the surf.
I need to know there's a Summer Vacation in our future. Is that so much to ask?
Once a year, my parents would pack the whole family up (including the St. Bernard, and yes, even Fuzzer the cat), and we'd hit the road. And these were no short jaunts we embarked on. Nope. The average trip was 18 hours or more, over giant bridges and through towering mountains, all on traffic-clogged, construction barrel-littered highways.
I'd spend the trip getting slobbered on by our 180-pound dog while my mom cleaned up Fuzzer's repeated bilious protests (she vomited so much we called her Faucet Face) and my dad swore at the traffic.
By the time we arrived, I'd be so carsick I could no longer stand up straight. My dad would be snarling at the world. I'm not sure what my brother was doing (by this point, we usually weren't talking), but my mom would be cheerfully assembling sandwiches and snacks, sure that once we had food in our stomachs, everything would take a turn for the better.
And you know what? She was right.
A lot of my fondest childhood memories stem from Summer Vacation. I remember cannon-balling off my dad's shoulders, shrieking with joy. I remember playing in the surf with my mom, laughing as yet another wave threatened to tip us over. I remember watching the fireflies dance, and playing Yahtzee, and chasing down pelicans.
For that week, my brother and I were always the best of friends. We'd spend hours playing in the waves together, catching hermit crabs, and making sand castles on the beach. At night, we'd take turns roasting marshmallows, and at bedtime, we'd giggle together in our sleeping bags until my dad threatened to make someone sleep in the car.
Every vacation had its share of mishaps (for instance, there was the year our cat got kidnapped by raccoons), but in my mind, those memories are surrounded by a soft golden glow. They're also accompanied by the smell of salt, the feeling of sand between my toes and the sound of waves crashing on the beach.
Because our Summer Vacation? Wasn't a vacation at all unless it found us playing on an ocean beach.
So now that I have my own little family, I'm dying to have a Summer Vacation of our own. One that involves an ocean, a car trip, and maybe even a little swearing.
My husband is trying to talk sense into me. There's no need for a 14-hour trip down I-65, he says. After all, we'd probably pass about 12325475824 perfectly good lakes on the way. Lakes where we could swim, build sand castles and make memories.
After all, he points out, she's still too young to really remember a vacation. And our last car trip? The one home at Christmastime? Was made 1,000 times longer by the soundtrack of screams that issued from the backseat.
These are all good points. Points I really can't argue with. But my desire for an ocean-oriented vacation has nothing to do with common sense. It's a hunger that comes from somewhere way down deep in my soul.
In the depths of this endless Indiana winter, I need something to look forward to. I need to know that sometime soon, I'll hear the ocean's rhythm again. I need to believe I'll see the pelicans circling again. I need to be able to daydream about showing Tori how to make a sand castle, snuggling on the beach with my honey and watching the dolphins dance in the surf.
I need to know there's a Summer Vacation in our future. Is that so much to ask?
Saturday, February 6, 2010
BBB Round 2: Week 4
Remember how excited I was about my weight loss accomplishments last week? Yeah. That was nice.
Apparently, I jinxed myself because this week I didn't lose anything. Nothing. Nada. Not even .1 pound. Of course, that might have something to do with the plethora of restaurant meals I ate. Wendy's. Penn Station. And let's not forget Cracker Barrel and its biscuit topped pot pie.
All wonderfully healthy options, wouldn't you agree?
What can I say? When the deadlines stack up and the stress piles on, it gets hard to eat well. Especially when you live in the backwaters of America, as I do, on the side of town where the populace seems to live on fast food and not much else (I am often horrified by the carts in Kroger. Who knew there was that much frozen fried food out there?).
What's that, you say? Enough with the excuses? Okay.
I'll just resolve to do better. Starting tomorrow. Right now, the in-laws are in town, which means another Search for More Food. I'm trying to make good choices, but those choices are still being made in bulk.
Wish me luck.
Now it's your turn. Who has good news...or a confession to make?
Apparently, I jinxed myself because this week I didn't lose anything. Nothing. Nada. Not even .1 pound. Of course, that might have something to do with the plethora of restaurant meals I ate. Wendy's. Penn Station. And let's not forget Cracker Barrel and its biscuit topped pot pie.
All wonderfully healthy options, wouldn't you agree?
What can I say? When the deadlines stack up and the stress piles on, it gets hard to eat well. Especially when you live in the backwaters of America, as I do, on the side of town where the populace seems to live on fast food and not much else (I am often horrified by the carts in Kroger. Who knew there was that much frozen fried food out there?).
What's that, you say? Enough with the excuses? Okay.
I'll just resolve to do better. Starting tomorrow. Right now, the in-laws are in town, which means another Search for More Food. I'm trying to make good choices, but those choices are still being made in bulk.
Wish me luck.
Now it's your turn. Who has good news...or a confession to make?
Friday, February 5, 2010
Friday Follow Fun.

Hi everybody. My name is Amber and I'm a blogging addict. As such, I love to see that little follower count over there on the left go up (I'm maybe a little vain), so if you're here from Friday Follow, welcome! And, of course, thank you for taking the time to check me out.
To get you up to speed, here's a few of the many ramblings I've posted over the last year or so.
Where it all began.
When it got serious.
Pondering my role as role model (heh).
Airing my dirty laundry in public.
Just being silly.
And my ongoing struggle with those post-pregnancy pounds (fellow sufferers welcome).
There's more. Oh so much more. But I'm sure you've got more surfing to do, so I'll stop yammering at you. I look forward to getting to know each and every one of you.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Wordful Wednesday: Ten Months.
My little Tori is ten months old today. Ten months. That means she's been out of my belly longer than she was baking inside it. In two more months, she'll be a whole year (look at me, I can do math!). It seems unbelievable...
She's not real big on posing for pictures anymore.
She'd rather stand and play with her toys.
In fact, you almost have to trap her to get her to sit still.
But every once in a while, you can still catch one that makes it worth the trouble.
Here's to ten months of adventure. Who knows what the next ten months will bring?
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Top Ten Ways to Procrastinate.
Procrastination, I've often said, is an under-appreciated art form. Sure, anybody can do it. But some are more skilled at it than others. Those of us in creative industries, like advertising? We probably spend more time procrastinating than anybody else on the planet.
So here, for your reading enjoyment, are my top ten ways to procrastinate (which I may or may not be writing while ignoring an imminent deadline):
1. Twitter, twitter, twitter till you can't tweet no more. Check in with your favorite tweeps. Check out the trending topics. Stalk those who did you wrong—and random folks you've never met.
2. Explore alternate career paths. What would it take to become a long-distance trucker? How much do bartenders at Coyote Ugly make? Could you survive on a barrista's salary? Well, there's only one way to find out...
3. Facebook stalk...anybody. Old high school buddies, ex-coworkers, the bitchy supermom down the street...hours of entertainment can be had.
4. Do you speak Etsy? You should. There's a world of handmade goods out there, just waiting to be discovered. Purses, jewelry, clothes, even tutus (yes, tutus).
5. Plan an escape. When dealing with writer's block, nothing sounds better than abandoning ship and heading for warmer climes. So I plan mythical vacations. Cruises, safaris, glacier treks - no adventure is too far fetched.
6. Explore the wonders of YouTube. What can't you find on YouTube? Laughing babies, sneezing pandas, stupid human tricks...an entire universe of procrastination goodness lies before you.
7. Find the answers to random trivia. Who played Inigo Montoya? Why do cats have more than one set of eyelids? Is Keith Richards really a vampire? If you search long enough, the Internet will probably supply the answers.
8. Plan elaborate meals I will never actually cook. So what if I can hardly boil water? For all google knows, I could be the next Julia Child. So why shouldn't I plan a menu including Beef Wellington, goat cheese souffle and molten lava cake? After all, my husband can always make it for me.
9. Games, games and more games. Have you discovered Bejeweled? Or ever participated in a Tetris tournament? If not, then you haven't really lived (or procrastinated).
10. Read blogs, of course. Right now, my reader says I have 820 entries to catch up on. Yep, that could keep me busy for a while.
But right now, I have an ad to write. And a baby to put to bed. And most importantly, Lost to watch. So why don't you tell me what your favorite ways to procrastinate are?
So here, for your reading enjoyment, are my top ten ways to procrastinate (which I may or may not be writing while ignoring an imminent deadline):
1. Twitter, twitter, twitter till you can't tweet no more. Check in with your favorite tweeps. Check out the trending topics. Stalk those who did you wrong—and random folks you've never met.
2. Explore alternate career paths. What would it take to become a long-distance trucker? How much do bartenders at Coyote Ugly make? Could you survive on a barrista's salary? Well, there's only one way to find out...
3. Facebook stalk...anybody. Old high school buddies, ex-coworkers, the bitchy supermom down the street...hours of entertainment can be had.
4. Do you speak Etsy? You should. There's a world of handmade goods out there, just waiting to be discovered. Purses, jewelry, clothes, even tutus (yes, tutus).
5. Plan an escape. When dealing with writer's block, nothing sounds better than abandoning ship and heading for warmer climes. So I plan mythical vacations. Cruises, safaris, glacier treks - no adventure is too far fetched.
6. Explore the wonders of YouTube. What can't you find on YouTube? Laughing babies, sneezing pandas, stupid human tricks...an entire universe of procrastination goodness lies before you.
7. Find the answers to random trivia. Who played Inigo Montoya? Why do cats have more than one set of eyelids? Is Keith Richards really a vampire? If you search long enough, the Internet will probably supply the answers.
8. Plan elaborate meals I will never actually cook. So what if I can hardly boil water? For all google knows, I could be the next Julia Child. So why shouldn't I plan a menu including Beef Wellington, goat cheese souffle and molten lava cake? After all, my husband can always make it for me.
9. Games, games and more games. Have you discovered Bejeweled? Or ever participated in a Tetris tournament? If not, then you haven't really lived (or procrastinated).
10. Read blogs, of course. Right now, my reader says I have 820 entries to catch up on. Yep, that could keep me busy for a while.
But right now, I have an ad to write. And a baby to put to bed. And most importantly, Lost to watch. So why don't you tell me what your favorite ways to procrastinate are?
Saturday, January 30, 2010
BBB Round 2: Week Three.
At long last, my sisters and brothers in weight loss, we've reached the last weigh-in of January. By now, according to all the weight loss "experts," we should all be finding it easier to stick to our healthy (okay, healthier) habits.
After all, three weeks is supposed to be the magic number. That's how long they say it takes to re-train your brain. So, in other words, we should be starting to find it easier to pass up the ice cream in favor of a yogurt by now, and less difficult to haul our butts to the gym instead of to the couch.
How 'bout it? Are you finding this to be true?
I've yet to have three weeks of good health this year, so I'm not really sure it applies in my case. However, I did feel guilty about the ice cream I ate last night (and only had a small bowl). And when picking up a rotisserie chicken for dinner the other night, I got some sweet potatoes and salad stuff to go with it instead of potato salad and cole slaw.
So I guess I'm learning (again).
The scale says I'm doing something right. I was down 3.6 pounds this week. I'm pretty sure that fleeting stomach bug I had was at least partly to blame, but still...it gives me hope. Maybe I really will be back in my skinny jeans by April.
Talk to me, people. How did you do this week?
After all, three weeks is supposed to be the magic number. That's how long they say it takes to re-train your brain. So, in other words, we should be starting to find it easier to pass up the ice cream in favor of a yogurt by now, and less difficult to haul our butts to the gym instead of to the couch.
How 'bout it? Are you finding this to be true?
I've yet to have three weeks of good health this year, so I'm not really sure it applies in my case. However, I did feel guilty about the ice cream I ate last night (and only had a small bowl). And when picking up a rotisserie chicken for dinner the other night, I got some sweet potatoes and salad stuff to go with it instead of potato salad and cole slaw.
So I guess I'm learning (again).
The scale says I'm doing something right. I was down 3.6 pounds this week. I'm pretty sure that fleeting stomach bug I had was at least partly to blame, but still...it gives me hope. Maybe I really will be back in my skinny jeans by April.
Talk to me, people. How did you do this week?
Labels:
Banishing the baby belly,
weekly weigh in
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