Days 5 & 6:

Day 5 I Ran.

(( ...snore...))

It's still a little (LOT!) hot to run outside, and treadmills make me feel like a hamster.

Then again, knowing that I do not have to run for another 25 days just may qualify this as the best run ever.

For the record:

One fact I cannot deny is that running works. When I do run, my body lets me know it has worked both inside and outside for my good.

Also for the record:

Ipod has changed my relationship with running.

Seven or eight songs into my run I had satisfied my 30 minute minimum, and I hadn't even noticed. A miracle.

Day 6: Yoga!

I am headed for my SIL Diane's favorite yoga DVD.

She has warned me a couple of times about the effectiveness of this particular DVD, and that I might want to go easy on it.

The problem is that I don't know how to do that, and I routinely ignore such warnings in search of painful evidence that my body has done some serious working out.

I usually regret this later when I realize I did not need quite so much evidence, but here I go again...

P.S. Thanks, D, for the idea!

(And the DVD loan!)

(AND, again, for lunch yesterday - on YOUR birthday!)

Namaste.

Day 4: Variety Workout Challenge

My biceps are screaming at me about the abuse from kickboxing with "Jean-Paul".

No matter.

The challenge continues...

Today: Basketball.

A little trash-talkin' is good for the soul.

Unfortunately, it did my ball game no good whatsoever.

Loser

Winner

To My Future Daughter-In-Law

You're Welcome.

Day 3:

Kickboxing.

My teacher was pretty much the spitting image of Jean-Claude.

Only more buff.

I had no idea. Consider my butt properly kicked.

Best Buy Makes Me Gag

I confess.

It's over.

My relationship with my printer.

A little back story:
We have been through a lot of ups and downs lately (Click HERE if you don't remember), but yesterday we hit a low point in the relationship when things turned violent.

I asked him to print. I didn't think I was being unreasonable, but he refused! He told me that he was all out of paper and was yelling at me with that flashing orange light.

Lies!

I checked up on him - he had paper all along. Just not for me. We were going to have to work things out.

I tried a gentle approach, adjusting his paper tray ever so lightly - he would not budge an inch! I had to get a little firm with him. So you see, officer, things just got out of hand...

And now, things are broken forever. I tried to patch things up but it was nothing but paper jams after that. Things were bad, real bad.

It was time to move on...

(Now that the mall is so convenient, we can make a "mall run" like others run to Walgreens.)

(This may or may not turn out to be a good thing.)

(This time it was a good thing, because printers only break when you are using them... there was work to be done, and a 5 minute run to Best Buy sounded great.)

Theoretically, this should have been a 5 minute run to Best Buy.

Minute 1 - Cross the freeway

Minute 2 - Park the Car

Minute 3 - Walk in & Adopt a New Printer (Yep - just that fast.)

Minute 4 - Pay the cashier

Minute 5 - Load him up & drive home

Not so.

The problem came at Minute 4. As I approached the cashier he backed away and covered his mouth and motioned for me to hold on a minute by holding up a finger to me while he ((burped?)) I don't know... Okay, I played along and pretended not to notice.

Then he did it again.

SO RUDE. But, what's a girl to do?

Then he bolts to the guy who stands by the door (who is busily chatting with another co-worker and ignoring Burping Cashier Boy just a little too long), he taps Door Man on the shoulder repeatedly, then begins to hurl. First on the floor, then he notices a garbage can nearby and finishes the job, at least temporarily, then he runs with a string of saliva trailing behind him into the distance while Doorman calls in a "Code 9" on the walkie talkie.

I was standing uncomfortably close to the whole scenario.

Enough so, that I did indeed gag. Twice.

So unfortunate that I needed this printer so badly... I had to stay.

I did rethink which checkout counter I would use.

I did also rethink the box of Hot Tamales impulse buy. No thanks.

Finally an apologetic cashier replacement appeared and I bought my printer.

Then (several minutes later than expected), I too, bolted.

In the opposite direction from the last guy.

Ew!

Day 2:

Lap Swimming

Loved it!

(And the kids didn't seem to mind the extra pool time.)

My 30 Minutes for 30 Days Variety Workout Challenge

I like to play games.

And I like Challenges.

Unfortunately, I LOVE cheesecake.

Fortunately, I love to exercise.

I am in the mood for a game/challenge, so I made up this game:

Everyday for 30 days I will add a 30 minute workout of some sort to my life.

RULES!:

1. Add a 30 minute workout of 1 specific activity each day for 30 consecutive days

2. Each workout must be different from the last.

3. No Repeats

I am good for the first 2 rules - the third one will require some imagination after the first few days.

(I'll tell you right now that this is supposed to be fun for me, so I will just plan to run tomorrow so that I can cross that right off my list. For me, Running = No fun! )

Play with me if you want to! And, hook me up with some comment suggestions/ideas/favorite workouts!

(Don't say "Run". Resist.)

Let the fun begin!

Today = Day 1: Step Aerobics!

Done!

Joey Apologizes

Listen to this:

My children are always impressing me.

My son + 1 piano + 1 microphone = 2 much fun!

Joey (Age 11) One Republic "Apologize"

We Are Having A Small Problem.

I will begin by telling you it's official: We have moved!

Several big men in an over-sized truck, who walk unusually slow for humans (because they are paid by the hour?), moved all of our things to our new home.

Our New home = 5 miles from old home.
Our New home = Beautiful, happy place.
Our New Home = About 1/2 size of Old Home...

This brings me to our small problem. More specifically our small closet problem. I think all of the square footage smaller that our new house measures came directly out of the master bedroom closet.

Items to Consider:

Exhibit A: The Small Closet Is Already Jam Packed With Items. Note hanger density.

Exhibit B: Three Empty Wardrobe Boxes Have Already Been Unpacked Into Said Closet.

Exhibit C: Six FULL Wardrobe Boxes Are Still Waiting To Be Unpacked Into Said Closet.

Paul says there is only one solution.

*Paul's solution is not that he is moving out of my closet.
*Paul's solution involves things leaving the closet.
*Paul's solution implies that the things leaving the closet may not belong to Paul.

So you see, when I said we are having a small problem what I meant is we are having a HUGE problem that may indicate A/Therapy or B/Post Traumatic Stress Disorder for one member of this household before we are through here.

C'mon all you HGTV enthusiasts - Neat freaks - Smart Girls and Organization Divas - Bring me some ideas!!

(Or a map to the secret door leading to the second closet?)

On A Lighter Note:

Casualties of the Move:

Only one:

The Walmart desk. (Oh, darn.)
(And perhaps one hulky moving man's t-shirt, as I am sure sweat must calcify at some point.)

Survivors of the Move: My darling buffet, and our armoir - affectionately known as "the monster". He lives!

Seriously though, the closet is a problem, and I am fishing for solutions. Help!

Craigslist.

I love it.

That's all.

Case in point: My Dining Room

Can you name all three things I bought on Craigslist in this room on the first try?

Can you identify the most expensive item in the room?

How about the least expensive?

(Here's a hint: The least expensive item is not the sand in the candle holders.)

(P.S. I like this game.)

Having trouble?

THAT is why I love Craigslist.

The End.

I Do Not Like Green Eggs & Ham...

Or shopping at Walmart.

Reason #1,549,654 why I am not a fan of Walmart shopping:

Greeters, who wave and make nice with me as I make my way into the store, but watch me closely with beady eyes as I check out my purchases with the cashier. They continue to eyeball me as I make my way directly from the cashier toward the exit - one straight line with my receipt in hand -

Until...

Until I get too close. They must make their move - blockading the exit

.

(which is, incidentally, located on the left instead of the right side of the road forever disturbing my Chi - Reason #1,549,653)

.

with their blue-vested, smiley-face-wearing bodies until I prove (to them personally) that I did, indeed, pay for that super-sized jumbo pack of pampers that could not possibly have fit into a shopping bag (but happens to be buried beneath 43 of them).

True story.

Meanwhile, in a land far away...

I strolled right out of another, more favored superstore (Target) with a lamp and a truckload of Charmin Ultra at the bottom of my cart that I had forgotten to place on the cashier belt (at Target) while I was wrestling tired, hungry children out of the candy aisle. And nobody stopped me once (at Target, Target, Target) (!). It was rather inconvenient to realize in the parking lot, once I double-checked my receipt, that I had to unpack those same tired and hungry children from the car and go back into the store. And wait in line again. To pay for those items. But I did do it. Gladly. And I don't need to be greeted by people with stickers to keep me on the straight & narrow.

Also a true story.

I do not like green eggs and ham. I do not like them Sam I Am.