Wednesday, September 30, 2009


Like most bloggers, I live for comments.

Please, for the sake of my marriage, if you read this blog and get even the slightest enjoyment out of it, comment. Because poor Choreboy is currently being nagged mercilessly about just WHY he hasn't commented today.

Or on Monday's entry. Which I'll grant you was a rant, but still.


Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Procrastination 101

Tonight I'm supposed to do Week 2, Day 2 of the Couch-to-5K program. And I'll do it. For sure.

I just don't wanna.

I've been dreading this run today. And one thing I do extremely well (along with sit at the computer) is procrastinate.

I see my mother daily, so what did I do just now? I talked with her on the phone. For forty-five minutes.

I've been catching up on everyone else's blogs, even though hardly anyone has any updates.

And I've been reading message board posts about C25K stuff. Because reading about it? Beats DOING it at the moment.


Okay, posting this, then I'm going to hit the treadmill. After I make the Gum Zombie's Easy Mac. And I need to scoop the litter boxes. And the toilets need scrubbing...

After some intense Facebooking and Twittering (I managed to procrastinate myself out of cleaning the bathrooms), I got on the treadmill and did W2D2. I don't think I saw any improvement over W2D1 with the exception that I knew I could make it all six intervals this time. Okay, that's a plus. But this is what's staring me in the face next week:

Do you SEE that? I mean, the first interval is fine. 90 seconds. I've got that. But Interval 2 is THREE MINUTES STRAIGHT. And so is Interval 4.

I am clearly insane. Now I have to post this sucker and start on my weights.

Yep, I've lost it.

Monday, September 28, 2009

Monday's Title Is...

Nonexistent. I seriously can't come up with one, so this is going to have to work.

I managed to gasp my way through Week 2, Day 1 of this Couch to 5K thing yesterday. Oh. My. God. There are only six intervals this week (as opposed to eight per day during Week 1), but that extra 30 seconds on each of them is a bear.

That said, I was pretty psyched that I made it. I'm also pretty psyched that I don't have to do it again until tomorrow because I managed to totally brutalize my hamstrings on Saturday's workout and they have yet to forgive me.


In other news, I'm currently at a loss with the Gum Zombie's first grade teacher. Now let me state clearly that HE seems fine with her. This is the same woman who had the Elder offspring for first grade, and although I wasn't her biggest fan that boy still goes by to see her even though he's in fifth grade.

So clearly, she is doing something right.

That said, I'm pretty frustrated at the moment. In all fairness, the Gum Zombie is historically one of those students who pretty much marches to the beat of his own drummer, so that can certainly cause an issue or twelve in a larger group setting. His Kindergarten teacher and I worked with him to help him focus a bit more sharply, and I know that in first grade the boundaries of acceptable classroom and group behaviour are more firmly defined.

I am a realistic parent. I think my sons are awesome, absolutely. I am also perfectly aware that both of the little darlings have the finely-honed ability to be obnoxious toads.

All that said, though, it feels like the child is doing nothing right. EVERY day (and I mean every single day, bar one) I get a detailed list from her of everything he's done wrong, and NEVER anything he's doing right. She did this with the Elder offspring as well, and I was equally frustrated. I'd forgotten that in the four years between the two of them.

What kills me is that at Open House she said that after a somewhat rocky first week he was doing very well. Not just "well", but "very well."

You couldn't prove it by me. Because still, EVERY day in his agenda (the notebook they use to communicate between the school and home), is the litany of his many sins.

And they are legion.

So where is the "better"? I'm curious. Because either a) he's not doing better, or b) she's nitpicking that boy to death.

This leaves me with trying to figure out how to communicate my concern to her without displaying the raging bitchiness that I am here. I want to be accurate, but fair. I also know I have got to communicate with her not only out of parental responsibility, but also because when similar difficulties occurred with my elder son she tried to throw me under the bus and claim I didn't communicate with her and that, gosh darn it, it had to be a two-way street. Fortunately, I was able to show the school administrator with whom I was speaking the many emails we had exchanged (more than 75% of which I had initiated) that disproved her little falsehood.

So.... yeah, not her biggest fan. Which adds an additional problem -- I need to be sure when I'm trying to resolve these concerns that I'm not reacting out of my personal emotions, but am instead being rational and reasonable about my child.

Wish me luck. I'm gonna need it.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Still Breathing

Well, Day 2 of Week 1 of the C25K program went well.

That is, if by "well" you mean "is Amanda still breathing?" Because as a very basic person at my core, that's how I define "well."

To answer JAFG's question in the comments from Sunday's entry, Day 1 - Day 3 (the entirety of training for Week 1) is all the same: 5 minutes brisk walk to warm up followed by 1 minute running, then 90 seconds of walking; repeat as necessary for 20 minutes. And because I'm super-anal about stuff like this, here's a screen shot of the nice little grid I laid out so I wouldn't have to think about when I'm next running:

So according to my calculations it's 8 minutes running total, broken up by 7 90-second walking sessions. The end has a bit more walking on it, but cooling down is a good thing.

Having survived the first two days of Week 1, I'm not worried about Day 3. What's got me all freaked is Week 2, which has 90 seconds of running followed by 2 minutes of walking, again for 20 minutes total. Problem is, I tried running 90 seconds at a time a couple of weeks ago, and did three intervals with a 3.5 minute walking phase, and I was gasping for breath by the end of the third interval. I can't imagine doing it for six intervals. GACK!! Granted, it only totals nine minutes which isn't much more than this week; but, again, see "Voted Most Likely To Become One With the Couch".

By my parents.

Here's my Week 2 grid, just for grins:

So if you don't hear from me next week? It's because my lungs have imploded.

*Note: Choreboy is FOS about sitting on the couch. While I was walking on the treadmill tonight (just because I'm not running doesn't mean I'm not moving), he was outside. Running. Like, where people can see him and everything. GACK!!!

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Couch to 5K

Looking at the title to this post, I think it's safe to say I have clearly lost my mind. I started the "Couch to 5K", or C25K training program today.

Me. The one who's in danger of her body rooting itself to the computer chair.

When I stop laughing long enough to breathe, I'll keep y'all posted on how it goes. The good (and obvious) news is that Day 1 hasn't killed me.


Thursday, September 17, 2009

Survey Says!

Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a winner, folks! Since last month's cycle was 47 days, this month we had a whopping TWENTY-FOUR day cycle!!!

Holy crap. Yep, welcome to my little hormonal hell. Either the period never arrives, or it flies in with a vengeance several days before it's even due. Our next fun trick will involve learning just how long this sucker's going to drag itself out (she says as she glances at her sidebar in trepidation).


In other news, my scale is cooperating with me at the moment. I finally dropped down to 153, and pretty much continue to hover around that number even with the PMS-bloat-fest, which means on the plus side that I've likely actually lost some weight. On the minus side, it means my scale has been stalled for well over a week and will continue to behave like this for another week or two, so I can almost guarantee another whining session about how the stupid thing won't MOVE already, dammit, within that span of time.

I never claimed to be completely rational, y'all.


Also, an update on the school zone speed limit. Seems Mr. Deputy was a bit over-zealous in the tone he took with me. The sign stating that it's a 15 MPH school zone is supposed to sport a flashing light to help draw attention to it. This light is to be flashing when that speed limit is in effect.

Sadly for Mr. Deputy, it does NOT flash, which would be another HUGE reason why I had zero clue that the school zone speed limit had kicked in. The sign -- in addition to being out of the way of the standard driver, as evidenced by other signs they've actually moved to the correct, albeit temporary, locations -- also fails to include the hours that the speed limit is in effect, only stating "while flashing".

Which, again, it doesn't. Flash, that is.

So his overwhelmingly "You ARE a special, slow, idiot who can't read a sign and is obviously trying to kill small children" snarly tone of voice that he took with me? Can take a long walk off a short pier.


I know, I know, cops run into morons who truly don't give a rat's rear end about safety, either their own or others', and I understand that after a time one can get burnt out and assume everyone's an asshole. I used to be on the reserve police force. I get it. Really.

Problem is, sometimes the driver isn't an asshole. Sometimes, even, your equipment is malfunctioning.

Sir. Ahem.

But anyway, all's well that ends well. It's not as if he gave me a ticket, so I don't have a financial fallout from his "tone" or anything, and I can guarantee you I won't forget that school zone. Ever.

Monday, September 14, 2009

Monday... pffft!!!

So I can see on my Dashboard that I have one new follower.


Sadly, Blogger's "Followers" feature is busted at the moment so I can't read who it is.


Edited to add: it appears that the "Followers" function is only invisible with Firefox. Stupid thing shows up fine on Internet Explorer. It's worked fine up until today. I call shenanigans!


In other Monday news, I nearly got a $500.00 ticket this morning on my way in. The state has been doing road work outside my children's elementary school for about six months, and decided at the start of this school year to put in one of those blinky "school zone 15 mph" signs because they've just now put in a crossing guard (after twenty years of none and the school zone speed limit being 45 MPH).

The sign is on the far right-hand side of the road, as one might expect.

However, the road construction being done is expanding the road to four lanes, and currently traffic is all funneled on the two LEFT lanes, thus rendering the blinky-light less than obvious.

It doesn't help that it's right at the intersection where drivers' attention is distracted by the more pertinent red-light-stop-green-light-go-yellow-light-go-very-very-fast device.

Also, they don't start supervising children until 7:40 according to the school paperwork, but the school zone speed limit goes into effect at 7:15 AM? RIGHT outside the school? WTF???

Anyway, obviously since I said I "nearly" got a ticket, the nice deputy just gave me a warning, and I'm finding some BRIGHT green neon paper to write myself a note in the car so I don't forget to slow my ass down WAY before that stupid-almost-invisible blinky light.

I was going 38, for the record. Below the normal posted speed, but definitely NOT 15 MPH.


And adding insult to injury, I woke up this morning with a case of PMS from hell. It's precisely 21 days from the start of the last cycle, so for a normal person this would be expected. But bear in mind, last cycle was 47 days, with three weeks of PMS. So this could be the start of close to a month's worth of weepiness, chocoholism, and scale-based rage.

Fortunately since I know what's up I can at least mitigate any outbursts by reminding myself that I'm merely temporarily insane; also, the exercise I'm getting is actually keeping me on a more even keel (along with regular infusions of dark chocolate).

But let me tell you, if there were fully-elective medicine available with insurance coverage and all of that, I'd totally schedule a hysterectomy. Yeah, I know... rationally it would be a bad idea (this is one reason why we have doctors). I just don't care about that at the moment. I'm done with the equipment, the plumbing's obsolete, let's move it out!

Uhm, have a good week y'all :)

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Widgety Goodness

I'm doing a bit of blog maintenance, so I've started using Blogger's tool for listing blog links on the side, and since I'm a total slacker I had it first load up the blogs I've got set to "follow". So if I follow you, there you go, right there in the sidebar.

And for those who follow me, yep, you're there too (god help you).

My plan is to update the blog list with all the blogs I read, not just the ones I've got set to follow, so hopefully that will happen soon. Meanwhile, I've got a date with the boys. The local SPCA is having its thirtieth anniversary, so we're heading out to the facility for the free pizza and the bouncy house.

Okay, we're also going to do penance, because while we support the SPCA, we've not managed to get an animal there yet. Daniel is the closest, and although we technically got him "at" the SPCA, i.e., on their property, he was more of an illicit parking lot adoption. We're not getting another animal, because a) we can't afford another, and b) I like being married and I think one more four-legged resident might push Choreboy over the brink. But I'll be looking for things I can reasonably spend money on for the beasties we currently have.

Must go. Offspring are hollering. Enjoy the weekend, all!

Thursday, September 10, 2009

An Open Letter to One of My Bosses

Dear Random One Who Signs My Paychecks,

Never ask me to bill one-third of forty-percent of the contract amount again.

Your secretary*

*Whose brain didn't hurt until you told her that you wanted the precentage figure to be 'pretty'. One-third of forty-percent is .13333333333333333333333. And then some. Ad infinitum.

Ain't no way to make that look pretty. Ever. Just sayin'.

Tuesday, September 08, 2009

I'm Calling Foul

Well, Jon Gosselin is in the headlines again, this time for apparently stating (during an interview to be aired on national TV, no less) that he despises his estranged wife, Kate Gosselin.

I've watched this debacle unfold, and from my experience both in my own divorce as well as my professional exposure working for family law attorneys, Jon's been way out of line for awhile and this latest gaffe of his really takes the cake.

Understand, I don't think Kate's any saint. She has talked rudely both to and about Jon for longer than I can remember, and has done this in front of all TLC's viewing audience. I actually think Jon has every right to be furious and, yes, to even "despise" Kate. However, Rule #1 in divorce cases with marriages that involve children is that you must love your children more than you hate your ex.

Loving your children more than you hate their other parent means that you don't get to go on vacations with your current paramour(s) when you know full well you live in a fishbowl and your antics will be recorded for posterity (and your children's future googling pleasure).

It's not fair? You should be able to have a life? It's not your fault you're a public figure because you and your estranged spouse have ridden your children's coattails to fame and fortune and are continuing to do so even during the upending of your beloved offspring's entire lives?? I'm sorry. See "I'm a Big Kid Now!", Paragraph 4, Section 1.1 entitled "Life, It Isn't Always Fair."

Loving your children more than you hate their other parent means that you don't get to make fun of that parent on national TV.

What, you're just playing around? Joking? Having a rip-roaringly good ol' time with the kiddies? I'm sorry, see "I'm in the Middle of a Divorce Trial - What Now?", Paragraph 8, Section 1.2.9 entitled "Things You Shouldn't Be Doing in Front of Your Children, Especially With Witnesses. And Cameramen."

Loving your children more than you hate their other parent means -- and listen closely Jon -- you don't get to share for broadcast with the entire world that you despise their mother (or father, depending on the case at hand).

You just don't.

One thing that was really stressed to my ex and me during the Parents, Children, and Divorce class that the State of Florida requires all divorcing parties with children to complete is that children take it personally when you talk about their parents -- and it doesn't matter who's doing the talking. If you're talking poorly about a child's mother or father, that child is going to extrapolate what you're saying and reflect it onto him or herself, because that child is 1/2 of the person that you hate. Saying you hate a child's parent (and I think it's increased when it's their same-gendered parent) translates in kiddie-speak to you hating the child.

What, your children know you love them? Great! That's wonderful, and I'm sure they do. But what sticks in the back of their head is that while you love the half that's you, you hate the half that's not.

Both Jon and Kate need to realize it's natural at some point in the divorce process that one's fondness for the other party suffers a significant drop. Face it -- if you were both able to treat each other decently on a consistent basis, chances are you wouldn't be in this mess, now would you? So get it out of your system. Talk to yourself, talk to a therapist, talk to SOMEONE discreet.

But by all that is holy DO NOT MISTAKE YOUR INTERVIEWER FOR A COUNSELOR. The press is NOT your sounding board, and the media is not your best buddy.

And the American public is starting to think you both pretty much suck, quite frankly, if what I'm reading on message boards and comment threads is anything to go by.

Your children didn't ask to be brought into this situation, and continuing in this manner is going to ultimately harm them, not your ex.

Your ex already thinks you're an ass. Trust me on this. That goes for both parties -- don't fool yourselves that either of you are entirely innocent or injured. That honor belongs to your children alone.

At this point, only you can shield your children from the poor decisions their parents made. It's the least you can do for them.

My kingdom for five minutes alone with these people. Good GRIEF.

Sunday, September 06, 2009


I know not everyone is as attached to what they've eaten/ will eat/ are planning to eat WEEKS out like I am, but there is a reason I struggle with my weight, and my adoration of food would play a large part in that. Since I'm obviously over-invested in what goes in my mouth, I track it like a demon to make sure I'm both eating enough of the right stuff and not overdoing on anything.

Yeah, I've lost fifty-ish pounds, depending if you go with my overall low (145) or my current (153), but the goal was 70 pounds, and for two years now I've worked on gaining and losing the same fifteen-plus-or-minus pounds about four times rather than getting those last 20-ish pounds gone.

Note: just for reference sake, the 130-pound goal weight is cleared by my doctor. I'm 5'-7" tall with a small frame, and the optimal weights for that height and build can range from 123 - 138. I figure 130 is a nice, pleasant happy medium, giving me room to indulge while not having me resemble Skeletor. That said, if I can't live with 130 as a healthy, fit person I will cheerfully up it so I can eat a bit more. Food is good.

Anyway, because it amuses me, here's today's breakfast:

The number columns represent calories, carbohydrates, fat, and protein, in that order.

I scramble eggs with one whole egg and two additional egg whites for more protein punch for my calories. Some days I go with entire eggs, but today, well...

For the rest of the day I will continue to eat. And eat. And eat. In just under two hours we're heading over to my brother's for a cookout that is going to include either barbecue or burgers (or both), chips, dip, the vegetables I'm bringing and MORE dip, Diet Coke, more dip...

Food is quite the theme with our family gatherings. Weddings, holidays, funerals -- my great-uncle personally planned the menu for his own wake a week before he died -- random social exchanges, they all revolve around food. So we make adaptations and have some healthier choices around, then just dive face-first into the trough.

I have a sneaking suspicion there might be brownies also. And perhaps some shortbread cookies if I ever get off my butt and put them in the oven.

So that little picture is my single salute to healthy eating today. Enjoy the Labor Day weekend, folks!!

Thursday, September 03, 2009

More wedding pictures...

...are up at my Facebook page. So if you haven't friended me there, you might want to consider it. Or friend one of my friends... or something like that.

Nothing new here to report. The scale is still being a total pain in the ass.

Of course, the french fries I had at dinner last night likely aren't helping matters. Adding insult to injury, they really sucked -- I just ate them because they were on my plate.

Good grief.

Wednesday, September 02, 2009


I! Hate! My! Scale!

That is all.