Friday, September 25, 2009

Must Wear Socks

This morning I had to be up early to meet a client for a workout. I knew I was going to be up before my husband so I had laid out my clothes and bag the night before. I try not to be too “cutesy” when it comes to my training clothes but I was feeling frisky (as my husband would say). So I picked out black capris, a hot pink top, and matching black/hot pink tennis shoes that I had snagged on clearance at Payless. Since the shoes are primarily black I think they look better without socks, so opted to go foot commando for the morning.

As I walked to the car I was surprised at how chilly it was (thankfully I had grabbed a hoodie), but figured I would be in and out of the car pretty quick, so I would survive. It’s amazing how wrong I can be sometimes.

I was about a mile or two away from the apartment when I first noticed the signs of trouble. The “TRAC OFF” warning light quietly came on which got me thinking that a trip to the auto shop was going to be in order that day. It wasn’t until the car completely stopped working that I realized I was totally screwed.

My car came to a rest on the shoulder of the road, which wasn’t easy considering I had lost power steering along the way. After the initial shock wore off, I dug out my phone to call for help. A wife’s first call is usually to her husband, but my hubby was in bed and without a car so I knew he would be as helpful as my mother who lives 3000 miles away (and who is always my first call when I am in trouble). So I pulled out my insurance card, verified that I had roadside assistance, made a call, and began the 45 minute wait for a tow truck. Yes, that was a 45 freaking minute wait. So there I sat alone in a car with no heat…in the northwest…in October…before sunrise…with no socks. Needless to say, I was unhappy on so many levels.

An hour later when the tow truck rolled up, hypothermia had set in and taken three toes on each foot. The pain I felt was equaled only to the boredom on the tow truck drivers face once he climbed down from the truck’s cab and began hooking my car up to the tow. His enthusiasm for his career became even more evident when it came time for me to ride with him to the repair shop. Upon arrival in the cab I was greeted by two things: heat (thankfully) and ACDC. Both were on full blast.

The truck ride was a short one and before long I had dropped off the car and was walking the remaining blocks home. Once again I was reminded of my poor clothing choices and why I never go commando…even in my shoes.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Fairs & Festivals

Last weekend we went to the largest fair in the state of Washington, The Puyallup Fair (a.k.a. The Big Fantastic). I wasn’t sure what to expect from this two-week long affair that is held south of Seattle each year, but my husband was excited for the “fair food”. So I guess that is where I will begin.

The Food:
I have been to many fairs in my life, including church, city, county, and even a state. So I consider myself schooled in the culinary offerings that are available at these social gatherings. But then again, I have only gone to fairs in the Midwest…could the Northwest really be any different??

Well, yes, it can. The Puyallup was actually my second fair/festival that I attended this month. My first was Bremerton’s Annual Blackberry Festival which was pretty much what I expected…lots of food, music and booths, all coated in blackberries. So with two fairs under my belt I feel like I can honestly comment on the odd shit, I mean differences that I have encountered.

Elephant Ear—This is a giant piece of fried bread (resembling an ear?) covered in cinnamon and sugar
Teriyaki chicken and noodles—Who the hell eats Asian food at a fair? Slimy, slippery noodles do not seem like a great pick for fair food.
Cow chip—This may sound gross, but really this is just a giant chocolate chip cookie
Scones—I hate to repeat myself, but fair food? Really? A fucking scone? Maybe if we were in England and drinking tea.
Fried alligator on a stick—I assume this is self explanatory and my husband says it tastes like fishy chicken
Funnel cake toppings—I will admit that this is just a personal issue. I love funnel cakes. In my opinion they are a perfect food that does not need to be improved upon or added to. But these Northwesterners feel the need to slop on a bunch of crap (fruit), whipped cream, and flavored syrup. I guess I am just a purist at heart.

The People:
For the most part, I saw the same types of people at NW fairs as I have seen at Midwest fairs. For example, I spotted the “chippys” dressed in mini skirts and strappy sandals, love birds walking with thumbs in their honey’s back pockets, cowboys in boots and ten gallon hats, families with exhausted parents and sugar-fueled children, and teenagers…lots and lots of teenagers. I enjoyed the people watching, I must say.

The Rides
Okay, I got to be honest, I don’t trust fair rides. There is just something disarming about the fact that the ride that flips you upside-down was unloaded off a truck and constructed earlier that morning. But against my better judgment I was “encouraged” to ride these traveling death traps and lived to see another day. I really didn’t encounter any new or bizarre rides, but I will mention that if you have a bad neck, roller coasters and bumper cars are NOT suggested. Ouch.

Friday, September 18, 2009

Failure

I couldn't even make it an entire week without stepping on the scale. I'm a disgrace.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Scaling back?

I weigh myself everyday.

Yes, even after losing the weight and keeping it off for almost six years, I cannot stop myself from stepping on the scale each morning before breakfast. And I would love to say that the number that appears doesn’t affect my day, but sadly it does. The lower the number, that happier I am.

Self-proclaimed experts seem to disagree when it comes to the scale subject. Some say weighing oneself everyday helps keep the weight at bay; others believe that facing the scale daily can do psychological harm. So what is a girl to do?

I have been wondering if I could go a week without weighing myself and if it would help me or hinder? I have gone a week before without stepping on a scale, but that is when I was on a seven-day cruise where watching my weight wasn’t a priority, or even feasible. And I won’t even tell you how much I gained during that stint.

I want to take my focus off of food. I want to go a day and not calculate the calories in my head or on paper. I’m not sure if stepping OFF the scale can help me do that, but it is worth a try. So I will weigh myself one last time this Monday morning and then I will see how long I can last.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

You Know You’re In Trouble When…

You Know You’re In Trouble When…

  • An ambulance has to be called to your co-ed, slow-pitch softball game
  • You get a letter from the IRS and it is September
  • Instead of concrete your apartment management fills in the pool will rocks
  • You’re outside in August and you can see your breath
  • Your neighbor has to take down her doorbell because she kept getting pranked (someone ringing the bell and running away)
  • Your husband goes to the grocery store, unescorted, and returns with 6 frosted chocolate donuts, 8 giant cinnamon rolls, and an entire lemon cake
  • A 6’3 shortstop drills a line drive, hitting the pitcher in the knee, and you’re the pitcher

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

A Northwest Night Out

My husband and I have explored a lot of the Northwest. We’ve gone to various restaurants, parks, baseball games, beaches, and even zoos. But we never could bring ourselves to explore the Northwest’s social scene. I’m not sure if it was laziness, lack of interest or a combination of both, but it took us almost two full years experience Kitsap County’s version of a “club.”

Since Scott and I spend most of our time at the gym on base it makes sense that we would eventually become friends with the gym employees. And this past weekend one of these employees invited us to her birthday celebration at a local bar and we felt compelled to go.

I knew we were in trouble when Nicole, the birthday girl, asked if I would wear a dress to her party. Apparently she was going to be sporting some hot new threads and didn’t want to be the only one looking like a cheap whore. I told her that I really didn’t have much of that kind of clothing anymore, but I would do my best. My “best” turned out to be my jean mini and a black V-neck.

When we pulled up outside the “club” I wasn’t sure what to expect. The Bistro looked more like a romantic Italian restaurant than the “it” place to dance. After being carded (thank you bouncer) we walked into what looked exactly like an Italian restaurant but with a dance floor in the middle of it. And though it was just 9 p.m. there was already a crowd of drunken women grinding to what I believe was the Humpty Dance.

And this is where this week’s Top Ten List come in….

Top Ten Things We Saw/Heard on Saturday Night:
10. A couple sporting cowboy hats and Wrangler shirts with snap buttons (unfortunately they were sitting at our table)
9. A herd of plus-size women in tube dresses equipped with corsets being pushed way beyond their limits (they all had flowers behind their ears as well, but that didn't distract from the obvious issue with their appearance)
8. A Ne-Yo look-a-like equipped with hat, suit jacket, and smooth dance moves
7. An Amazon-sized woman (taller than me and in heels) hump dancing a midget sized woman (shorter than Moosh)
6. An oddly dressed older gentleman making slow, deliberate laps around the dance floor, staring longingly at tube dress herd
5. An old couple in khakis and polos slowly walking through the Bistro, obviously they thought this was a romantic Italian restaurant
4. The white trash crowd reaction to Juvenile’s Back the Ass Up, enough said
3. Various large TV screens playing music videos …except for one playing the original Rocky movie
2. The look on my husband’s face when MIA’s song Paper Planes was played by the DJ
1. The waitress explaining how she can’t serve water to the table (we would have to go to the bar to get it) due to the threat of GHB (date rape drug)...that is what she said, I swear to God.