- Just cause there is still more food in my lunch bowl, I don't have to eat it.
- But I really want to, so maybe if I decide to eat it 2 hrs later it's not so bad.
- I snore. I have officially woken myself up with my snoring. It's not too bad, small mammal, possibly piglet like. It could be worse. I've definitely woken up to worse ... ;)
- Microsoft Office Word formatting tool REALLY doesn't like me.
- That I think I may be a cat lady w/o cats. You know, like a dry drunk. I realize what some friends consider part of my "charm" is just very uncomfortable and awkard to others. K-Hill calls this, "social anxiety". The question is, is it theirs, or mine?
- August birthdays are a pain in my summer scheduling butt. Seriously, all that holiday season humping has become a logistical nightmare for properly honoring all the friends & family. Throw in SFUSD's new early August school start date ... What do you think, egg nog or holiday nostalgia? I wonder if there are a lot of August babies in the southern hemisphere, where it's not so "cold" that people must huddle for warmth ... where is my almanac??
- I cannot control my knitting babble at all. I try, I really do. I have good friends that remind me, people who don't knit, find your knitting boring. They don't get it. No, they cannot make the parallel with something they are obsessive about ... stop boring people with your knitting. It's like I'm the kid that didn't learn "Someone can ask you, 'How is it going?' but not really want to know how you are or what you are doing." Honestly if they ask me that, it will devolve to knititng anyhow. Wow pathetic much?
- 95% of the time I use the word "precious" it's meant in sarcasm. I blame HM.
- Not all dry erase markers are created equal. Some smell like earthy @ss and others smell SO clean and fantastic. Why is that? And what indicators should I look for to make proper purchase? I love the smell of the clean kind.
- I suck at knitting things to gauge. I am the chubby lady that knits small.
- I am okay with the word chubby. It makes me feel less fat and more cheerful. I realize I shouldn't describe other people this way even if they are okay with the term.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Crap I'm figuring out: The Update
Monday, April 25, 2011
Bachelorette Sunday
The Manfriend was insistent he was taking the Kid for overnight car camping at Samuel P. Taylor. What a perfect way for father and son to enjoy a Monday furlough day, but to scramble some eggs and fry some bacon on a campfire.
It mattered little to my Godless heathen of a husband that it was Easter -- he promised me they'd burn some Peeps in the honor of it all. Honestly, I was fine subtracting one more obligatory holiday from my calendar. Honestly I was excited to be alone.
The Kid had spent the night at his BFF's house so we had to go pick him up. The Manfriend stopped by his new storage for his camping gear to show me where it was as well. (Can you say HORROR MOVIE BUILDING?)
After picking him up they drop me at the nail salon where I barely get a "bye mom". The salon isn't open yet, so i work my way over to the used bookstore. Used bookstores have such charm for me. They make me feel young in the midst of all that old paper smell. I love that there is a diva orange tabby that sits on the counter and stares disdain at you when you pay. I was overwhelmed by author and genre though. I opted for The Atlantic.
I read it with my breakfast (carnitas scramble) at the counter at Chow. Such a fun read, "How Genius Works" . I liked the short story by Stephen King too, even if it was kind of dark for me these days. A little dose of suicidal tenadancies keeps ya' sharp right?
After a super mellow breakfast, I got a mani/pedi and took my easter egg blue toenails downtown to begin mission, "Get a dress for Dad's retirement ceremony".
The Mall was closed. Macy's was closed. Crate and Barrel was closed (hey! I needed an ice cream scoop!)
Zupan called and said she couldn't get out of her shift that night so there would be no Besties rack of lamb/Easter-esque meal.
That was okay, the whole shopping mission was bringing me down. Being that unclothed in front of mirrors for such a number of hours during the daylight is painful. There was no wine in this situation people. Clothing hangs on the lumps and bumps of my body geography in ways that are more than just "between sizes". Ugh. I found something that will work for Hawaii, but really I'm not IN LOVE with it. I'm settling. That's okay it will get use, and I already got rid of the equivalent dress, so it's a good swap one settle for another ratio.
I ended up meeting up with Zupan and walked her down to her shift on 24th st. I helped her take down bar stools, read some more of my magazine chit chat catch up and drank a juice glass of beer like an old lady. And then I left around 7pm because I wanted to get home before dusk, when old ladies need to donn their shawls and feed their 8 cats.
Anyways, faced with home and realizing it was so late the house depressed me. All the pretty dresses in the world wouldn't have made up for the self loathing at the state my home was in. (That is SUCH a lie.) I had nothing to show for my free time. No laundry, no dishes, no nothin'. I did both, ordered some much craved chinese food and watched absolutely crap t.v. I barely knit.
There was no noise but my own faffing around. It was delightful.
On the otherhand I didn't really have to "wind down" since you know, no-one was whining ... haha. HA! Which meant I stayed up too late watching t.v. trying to fall asleep. Don't misunderstand, I wasn't struggling, it just was that way.
It mattered little to my Godless heathen of a husband that it was Easter -- he promised me they'd burn some Peeps in the honor of it all. Honestly, I was fine subtracting one more obligatory holiday from my calendar. Honestly I was excited to be alone.
The Kid had spent the night at his BFF's house so we had to go pick him up. The Manfriend stopped by his new storage for his camping gear to show me where it was as well. (Can you say HORROR MOVIE BUILDING?)
After picking him up they drop me at the nail salon where I barely get a "bye mom". The salon isn't open yet, so i work my way over to the used bookstore. Used bookstores have such charm for me. They make me feel young in the midst of all that old paper smell. I love that there is a diva orange tabby that sits on the counter and stares disdain at you when you pay. I was overwhelmed by author and genre though. I opted for The Atlantic.
I read it with my breakfast (carnitas scramble) at the counter at Chow. Such a fun read, "How Genius Works" . I liked the short story by Stephen King too, even if it was kind of dark for me these days. A little dose of suicidal tenadancies keeps ya' sharp right?
After a super mellow breakfast, I got a mani/pedi and took my easter egg blue toenails downtown to begin mission, "Get a dress for Dad's retirement ceremony".
The Mall was closed. Macy's was closed. Crate and Barrel was closed (hey! I needed an ice cream scoop!)
Zupan called and said she couldn't get out of her shift that night so there would be no Besties rack of lamb/Easter-esque meal.
That was okay, the whole shopping mission was bringing me down. Being that unclothed in front of mirrors for such a number of hours during the daylight is painful. There was no wine in this situation people. Clothing hangs on the lumps and bumps of my body geography in ways that are more than just "between sizes". Ugh. I found something that will work for Hawaii, but really I'm not IN LOVE with it. I'm settling. That's okay it will get use, and I already got rid of the equivalent dress, so it's a good swap one settle for another ratio.
I ended up meeting up with Zupan and walked her down to her shift on 24th st. I helped her take down bar stools, read some more of my magazine chit chat catch up and drank a juice glass of beer like an old lady. And then I left around 7pm because I wanted to get home before dusk, when old ladies need to donn their shawls and feed their 8 cats.
Anyways, faced with home and realizing it was so late the house depressed me. All the pretty dresses in the world wouldn't have made up for the self loathing at the state my home was in. (That is SUCH a lie.) I had nothing to show for my free time. No laundry, no dishes, no nothin'. I did both, ordered some much craved chinese food and watched absolutely crap t.v. I barely knit.
There was no noise but my own faffing around. It was delightful.
On the otherhand I didn't really have to "wind down" since you know, no-one was whining ... haha. HA! Which meant I stayed up too late watching t.v. trying to fall asleep. Don't misunderstand, I wasn't struggling, it just was that way.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Pump it Up: An 8 yr old Review
It's this Inflatable labrynth down in the old industrial area of town. They serve pizza, make parents sign waivers and even handout inflatable crowns and sceptors for the guests of honor. The air is musty and the colors are bright. The kids go nuts, and usually sleep very well that night.
The Kid: I DO like it. Though, it smells like pizza, sweat and rubber. Really though, air hockey is my favorite. I get to jump a lot.
The Kid: I DO like it. Though, it smells like pizza, sweat and rubber. Really though, air hockey is my favorite. I get to jump a lot.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
On My Kind of Crazy...
Sometimes I like to tell The Manfriend stories. Sometimes they are real life stories that I was somehow mixed up in the thick of things, or they are stories that other people have told me. Sometimes they are stories that I have read on the wild wild interwebs.
I think it is important that I tell him stories, because he lives such a sheltered, insular life. His brushes with crazy are really regulated to the brief moments in the service industry. When he is not at the restaurant, he's primarily at home. I think traffic should be removed from the equation completely.
(I really am generous aren't I? So helpful and fair.)
Me: ...so isn't that weird?
Him: Yes, but you know ... people ...
Me: Yes, but seriously, I couldn't help but think ... who? What kind of crazy is that? I mean I'm not that kind of crazy.
Him:
Me: Well remember, this kind of crazy sleeps next to you every night ... except for when I'm sleeping ... WITH MY EYES OPEN
I think it is important that I tell him stories, because he lives such a sheltered, insular life. His brushes with crazy are really regulated to the brief moments in the service industry. When he is not at the restaurant, he's primarily at home. I think traffic should be removed from the equation completely.
(I really am generous aren't I? So helpful and fair.)
Me: ...so isn't that weird?
Him: Yes, but you know ... people ...
Me: Yes, but seriously, I couldn't help but think ... who? What kind of crazy is that? I mean I'm not that kind of crazy.
Him:
Me: Well remember, this kind of crazy sleeps next to you every night ... except for when I'm sleeping ... WITH MY EYES OPEN
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Adventures in dough making
I made more meat pasties this weekend, using leftover roast pork from a friend's family dinner. We had whole roast pig @ Incanto and it was fabulous.
The wine wasn't so bad either wink wink nudge nudge.
I was asked to take some leftover roast pork home to share with the boys, and of course I didn't refuse. I admit that I did not realize JUST how much it was until the next morning.
Well after yelling at everyone for inept behavior I decided I would make change pace and direction. We would go out, do some errands, have some lunch, return and make dough. The dough could be baked that day or the next, but it would be done ...
Anyhow, suffice to say, knitting beckoned after badgering the family and scrubbing toilet with bleach. So I wrapped up my dough to bake the following day.
I opened my fridge the next morning and this dough beast was climbing out of the cellophane... That thing grew ... and was punch kneaded and regrown I think 3 times by then. I learned to worry about a term called "over proofing" which at first I thought HM meant "over poofing".
Anyways, it was poofy when I got home, but I decided to stick it out and make my pork pasties. The Manfriend pulled it, seasoned one with bbq and the other with spring onion and olive oil that I wrapped with fontina cheese (still too dry). We were ready to go. The problem was ... me. Rolling that dough took more upper body strength than I have. Seriously, it sent me back to the push-up regimen. The worst part of it was when you would roll the dough out, it would spring back.
My smarter cooking and baking friends tried to explain gluttons, and likening my experience to pizza dough and allowing the dough to rest after kneading ...
Whatevs. Rolling the dough out took a lot of work. I was so angry with it when I finished my second sheet pan, I didn't even bother trying to save the rest of the dough. It went straight in the compost.
Also the pasties were ugly. Seriously so ugly that even if I could take littlesnoopy good pictures, I wouldn't have shot them. Well, maybe just for the pure, "can you believe that crap?!?" pleasure.
Final product was brought into work to share with co-workers and co-knitters alike. The pasties were finished. And honestly? I think I am too ... at least with THAT kind of dough, for a little while.
The wine wasn't so bad either wink wink nudge nudge.
I was asked to take some leftover roast pork home to share with the boys, and of course I didn't refuse. I admit that I did not realize JUST how much it was until the next morning.
Well after yelling at everyone for inept behavior I decided I would make change pace and direction. We would go out, do some errands, have some lunch, return and make dough. The dough could be baked that day or the next, but it would be done ...
Anyhow, suffice to say, knitting beckoned after badgering the family and scrubbing toilet with bleach. So I wrapped up my dough to bake the following day.
I opened my fridge the next morning and this dough beast was climbing out of the cellophane... That thing grew ... and was punch kneaded and regrown I think 3 times by then. I learned to worry about a term called "over proofing" which at first I thought HM meant "over poofing".
Anyways, it was poofy when I got home, but I decided to stick it out and make my pork pasties. The Manfriend pulled it, seasoned one with bbq and the other with spring onion and olive oil that I wrapped with fontina cheese (still too dry). We were ready to go. The problem was ... me. Rolling that dough took more upper body strength than I have. Seriously, it sent me back to the push-up regimen. The worst part of it was when you would roll the dough out, it would spring back.
My smarter cooking and baking friends tried to explain gluttons, and likening my experience to pizza dough and allowing the dough to rest after kneading ...
Whatevs. Rolling the dough out took a lot of work. I was so angry with it when I finished my second sheet pan, I didn't even bother trying to save the rest of the dough. It went straight in the compost.
Also the pasties were ugly. Seriously so ugly that even if I could take littlesnoopy good pictures, I wouldn't have shot them. Well, maybe just for the pure, "can you believe that crap?!?" pleasure.
Final product was brought into work to share with co-workers and co-knitters alike. The pasties were finished. And honestly? I think I am too ... at least with THAT kind of dough, for a little while.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Kitchenware & Greed
Today I took some time. I perused the web. I went to see:
I found tentenknits has got an excellent ribbon simple drop stitch pattern that I am going to use for my novelty fuzzy brown yarn that I've pulled out 2 times. I got this yarn at Stiches West 2 years ago .. and as much as it makes me angry, I can't let it go. Wow, sounds like an ex-bf eh? haha. Well better to have dysfunction with a yarn than a person.
I found Pioneer Woman having a contest for All Clad cookware. WTF. Really? That's beyond impressive. I probably don't need anymore cookware. The Manfriend looks around anxiously whenever I return from Sur La Table or Crate and Barrel these days with new sheet pans or just cupcake liners. Still ... it would be so nice. I've posted on contests before, because the post has been interesting enough to comment on and said, I decline any possible drawing. Not This Time. Dooode (as The Kid says), it's ALL CLAD. I would learn to breakdown a whole chicken for HM to justify it. I know there is no logic or correlation to that statement, just go with it.
Ugly truth: As much as I appreciate nice kitchenware I will always keep a Non Stick around AND I don't like the nice wok I have. It doesn't seem to work well on my stove. Stove not range people. I'm not a fancy lass, just a cranky one.
Tomorrow there is PTA and afterwards I need to pull some cookie dough out of my sunshine spot to bake for the bake sale the following evening. Most people don't need to prep cookie dough two days in advance, but this work thing gets in the way.
Anyways, I keep thinking how am I going to host 2 batches of cookie dough in the fridge, it's chockful from my grocery run with Lu, AND the boys have post swimming lesson pizza leftovers. Drat. I swear unlike some women getting the logistics of my fridge contents to fit is like a freakin' rubix cube workout. ugh.
No matter. My cookies will be big and pretty and all the children will want one, so HA!
- who was cooking what
- who was knitting what
- what i could possibly cook or knit
- what the heck ding dong donkey kong dress am I going to wear to The Colonel's retirement ceremony in Hawaii.
I found tentenknits has got an excellent ribbon simple drop stitch pattern that I am going to use for my novelty fuzzy brown yarn that I've pulled out 2 times. I got this yarn at Stiches West 2 years ago .. and as much as it makes me angry, I can't let it go. Wow, sounds like an ex-bf eh? haha. Well better to have dysfunction with a yarn than a person.
I found Pioneer Woman having a contest for All Clad cookware. WTF. Really? That's beyond impressive. I probably don't need anymore cookware. The Manfriend looks around anxiously whenever I return from Sur La Table or Crate and Barrel these days with new sheet pans or just cupcake liners. Still ... it would be so nice. I've posted on contests before, because the post has been interesting enough to comment on and said, I decline any possible drawing. Not This Time. Dooode (as The Kid says), it's ALL CLAD. I would learn to breakdown a whole chicken for HM to justify it. I know there is no logic or correlation to that statement, just go with it.
Ugly truth: As much as I appreciate nice kitchenware I will always keep a Non Stick around AND I don't like the nice wok I have. It doesn't seem to work well on my stove. Stove not range people. I'm not a fancy lass, just a cranky one.
Tomorrow there is PTA and afterwards I need to pull some cookie dough out of my sunshine spot to bake for the bake sale the following evening. Most people don't need to prep cookie dough two days in advance, but this work thing gets in the way.
Anyways, I keep thinking how am I going to host 2 batches of cookie dough in the fridge, it's chockful from my grocery run with Lu, AND the boys have post swimming lesson pizza leftovers. Drat. I swear unlike some women getting the logistics of my fridge contents to fit is like a freakin' rubix cube workout. ugh.
No matter. My cookies will be big and pretty and all the children will want one, so HA!
World's Mildest Jalapeno
I ate the world's mildest jalapeno.
Lu swung by my desk at work -- back on her supermodel diet decided to see if she could pawn off half of her carbs (*ahem I mean Vietnamese Banh Mi sandwich) on me.
Aww sweet lady, she could. Though my lazy beast belly was rather odd this morning (which I blame on the cassoulet, but not really since it was sooo good) I was still hungry.
She gave me ALL her cilantro and ALL her jalapenos. Ahh nice lady.
Yes the jalapenos had seeds. No they were not cooked.
Yes they were the mildest jalapenos in the world.
And hell yes, I finished the sandwich.
*The cassoulet came from here: Chez Papa during my lovely afterschool date with Lu.
Lu swung by my desk at work -- back on her supermodel diet decided to see if she could pawn off half of her carbs (*ahem I mean Vietnamese Banh Mi sandwich) on me.
Aww sweet lady, she could. Though my lazy beast belly was rather odd this morning (which I blame on the cassoulet, but not really since it was sooo good) I was still hungry.
She gave me ALL her cilantro and ALL her jalapenos. Ahh nice lady.
Yes the jalapenos had seeds. No they were not cooked.
Yes they were the mildest jalapenos in the world.
And hell yes, I finished the sandwich.
*The cassoulet came from here: Chez Papa during my lovely afterschool date with Lu.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Krazy Knitting
I have succumbed to the knitting krazies. It's really bad right now.
Then again, so are things at work.
So back to what I know and do ... overcompensation mode.
Things were going along swiftly with my Moody Kerchief until I as defeated by YO K2tog. I know right? like WTF? The world's simplest two stitches. I'd say it's easier than Knit, Purl, since there isn't all this directional change right?
Well I think it was because there are repeating rows of the YO k2tog and one must pay attention to how the yarnovers lay ...
Anyways, I after jacking that, fixing that ... I finished it! Well technically it needs a loose bindoff, a block and some weave-ins. But WHATEVS, my point is there are no more stitches to go clickety clack on the needles.
So I returned to what should be called the "Endless Cardigan". I brought it with me over the bridge and had my sister in law try it on. She can sport it for sure. Knowing it has a recipient also has given me a little more spunk for the project. Okay not as much as I actually need.
What can I say? That's a lot of stockinette. The good thing is I get to benefit from my Knit Along groups projects and can tell you -- I will not be increasing so much. There is a lot of volume in this design.
So ... what to do? What to do? How about another shawl? How about that fancy stripes one we saw the HM working on? Cool Beans!
Truth? Slow Start. Also, this is some skinny yarn and some skinny needles. I know not as small as Little Snoopy habitually uses but still ... for me this is tough stuff, let's hope I don't jack this up too!
I wanted to knit at lunch today. But there was no time. It's quiet like a morgue there lately. Quiet like death sort of squashes any desire to be knit in public. I will just have to wait to unleash my crazy in the crazy of my home.
Then again, so are things at work.
So back to what I know and do ... overcompensation mode.
Things were going along swiftly with my Moody Kerchief until I as defeated by YO K2tog. I know right? like WTF? The world's simplest two stitches. I'd say it's easier than Knit, Purl, since there isn't all this directional change right?
Well I think it was because there are repeating rows of the YO k2tog and one must pay attention to how the yarnovers lay ...
Anyways, I after jacking that, fixing that ... I finished it! Well technically it needs a loose bindoff, a block and some weave-ins. But WHATEVS, my point is there are no more stitches to go clickety clack on the needles.
So I returned to what should be called the "Endless Cardigan". I brought it with me over the bridge and had my sister in law try it on. She can sport it for sure. Knowing it has a recipient also has given me a little more spunk for the project. Okay not as much as I actually need.
What can I say? That's a lot of stockinette. The good thing is I get to benefit from my Knit Along groups projects and can tell you -- I will not be increasing so much. There is a lot of volume in this design.
So ... what to do? What to do? How about another shawl? How about that fancy stripes one we saw the HM working on? Cool Beans!
Truth? Slow Start. Also, this is some skinny yarn and some skinny needles. I know not as small as Little Snoopy habitually uses but still ... for me this is tough stuff, let's hope I don't jack this up too!
I wanted to knit at lunch today. But there was no time. It's quiet like a morgue there lately. Quiet like death sort of squashes any desire to be knit in public. I will just have to wait to unleash my crazy in the crazy of my home.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Comfort
I was tired this morning, but I slept well.
I could've done with some lounging. A nice fat cup of Capricorn's Kona coffee and the local news. The Manfriend rifling some kind of periodical next to me. Maybe a few rows of knitting.
Alas it was Thursday and 'twas not to be. Manfriend was already showered and picking out the longsleeve to another long day of that working for a living crap.
Me: Dear, you are my mashed potatoes.
Manfriend: Aww that's nice, but no! no! I am your braised chicken in white wine with celery root instead of fennel.
Me: Yes dear you are. That was very nice.
Manfriend: Yes it was. I was pleased. It did take a half hour longer than I expected.
Me: It was lovely dear.
I could've done with some lounging. A nice fat cup of Capricorn's Kona coffee and the local news. The Manfriend rifling some kind of periodical next to me. Maybe a few rows of knitting.
Alas it was Thursday and 'twas not to be. Manfriend was already showered and picking out the longsleeve to another long day of that working for a living crap.
Me: Dear, you are my mashed potatoes.
Manfriend: Aww that's nice, but no! no! I am your braised chicken in white wine with celery root instead of fennel.
Me: Yes dear you are. That was very nice.
Manfriend: Yes it was. I was pleased. It did take a half hour longer than I expected.
Me: It was lovely dear.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Push-ups Part III
I didn't get through my set last night. I did a few. The Man friend said, "don't let me stop you" in a nice way.
Meh.
I'll try again tonight.
Meh.
I'll try again tonight.
Knitting on another round ...
See that there was me tryin' to be funny, again.
I joined the boozer makes a mistake on another glass of wine knitting club. There are a few of us on there. I double dog dare you to allow someone to take a picture of you buzz knitting. It's not pretty. Your face is all scrunched up. You're serious about your knit.
You count, double-check, and count again. Somethin' just ain't right.
Finally when you've poked yourself a few times and split your gorgeous Madeline (I wanna marry this yarn) tosh you just leave it in a puddle on your knitting chair and brush your wino teeth and call it a night.
You try hard not to dream about yarn overs and knitting 2 together.
Tomorrow is another day.
I joined the boozer makes a mistake on another glass of wine knitting club. There are a few of us on there. I double dog dare you to allow someone to take a picture of you buzz knitting. It's not pretty. Your face is all scrunched up. You're serious about your knit.
You count, double-check, and count again. Somethin' just ain't right.
Finally when you've poked yourself a few times and split your gorgeous Madeline (I wanna marry this yarn) tosh you just leave it in a puddle on your knitting chair and brush your wino teeth and call it a night.
You try hard not to dream about yarn overs and knitting 2 together.
Tomorrow is another day.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Push up Regimen: Episode Dos
Okay so I admit the second attempt was really bad.
The regimen was this sent via email:
-- ellen, you should do the following 5 sets tonight:
6, 8, 6, 6, 7+ (i.e. 7+ = 7 or more)
bah ha HA! is what I said and say.
I tried anyhow. I did, I swear to god I did my best to think about my form even if the elbow dips were tiny. I asked Man friend for help again. He looked slightly repulsed, but it may have been that I was sort of making out with the hardwood floors again while he was trying to brush his teeth.
He gave me some quip comments ahem I mean tips, a brief demo in the air and then said, "Why don't you just do the GIRL ones?"
argh. oh geez. man. hit me in the boob why don't you? Okay whatever. I need to put a check in the checklist box.
I found I can't do girl very well either. *sigh.
It's true. In fact b/c my fat arse is so ... fat all that weight on my knees was WORSE.
So I concentrated again on my elbow dips and they were sad and small and not exactly the above mentioned numbers. I felt sadness well within. I tried to tell myself it was because I was tired and waited to do them before going to bed. I don't think coach will be okay with it.
I checked my email late Sunday night because I don' tknow I was looking for something, and I was so shocked by what I found, I can't recall at the moment what I was looking for. What I found was this.
hello soldiers,
-- harrigan, you should do the following 5 sets:
9,12,9,9, 11+
-- ellen, you do:
7,10,7,7, 9+
I may have forgotten to mention that harrigan is on the regimen too. I asked him if he did set 3. He said no, he was aiming for a M, W, F schedule. I jumped on that bandwagon. Um yeah! me too! me too!
Then he said he was thinking about tacking on identical set but for sit-ups since he loves the beer. Now what kills me is Harrigan strikes me as a workout kind of guy. He's fit. And now I have to realize this jerkoffsky is NATURALLY so. The regimen is his attempt at improving personal fitness. bastardo!
So I says, "Why are you such an overachiever."
I know Coach HM is going to ask me if I did my weekend push-ups. I know she will give me the side-eye when I tell her that I am saving them for tonight, that I'm getting on the M, W, F, Harrigan plan... I know when I try to tell her, it's okay, because I swam on Sunday she will say it won't count. Just like on Thursday when I went to the yoga...
I will have to try again tonight, just so I can look Coach in the eye tomorrow, Ha!
The regimen was this sent via email:
-- ellen, you should do the following 5 sets tonight:
6, 8, 6, 6, 7+ (i.e. 7+ = 7 or more)
bah ha HA! is what I said and say.
I tried anyhow. I did, I swear to god I did my best to think about my form even if the elbow dips were tiny. I asked Man friend for help again. He looked slightly repulsed, but it may have been that I was sort of making out with the hardwood floors again while he was trying to brush his teeth.
He gave me some quip comments ahem I mean tips, a brief demo in the air and then said, "Why don't you just do the GIRL ones?"
argh. oh geez. man. hit me in the boob why don't you? Okay whatever. I need to put a check in the checklist box.
I found I can't do girl very well either. *sigh.
It's true. In fact b/c my fat arse is so ... fat all that weight on my knees was WORSE.
So I concentrated again on my elbow dips and they were sad and small and not exactly the above mentioned numbers. I felt sadness well within. I tried to tell myself it was because I was tired and waited to do them before going to bed. I don't think coach will be okay with it.
I checked my email late Sunday night because I don' tknow I was looking for something, and I was so shocked by what I found, I can't recall at the moment what I was looking for. What I found was this.
hello soldiers,
-- harrigan, you should do the following 5 sets:
9,12,9,9, 11+
-- ellen, you do:
7,10,7,7, 9+
I may have forgotten to mention that harrigan is on the regimen too. I asked him if he did set 3. He said no, he was aiming for a M, W, F schedule. I jumped on that bandwagon. Um yeah! me too! me too!
Then he said he was thinking about tacking on identical set but for sit-ups since he loves the beer. Now what kills me is Harrigan strikes me as a workout kind of guy. He's fit. And now I have to realize this jerkoffsky is NATURALLY so. The regimen is his attempt at improving personal fitness. bastardo!
So I says, "Why are you such an overachiever."
I know Coach HM is going to ask me if I did my weekend push-ups. I know she will give me the side-eye when I tell her that I am saving them for tonight, that I'm getting on the M, W, F, Harrigan plan... I know when I try to tell her, it's okay, because I swam on Sunday she will say it won't count. Just like on Thursday when I went to the yoga...
I will have to try again tonight, just so I can look Coach in the eye tomorrow, Ha!
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Accomplishments, More Excuses and the Random
Tomorrow is Monday folks, and I'm okay to tell you, I'm hanging in there. Somehow I will get out of it with a few things work and personal done. I cannot bear anymore weight.
I managed to participate in bringing decent snack besides a bag of veggie chips to the soccer match this Saturday so I feel like I appropriately earned Soccer Mom this weekend.
Much to our mutual amazement the Manfriend and I bonded over 8am coffee, local news and churning through our overstuffed dressers to get rid of 3 big bags of unnecessary clothing and an ugly old college roasting pan.
I did swim. It was short and sweeter than usual despite some weird new clicking/soreness I get in my shoulder. Not the joint, but like where they give you shots. Drat this age = decline thing is really getting on my nerves.
While out swimming I found out it was the last day the pool would be open. The Mission Pool is the only outdoor public pool in San Francisco. Many are not surprised at this, since we live in a foggy city, but if you've ever been "a swimmer" at any point in your life, you probably know, that nothing compares to swimming outside. I love the overcast swim. Your head doesn't overheat, there is no glare between the sun and the water, and usually it thins out the crowd. Anyhow, they are closing the pool to do some remodeling for almost 2 years?? (let's hope they level out the women's locker room floor and deslipperyfy it, and remove some odd recreation swim stains on the walls -- hey I said it was Public!)
After my swim, I headed up to Bi-Rite and got some provisions for the family. The Mission was chockful of people, outfitted in their sunshine best. Everyone seemed pleased to be in the warm weather on a weekend. I think as long as you didn't have any expectation of getting anything quickly people were relatively pleasant. I wish I had taken pictures of it's bright energy, regardless of how much black some of the hipsters wore. It's crowded all along the 18th / Dolores corridor. The line for the Bi-Rite creamery ice cream went on and on ...
I bought mine with the groceries. I was on my way to pick up The Kid at the L-R household (I even got them some ice cream too! But there I was walking up 18th street, and I was going to cast on the Moody Kerchief in the evening. Imagiknit is just a block or two away ... surely I could benefit from size 10 Addis ...
So yes, the ice cream ALMOST melted while I went in for needles, and walked out with two hanks of Madelinetosh sock yarn for a shawl for my BFF AL. I am so weak. I laughed rather awkwardly with the nice shop girl about me always buying needles. She's like, oh you must be in the middle of a "needle conversion".
Why yes, yes I am.
In fact I feel a knitting post coming on.
See you there.
I managed to participate in bringing decent snack besides a bag of veggie chips to the soccer match this Saturday so I feel like I appropriately earned Soccer Mom this weekend.
Much to our mutual amazement the Manfriend and I bonded over 8am coffee, local news and churning through our overstuffed dressers to get rid of 3 big bags of unnecessary clothing and an ugly old college roasting pan.
I did swim. It was short and sweeter than usual despite some weird new clicking/soreness I get in my shoulder. Not the joint, but like where they give you shots. Drat this age = decline thing is really getting on my nerves.
While out swimming I found out it was the last day the pool would be open. The Mission Pool is the only outdoor public pool in San Francisco. Many are not surprised at this, since we live in a foggy city, but if you've ever been "a swimmer" at any point in your life, you probably know, that nothing compares to swimming outside. I love the overcast swim. Your head doesn't overheat, there is no glare between the sun and the water, and usually it thins out the crowd. Anyhow, they are closing the pool to do some remodeling for almost 2 years?? (let's hope they level out the women's locker room floor and deslipperyfy it, and remove some odd recreation swim stains on the walls -- hey I said it was Public!)
After my swim, I headed up to Bi-Rite and got some provisions for the family. The Mission was chockful of people, outfitted in their sunshine best. Everyone seemed pleased to be in the warm weather on a weekend. I think as long as you didn't have any expectation of getting anything quickly people were relatively pleasant. I wish I had taken pictures of it's bright energy, regardless of how much black some of the hipsters wore. It's crowded all along the 18th / Dolores corridor. The line for the Bi-Rite creamery ice cream went on and on ...
I bought mine with the groceries. I was on my way to pick up The Kid at the L-R household (I even got them some ice cream too! But there I was walking up 18th street, and I was going to cast on the Moody Kerchief in the evening. Imagiknit is just a block or two away ... surely I could benefit from size 10 Addis ...
So yes, the ice cream ALMOST melted while I went in for needles, and walked out with two hanks of Madelinetosh sock yarn for a shawl for my BFF AL. I am so weak. I laughed rather awkwardly with the nice shop girl about me always buying needles. She's like, oh you must be in the middle of a "needle conversion".
Why yes, yes I am.
In fact I feel a knitting post coming on.
See you there.
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