Sunday, February 24, 2013

I'm finally doing it.

That's right, Jillian Michaels' 30 Day Shred.  I've been doing an hour of cardio every day for something like three years, even during the months I was pregnant, but I'm looking for something different.  In October, I became interested in lifting weights, but that's only feasible of weights are available, which they are not in my current situation.  I'd heard a lot about the 30DS as a way to lose the baby weight on the pregnancy forums I used to stalk, so now that I'm going to have some time on my hands, I decided to suck it up and try it.  Jillian scares the crap out of me based solely on what I've seen of her on the Biggest Loser, but I have high hopes for the program.  I'm going to start March 1st, because it makes my OCD little mind happy, and spend the entire month in pain from what I've read.  I'll post updates here with my usual blog posts and at the end I may even post pictures.  Wish me luck and if I die, bury my stuff with me...because it's mine. 

Friday, February 22, 2013

French fries for breakfast.

I eat fries a lot in India.  Our housekeeper makes awesome fries, so that's what I have for breakfast most days.  I had fries, pineapple, and Diet Coke the other day.  It was glorious and it prepared me for a long day of sitting on my ass in front of a computer. 

My brain hurts from all the thinking I've been doing, but my dissertation is really coming along.  I've finally got the plot kinks worked out, rearranged all the scenes, cut a bunch of stuff, and wrote an entirely new first chapter.  About half the chapters get new scenes, and I'm adding another chapter at the end, so I've got a lot of work left to do.  It's a different beast, but I think my committee will like it. 

All our stuff from the States was supposed to get here on Tuesday, but here we are, shipment-less.  Eli got a call that says it should be ready this Tuesday, but I'm not holding my breath.  It would be great to wear something other than the two pairs of yoga pants and two long-sleeve shirts I packed, but hey, that's my own fault. 

Eli got us invited to a cocktail party thrown by the company moving our stuff.  He wanted to go because it was at a nice hotel near our house with free alcohol and free appetizers.  Let me preface the rest of this story by saying that Eli doesn't go to many cocktail parties, and certainly none thrown by professional companies.  I figured the people there would all be shmoozers only interested in talking about how awesome they are.  Turns out, I was right.  Keep in mind that I didn't have anything remotely appropriate to wear to a cocktail party.  So we show up, Eli in his cargo pants, sneakers and t-shirt, me in yoga pants, sneakers, and t-shirt.  We were styling, let me tell you.  I at least wore my fancy cloth coat and just refused to remove it.  In the dim lighting, I looked almost stylish if you ignore the bright yellow and teal sneakers.  People kept coming up to us and presenting their business cards with both hands.  They looked upset and confused that Eli didn't have any cards to hand out, and it was shortly after that they realized we were phonies and started ignoring us.  Sitting next to us was the CIO of Pepsico and a VP of something in Walmart.  And their wives of course.  Wearing suits and fancy dresses.  Oh yeah, I was having a blast.  I downed four glasses of mediocre wine in quick succession and an entire plate of pepperoni (if you were in India, you'd eat all the pepperoni too if you could find it).  Eli thought it was funny until he realized there was no more pepperoni.  After the first fifteen minutes, we mostly just chatted between the two of us.  After another hour and lots of wine, I was suddenly a lot more social.  Pepsico's wife said something about how I know all about using wine to make the best of things, and I figured it was time to go.  I didn't think I'd done anything to reveal my inebriation, aside from the missing pepperoni, but I might have missed something.  I told Eli to down his beer so we could get out of there and have a real dinner.  Of course, we went straight home after that and I didn't get a real dinner.  Probably because I fell asleep shortly after walking in the door.  I'd told Eli I wanted some McDonald's and he said I'd had enough fries for the day.  I had chocolate ice cream for breakfast the next morning.

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Stickers as measurements of personal worth.

I was having a bit of a pity party earlier, with a lot of questioning of my writing skills.  Sometimes the inner editor is an asshole.  I decided to take a break and play with Dante for a little bit.  I walked into his room and he smiled at me, then handed me a little circular sticker that says "Well done" with a caterpillar on it.  It was a beautiful moment, and it reminded me that reading is subjective.  I may have been beating myself about how good of a job I'm doing with my writing, but my baby says "well done."  And really, he's the best judge I could ask for. 

As promised, pictures of Eli impersonating some Bahamian flamingos in the hopes that they won't attack.

It's all part of the plan.

As a bonus, Eli has a giant cannon between his legs.