Sunday, November 22, 2009

Five.

I was happy with four, really I was. That there's my problem, you see. I started out this year saying "Hell yeah, I'm gonna run five 5ks this year!" The first one sucked, but was exciting. The second, third and especially the fourth, really sucked and weren't quite as exciting as that first 5k high. I had the fifth one scheduled and then (miracle of miracles) I had to go to my Grandparents' 50th Anniversary that day and couldn't go to the race.

And you know what, besides a little disappointment, I was perfectly okay with not reaching my goal of five 5ks. I had made my peace with it, especially after the Cheetah Run absolutely kicked my ass.

Sure, there was a little nagging voice in my head saying "look, you need to do another one. You said you'd do five, and you need to do five." but he was so easily squashed by the memories of the suckiness of the previous ones that I really wasn't worried about it.

Then The BFF (bless her little, pea-picking heart) sent me an email at work one day a couple weeks ago.

"Any interest in doing this 5k with me?"
"Yes, actually." (Where the HELL did that come from?! That couldn't have been me!)

And then the dread set in. My thought process went something like this: "Oh my God, I have to do this again? What the hell am I thinking? Although, it would be nice to actually accomplish my goal. Yeah, but dude, they suck! I don't want to do this. I don't want to do this. I don't want to do this."

And most of the way to the course, I repeated that mantra. "I don't want to do this. I don't want to do this. I don't want to do this."

But, I did.

Here's The BFF and I with the Mayor of Santaland! Who knew that (1) there was a Santaland, and (2) it had a mayor who frequented 5ks? (ps...does he not look like a Willy Wonka character?! lol)

Yeah, it's all fun and games before the torture starts.

The 5k was through a local drive-through holiday lights display. Most of the first mile was a nice flat loop out and back, and then it went two times up through the loop where the lights display was. OH. MY. GOD. the hills. I will have nightmares about those hills. One hill that went up for ever and ever and ever. Then down a steep hill, then up a smaller hill, then down a steep hill, then up another freaking hill that went on for ever and ever and ever again, then down a steep hill.

I have never been so close to giving up in all my life. After the third hill on that loop, I really thought that I was going to finish the first lap around and give up. I very, very seriously considered stopping when I rounded the corner and saw the first hill looming in front of me. And the two-mile marker midway up was just a slap in the face. I couldn't do it. I couldn't face doing those hills again and going through that hell. It was cold. I couldn't feel my hands, I couldn't breathe, and when I did, it was icy daggers in my chest. I wasn't even two miles in yet, and had three huge, crazy-ass hills standing in my way.

And I didn't want to do the damn 5k in the first place.

Luc,kily, as I rounded that corner and saw that hill, I also caught a glimpse of two of my co-workers just a couple steps infront of me. They had started the race as walkers. As walkers, and they had passed me. Which isn't really that scandalous, since I'm used to getting passed by walkers when I do 5ks. But they were my co-workers. One, I didn't want to look bad infront of them, since they knew I started as a runner, and two, I was so focused on catching up with them that I temporarily forgot about my determination to give up, I turned the corner and started up those damn hills one last time.

And I finished that damn race. I finished my FIFTH 5k of 2009. As much as I didn't want to, I accomplished the goal I set back in May. I have actually completely completed a goal. Other than my wedding, I am almost 100% positive that I can't say that about anything else in my life.

I didn't want to, but I did, and I'm glad.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Practically perfect in every way...

I know that I'm not perfect, and I know that I can be annoying (who me?!), frustrating (never!), and sometimes bitchy (mood swings? Unheard of!). In spite of these things, my husband loves me; I know this to be true. And (admittedly) unlike myself, he's very good at keeping criticism to himself.

However...

Yesterday, while cleaning, I gathered up all the DVD cases and random loose DVDs that have been floating around our house for the past couple of months.

This picture tells you two things: (1) I have an unhealthy obsession with Gilmore Girls (all but two of those loose DVDs are from different GG seasons), and (2) I really suck at putting DVDs away. It's one of the only things that The Hubs will actually (in his gently nudging way) complain about. I leave DVDs in the player, on top of the player, on top of the TV, next to the TV, close to the TV, and just about anywhere but in the case and on the shelf.

So I gathered them all up, and on my third (yes, third) trip carrying DVDs into the living room from our bedroom, The Hubs said, "Where the hell were those?! I didn't even see them in there!"

Oopsie...remember that you love me, honey!

But, in the end, I made good and everything was back where it belongs. All the DVDs were in their cases and back in alphabetical order on the shelves.

And all was right with the world. At least until I decide to watch the whole Gilmore Girls series again.

(I love you, honey!)

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Rinse and repeat.

Stayed in my calories today. Only made it 2 miles on the treadmill, but I'm still calling it a victory.

Finding it hard to stay optimistic with PMS looming her ugly head and the fact that my Diabetes medication is resulting in gastrointestinal explosions that would rival Old Faithful.

Oh, was that TMI? Welcome to my world. It's lovely here.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Proof


Eternal Optimist

So...today I start diet and c25k again. For the gazillionth time.

Here are the facts:

I weighed 250.2 this morning.
I have my A1c appointment in exactly 3 weeks.
My A1c was at 6.4 three months ago.
I want my A1c to be at 6.2 or lower when I get tested.
I also want to lose between 8 and 10.3 pounds by my test.

I stayed within my calories today, and I'm now trying to talk myself into changing my clothes and setting foot on that treadmill for the first time in months.

Why is that first step always the hardest?

I'll update you on my progress (and hopefully not the lack thereof) later tonight.

Ugh.

Monday, October 19, 2009

October 18, 2009

So, I should have written this post yesterday, but I was a little preoccupied with my husband and my anniversary and all...

Better late than never, right? So without further ado:

The Hubs was incredibly sweet and sent 18 amazing roses to me at work on Friday. As most women will agree, there's little better in this world than getting flowers at work. It's pretty much the best - and even better when they're absolutely gorgeous, as these were:

It just so happens that we got married on Sweetest Day, which I realize is not a "real" holiday, and isn't even celebrated throughout the whole country. Alas, it is celebrated here in the mid-west, and we now get to take full advantage of the fact that our anniversary will fall on or near Sweetest Day every year.

How did we take advantage of it this year? The Ohio Renaissance Festival's Romance Weekend. One, we love RenFest, and two, what's better than a little medieval romance on your anniversary?

We started out the day with our favorite show: Guido Crescendo (left) and Dirk Perfect (right) as The Swordsmen:
We walked around and meandered through the tons and tons of artisan shops until it was time for the big event: a medieval mass vow renewal. We met at the chapel and renewed our vows in a renaissance ceremony with about 2o other couples.

During our wedding, I somehow managed to hold myself together and made it through the whole ceremony while only shedding a couple dainty tears. For some reason, I couldn't hold it together in front of 20 other couples at the Renaissance Festival! What's up with that?! While I was saying my vows, the tears just started flowing and wouldn't stop. It was very touching.

Here we are with the pastor who performed the ceremony:

And here we are with our ceremonial certificate:

After the vow renewal, we were both starting to get hungry, and you know what that means...

A giant turkey leg for The Hubs! (I personally think it's grosser than gross, but whatever floats his boat...)

For me, heaven is:
Funnel Cake! (Although, this one was waaaaaay too crispy.)

After the good eats, it was time for one of the crowd favorites:
The Joust! This was our side's knight, Sir Marcus. He kind of sucked, as the other guy beat him in all the games of skill and kicked his butt in the actual joust. Oh well, the horses were beautiful, and - bonus - they're rescue horses! Yay!

We had both decided that we would get each other's anniversary presents at the festival, and The Hubs picked out this amazing, hand-made walking stick. As a bonus, the artisan hand-carved his initials in it for us while we waited!

The gift I picked was this beautiful ceramic ring/jewelry bowl:
I love it!

One of my favorite parts of the Renaissance Festival is the fact that they always have amazing artisans there performing their crafts. We watched this glassblower make a beautiful mug:

And then we couldn't resist bringing two home for ourselves:

I'm not sure if you can tell from the picture, but they are HUGE! They probably hold about 20 ounces, and they probably weigh more than a pound a piece! Incredibly heavy and beautiful. (And ex-pen-SIVE, at $40 each, but we couldn't resist!)

There were so many beautiful bowls and ornaments and vases in his shop, we could have easily spent another $200 there, but instead, we managed to just keep it to those mugs and a $20 ornament:

We walked around some more and decided on a whim to stop and watch the belly dancers. OH. MY. GOD. if I could do that, my husband would be a very happy man. I have video that I hope to post sometime soon, but for now, you'll just have to take these pictures and use your imagination...

First, she stole someone's beer and did an entire routine with it on her head:
And then, she moved on to something a little more *ahem* dangerous...

They were amazing, and made a chilly day awfully H-O-T.

When we got home, The Hubs took his pre-work nap, and it wasn't until he had been at work for a half an hour that we remembered that we hadn't done any of the other anniversary things we were supposed to do yesterday.

Oh well, that means two days of anniversary! LOL

So, tonight when we got home, The Hubs made dinner, and we had some dessert...
Two layers of saran wrap and three layers of aluminum foil later, and voila! Year old cake! Yummm...
We were both a wee bit apprehensive to actually try it, but once we did, we were pleasantly surprised at how well it held up. It was a little soggy from the strawberry filling, but tasted and smelled like fresh, yummy cake. Thanks to The BFF one year later for making our delish wedding cake!

After the cake, it was time for us to reaffirm our wedding vows, which we read from a copy of our wedding ceremony. Then it was time for the part I was most excited about...

I'm not sure if I ever told you about our unity ceremony. Our mothers each brought up a piece of ribbon and our pastor held it while we "tied the knot". We made the ribbons long enough so that we could tie a new knot every year on our anniversary...
And that, my dear friends, was my very first wedding anniversary. It was a great day, and I'm definitely looking forward to many more.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

I am

It's been a month since my last blog. I'm still here, lurking around everyone else's posts and following along silently. Some of you have commented or emailed to check in on me, and for that, I am grateful.

Work is crazy. Apparently we've done our own version of the Louisiana Purchase, and that means everyone runs around like nuts and attempts to deal with the fallout. But, alas, I have a job, and for that, I am grateful.

The weight is the same. I'm back to taking my diabetes meds and trying not to pig out quite so much. I still haven't managed to step one foot on the treadmill. I blame pogo.com's Yahtzee. I have not gained, and for that, I am grateful.

Fall is here, and brings with it changing leaves, sweatshirt weather, and the ability to take comfort in warm drinks, and for that, I am grateful.

The Biggest Loser is back, and for that, I am grateful.

The Hubs is fine. Busy, overworked, and frazzled, but fine. In 10 days, we'll celebrate a milestone, and for that (and him), I am grateful.

Everyone in our families is healthy and as happy as their circumstances will allow. And for that, I am grateful.

I am alive, free, and happy, and for that, I am grateful.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Reflection

I weighed in at 246.6 this morning, which means that I have lost 14.0 pounds since this journey began in January. 14 pounds in 8 months.

Even though it coulda, woulda, shoulda been more, I'm very content with it. Do you know why? Because those 14 pounds, however slow they may have come off, however many times I gained and lost, those 14 pounds mean that at some point in my life, I changed what I was doing. I may have fallen back into old habits, gained some, and lost some again, but I changed.

I am capable of change.

I am capable.

Right now, I have several things working to my advantage in that department. One, I'm taking my Metformin as I should, which, aside from keeping my blood sugars in check, also has the pleasant side effect of curbing appetite. As long as I keep taking it, I notice that I am full faster and get that uncomfortable feeling where you just. can't. shove. any. more. food. in. a lot sooner. The medicine has also helped me notice and acknowledge that feeling of being full.

I have also had a stomach virus-y thing for about a week, so without sharing the gory details, lets just suffice it to say that food isn't hanging around for very long in my system. I'm sure this has helped my weight loss along just a little bit this past week.

I am in one of those 'take it as it comes' moods with life currently. I'm trying not to let my OCD tendencies take over. I'm trying not to obsess about dieting, my weight, what should have been and the monumental task of what needs to be. I'm pretty sure my crazy anniversary challenge was doomed to failure before it even began. It's not where I am or want to be with my weight-loss journey right now. Right now, I want to take it slow.

I felt/feel overwhelmed with big challenges. It's too much pressure. It's too much stress. Pressure and stress lead to "fuck it". At least with me. You may be one of those people who thrive under unattainable deadlines and lofty goals. More power to you, my friend. More power to you.

Right now, I'm throwing myself into the "Any Progress is Good Progress" category. I'm making an effort to watch my portions, with the help of Mr. Metformin. I'm going to start making an effort to hop on the treadmill for half an hour at least 4x a week. Just 1/2 an hour, at at least 3.1 mph. Any progress is good progress, and any movement is good movement. I don't have to kill myself. I don't have to wish I could die just so it would mean I could get off the treadmill.

The math works. Eat less calories, burn more calories, weight comes off. It's magic! (Okay, well it's not magic, and it's a really, really sloooooooooooooooow process, but I have faith in the result).

I may not have reached "gung-ho", but as long as I'm putting forth some effort, I'll get there eventually.

Oh, and 5k number 4 was this past Sunday. There aren't enough colorful phrases in the English language for me to express to you the suckiness that was the Cheetah Run. Hills. Steep hills. Repeatedly. And a stomach virus to boot.

I went. I did. That's good enough for me.

Friday, September 4, 2009

Frenemies...

Remember my old pal, Sigg?
Turns out, she might not be much of a pal at all...
According to this article, Sigg bottles made before August of 2008 (which my lovely "Earth" Sigg bottle was) have trace amounts of BPA in the lining. BPA is the toxic chemical found in plastic water bottles which has been found to effect levels of estrogen in females.
While Sigg tests show that there is 0% leakage of BPA from their old liners, they also changed the liners of their bottles to new, BPA-free liners after August of 2008. To me, this says they were concerned enough about it to change what they were doing, so I should be concerned about it as well.
Sigg is doing a voluntary exchange of all Sigg bottles with the old lining. Unfortunately, because it is a volunteer effort, you have to pay to send your Sigg bottle back, but they in turn will give you a gift certificate code to purchase a new Sigg bottle from their website. I'm not sure whether the code will include the cost of shipping your replacement Sigg to you, but I'm guessing it won't.
Probably 75% of my co-workers own Sigg bottles because of a company-wide initiative to quit using disposable cups and plastic bottles. Now, I'm in charge of collecting all our old Sigg bottles and sending a mass return back to Sigg for new ones.
By the way, if you own an old Sigg, and you wish to exchange it, all the information you need is in the article above, and you have to return it by October 31st of this year.
Something to think about...

Monday, August 31, 2009

"Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you..."

a.k.a. "The World's Longest Post". If you manage to make it all the way to the end of this crazy train I call a blog post, more power, kudos, my sincerest thanks and deepest appologies to you.

("Ironic" by Alanis Morissette).

So I started this blog all gung-ho, lost 12 pounds, and fizzled. I started again, and fizzled before even getting off the ground. Rinse and repeat. Rinse. and. repeat. And then I started my crazy 30 pounds in 11 weeks challenge, lasted not even two weeks, and what do you know? Fizzle fizzle bo bizzle. (I'm in a unique mood today, can you tell?)

Last week, I was just about to write a post about how I'm guessing I'm just not ready to really get into it. How I don't really have the motivation or drive. How I'm just not really caring right now, because, unfortunately, all of those things were (and pretty much are) 100% true.

Prep for whining here... I'm tired of it. I'm tired of attempting when I'm not really whole-heartedly in it, and then failing miserably. I'm annoyed and just generally over it. And with an attitude like that, I'm pretty sure failure is eminent. Resistance is futile. Danger, Will Robinson. Which ever entertainment quote you want to put there, it pretty much means I ain't losin' no weight. I ain't getting any healthier. I don't know nuthin' 'bout birthin' no babies.

Which is quite the delightful segue into why I'm writing this post now, instead of last week. Prep for what might possibly be TMI. I was due for my yearly with my ob/gyn, and since The Hubs and I are getting up there in age (ah, 27, I never would have guessed you'd make me feel elderly, but alas) and need to start looking into family planning, I made an appointment for us to meet. I found a new doc closer to my job, and we met her on Wednesday.

Prep for shock. I have diabetes. (Okay, maybe if you've paid attention to my rambling at all over the past 8 months, that's not a shock). Diabetes makes me a high-risk pregnant woman if I were to conceive. Like, seriously, high-risk. Not "oh, well, we'll just keep an eye on it,". More like guaranteed bed rest for months, tons of testing and monitoring, possible insulin shots, blood sugar checks at least five times a day, doctor's visits at least three times a week toward the end of the pregnancy. That kind of high-risk. Now, doesn't that sound fun? Yeah, we thought so too.

But, sensing the panic mode that The Hubs and I had painted all over our faces, she throws in this little piece of optimism: if I can maintain my A1c at 5.5 for at least two months before we conceive, I'm no longer considered a high-risk pregnancy, and my pregnancy will be just like any other pregnancy except for the fact that I'm pretty much guaranteed gestational diabetes, which she believes can easily be controlled with oral medications.

Btw, for you non-diabetics, an A1c is a blood test that basically tells you what your average blood glucose levels have been over the past 3 months. Magically. Don't ask me how it does it, because my knowledge ends there. Someone without diabetes usually has an A1c at around 5%, and someone with diabetes that is out of control might be between 10 and 25%. From what I understand, if you're at 25%, you're pretty much dead.

So basically, she's telling me what my regular doctor has been telling me for a year. I need to reverse my diabetes. How do you reverse diabetes and lower your A1c? Oh, it's simple really. Diet and exercise. Lose weight. Or, re-visit and attempt to break (again. again. again. AGAIN.) that crazy cycle of "Gung-Ho, Fizzle Fizzle Bo Bizzle". Great! Fabulous! I'll get right on that. Ugh.

So we came home from that appointment and I basically laid down in bed and cried for an hour and a half. Cried and cried and cried. She had pretty much told me that all of the hopes and dreams of not only myself, but my husband, all rested on my (completely incapable) shoulders. I have to lose weight. I have to control my blood sugar. I have to do it. And if I don't? WE can't have kids. WE can't have kids because I'm fat and lazy. No pressure or anything. I'm already feeling incapable, unmotivated, ready to retreat into fatness for a little while longer, and then this happens.

(And, yes, technically, we could get pregnant. We could have kids, but the chances of them having birth defects practically quadruples, not to mention the danger to myself and the drama of being a high-risk pregnancy. I just don't think I could live with myself knowing that it was all my fat and lazy fault if our kid was messed up and my husband had to go through all that. So, no. We can't have kids unless I get my A1c down).

Weight loss: FAIL. Kids: FAIL. Good wife: FAIL. Man, I'm really sucking these days!

So where's the light at the end of the tunnel? Where's the silver lining? Where's the Eternal Optimist that you all know and love? She's here, muffled and squirming under about 50 pounds of extra weight, excited about the prospect of being pregnant and having a baby, but just a little too jaded to go straight into "Gung-ho" again. The task before me is monumentally more real and challenging knowing what is relying upon my success. I'm sure most of you are just dying to send me that comment that says "You can do it! You have a reason now! You have motivation!" and you might be right. Hopefully this is the catalyst for me finally doing the thing that I've never been able to do.

But past failures have planted that seed of doubt, and current moods are watering it daily. I wish I were able to just forget about that little, nagging voice saying "You have failed. You always fail. You will fail. Every single time before, look what you did! This is no different". But I can't. It's there, and I'm unconvinced at the moment that I can beat it down into submission. Even for a baby.

This is not to say that I'm not going to try. Hell yes, I'm going to try. I basically have 9 months before we would like to be trying for a baby, which means about 6 months to get my A1c to an acceptable level and maintain it long enough to eliminate the extra worries of the diabetic, high-risk pregnancy. My A1c in December of 2008 was 6.7. My A1c on Friday was 6.4. It is moving in the right direction, but there is still a long way to go.

It's a long, hard road out of diabetic hell, and I just have to figure out how to get my wheels turning.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

"When you dream, what do you dream about?"

("When You Dream" by Barenaked Ladies).

So, this morning, right before I woke up, I dreamt that I was a “Real Housewife” from one of the shows on Bravo. Not a specific housewife from a specific city, but I was one of them. We were at a banquet type fund raiser thing, and I was sitting at a round table with all the other rich housewives, and they were all saying what charity they were supporting or whatever, and we were just sitting there drinking champagne.

Then, Ricky Martin comes out on stage and everyone goes wild and he starts singing to us. I guess he was part of the entertainment for the fund raising. So Ricky is singing and we’re all sitting there enjoying it, and he comes down and pulls me out of my chair and serenades me. (I'm not exactly a Ricky Martin fan in real life, but I was enjoying myself in my dream. Weird).

Then after he’s done, Michael Buble comes and sits at our table with us, and in the course of the conversation, I say a line from one of his songs, and he starts humming the tune. I ask him if he’s just going to sit there and hum the whole song, and he says no, and starts belting it out at the top of his lungs. So then everyone at the event is just basically screaming this song at the top of our lungs and having a grand old time.

Then Frank Sinatra and his wife come out and mingle with everyone, and we’re just all talking and socializing and having a good time, and Frank and his wife walk past me, so my back is to them. I turn around, and they’ve suddenly turned into Ronald and Nancy Reagan. Still just laughing it up and having a great time at the party. And I’m trying to take pictures of them with my camera, but they’re all turning out blurry for some reason, but I don’t care because I’m having such a good time with Ricky Martin, Michael Buble, and The Reagans.

And then I woke up.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

I am a People

Yesterday was my chance to volunteer with People Working Cooperatively, a non-profit organization that helps with home repairs and weatherization for low-income, elderly people in the tri-state area.

Our assignment was to help out this gentleman, Mr. Wiggins. He lives on his own, never married, and has no surviving family members. He's also had several strokes in the past couple of years.

We were charged with cleaning out his gutters, weeding, cutting down trees that were in danger of damaging his house, and getting trees and vines off of his house and fence line. We also cut his grass for him. There were 12 of us, thank goodness, because it was a TON of work on a very hot and humid Cincinnati day.

(Front gutters before).
(Front gutters during). Yeah, that's safe...

(Gutters after).

(Front bush before).

(Front bush after). That's MFN's and my handiwork. BTW, that's MFN in the red shirt.

(Driveway before).
(Driveway before, and MFN cheesin').

(Driveway after). MFN and I are very proud, as this was our main area of concentration.

(The Group).

All in all, I'm very glad that I participated, even though it was a TON of really hard work on a really hot and humid day. Mr. Wiggins is obviously not able to care for his house on his own, as most of that stuff probably had not been touched in at least 20 years. It was nice to help him out.
We arrived at the house at around 9:20 am after our orientation at the PWC headquarters, and left a little after 1 pm. The backyard was not within our level of expertise, so we did what we could, bundled what we did, and called it a day. The front looked like a completely different house by the time we were done, though.
I'm awfully proud to be a People.

Friday, August 14, 2009

Quirks

I definitely have my fair share (plus a couple other people's fair shares) of quirks. If you're a "real life" friend, I'm sure you've been exposed to these at one point or another. If you're The BFF, and you lived with me, you're in line for sainthood.

No, seriously, be expecting a call from the Pope soon. I already talked to him, and he said he was cool with the fact that you're not Catholic. He said they're trying to open things up to "the masses".

Anyhoo. I know that I've got some strong opinions on some strange stuff, and those that love me, know me, and deal with it. Bless their little pea-picking hearts.

Iyam what Iyam, as Popeye would say, so I thought I might share with you some of the things that make me what Iyam. Enjoy my neurotic-ness.

Oh, and don't judge. You're neurotic too, I promise.


~ I refuse to buy a car that has the gas tank on the passenger side, on sheer principle. It's inefficient engineering and it shows that the car maker does not take the convenience of its' consumers into consideration. Soapbox down.

~ I cannot stand the sight or touch of popcicle sticks or unfinished wood of any kind. It literally causes a physiological reaction where my lips get dry and I start to break down in chills. Just thinking about it while writing this has made my lips dry up and tingle. Seriously.

~ I hate the sound of fingers scratching the fabric on the roof of my car. I recently not-so-gently reminded The Hubs of this when he haphazardly grabbed the Oh Shit handle and it sent me into a tizzy.

~ I can't stand it when The Hubs takes my car somewhere without me. The next time I drive it, it's on a different city's radio stations, he leaves the odometer on one of the trip meters instead of the main number, and he knocks off my seat belt hook, which usually lands under the seat never to be seen again. Every. Single. Time.

~ Background: At work we have one communal women's restroom with stalls, and one separate single restroom with a locking door. When ever I use the single room, I check the lock at least twice before doing my business. I will literally walk away from it, and back to it to double- and triple-check that it's locked. It's the one place that I really see my OCD come into play. Oh, and emails and blog posts.

~ I re-read emails and blog posts multiple times before I send them, and then even more afterward. It's a VERY obsessive compulsive behavior, and I don't know why I do it.

~ I love the southern tradition of eating salted peanuts in Classic Coke. I grew up with it, but people 'round these parts seem to think it weird. Huh.

~ I only like Andes mints after Olive Garden, and York peppermint patties after Skyline. They will sit around my house for months afterward if I have extra.

~ Except on very, very rare occasions, I refuse to see a movie that has a reputation for making people cry. The Notebook? I've heard it's awesome, but I've also heard that people cry like a baby at the end. Sorry 'bout your luck, Nicholas Sparks. Million Dollar Baby? Wouldn't see it even though everyone else was. (However, I've seen movies that I didn't know would make me cry, and were totally worth it. i.e. Pay It Forward, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, etc.)

Okay, I think I've shared enough of my neuroses for now. Do you still love me?


Wednesday, August 12, 2009

My Top 5: #5 - Movies

1. My Big Fat Greek Wedding
2. Dirty Dancing.
3. Horton Hears a Who.
4. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.
5. Forrest Gump.

My Top 5: #4 - Historical Figures

1. Charles Darwin
2. Walt Disney.
3. Albert Einstein.
4. Mark Twain.
5. Leonardo da Vinci.