Geez, I haven't posted in so long I almost forgot my password! February 18th was the last time! I wonder if Valeri has given up on me? (Forgive me, Val, I'll do it today...)

I'm still working over an hour away from home, and I refuse to discuss what that does to my gasoline consumption. If I stop to think about it for even an instant, a panicky feeling starts creeping up over me, starting in my stomach. So I don't think about it. I just keep going.

Still have my Valentine.

Oh. I'm at 40 pounds down, but I think I've stopped. I'll keep trying.

Been working out almost 3 months. I'm going to be brave (hopefully no one will flag this post as inappropriate!)and show before and after pics of my back. (It's just my back, folks! Nothing more!)

Before, at the end of March, after a couple of weeks of working out, so nothing really had changed yet:



Middle of May, about 6-7 weeks along:



More definition in my back and arms. Waist is smaller, too. And my hips aren't square anymore! I'm not quitting until I look STRONG. And get rid of all the jiggle in my arms and thighs. No, I am not showing you my thighs... Oh, and ignore my hair--I'd just washed it, so it was just laying there.

Actually, I'll probably never quit. I like working out, even if I am my own personal trainer, and a bitch one, too. I hate myself when I'm working out. I resent myself, and wish I would just disappear and leave myself alone. You should hear me yelling at myself and saying, "Yes, you can, don't be such a wussy!" And other, stronger pejoratives which I won't print here. And you should hear me whimper and cry and say, "No, I can't, I can't do 2 more reps, go away, leave me alone!"

Then, when I'm done and am all wobbly and can barely move my arms and legs, I feel so virtuous! And so glad it's over!

Now for keeping the blogchain going. Val nominated me for this a while ago, and it's taken me this long to do my part!

Let me explain the rules for the next nominated blogs:
"Choose up to 10 of your favorite blogs which bring you inspiration and make you appreciate the blogosphere.
Next you must inform the bloggers of their nomination by a post on their blog so as to keep the chain going!"
These are the blogs I've chosen to nominate:

Valeri, of course, at Dyeing 2 Sew
Keith, at Odysseus' Shipwreck
Deb, at Another Bandwagon
Pedalpower, at Draw Daily
Sonji, at Sonji Says
Suziblu, at Suziblu
Violette, at Violette's Folk Art

I didn't nominate 10 because I don't have time to READ that many! And the ones I chose I can't even read as often as I would like.

Oh. One more thing. When Canada approved gay marriage, I said, "Go, Canada!" Now I can say, "Go, California!" Except I wonder how long it'll last? And what will happen if it gets voted away? That's a conundrum.

Okay. Post is finished. See ya in another 3 months?

31 Down, No More Carnitas

Pounds, that is. I just checked, which I don't do very often, so it was a real nice surprise.

And I'm eating! I don't worry about carbs so much, except for later in the day, because with the work I do all the carbs I eat at breakfast are used up and gone in a couple of hours, and then my stomach starts growling.

I make sure to get enough protein, because I'm interested in re-building the muscle I lost from sitting on my butt for 6 years, and physical work can wear the muscle down pretty quickly.

I met up with someone on V-day that I haven't seen in about 3 years. He used to squeeze my upper arm and say, "Carnitas!" The first time he did it, I was insulted. He said, "My dad used to do that to my mom," and I told him, "Well, I'm not your mom and you're not your dad." He still did it, anyway, once in a while, but on V-day he tried it, and said, "Carrrrr-- Hey! Your carnitas are gone!" I just smiled.

That was a really nice V-day present, and it was completely unintentional. The very best kind.

Today is "Boycott V- Day! Day"

Like I do every year, I'm doing my personal boycott of Valentine's Day. I took the day off work so I don't have to be an unwilling participant in the mandatory candy- and card-giving bulloney.

I'm not against being in love or all the emotional stuff, I'm just against unrealistic expectations, which become more unrealistic every year.

People at work didn't understand when I explained why I was staying home for V-Day. They can't believe someone would boycott such a wonderful day. Then they shared their angst with me over the gifts they bought/might get.

Hello?!? They still couldn't see my point when I told them they were doing exactly what I was trying to explain. Thanks to all the commercials and ads telling men and women what their women and men REALLY want, so that's what they REALLY should get, and spend all that REALLY big money on, no one REALLY ever seems to be happy.

And after the day's over, or even before it's over, too many people just seem to be angry. So-and-so didn't get them the right gift. Or so-and-so didn't spend enough money on the gift. Or so-and-so didn't get them a gift at all. (Sounds just like Christmas, doesn't it?)

The Daughters and I went to the drugstore last night to buy a few things, and the parking lot was packed. We had to drive around and around until there was a spot, and inside the store it was bedlam, especially in the card aisle. People were agonizing over the right card and the paltry selection (because not one ready-made card said exactly the right thing, damn it!), worrying over being able to find an appropriate gift (at a drugstore? Come on!), and hoping what they bought would be enough and their Valentine-person wouldn't end up hating them.

See?

I have to admit to some smug superiority because I had removed myself from all that. I didn't even have to stand in line because no one was at the perfume counter, so we paid there. Couldn't believe no one was at the perfume counter. Valentine's Day? Perfume?

Last month when I requested February 14th off, I had no idea I might have a Valentine-person. Well, um, things have sort of changed, but it hasn't changed my boycott. He doesn't agree with me on it, but I don't care. And he doesn't care that I don't care. It's not a big enough issue. Maybe he's even secretly relieved. (Probably not, though. Like I said, it's not an issue.)

This morning I text-messaged my Valentine-person. Yes, I TM'd him-- it was 6 am and he was asleep. Besides, I figured he'd get a little kick out of turning on his phone and getting a Valentine's Day TM. Me bending my boycott and all.

He TM'd me back: Happy Valentine's Day :-x

Good feelings, acknowlegement for being special, and it didn't cost a thing. Perfect.

Subconjunctival Hemorrhage

That's what I have.

Today is Wednesday. Last Thursday, at work, I got popped in the eye by a plastic strap that sprung apart from around a bundle of magazines. I didn't think anything of it except, "Ow." It felt like it hit my eyelid, not my eyeBALL.

Wrong! The outer half of my eyeball turned pink. Friday, it was still pink. (I did tell my supervisor what happened, on Thursday, after he asked me why I was wearing a ScoobyDoo bandaid on my arm. I told him I'd cut my arm on the corner of a hamper and it wouldn't stop bleeding, which is why he'd seen me heading for the bathroom with my bloody arm clutched in my other hand. He mentioned, "Your eye's all pink, too." So I told him about the plastic strap, and he said, "Not having a good day, are you?")

Saturday, it was redredred. Sunday, it was only pink, so I stopped worrying.

Monday, it was red again. It didn't hurt, only felt sort of dry, like wind was blowing on it. Supervisor told me that had happened to him once, half his eye had been red like mine, and he'd been given eye drops for it. I told him that Wednesday was a non-scheduled day, and I'd go to the doctor.

Tuesday (yesterday) it was red, still, and I had to assure people I didn't have pinkeye (conjunctivitis). I told them it was a hemorrhage from an eye injury, so they'd stop backing away from me like I had the plague. Little did I know!

So, today I spent a couple of hours trying to find the right place to go for Urgent Care (5 places!), and an hour-and-a-half actually being seen to. Not bad, huh? Only an hour-and-a-half! And everyone was terrific.

Turns out I was right.It WAS a hemorrhage. I didn't hurt the cornea, only bruised it, but I got some eye drops, anyway. I also got a tetanus shot. Not because I needed one, but because I couldn't remember the last time I got one. So now I have a big, honking bandaid on my arm, and it'll hurt like hell peeling it off. The shot didn't hurt a bit, but the bandaid removal sure will!

So that was my day off-- running around not having a much of a day off.

But I'm glad my eye's on the mend (it's only a dark pink today) and now I can step on a rusty nail somewhere and not have to worry about lockjaw. Pretty good, huh?

Oh, yeah. I had to have my blood pressure taken, and it's wayway down from what it was last spring when none of us where I used to work knew what was going to happen to us, and my BP was in the "stroke at any moment" range. Now it's back to "only nervous about having my BP taken" range, and I can give blood again. AND, when I'm driving to work in thick, thick fog (like I did the day before yesterday at 4am) or blinding rain (like a couple of weeks ago), I don't have to wonder if my stress level is about to kill me. I like that. I can just worry about normal rain- and fog-related things, like not being able to see anything, crazy drivers, and stray cows on the freeway. (Yes! It happened last week!) Life is good.

It's All In A Name

Mine, specifically.

I'm off work today-- triple YAY! I was supposed to be off on Wednesday, too, which would have been the first one off since New Year's Day, but it got cancelled. (I had 4 days off from Thanksgiving to New Year's-- Thanksgiving, Dec. 11, Christmas, and New Year's Day. All 10- and 12-hour days. Yes, I work Sundays.) When Mr. Supervisor came to tell me the day before, after I'd been there 9 hours already, he said, "Okay, before I say what I have to say, let me tell you this first: I love you." Pause. "So can I see your bright and smiling face at 5:30 tomorrow morning?" And he RAN. My big, black, bodybuilder supervisor ran away from me like a scared little rabbit. When I confronted him about it the next day, he said, "Of course I ran. I know you."

Which brings me to this little quiz I came across while being glued to the computer since 8 this morning.

The first paragraph is complete bullsht, but the rest is uncannily accurate. And I DO get in trouble a lot. I don't know why, it must be a gift.

What Lori Means

You are relaxed, chill, and very likely to go with the flow. You are light hearted and accepting. You don't get worked up easily. Well adjusted and incredibly happy, many people wonder what your secret to life is. You are well rounded, with a complete perspective on life. You are solid and dependable. You are loyal, and people can count on you. At times, you can be a bit too serious. You tend to put too much pressure on yourself. You are wild, crazy, and a huge rebel. You're always up to something. You have a ton of energy, and most people can't handle you. You're very intense. You definitely are a handful, and you're likely to get in trouble. But your kind of trouble is a lot of fun. You tend to be pretty tightly wound. It's easy to get you excited... which can be a good or bad thing. You have a lot of enthusiasm, but it fades rather quickly. You don't stick with any one thing for very long. You have the drive to accomplish a lot in a short amount of time. Your biggest problem is making sure you finish the projects you start.

What's Your Name's Hidden Meaning?

I've been described with lots of those words-- "rebel" "wild" "handful" "intense"(that one gets used a lot). And I've been told numerous times "they couldn't handle you." I always thought it meant it was because I can be such a btch.

The fourth paragraph is the truth-- absolutely. If anyone tries this quiz, let me know, either by comment or email. I'm pretty skeptical, and was ready for something stupid, but I'm sort of impressed with this one.

By the way, thanks Val for pointing me to the quiz.

I'm home early today

because the power went out at work, and the emergency lights are only good for emergencies. So, most of us went home.

We're having a whoopee of a storm. I had to drive 65 miles INTO 40-50mph winds, with the rain coming AT me. Fun. Fortunately, the other people on the freeway were going just as slowly as I was.

The worst part were the big rigs. My little Toyota was going only a couple mph faster than they were, so I had to keep the windshield wipers going at their fastest because of the horrendous spray the rigs' tires were sending up and over. All I could do was hang onto the steering wheel, pray a lot, and hope the buffeting from the wind and the trucks wouldn't send me (or the trucks!) into the wrong lane.

The good thing about it was it was in the DAYTIME. What a luxury! This morning I drove in the dark, with the wind going like crazy (no rain, though), and my headlights picking out all the debris flying across the freeway. A couple of the tumbleweeds seemed almost as big as my car. It was surreal.

While I was in my car, having lunch and feeling the wind shake and bounce my little economy model while it was just sitting still, looking at and hearing the rain pound from all directions, a huge, pink balloon went bouncing up and down, up and down, between the front of my car and the parking lot fence, then bounced up and over the fence, and into the field on the other side, and bounce up and down, up and down, and away. I had to laugh. It looked like someone lost their bubble gum right in the middle of a good blow. I wondered where in the world such a huge balloon would come from, and then I remembered the car dealerships nearby, with their long, long ropes full of balloons. Guess someone's rope broke. Oops.

On my way out of my work-town, the traffic lights were all dark and blank-- power outage. But the other people driving all seemed to be feeling helpful and generous, and we treated the intersections like 4-way stops, and no one honked once. Nice.

It's supposed to keep raining for the next 2 days, and I have to go to work on both of them. But the wind's supposed to be a lot less, so that's something. Evidently, there are 3 storms, and this is the second one. The third one's supposed to kick in tonight or tomorrow morning sometime, but the rain is supposed to keep coming. I bet the people a couple of blocks away, next to the river, are sandbagging right now. They have to do it just about every year. The street in front of our house is flooded, but that's par for the course where we live. Oh, well.

Oh, yeah.

Happy New Year, by the way.

Obligatory Christmas Post

Merry Solstice! (I never posted on Solstice-- I had that virus-thingy that keeps you either sleeping and shivering or running to the bathroom.)

Merry Christmas. And all that.

We're all fine, blah, blah. I'm just glad I'm home and not at work. But, back to the grind tomorrow. I'll have to appease LaWonda, though, because I was sick again, so went home early yesterday (I probably should have stayed home two days when I got sick, instead of only one day) and she had to go to Menopause Central because I couldn't, and she was NOT happy. I'll make her something to eat. That'll buy me some forgiveness. Having LaWonda displeased with you can make life pretty rough. She talks loud, too, so everyone in the building knows what she thinks. And it's a big building.

Ho. Ho. Ho.