Christmas 2010

Well another Christmas day is over.  As the evening winds down, I sit on the love seat with a pug in my lap, another at my feet, and think about how very lucky I am.  My dad is on the big couch, flipping through the channels.  An advertisement for a show called "Gold Rush" flashes on the screen.

"That's the biggest bunch of idiots I ever saw doing that", says my dad.  I chuckle.  Not five minutes later the remote control in his hand drops to the floor and I hear a loud snore.  He's had a long day. 

As per tradition, my brother and family came over for Christmas Eve dinner last night.  After spending the evening with them, I always wish I saw them more throughout the year.  My brother is great company - like my dad but less grouchy.  I love how close my nieces are.  My brothers were so much older than me I practically grew up an only child.  My nieces are sweet and very close with one another.  And my sister is law is cool in a no-nonsense sort of way.  They are a great family.  They didn't leave last night until almost midnight.  My dad was tired but we had to sit on the couch and watch a few minutes of  "A Christmas Story."

My dad gets particularly tickled at this movie even thought he's seen it a million times.  When the dad in the movie says "He looks like a deranged Easter bunny.  He looks like a pink nightmare!", my dad gives a deep belly chuckle, his eyes crease and his cheeks pop with laughter.  I love to see my dad give a genuine laugh.  Its greatness.

Today we headed to my grandparents house to have Christmas.  I have spent every Christmas day of my life going to my grandparents house.  Now, more than ever, I love going out there to see them.  While I visit with my grandmother, my dad and paw paw start talking about everything that's wrong with the world.  I guess my dad woke up refreshed from his night's sleep because he was extra spicy today. 

The following phrases came out of my dad's mouth today (some more than once):

"And that was the worse thing I've ever seen in my LIFE!"
"I'll tell you another thing that's wrong with the damn toll roads..."
"It made her so mad, she couldn't hardly breath..."
"Texas used to have the best roads in the world until the federal government got involved..."
"If you want to see an example of Obama-care, then let me tell you where you need to go..."
"Then I said, look fella, I ain't belivin' that...."
"They're not helping the consumer so, I can't figure out what the Department of Insurance actually does..."

Needless to say, he was quite worked up.  My paw paw listened and had his own feedback.  At one point I turned to my grandmother and said "Curtis is awfully talkative today."  She nodded in agreement. 

It was good food and good times.  I found myself giggling more than once at my dad's rants.  My paw paw had some good stories as well.  I've heard some of them before but somehow I don't mind hearing them again. 

Now back at home, I am more thankful for my family than ever.  My grandparents are in relatively good health for being 80 years old.  My dad, after having some significant health problems, is doing better and is in good spirits.  Of course, there's always an empty spot during the holidays because my mom is not with us.  But how can I complain with so many other blessings in the form of family and friends?

So Christmas 2010 comes to a close.  The kitchen is clean, a small fire is dwindling in the fireplace and I sit here among a chorus of snoring from my dad and pugs.  The angel on the tree makes me think of my mother - somewhere far above she is looking down on all of us.  Hopefully she's giggling at my dad's stories.

Home is truly where the heart is...and there's no place I'd rather be.

Letterpress 101

Last week I took a letterpress class from Lauren of http://www.blueeyebrowneye.com/ and I LOVED IT!

Lauren teaches on a Kelsey 5x8 press.  Her studio is at her home and its one of those spaces I think of as a beautiful disaster.  Walking in, the first thing I notice is all the paper strewn about.  Various projects adorn the walls, desk and floor - letterpress, calligraphy, photographs.  There's a large table for a workspace; its topped with all sorts of items used for the letterpress process (i.e. furniture, ink, composing stick, type) and, of course, the press itself.   At one point she opens up a large drawer that is completely full of various envelopes.  I'm such a stationary geek that I'm in heaven and instantly wish that I had a drawer full of envelopes.

We talk about paper and decide on the type for my project (Crane Lettra).  Lauren makes me do everything except cut my own paper, which I loved because I really wanted to learn to do it myself.  I was pretty intimidated but it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be - of course its easy to say that because I had Lauren there to answer my questions and tell me what to do.  If I had attempted letterpress on my own, I'm sure I would have gotten completely frustrated and been yanking my hair out. 

I set my type, mixed my own ink, and got to work printing cards for my grandmother.  They are picutred below but my iphone doesn't do them justice.  They look lovely!

I have started looking for my own press now and can't wait to start printing my own stuff.  I hope to have everything up and running by January and I already have a very special first project in mind. 

You can check out Lauren's goods here on Etsy.

Post 30 day Tracy Anderson Method bootcamp

I've got news.  It works.  No, really - it does.  But here's the real kicker, it only works if YOU work at it.  And believe me it is very hard work. 

Here's the deal afterward....if you are going to do the 30 day boot camp you will end up with these amazing results.  But of course you cannot go back to old eating habits and no exercise and expect to look great.  So far I have continued the workouts although not as intense.  And I would say my eating habits are about 80% good, 20% bad. 

For me, I feel like I have about 10 lbs to go before I will be at my very best.  So this week I started again with no alcohol, only water.  After giving up caffeine, I decided not to start up again, although Tracy does have some teas that she recommends - http://www.dragonherbs.com/prodinfo.asp?number=601 - (I can't tell if this has caffeine or not to tell you the truth but either way it looks pretty good for you.) 

Overall I would say I like the method and will continue.  It is varied - which is what I need.  And its a lot more active than some other fitness options.  The trouble is, between work, buying a house and all the other demands from the day-to-day, it is hard to stay motivated.  I'm certain I will slip up one day an go pig out on some delicious Mexican food.   Before I get down on myself for all that I try to remember one of my favorite quotes from silent screen actress Mary Pickford, 

"If you have made mistakes, there is always another chance for you. You may have a fresh start any moment you choose, for this thing we call 'failure' is not the falling down, but the staying down."

Read more: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/m/mary_pickford.html#ixzz17clBwHMO

Tracy Anderson Method: Sequence 3

Soreness isn't really the proper word to describe the way my body is feeling.  I am sore but its so much more than that...  I guess when Tracy says you will have "flu-like" symptoms from her workout she is right.  At least this is how I feel after the first two days of Sequence 3.  The muscles that are normally hanging out, enjoying the ride have been woken up and told to get to work.  And they are protesting.  BIG TIME.

But I believe the results are good.  Here's where I messed up:  I didn't weigh myself before I started.  I don't even own a scale (a bad thing I think).  But I do know how my clothes fit before and I know how they fit now and let me say, things are looking up.  Plus, my body feels stronger. 

I did get a semi-compliment from a loved one on my complexion as well.  I was told that I looked sort of glowing - not my usual drunken red color.  (nice compliment, eh?) I don't know if that is from the work out or the fact that instead of rolling in after a night of drinking and passing out, I now actually have the time to wash my face and put on moisturizer before going to bed.  I'm thinking the latter. 

So I have 9 more days on the program.  4 more days of eating regular food.  Then I start the dreaded "cleanse" of pureed mess.  We'll see how that goes.  I have the feeling that the last five days I'm going to be more cranky than usual. 

I will be so glad to have a cup of coffee or some tea.  Or a glass of wine.  But for now, I'm off to have my breakfast of mango and ice water. 

2 Weeks to Go! - Tracy Anderson Method

So I have exactly two weeks to go on the Tracy Anderson Method.  I just finished my beets (blah, blah, blah) but overall, I'm feeling pretty good.  I think I can see some definition in my arms which is pretty cool.  Jacob keeps saying my butt is little.  He is boarderline obsessed with the fact that my butt is small.  The butt has never been my problem anyway.  I have always been a tummy girl.  I get it from my dad's side of the family.  Thank God I got my mother's long legs or I would have really been in trouble. 

But even the tummy is smaller.  Not perfect but its getting there.  I think I need to suck it up and do more cardio.  I average about 40 min a day but I think I need to increase to an hour for these last two weeks.  It is tough to devote the time to working out with my job being so demanding but I'm muddling through. 

Not drinking was the hardest part of this whole thing but even that has gotten better.  Lots of the other attorneys that I know drink.  Hell, I drink.  I enjoy going out with them to drink.   But now I've been MIA from the drinking/social scene.  One attorney told me a bartender at one of the places we visit regularly was asking what happened to me.  I just got a text from one of my friends that said "I'm drinking at TABC if you want to come.. Oh wait.."   I called her a bitch (I meant it in a friendly way).

But two weeks to go and I'll be done!  I'm trying to decide if I even want to go back to drinking alcohol - It really hasn't been that hard to drink water only.  Maybe I'll stick with water and then have a drink occasionally.  That would probably be best. 

So Its Friday, 5:00 and I am looking forward to going home and working out for 2 1/2 hours.  Yea. 
After that I am going to sleep.  I should change my bio from semi-reformed party girl to reformed party girl.  Or maybe I should just say I'm a total bore. 
((sigh))

BEETS! blah.

Beets taste like dirt. 

This is the second time I've had to eat them as part of the Tracy Anderson 30 Day Program.  The first time I did it by the book, steaming the beets with some orange juice as she instructed.  I could barely get one down.  It was pretty sick.  These aren't like pickled beets (which I happen to think are pretty good).  No no...the beets I cooked retained their flavor of the earth in a strong way.  And by earth I mean dirt. 

So imagine my horror when yesterday, as I was planning my trip to the store, I saw that, once again, beets were on the menu.  Ayy dios mio!  No no no no no, I said out loud, emphatically shaking my head.  I told myself I would skip the beets this go around.  Tracy Anderson and her diet be damned!

But then as I'm walking into Whole Foods, (stopping on the way to say hi to the cart guy who is, by now, recognizing me and bringing me the little cart which is the one I prefer) I start to feel guilty about not eating the beets.  I start to beat myself up over not following the program, and how far I've come to bail on it all now.  I pass by the raw beets and shudder, telling myself I will pick them up on the way out.

But then, in the prepared food aisle, there they are!  Steamed beets!  Surely these would be better than mine!  Surely Whole Foods knows the magic secret to make beets taste good! I didn't have to skip out on my program! I could have it all! This was a win-win! 

I asked the girl dressed as a teenage mutant ninja turtle behind the counter for some help.  She had on crazy green sunglasses so I couldn't see her expression when I asked for a small container of the beets. 
It looked like I was the only person to ask for beets all day as they were still piled high.  She was probably thinking just before I got there that she was going to have to dump out the beets again today and what a waste it is to prepare them since nobody, I mean nobody, orders them.  But, alas!  There I am with my cart full of salmon, endive, and tofu asking for beets. 

I wasn't even worried as I brought my beets to work today.  I just knew that these were going to be much better than mine.  So at 3 o'clock, I go get them out of the refridgerator and sit down at my desk to partake in my afternoon snack.

My fork goes into the beet easily.  I take this as a good sign that they are soft.  I take a sniff of the beet.  Smells alright.  So far so good.  I bite bravely.

Beets taste like dirt.  :(



** to be fair, apparently beets have lots of health benefits.  see: http://hubpages.com/hub/Health_Benefits_of_Red_Beets

Self Torture

Why did I decide to quit drinking at one of the most stressful times in my life?  This is the question I keep asking myself.  You could say I like a good challenge.  Or you could say I'm a glutton for punishment.  Either works. 

I started the Tracy Anderson 30 day method 10 days ago.  I stopped drinking to do the method.  In fact, all I'm drinking is water.  No caffeine, no alcohol...just plain ol' h20.  The first two days I thought my head was going to explode from the massive headache I had.  But it went away.  Last Saturday I wanted to drink in a bad way but talked myself out of it.  The Conversation in my head went something like this:

Devil:  Just one glass of wine won't hurt.  You've been so good all week.
Angel: No.  You made a commitment to 30 days - no alcohol.
Devil:  Meh...its been, like, 8 days already.  One drink won't hurt. 
Angel: There are a lot of other things to do besides drink.
Devil: Anything you want to do would be so much better with a glass of wine.
Angel: Wine is just extra calories. You don't want extra calories do you?
Devil: Ok, scrap the wine and have some vodka. 
Angel: Vodka is just as bad. 
Devil: Vodka is practically like drinking water.  Its clear.
Angel: Vodka is NOT like water and you know it!

Long story short, the Angel on my shoulder won.  Mainly because I couldn't fathom doing my 2 hour workout hungover.

The Tracy Anderson Method is good.  I like the work outs.  The most challenging thing is the food.  You have to prepare EVERYTHING from scratch.  I have probably eaten more fresh fruit and fish in the last 10 days than I did all last year.  This diet is not for the poor either.  I think they know me by first name at whole foods. My former drinking money is now going to purchase things like leeks, beets, shallots, cod, salmon, etc...

My friend had a birthday Tuesday so I stopped off to get her some Sprinkles cupcakes. (further evidence that I am into self torture)  It crossed my mind to eat the whole box as I drove to work but I restrained myself.  To make it worse I didn't go out to celebrate with her because I'm not drinking.  I thought to myself, this is the worst, most terrible idea I have ever come up with.  On Tuesday, I dreamt about cupcakes and vodka (in no particular order).

On top of all of this, I'm trying to buy a house before the end of the year and keep my job from spinning out of control.  Just pile it on...

But now its Thursday...and the two week mark is in sight.  I have a feeling if I can make it to Sunday I will have won the battle for the most part.  I'm tired but I feel like my body is getting a much needed break from my bad habits.  I woke up yesterday morning and my liver had written me a thank you note.  Ok not really but I feel like it would if it could.

Housewarming party

I decided to help my friend throw her housewarming party and I may have gotten in over my head.  (just a little)  For some reason I tend to think of myself as a full-on caterer/florist/event planner.  In less than 12 hours I will hopefully have prepared the following menu:

Caprease Skewers
Hummus & Crudites
BLT Bleu Cheese Lettuce Cups
Mustard and Ginger cocktail sausages
Shrimp with Ginger sauce
Chedder and cranberry Cheese Ball
Garlicky Beef Crostini with Horseradish Dill Sauce
Chicken Chutney Salad on Lettuce Leaves
Pancetta Crisps with Goat Cheese and Pear

So I guess we'll see how this goes.   I need to get my ass to the farmers market.  Like now.

Why I love GOOP

After watching her on TV one night, I subscribed to Gwyneth Paltrow's newsletter from http://www.goop.com/.  At first I was a bit wary. What would a mega star have to say that would be of any importance to the average person?  But its actually quite good.

What I find refreshing is that all of her information is just that - information.  She discusses the things she likes - favorite food blogs is the latest topic, but there is everything from fitness to travel and fashion.  When I went to Barcelona, I checked out some of her suggestions on where to eat the best tapas.  Thanks to her posts on fashion I am now a fan of Topshop.  And because she sent a free video, I am starting Tracy Anderson's 30 Day Method a week from today. 

She shares her experiences and her thoughts without delving too deeply or trying too hard (and really, why would she have to?)  

In short, check it out.  Regardless of whether you become a loyal follower (such as myself) or an occasional reader, GOOP won't steer you wrong. 

Today Sucks

There is really no other way to put it. It's so much more than "just one of those days." Everyone has bad days. I do and normally I try to shrug them off. But I don't like being bitched at when I work hard. Today I realized that I would really, really like to do something I love instead of just a job. I get really focused on paying for/buying this or that, when, in the long run, stuff is not what matters. I used to say the last thing I wanted was to be stuck behind a desk for 10 hours a day. Yet here I am. Stuck.

I know these are hard times. I know I'm very lucky to be among the employed. I am thankful that I am not struggling. But I'm frustrated. And there doesn't seem to be a clear answer in sight.

Pet Peeves

The ladies at our office decided to have a weight loss contest.  A mass message was sent out to the 50 something people I work with that said,

"BIGGEST LOOSER CONTEST:  Sign up for the Biggest Looser Contest to see who can loose the most weight!"

I don't know why things like this make me crazy but they do.  I didn't say anything when the inital message was sent, but after two reminders about the "Biggest Looser" Contest, I lost it and sent the following message to the sender:

"FYI - screws are loose. you LOSE weight"

She called me, laughing, to say that she didn't realize the mistake and she would be sure to correct it in the next email.  Later that week, we got another reminder about the contest:

"BIGGEST LOSER CONTEST:  Starts Monday.  Please advice me if you will be participating."

Sigh. 

Round Brush Trauma

I'm having a hard time concentrating at work today.  I'm thinking about the new round brush I bought.  I have tentatively starting using the round brush again after 25 year break.

When I was six the round brush beckoned to my long golden hair, just begging me to use it.  I obliged and began happily brushing, curling and twisting my hair around the round brush until it was hopelessly tangled.  I tugged and tugged but couldn't get it loose.  With frustrated tears I started yelling for my mother.  She didn't respond immediately and being the impatient type, I reached for the scissors and began cutting.  My poor mom walked in when I was about halfway through my impromptu haircut.  The look on her face was sheer horror.  "What have you done?!?", she cried.  There I stood, beet red, scissors in my wanting desperately to have the round brush out, OUT of my hair.  I was marched to the beauty salon where i got a very cute boy cut.  My mother cried.

As you can imagine, I was traumatized by this experience and steered clear of the round brush. 

Occasionally, I would see my friends with lovely, volumized, hair and ask, "How do you DO that?"  Of course the answer would be, "Oh, you know, with a round brush."  I felt defeated by their answer.  I could never use a round brush.  Just the thought of it scared the heck outta me.  I would imagine something like this:

But now that I am 31 I figured it was time to grow up and give it another shot.  I realized I never properly learned how to use a round brush.  Thanks to YouTube, one can learn pretty much anything these days.

Some of my new favorite hairstyles are coming from www.twitter.com/LolaMarie8 - I suggest you check her out if you're looking to update your 'do.  Thanks to her I am also re-visiting the world of Velcro rollers and I am traumatized no more!

Lessons Learned at 31

My 31st birthday was yesterday.  Here is what I've learned to date:

1)  At this point getting older is not so bad.  I realize I'm not a 21 year old hottie anymore (not that i ever was really) but there are advantages to age.  I am learning to accept who I am and try to make that person better each day.

2)  You should never underestimate the love you get from an animal.  Sure we are probably selfish to some extent for domesticating creatures, but when I walk in the door and see two wagging tails my mood is instantly transformed.  Nothing can actually be that bad.

3) Friends come and go.  Some you have for a lifetime and some are fair weather.  Often those people you think are good friends are not and you have to learn that lesson the hard way. Friendship is not a one way street.  Put forth the effort and be thankful for the beautiful people who return it.

4) Family is precious.  My dad makes me crazy.  He can't hear, he doesn't take care of himself and he is super critical, yet he is one of the best men I know and did the best job possible raising a daughter on his own.  Same goes for my grandparents; they are good people who have spent their lives trying to be good citizens of the world and good grandparents to my brother and I.  My grandmother is one of the strongest people I know and I hope to have that kind of influence on my family one day. 

5)  Laugh as much as you can.  It feels good.

6) You can't help who you love. I have tried before to love someone who was not for me and it didn't work.  People love who they love - regardless of who their friends or family like or prefer.  People should be with the person who makes them smile every day.  I'm with someone who makes me laugh even when I'm furious.  I try to be mad at him but he makes me laugh so hard I have to walk away to maintain my anger.  In the end he wins because smiling, laughing at him or at myself, is what keeps me sane in this crazy world.

7) No matter how old I get, I will continue to miss my mom.  Its been 21 years, yet everyday, I wish she were here.

8) You are never too old to learn something new.  This year, I have learned (almost accidentally) to grow herbs and peppers.  I also learned how to pickle.  I've traveled around the world but it doesn't take world travel to learn new things.  You can learn valuable lessons from the best place - your own back yard.  Just like Dorothy. 

9)  Just because things didn't work out like you planned doesn't mean they haven't worked out. 

10) What we do here on earth matters. 

11) You can't have negative people in your life if you want to be happy.  Some people serve no other purpose except to transfer negative energy onto other people.  I have learned not to question why but instead to just accept and keep my distance from these types. 

12) Part of me still subscribes to the theory "I can sleep when I die" - the other part of me wants more rest. I'm working on a happy medium.

13) I have not found my lifelong career.  I like my job OK but there are a lot of other things I want to do.

14) I need to get more exercise and drink less.  These are just facts if I want to live a healthy life.

15) Be thankful everyday. I have been very fortunate to have a lot of good things happen to me and I feel that the best is yet to come. 

I realize that someday (which will feel not so much like someday but more like it just happened) I will wake up and be much older than I am now.  I will wonder where the time has gone.  I will have lost and gained friends.  I will have (hopefully) had a family of my own.  I will marvel at new found technology.  I will be nostalgic for things like stamps and thank you cards.  I will still miss my mother.  I will have new pets that are not quite as good as the ones I have now.  I will wish for the youth of 31.  But my hope is that, at whatever age I find myself, I will always be able to find enough joy to laugh, to forgive and to love and appreciate those around me. 

Gardening and Pickling

I recently started a foray into pickling.  This comes after my limited success with gardening of sorts.  I thought for a long time I couldn't grow anything.  I killed aloe vera, which I've been told is one of the easiest plants to grow.  I convinced myself I didn't have a green thumb. 

I don't know why I wanted to try again, but I have always wanted a pepper plant, so I gave it a shot.  I bought the little guy at Lowe's and put him on my patio.  Immediately he produced two peppers, but then did little else.  I'm pretty sure I did everything one could do wrong to my pepper plant, including leaving the poor thing out during the most significant snow Texas has see in several years.  I apologized to him profusely, begging it not to die.  To my excitement/astonishment, he lived.  This spring he produced about 5 peppers, all of them MUCH hotter than the two initial peppers.  I'm convinced he was mad at me for the snowstorm incident.

After the success of my pepper plant, I started some herbs, including basil which I grew from the seed.  I now have chive, mint, my basil and yes, even an aloe vera plant (which I'm happy to say is doing very well). 

So now I am on to pickling.  I ran across some fresh okra at central market one day and thought "I want to pickle that."  who knows why?  It seemed like a good idea.  I bought the okra and some pickling spice and went home very cheery.  Too bad I forgot I didn't have any mason jars.  Bummer. 

I located some jars, lids and rings the next day.  I got a recipe off the Internet and set to work.  For a novice, pickling is a lot of work.  You have to sterilize everything and since I was paranoid, I think I sterilized everything twice.  I did a lot of things wrong.  I ran out of vinegar half-way through, as well as salt (not to mention my salt was the wrong kind).  I didn't pack the jars full enough.  I forgot to get garlic.  My jars were too big.  Not to mention the fact that it took me several hours to finish the whole ordeal.  I got through around 1 am.  But in the end I had 4 large jars of pickled okra. 

Recently I went to my grandmothers house and talked to her about my pickling adventures.  I should have talked to her before I started.  She gave me an old pickling/canning cookbook that had tons of recipes, including some of her own handwritten ones.  She gave me a ton of jars and rings.  We spent quite a bit of time bonding over what you should/can/don't have to do when pickling.  I got a ton of info from her.  My grandmother and I didn't always get along but we have become much closer in recent years.  She is kind of a distant woman, but she lights up when we have a common interest.  My mother canned and pickled also.  In a weird way, I feel closer to both of them for taking up this little hobby. 

So tonight, I am on to pickling, well, pickles actually.  I guess technically cucumbers.  I will do some more okra also.  I went a little crazy at the farmer's market on Sunday.  At some point tomorrow, I will probably call my grandmother to talk about it and ask some question about what I think I did wrong.  She will be reassuring but I won't be convinced until I taste the results for myself....a month or so from now.

Sally the Sonic Carhop

Sally the Sonic Rollerskating Carhop didn't realize that one of her job duties was to, in fact, be able to skate. After hurtling herself out the door she "skated" in our direction. Using the giant menu by the car to stop herself, she handed us our half-spilled drinks, picked our straws up OFF THE GROUND and handed them to us asking if we needed anything else.
Napkins, Sally, napkins. My tea is everywhere.

Goosebumps

The other day I started thinking about my best friend growing up.  She and I have known each other since we were about 3 years old.  As little girls, I was the loud one, always wanting attention.  She was quite and shy.  Afraid to speak up, she would whisper something to me and I would ask my parents for whatever it was she wanted.  The only caveat was that her "whisper" was like one of those stage whispers where everyone could hear what she was saying.  My dad still chuckles about it.

She and I dealt with a lot of stuff together over the years, so needless to say we were very close. But once in college we, like a lot of friends, talked less and less.  Of course we kept up with each other through letters, email, birthday cards, etc...but we didn't talk every day like we once did.  Still, she is the closest thing to a sister I've ever had and I think she would say the same.


So anyway, I was thinking about her and how we hadn't talked in a while. I realized it had actually been a long while; 4 months or so. I thought I should call or email her but I kind-of pushed the thought aside during the day because I had a lot of work to do.  

Again, the following day she popped into my head and the thought crossed my mind that I should give her a call.  But yet again, I had a lot of work to get done so I ignored the thought.  

Finally, on Friday as I was driving to court she crossed my mind again so I gave her a call.  She didn't answer so I had to leave a message:

"Hey, Its Lesley.  I was thinking about you today; actually I've been thinking about you over the last couple of days, and just wanted to give you a call to say Hi.   Hope everything is going well.  Give me a call when you get a chance.  Talk to you later."


She called me back about 5 minutes later.  


"Hey!", I answered.

"Hey.", she said.  She sounded a little pensive. Then she dived in:


"Its so weird that your message said you have been thinking about me over the last couple of days.  I was so happy to hear your voice when you called.  My grandmother died two days ago and this has been a rough couple of days."

I immediately got goosebumps. We both sensed the weirdness of the situation, and I got a little choked up at the relief in her voice.  After I expressed my condolences, we continued to talk because she wanted "to hear about, something, anything" besides what had been going on with her the past couple of days.
I told her about my trip to Spain and she laughed at my crazy life.  "You just told me you went to Spain in the same tone as if you were saying you had just gone down to the 7-11.", she said, laughing.  It was good to hear her voice too and I was happy to provide her with some sort of distraction.


After we got off the phone, I was still reeling from the timing of everything.  I called my dad to tell him about it.  He didn't seem all that shocked.  "I put a lot of stock in stuff like that", he said.  "Sometimes you just have to listen to your instincts. When you're friends with someone for that long, there is a connection." 

I got to thinking about all the time my instincts had tried to tell me something, and how I tend to ignore that side of my brain.  I could have avoided a lot of heartache if I had just listened to myself from the beginning of most situations.  Regardless, I was glad that, this time, I had listened and reconnected my friend in her time of need. 

Back from Spain to the world of high heels and dresses.

So I'm back from Spain and back to work; Although I do not find myself in "work mode" quite yet. I guess I'm still recovering.

I was in Pamplona for San Fermin to watch some friends run with the bulls. This was, by far, the most fun I had on my trip. I watched the Spain/Germany game with one pal the night before the run. The crowd went crazy when Spain won that game. (They chant over and over "Soy de Espana, Espana, Espana). Very cool to see and hear, even if I would have preferred the USA to win.

After sleeping in a less than 5-star cabin, we woke up and 4:30 am to catch the 5 am bus into Pamplona. We got there and people were still partying from the night before. Clubs were packed and techno music could be heard as we wandered the streets. I followed the four guys to their starting point, stopping along the way to buy a jug of Sangria. (Yes I was drinking at 6 am, but - in my defense - so was everyone else.) I took more pics than the guys probably wanted me to as we walked along but, hey - how many times do you run with bulls? They will thank me later.

Pamplona was dirty and nasty from the festivities. There were people everywhere. I hung out with the guys for a bit and then went towards the arena to get a spot where I could (hopefully) see them run. The running started at 8 and the crowd was wild. I didn't get to see any of the guys run inside but saw a couple of them messing with the smaller bulls in the arena. Let me say this: do not participate in picture taking of this event if you have any sort of claustrophobia. There are people everywhere cramming, shoving and pushing their way to see the action. I managed to get a few good shots of the guys and then it was over. We grabbed a bite afterward and I listened to them gab about the run. They were all hopped up from a combo of adrenaline and tiredness. It was funny to listen to them. I was glad to be a part of it.

We bought tickets to the bullfight later that night. I didn't realize it at the time but the bulls from the run in the morning are the same bulls in the bullfight at night. I lasted for one fight. It was cool to see from a cultural standpoint but I, personally, cannot watch animals die. Look don't get me wrong, I eat beef and chicken - I know where it comes from but I try to make a point of eating only meat that has been humanely raised and slaughtered. Bullfighting is very primitive. I found myself hoping they would let the bull go. The matadors teased the poor thing, cutting it so it would bleed, before finally stabbing it with a sword. Towards the end when the bull stood up, fell, tried to stand up again and then finally died to the cheering of the crowd, I turned to my friend Chris and said "I'm out."

I wandered the streets, buying gifts and traditional red and white garb until the guys came out. We spent some more time drinking. One of the guys, an architect*, told me to get this energy drink called "Burn". It tasted similiar to Red Bull.  Only after I was halfway through did he tell me that it is illegal here in the US - so I pretty much drank something like liquid crack.**

We went back to the campsite where I stayed up with Erik and the architect to drink some more. At this point I actually found out the architect was an architect and a semi-heated discussion ensued about architect vs. builder. I was pretty drunk at this point so I’m sure I said more than one thing to piss him off.  I always think I'm right, and Its pretty hard for me to hide it.

A Mariachi band came out to play which was kind of a weird experience. They would play something very traditional and then break into a chorus of “Twist and Shout.” If there was one thing the architect and I agreed on, it was the oddity of the Mariachi group. At some point, (I’m not sure when exactly), the evening ended and everyone went to sleep. I woke up to a massive hangover the next day, not realizing that I had inadvertently consumed close to an entire bottle of vodka. It’s a wonder that the architect didn’t kill me the night before - I get overly chatty/bitchy on vodka.***

So besides the God-awful hangover, It was actually a blast. Its nice being back in my air-conditioned office, wearing my make-up, heels and pretty dress. But there is something to be said for the times when you wear a t-shirt, cut-offs and reefs and no one cares what you look like because everyone is hot and covered with dirt and sangria. Those times are memorable. Its a time I won't soon forget.

I just hope now I can get some work done.

*I have a general dislike for Architects, being a builder's daughter. I regard them mostly as snobby perfections. This guy may be the exception because he was actually nice and not a complete A-hole. Although at one point I believe he threw me into the class of non-decent girls at the campsite.

**Upon further reflection, maybe the Architect is an A-hole for giving me liquid crack and not telling me about it until afterward...

***Now, once again, I have to give the architect a break for putting up with my drunk ass. Dammit.

Far from home

Here I am...in a very interesting city, halfway across the globe and all I can think of is home.  I realized today that I am a homebody.  I really want my couch, my bed, my apartment.  I am perfectly happy in Dallas Texas going about my day to day life. 

From today - July 7th, 2010 to last year July 7th 2009 my life has changed dramatically.  This time last year I was set to marry someone in October.  That didn't happen. He is now married to someone else and I hope (sincerely) that he is very happy with her.  I, myself, was with someone different not long after the engagement broke off.  It was a brief but meaningful spark wherein I learned a lot about myself.  I was hoping for a great romance.  It wasn't there.

What I have realized is that here are some people for which you should risk everything.  It took me a long, long time to realize this fact.  After losing my mother I never wanted to let anyone have my heart or feelings in a way that could every hurt me so badly.  But living that way is no way to live. 

There are some people that won't give up on you.  No matter how much you push them away, no matter how much you hurt them or they hurt you...there is that person out there who doesn't give up because their love for you is so great.  And because that love is so great you can find your way through all the bad times to a much better place...to a place where there is only love. 

What I always wanted was to be with the person who couldn't stand to be without me.  Because it would mean that it was ME he wanted to be with, not just some girl who fit the bill.  And finally, finally, finally, he's there - after 10 years of trial and tribulation - we have made it through all the BS...and I'm glad we both realized it before it was too late.

To the one who never gave up on me - and who felt as lonely without me as I did without him:  I love you.  And thanks for making our moments together funny and special.  You make me laugh and that's my favorite thing to do...

Performing again for the first time, in a long time...

I performed in this year's Bar None Production, "Alice in BarNoneLand:  25 years through the looking glass".  Its a show put on by Attorneys, Judges and other folks in the legal community.  The purpose is to raise money for the Sarah T. Hughes Scholarship at SMU's Dedman School of Law.  

 More about the show and scholarship can be found here: http://www.barnoneshow.com/hughes_scholarship.htm 

Two of the women involved, the show's director and choreographer, have been working on this show for 25 years.  Its a testament to their commitment to the scholarship and their patience in dealing with some of the egos involved.  (Hey, we're lawyers - we have to be a little egotistical to do what we do!)

For me, however, my ego in the performing arts had waned.  No longer confident in my skills as a singer, I stopped performing completely unless I had liquid courage and was in the mood to rap some Vanilla Ice, "Ice Ice Baby", at Karaoke.  Its always easier to be the goofball than to put any genuine effort or skill behind something.  

So that is what my years of training had been reduced to - rapping in some smoky bar at Karaoke.  I can imagine the look of disgust on my voice teacher's face if he knew that's where our work had gone.  Week after week, I went to The Voice Studio in New York City, spending every cent of my savings, and had THE BEST training by a voice coach I've ever received.  I worked harder than I had ever worked before and was better than I had ever been. Unlike female coaches, he didn't want to be my friend.  He wanted me to work, to sing, to expand my range, and to become better than whatever natural talent I brought to the table.  And it worked.  

But once the money ran out, and family obligations loomed, I returned to Texas and singing went to the back burner.  I don't know why exactly.  I'm sure it was a number of reasons.  I always told myself I would go audition for some local show - but then I never did.  As the time between performances increased, my confidence decreased.  So much to the point that when I went to the Bar None audition, my voice was shaking.  It reminded me of the first time I had ever sung in public.  I was terrified about what other people thought of me and my voice and all my training went out the window.

But slowly, by rehearsing week after week, I felt my voice come back and my fear melt away.  I got to know members of the cast and began to feel more comfortable around them.  One day it all clicked and my voice was back, clear and strong, with no fear or worries about judgment from others.  As people in the cast voiced positive feedback, part of my confidence returned.  

I told myself "Yes, I can do this".  I started to believe again.  

When my dad came to the show he told me afterward, "I wish you would do more performing, you seem to enjoy it so much."

Its because I do.  And for the first time, in a long time, I  felt like myself again.  Thank you Bar None.

Why I care about American Diabetes Association Alert Day

Tomorrow, Tuesday, March 23rd, is American Diabetes Association Alert Day. If you go to the Stop Diabetes site you will learn all kinds of interesting things like the fact that 1 in 5 Americans is at risk for type 2 diabetes and that nearly 6 Million people have Diabetes and don't even know it.  So most likely you or someone you know has diabetes as this disease becomes more and more common.

For me it hit close to home.  My mother was diagnosed with diabetes not long after I was born and it claimed her life when I was 10 years old.  She was 39 - only nine years older than I am now.  Although I was very young at the time I remember the difficulty my mother had coping with the lifestyle changes that come with being a diabetic.  She was always a naturally thin person, so diet restrictions were not a previous concern.  I now know that she went through depression as a result of being diagnosed.  From my research, this is a common occurrence.  Her defiance towards diabetes, combined with failure to properly regulate her diet and insulin intake is what caused the diabetic coma and ultimately her death.

I tell this story because I want people that have, or know someone that has diabetes, to take it seriously.  Losing someone to this disease is life-changing.  I still miss my mom every day.

It is my hope that we can stop diabetes so that no child has to lose a parent to diabetes ever again.  You can visit http://www.diabetes.org/ for education on Type 1, Type 2 and Gestational Diabetes.  The site includes prevention information, a way to donate  and recipes.  You can also take a Risk Test to determine if you are pre-diabetes or type 2. Of course you should  also visit your doctor for regular check ups and he/she will be able to test your blood glucose.  

I hope that everyone will take a minute to read the information provided by the American Diabetes Association and think about making positive changes in your lifestyle to help lower your risk of being diagnosed with diabetes.  Do it for yourself and your loved ones.

• Pictured above is my Grandmother, on the left and my mom, Nina, on the right.  And yes, that blond, chubby baby is me.  Go ahead and have yourself a good laugh.  :)

Cowtown 10K Completed! Now the "Run to Joes..."

So last Saturday was the Cowtown 10K.  You would not believe the way my body protested at 5:00 am when I got up to get ready and head to Funky Town.  I made it there early enough to pick up a friend's downtown parking pass - most definitely the bright spot of the day was being able to park very close to all the activities.   It was freezing and I tried to warm up a bit but I really just wanted to get the damn thing over with as soon as possible. 

As we lined up at the starting line, I saw a mix of people.  Serious runners lined up at the front.  You know..the ones who are actually trying to win the race.  I headed towards the middle/rear since I knew I couldn't keep up with the people keeping pace at a 5 minute mile.  The gun went off, I started my ipod and away we went...

For the most part it was a nice jog.  The sun came out and warmed everything up to a nice temp.  It turned out to be a beautiful day.  I ran for the most part, only allowing myself to slow to a walk at the water stations.  I was hurting towards the end but I didn't want to stop because, again, I just wanted it to be over.  Finishing was not exhilirating but I was happy and felt accomplished.  I did realize a few things from this run:

1.  There is no way I will ever "win" a 10K, ever.  I am not built for fast pace running.  I can go the distance but not with speed.

2.  I do not want to run more than a 10K, ever.  I know people dig the half and full marathons but the 6.213 miles is enough for me thankyouverymuch.

3.  My running playlist is not just for fun, it is a necessity.  Here's what I run to:

• Ain't no rest for the Wicked - Cage the Elephant
• Mama Do - Pixie Lott
• Replay - lyaz
• Rehab - Amy Winehouse
• Just Dance - Lady Gaga
• In Love With A Girl - Gavin DeGraw
• How Far We've Come - Matchbox Twenty
• Girlfriend - Avril Lavigne
• Suddenly I See - KT Tunstall
• Battlefield - Jordin Sparks
• Driving Me Mad - Neil Finn
• Buster Voodoo - Rodrigo y Gabriela
• Kerosene - Miranda Lambert

4.  I want to do better in the next 10K.  I ran this one in aprox 1 hour, 10 min.  I finished with about 800 people behind me and 2000 ahead of me.  I know I can do better than that.  I'm glad I wasn't last though.  Not that there is anything wrong with being last because, hey, at least you finished.

So...next up:  10K "Run to Joe's" - http://www.samaritanhouse.org/runtojoes/index.asp

Saying Goodbye to Korey...

" He is your friend, your partner, your defender, your dog.
You are his life, his love, his leader. He will be yours, faithful and true, to the last beat of his heart.
You owe it to him to be worthy of such devotion."
--Unknown

As a pet owner, I know that the heartbreak of pet ownership is that, you end up saying goodbye to them before they say goobye to you. To be clear, Korey was not my dog. I started dating her owner, Jacob, when she was about a year old. And through our tumultuous relationship the dark grey Weimaraner grew up to into her 10th year of life before moving on...

Korey loved the water. She would chase a bumper as long as there was someone to throw it for her. With her natural instinct to retrieve, Jacob trained her to duck hunt. She loved hunting season and loved going with him. Many mornings I was woken up at 4 am from her whining because she couldn't contain her excitement as he loaded up the truck.  On the few occasions I went with them to the lake, I would watch her...decked out in her camo vest, intent on her task.  She prefered to ride towards the front of the boat, ears flapping in the wind.  Her yellow eyes would scan the water, ready to jump in. Occasionally her impatience for Jacob prevailed and she would jump in when she felt like it, not waiting for his command. 

At home she never understood why she wasn’t like the little dogs. She truly believed she could fit her full 70 lbs in your lap. If you laid next to her she wanted to be as close as possible to you. Many times while on the computer she would come up underneath my arm and knock it away from the mouse with her head as if to say “Its time to pet me - I need some attention.” Korey was always happy to see you and made her affection known by wiggling her nub of a tail and giving a well placed lick to the face...or hand...or leg (whatever was available). She was not allowed on the bed but it was undoubtedly her favorite spot to sleep besides the couch - another place she was not allowed. If her “baby” (a plastic crab and the only toy she wouldn’t chew to pieces) was on your pillow, it was a sure sign she was napping in a forbidden spot.

Korey also loved to eat. She couldn’t be trusted alone with any food. Once after a successful hunt, Jacob was making stuffed dove breast for dinner. I sat in the living room while he was in the kitchen soaking the dove in Dr. Pepper, stuffing it with cream cheese, and wrapping it in bacon. I remember how excited he was about that meal. She was at his feet the whole time because she knew something exciting was happening also. He made the mistake of going to light the grill while Korey stayed behind in the kitchen. Although he was only gone for a couple of minutes, it was all the time she needed to devour the dove - skewers and all. It was hard to be angry with her when she’s giving you a look that says “I know I was bad, but you should have known better...”

On her final day, despite whatever she was feeling, her little nub of a tail wiggled at me when I walked through the door. On the way to the vet, I sat with her in the back of the truck, stroking her head and ears; softly telling her "good girl".

She and I waited while Jacob went inside to get the vet. I don’t know if the sound of my voice brought her any comfort. I guess I would like to believe that it did. While we sat, I told her about how she would see her old friend, “fat dog”, soon. I told her that where she was going she could swim whenever she wanted and there was always someone who wanted to play fetch. I told her that the hunters are all excellent shots and there are always birds to retrieve.  I apologized that Jacob and I couldn’t come with her but that we would see her soon and that we expected lots of licks from her when we got there.  Her eyes looked tired but not painful. This year’s hunting season was over. She was ready to go.

The end was very quick. They took her to the back and within minutes she was gone. We sat in the exam room, with tears in our eyes, listening to the vet tell us that she didn’t suffer - that between her heart condition and the tumor in her lungs, Jacob had done all he could do. 

Now she will be laid to rest.  Her ashes will be spread at two of her favorite spots...one last ride out to the lake and one final trip to Jacob's father's house.  So goodbye sweet girl.  Although you weren't mine, I loved you just the same and will miss you always until I see you again.     

"If there are no dogs in Heaven,
then when I die I want to go
where they went."

Will Rogers, 1897-1935

Still Running but what am i doing wrong?

So I have stuck with my running program pretty well.  Yesterday the schedule said I had to do 5 miles - 5!  OK I know for some people this is probably a breeze but for me this was tough.  I was already tired from a long days work.  I was dreading the treadmill and I refuse to run outside in 15 degree weather.  I finally sucked it up and went to the gym.  I wasn't going to allow myself to skip out. 

What I want to know is why is there a 5 mile run on the first week?  It seems like a lot, especially since I'm just training for a 10K.  I couldn't run the whole thing and I didn't want to push myself since I have 7 weeks of training left.  I walked the first mile to warm up.  Then I started running.  The first mile is always the toughest for me.  If I can make it past the first mile I'm usually OK for the rest of it.  While running, I can feel a blister developing on the inside of my foot near the arch (what little arch I have - my feet are pretty flat).  It hurts pretty bad but I push through.  I walk the last mile to cool down.  Finally I'm done.  But I'm not feeling great.  I'm tired and my body hurts.  My ankles are sore and my knees feel funky.  I am doubtful that I can make it back to my apartment and into the shower.  Somehow I manage.  After the shower, I fall into bed exhausted. 

One thing I can say for all this running:  I am not drinking alcohol as much.  1) I feel like its such a waste to go run only to add the calories back on with liquid 2) I just don't want alcohol in my body - I am actually craving more water. 

Here is my problem:  Running does not seem to be getting easier...and I have never had a runners high.  I trudge through it, finish, and limp back my resting spot.  Is there something I'm doing wrong?  Is there something I should be doing that I'm not?  Could it be I'm just not a runner? (this is highly likely)  5 years ago I could get up off my couch and run a 5K realitively easy.  Is it just that I turned 30 and my body is giving up?

Today the schedule says 4 miles.  My body says no but the schedule says yes.  Off to the gym I go...

Texas vs. Alabama...the bet is on!

Its not often that I bet someone on a football game.  I don't bet on my college team because, while I was in school, they (well frankly) sucked.  So by default I became a fan of the next closest school, UT.  I have friends that are Aggies and I'm sure they would be happy to wager on that yearly game but they are so invested (brainwashed?) that I hate to get an Aggie all worked up.  To borrow a phrase from my dad, arguing with an Aggie about their school is like wrestling with a pig...you both get dirty but the pig likes it.

Enter my new acquaintance, who, although he didn't go to Alabama, will be rooting for them during Thursdays game. He is obviously not a Texan.  We'll call my acquaintance 13 to protect his privacy - its fitting since Bama has won 13 championships, (which he so nicely reminded me of yesterday).  This is actually a perfect situation in which to bet.  Neither one of us is really attached to either school; therefore neither one of us stands to get really angry at a loss. 

13 has decided we should bet a bottle of Firefly Sweet Tea Vodka. http://www.fireflyvodka.com/  He says it tastes just like sweet tea which makes it dangerously delicious.  I am actually kind of surprised at this because I think 13 is kind-of a snob.  I just don't picture him drinking a $20 bottle of vodka that tastes like sweet tea, but whatever. It sounds yummy to me so the bet is on. 

Yesterday, I started the smack talk by sending 13 an email that said "Thought you might want to set this as your background to get ready for Thursday..."

13 responded "And one for you..."

To which I responded:  "I fixed your pic for you for after the game..."

13 had no response to this as he was left utterly speechless from my mastery of MS Paint.  I thought the sad face was a particularly nice touch.

Today 13 sends me some sort of lame-o article written by an supposed UT fan that says that UT's offense is going to get destroyed by the far superior Bama team.  I send him an article back (from the same website, shockingly enough) that gives all the reasons why UT is going to win.  13 doesn't respond. 

The smack talk on the phone is starting to get ugly as well.  13 and I almost got in a fight today.  I told him if Bama wins I'm not talking to him for a week.  He says that I am too easy to get riled up.

Its all in good fun, I think.  I guess we'll see after Thursday if 13 and I are still friends. 

Cowtown 10K

I started my training program for the Fort Worth Cowtown 10K two days ago. The run is on February 27, 2010 at 7:30 am. I am not a morning person, or a runner for that matter, yet somehow I have talked myself into doing this because it will be "good for me."


My first 3 run mile was tough and very slow. I think there are people twice my age that could run faster than I did that day. On top of my slowness, I am recovering from a cold which decided to manifest itself in the form of a hacking cough. So there I am, trying to make the full 3 miles at my glacial pace while hacking up a lung. Somehow I made it. Where was my runner's high? Maybe next time...?

My next 3 mile run was even tougher. I decided to opt for the treadmill this time, since it is bitterly cold this week. Of course my gym is full of would-be athletes working on their resolutions to be healthier, lose weight, blah blah blah (of course I am one of them). I manage to snag a treadmill by the mirror so, lucky for me, I can watch myself struggle to make the run. Its not that bad at first. I have Avril Lavine's "Girlfriend" playing on my ipod/phone which has a nice running pace to it. I visualize how much stronger and leaner I am going to be after this run (being careful to avoid the mirror lest it ruin my fantasy).  Then mile two hits and it is time to slow down a bit.  My face is really red.  Not attractive.  There is some girl running next taking long strides like its nothing.  Meanwhile I have to tell myself NOT to panic; Yes you can breath; just a little bit longer...
 
Still no runner's high.  Today my ankles hurt and my body feels like someone beat me up.  The really great thing is that today I have to step it up and run 3.5 miles.  Did I say great?  I meant something else...
 
Cowtown 10K here I come...
 
http://www.cowtownmarathon.org/default.aspx