January is Over?

I find it hard to believe that January is over! Ummm, what happened to the month? Didn't I just get home from New Orleans yesterday?

I have things to look forward to in the upcoming months. I'm going to see Wicked in San Francisco with a bunch of my friends in March I'm going to see Mickey Mouse with my Aunt Loretta in April. So, having January zip by is kinda okay in my book.

As I looked back over January, something caught me off guard and shocked my socks off. You see, I keep an exercise journal, noting each workout and the time I spent working out. It's how I keep myself accountable. I counted up the days I had entries: 24! 24! 24? Wow - that means I only took off 7 days this month from working out. Not too shabby for someone who hates to exercise and who, only a year ago, was happy to work out 7 days in month. What a change.

And, because I respond well to numbers, I added up all the minutes I spent sweating, grunting and groaning: (drumroll, please!) a whopping 1270 minutes this month! If I wasn't so tired from all that exercise, I'd be doing the happy dance right about now.

So, as February starts tomorrow, so starts a new chapter in my life as the crazy exerciser. Thank goodness there's only 28 days in February.

I think I need a pizza.

Until Next Time,

Kel

Today, I've Found My Confidence

Normally, I'm not a person who lacks in self-confidence. I have no problem taking exercise classes even when I'm the biggest girl in the room; I'll strike up a conversation with perfect strangers; I've even been known to stand up for myself (or someone else) in public when someone is being insensitive.

But, for the last week, I've been a more of a self-doubt mode. Big time self-doubt mode.

It started last Thursday night, when I was at my favorite frozen yogurt place getting my fix of their sugar-free fro yo. A thin, young blonde woman in front of me in line very loudly made a comment about fat people eating frozen yogurt. It was hurtful, to say the least. But, being who I am, I responded so that the other customers in the shop could hear: "Gee, I'd rather be fat than ignorant, prejudicial and blonde."

Normally, I can just bounce back from an encounter like that and chalk it up to the other person just being stupid. But, this time, it wasn't as easy to let go of. I took it more personally than I should have. My poor friend Linda was the first to have to listen (or read since we visit every day via e-mail!) to my tirade about it; after working out with Denise Friday night, I dumped the story onto her ears. On Saturday, I was still feeling the sting of it all, and Denise immediately picked up on my mood during cardio-kick boxing.

All week long, I've been in the 'I look like crap' state of mind, feeling like my workouts and better eating habits are all for naught. I know that my body is different these days because of the hard work I've been doing, but people who don't know me just see me as someone who's big and fat and all the adjectives that go along with those two words. And it bugged me.

But, down deep inside, I didn't want that little twit's words to discourage me, so I did manage to work out Saturday, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday of this week, even though on the top, I was feeling ugly and too fat for words.

Then, this morning as I was rushing around to get ready to come to work, I bumped into the tv card and knocked some dvd's off the shelf. The movie on the top of the pile: The Sound of Music. It's one of my favorite movies and I immediately thought of the song "I Have Confidence" - the one Maria sings on her way from the Abbey to the Von Trapp home on her first day. I can sing the song in my head and as I was easily bending over to pick up my mess, did just that - starting humming and singing "I have confidence in me!"

I finished getting dressed and looking at myself in the mirror, discovered that I'm having a good hair day and that I don't look fat and frumpy today and yeah, for a big girl, I'm looking really good these days.

I've found my confidence again!

Now if I could only find my courage....

Until next time,

Kel

I Suck at Housework...

I am so not a good housekeeper. There. I said it. My house is always a mess.

And it's not like I've got a bunch of kids and a husband around making it messy. It's just me and Aero. And I know that he doesn't make a mess when he's here alone.

My mother is probably the world's best housekeeper. OMG. You can eat off the floors, toilet seats, window sills. I don't think there's a hospital on Earth that's as clean and neat as my mother's house.

And maybe that's my problem: I can't live up to the standard I lived with for the first 22 years of my life. And I don't care. Dust doesn't bother me - I can ignore it for weeks. As long as the dust bunnies don't get bigger than Aero, I'm ok with it. And the piles o' crap everywhere. Not crap, as in poop, but crap - you know, junk mail, bags from Target that I haven't emptied, paperwork, crafting supplies. I can walk right by it and pretend it's not there.

Yeah, I'm a lousy housekeeper. Maybe when I grow up I'll be better at it.

Until next time,

Kel

They Finally Moved In!!!!

It's official: my Mom and Dad are moved in to their new house! YIPPEE!!!!!!!

In case you don't remember the back story, you can find it here.

When I talked to my Dad tonight, he said that everything that's moving into the new house is unpacked and put away; there's some big items and odds and ends left in the rental house (old furniture, a tv, old beds, boxes of Mardi Gras beads) that are waiting to be donated or sold at a garage sale, but they'll be gone soon.

There are a few things that need to be remedied by the contractor, but, they're in. I'm so relieved. It's been just about six months since they started the whole building process and the end result is a home that will withstand hurricane-strength winds, stand above rising flood waters (it actualy sits 39 inches above the highest point in the street!) and provide comfort to my parents as they celebrate their twilight years together.

I can't wait to go back and actually get to stay in the house! I got to see it when I visited at Christmas, but it was still under construction. I missed the move by about a month. What I did see was impressive and beautiful and the talk of the neighborhood.

Welcome Home, Mom and Dad.

Until Next Time,

Kel

Proud to be an American

Wow. Since November, we knew today was going to be special. But I don't think I was prepared for how special, how moving this day would be.

There was an excitement in the air all day. In the office, we connected a computer to CNN's website in the morning and projected the inauguration for everyone to see. We're a very diverse crowd here in our small office, but we were all united by the excitement of seeing our 44th President take his oath of office.

Yes, it was historic, inspiring, uplifting - all those things that the media kept telling us we should be feeling throughout the coverage.

For me, the image that will remain with me forever was the view shown from the top of the Capitol, looking down on the hundreds of thousands of people there, waving their American flags. People of every race, creed, religion, sexual orientation - all different as night and day - standing united, showing their patriotism and support for what will be a new era in our great country's history. I get teary just thinking about it.

And, what's even more amazing - I've heard reports that there were no incidents of trouble in D.C. on this wonderful day. People are really exceptional when they want to be.

Yeah, I'm proud to be an American.

Good luck to you and your administration, President Obama. I'm looking forward to a new America.

Until Next Time,

Kel

I Have a Great Relationship...

...with my couch!

It's one of those Sundays. I'm still tired from yesterday's shopping adventure with Joyce and it's chilly in here. I could get dressed and go to the gym. I could get dressed and take Aero for a long walk. I could get dressed and walk over to the neighborhood convenience store and get a newspaper.

I could. But that would mean I'd have to leave my comfy couch and get dressed. I'd rather stay in my pajamas, under the blanket, with Aero curled up in my lap or in my arms, watching reruns of "I Love Lucy" or the playoff games.

Yeah, I have a great relationship with my couch. I think I'll stay here.

Until next time,

Kel

Friends, Pals, Partners in Crime...

I guess it was about 19 years ago when I first met Joyce. I was new in town and would take the local express bus up to San Francisco to work every day. I noticed that she was always on the bus in the morning before me (I was the third stop on the route), and she always got off one stop before mine in the City. In the evenings, I'd see her get on a few stops after mine, and she got off one stop before me.

One evening, I was out walking my little Yorkie, Spike, and I saw Joyce walking toward me with a pizza in her hands. As I got closer, I smiled and said "What time do we eat?!" Joyce looked at me like I was nuts and just continued walking. I just stood there fore a minute, looking down at Spikey and saying to him, geez, she didn't even stop and give you a second look and you're way cuter than me... My new mission from that point on: make friends with this pizza carrying, bus riding woman.

The next week, I made it a point to sit next to her on the bus and chat with her. I did it in the mornings and, I even went to a different stop in the evenings so I could get on the bus after her and sit next to her. Yep. I was quite the little pest. But at least by the end of the week I had learned her name.

One Friday evening, I asked Joyce if she had plans for the weekend (just trying to make polite conversation). She said that she was probably going to go shopping on Saturday. "Great!" I responded, "how about some company?" I saw that same shocked look that I saw the night she was carrying her pizza home. But, she agreed to have me join her and that Saturday, a true and lasting friendship was born.

We've done all sorts of things together over the years, including traveling, craft fairs, scrapbooking excursions, breakfasts - you name it, we've probably done it. We're not just friends - we call ourselves 'partners in crime.'

Last night, I gave Joyce a call. The conversation was really short:

K: "Hey"

J: "Hey"

K: "You wanna go on a field trip tomorrow?"
J: "Yeah. What did you have in mind?"

K: "How about a 2-hour ride up to Rockin to go to Green Tangerines?"

J: "What time are you picking me up?"

And today, we drove 2 hours to visit the coolest scrapbooking store I've ever seen - Green Tangerines. We made it worth our while - we actually spent just over 2 hours in the store browsing, matching papers and pictures, picking out embellishments, ooohing and aaaahing... Of course, we were exhausted and starving by the time we got our bags filled with terrific goodies, so a stop at a local restaurant was in order. Food was just the remedy we needed to make the long drive home.

On the drive home, the fun continued with lots of laughing, giggling and chatting about our adventure. I dropped off Joyce and her goodies around 8:30 tonight; now, it's just before 10:30 and I'm pooped! Aero, on the other hand, is quite wound up because he's been sleeping all day and now he wants to play. One more quick run in the yard and it's lights out, buddy - mom's tired!

I think every body needs a good partner in crime....

Until next time,

Kel

Dance Shoes - Who Knew?

When I was about 2 years old, my parents enrolled me in the Gail Gauthreaux School of Dance. At the time, it was the premiere dance school in the area, and nearly every little girl (and a few little boys) in our town and the surrounding areas went there at some point in their lives.

It was my most favorite thing to do: every Wednesday, I'd don my black leotard and for an hour would take lessons in tumbling, classical ballet, modern ballet/jazz and tap. Yes, we fit all of that in in an hour!

I danced there for 17 years; I graduated with a teaching certificate just a week after my high school graduation.

Fast forward to 2009. Last Wednesday, to be exact.

That danged Zumba class. I haven't been in a "dance" class in nearly 30 years. The closest thing to a dance class I've taken lately would be some of the aerobic classes I've attended; oh, wait, there was that foray into belly dancing about 2 years ago... But Zumba. It's basically a Latin dance aerobics class. More emphasis on dance than 'exercise' - hard as it was, I fell in love with the class.

Nora, the perky, cute instructor, recommended we switch from typical athletic shoes to some sort of dance shoes. She showed us her 'dance sneakers' as an example of what we should look for when we buy them. One thing I did learn in all those years in dancing school is that you've got to have the right kind of shoes or you'll fall on your face or injure yourself. So, I was not opposed to going out and buying these new-fangled dance sneakers.

On Tuesday, I headed over to a cute little dance shop nearby the office and nearly fainted when I saw shoes: there was a wall full of so many kinds of specialty shoes for different kinds of dances my head started spinning! OMG!!!!! There were ballet slippers, pointe shoes, flat-soled jazz shoes, jazz shoes with heels, flat tap shoes, tap shoes with heels, clogging shoes, Irish dancing shoes, ballroom dancing shoes, hip-hop shoes, something called 'dance sport' shoes, and of course, the dance sneakers. I was speechless for a few minutes, which, as my dear friends will tell you, doesn't happen often.

I had a flashback to my time in dancing school and buying dancing shoes; your choices were ballet slippers, pointe shoes and tap shoes. Oh, and as I got older, jazz shoes were just starting to hit the market. You were limited to either pink or black ballet slippers, pink or white pointe shoes, usually black or white tap shoes - and you had a choice of flat, low-heel or high-heel taps, which you could only get when you were 14 (a school rule). That was it.

Now do you see why it took me a minute to come to my senses?

Luckily, the gentleman in the store was quite knowledgeable about all things dance, and was quite amused when I told my story of the limited choices in shoes when I danced. I think he was more amused by the fact that someone in my shape and size used to dance... but I digress.

Fifteen minutes later, I became the proud owner of a pair of Bloch dance sneakers.

And the second session of Zumba on Wednesday got just a little easier.

Until next time,

Kel

I'm "Connie Complainer" Today

A couple of years ago when my friend Angela and I worked at the same law firm, we had a day where we exchanged several e-mails and in each one, I found something to complain to her about. After the first 5 or 6, my signature read "Just Call me Connie Complainer." Her response? "Well, if you're Connie Complainer then I must be Wendy Whiner."

To this day, we call each other Wendy and Connie.

So today, Connie is here in a major way. I haven't really complained out loud, but that little voice in my head has moaned and whined and complained and bitched about every single thing in my day.

Why do I have to get out of bed and go to work?
Why is the traffic so bad?!
The office is too quiet today.
Rats. Now I have work to do.
I can't decide what I want to eat for lunch today or any other day of the week.
I don't want to drink another glass of water.

You get the idea.

It's now just after 4:00, and the complaining has continued all day. Right now? I'm complaining and arguing with myself about going to the gym and getting on the treadmill. That's not surprising, right? That's an argument I have with myself almost every day. But today it's worse than it has been in a long time because I checked my exercise journal and since last Wednesday, I've logged 290 exercise minutes. More than I normally do in a week. And if I get on the treadmill tonight, I would actually go over 300 minutes in a week, and would proudly have worked out 6 out of 7 days - a real milestone for me.

But I don't want to! Whine, whine, snivel, snivel, complain, complain. I'm tired. My feet hurt. My hip is bothering me. I have a lot of minutes already. I have things to do at home (like they'd get done if I went straight home!). My couch is calling me...


Then, I read my friend Sherry's blog entry from Monday and in it, she published this picture:




YIKES!!!!!!! While I know it to be true that muscle is more dense than fat, seeing is believing! And when you've got as much fat hanging on to your ass as I do, that picture can make even the biggest Connie Complainer (pun intended) stop the complaining!


Holy fat, Batman. Connie needs to get her butt to the gym - pronto!

Thanks, Sherry.



Until next time,


Kel

Look Into the Lighty Spinny Thingy....

My wonderful friend Linda, who lives in Virginia, always sends me the coolest things for Christmas and for my birthday. They're usually Disney-themed items which she had picked up on one of her jaunts to The Happiest Place on Earth. As I've mentioned before, she and her husband Tim are huge Disney fans (I keep asking her to clone Tim and send him to me!) and they usually visit the World as often as they can.

When I finally opened all my presents this year, one of the coolest gifts (at least coolest by my standards!) from her was the Mickey-head lighty-spinny-thingy. I don't know what it's official name is, but I like lighty-spinny-thingy. It's a technical term.

I brought lighty-spinny-thingy to work with me, as I do with all my fun gadgets, games and toys. You'd be surprised how a slinky can make even the most irate attorney calm down and talk to you in a normal tone of voice.

Well, as I calmly sat in my office one day last week, it happened: crackberry (otherwise known as a Blackberry) problems for an attorney. He showed up at my door, yelling at me about fixing it and blah, blah, blah. After the first couple of words spoken in a louder than normal tone, I usually tune out. But today, I grabbed my lighty-spinny-thingy and hit the button and pointed it at him and commaned: "Stare at the lighty-spinny-shiny thingee....you are feeling happy now... you are very happy now... you will stop yelling at Kel now..." Of course, he stopped yelling and just looked at me like I was nuts.

When the initial shock wore off, he laughed and just shook his head at me. Hey - it worked - he calmed down and was able to explain to me in a normal manner what the problem was with his crackberry and within a few minutes, it was fixed.

So, if you work in a job where you occasionally have to interact with people who become irate, irritated, cranky or otherwise unreasonable, may I suggest you make a trip to DisneyWorld and buy yourself a lighty-spinny-thingy? It worked for me!

And thanks Linda for saving my sanity!!

Until Next Time,

Kel

A New Round of Personal Training

I met up with Denise, my favorite personal trainer, at the gym Wednesday night after surviving the Zumba class. We talked for a while, and then I scheduled time with her for another 10 sessions of personal training. It starts tonight.

I'm not nearly as apprehensive about it as I have been in the past. I almost feel a sense of excitement that she's going to be 'torturing' me tonight. That's an odd feeling for me. I couldn't quite figure it out, until I had one of those "aha!" moments after reading an article on SFGate about how to choose a personal trainer. Suddenly, I understood my new found excitement and loss of apprehension.

The article was written by a local personal trainer, and some of what she said describes Denise's style of training and are important characteristics to me:

"... you probably want a little more from your workouts than just instruction. I believe a good trainer can make you do what you cannot, or most likely would not, do on your own ..."

"... she should be able to motivate you, push you, encourage you and inspire you in a way that works with your abilities and your own style. Beyond the fact that having a regular appointment can help get you into the gym ... you should leave your sessions knowing you accomplished something you probably wouldn't have undertaken by yourself ..."

"... A good trainer should not make you feel lousy. Tired? Yes. Sweaty? Yes. Sore? Maybe. As if you are a hopeless loser who can't do anything right? No...."

"...There's a difference between motivating and berating ..."

Wow. These are all so true for me. Especially the last two quotes - I'm always tired, super sweaty and a little sore. But never ever have I felt like a hopeless loser who can't to anything right - Denise is always very positive, encouraging and kind, even when she's being tough. And never once has she even come close to berating me for my size or limitations because of my size - she accepts me for who I am and for what I'm working on and always motivates me to push myself a little further.

I think of Denise more as a friend than just a person that I do business with. And I owe my deepest gratitude to her - she helped to save my life by getting me up and moving.

Until next time,

Kel

Zumba?!?!

I've decided that I must be kind of crazy. If you've read my blog for a while, you know I have no love for exercise, but I do it and have come to appreciate it's benefits. And as you know, I'm just nutty enough to try a class once, and most times, will go back and finish the series no matter how hard it is because I refuse to quit.

Tonight's little adventure included my first attempt at Zumba. I had no idea what Zumba was, but I thought, what the heck. Today around 4:30, I Googled Zumba and found out that it's an aerobic dance class that combines various Latin dance styles, including meringue and salsa and other ones I can't remember. Hmmm, dance. That could be fun!

Yowza! Talk about a workout! I could keep up with everyone pretty well (and, as always, I'm the biggest one in class), but I'm pooped! It's now 2 hours after the class and I'm still sweating!!! I hope that means that my metabolism is still working on burning off some calories right now.

Give me boot camp any day....

Until Next Time,

Kel

Back to Normal...

I loved being on vacation for just over 2 weeks. The best part: being out of the office for 12 whole days! I forgot that I worked, and just relied on that automatic deposit of my paycheck while I was gone. Too bad that can't happen all the time...



I guess I was nervous about being late my first day back, so I found myself looking at the clock about every hour or so through the night. I was wide awake by 5:30 a.m., so I figured I should just get up and get moving since the alarm would start buzzing before too long.



For a Monday and my first day back, today wasn't all that bad. I spent most of the day getting 'caught up' with my office mates - they were all stopping by my office to ask about my trip and my parents' new house and my sister's dog, Stella. Despite the visiting, I actually did get some work done.

I even managed to go to the pool for a water aerobics class tonight. The stretching and flexibility moves felt so good!!


Aero's still not back to being completely normal yet. He wasn't to thrilled when I left for work this morning, and he left me some "presents" on the floor to prove it. I guess it'll take him a few more days to adjust.



Until next time,



Kel

A Whole Hour?

I got back from vacation and went to the gym on Friday morning to hit the treadmill. Not that it's any kind of resolution for the new year to get in shape or anything - just that crazy thought in my head that I missed exercising while I was in New Orleans...

When I arrived, I checked the class schedule for January to find that Denise, my favorite personal trainer, is teaching her cardio kick boxing class on Saturday mornings. Sign me up!! I figured if it didn't kill me in November, I could do it again.

This morning, the alarm started ringing about 6:45. I hit the snooze at least 4 times, trying to convince myself that 8:30 in the morning is way too early to exercise and that I really didn't want to do kick boxing again. At some point in my argument with myself, I realized that the class wan't until 8:30 and that is 2-1/2 hours later than 6:00 a.m., the time that boot camp started each morning and I exercised THAT early on boot camp days... So, I got up, threw on some workout clothes, walked Aero and took off for the gym before I really changed my mind.

Surprise, surprise. I was the first one there. I even beat Denise there. But finally, by just after 8:30, there were seven people there for the class, none of whom were in the previous session. Of course, I had that immediate feeling of supremacy - after all, I had done her CKB class before!

Since I was familiar with the routine and moves, the coordination part of the class came rather easily to me. But what caught me off guard was how well I was able to keep up! I kept looking around and the rest of the class and only 1 other person was keeping up with the pace of the class; the others were stopping and taking breaks quite often, just standing there trying to catch their breath. Now there's a giant non-scale victory if ever I saw one!

As 9:15 approached, I felt like I was gonna fall on the floor! I was tired and starting to feel achy. I kept watching the clock, waiting for Denise to start slowing down and doing some stretching. 9:20 rolled around and we were still going full speed ahead. 9:25, still throwing punches. At 9:27, the stretching began. I kept thinking that maybe she wasn't paying attention to the time or was just enjoying killing us all that she lost track of the time....

Nope. She didn't just tack on an extra fifteen minutes. I looked at the schedule on my way out - the class is an hour long instead of the usual 45 minutes that the evening series lasted. No wonder I felt like I was fading fast - my body isn't used to that extra 15 minutes of torture.

But, I guess I'll just have to go back and try again next Saturday. After all, I can't let 15 minutes beat me.

Until Next Time,

Kel

Cold Shoulder From the Dog

You know those t-shirts that say something like "I Like My Attitude Problem"? I need to get one for Aero. For such a little dog, he sure has a big attitude.

He's been on vacation for the last two weeks, too. He's been with Carol, one of his other favorite humans and owner of iPawd Pet Care. I know that Carol takes the best care of him, and he gets to spend time with lots of other dogs, big and small. He never really seems to mind going there, even if it's just to spend the day.

Carol dropped him off about 10:30 last night, and after gathering my luggage and getting a shuttle home, I arrived about 12:30 this morning. I walked through the front door, expecting to be happily greeted by my furry friend. Not surprising, he wagged his tail at me for about 15 seconds, the politely turned his back to me and sat facing the back of the couch. I picked him up to give him some long overdue love, and he would not look at me. Each time I turned him so that I could see his face, he turned his head in the other direction.

He wouldn't even sleep with me! He growled as he got comfortable in his own bed - and made sure that his back was facing me when he settled in.

The 'cold shoulder' routine lasted all day. The only time he paid attention to me was when he wanted to go outside. Even then his routine was different - he would turn circles in front of the door, but would face the door and bark instead of coming to me and barking at me. All day, he laid on the opposite end of the couch from where I was sitting and most of that time, he made sure he wasn't looking at me.

Finally, around 6:00 tonight, I think he finally forgave me. He timidly inched over toward me and sat next to me, leaning his head on my arm, letting out a big sigh. That was followed by more puppy kisses than I've had in a month.

It's a good thing I love that little guy!

Until next time,

Kel

Choosing Joy #29

Home. Aloneness. Just me and the little dog. Peace and quiet.

Today, my joy is coming home to find Aero curled up on the couch waiting for me.

I love my family dearly, but being away from home and my routine for two weeks was rough.

Thanks to Sherry for this challenge. It made me stop each day and look closely at what made me happy and brought joy to my day. This has been a fun adventure and I've learned a lot about myself!

Until next time,

Kel