Snail Tales

I guess when you're a creature of small stature, you do whatever it takes to make yourself bigger in the world.

We've had a lot of rain here in Northern California in the last two weeks. And don't get me wrong - it's a good thing! I want to be able to shower and do laundry with some regularity during the summer. But I digress...

With the rain comes the snails. Yes, my front porch has become a refuge for snails of every size during the rain storms. They're just your normal, every day average garden snails and they seem to like to hang out on my front door mat. While I do think they're gross, especially the slimy trail they leave behind, I figure they've got a job to do in the garden so I'm not gonna mess with them. And besides, I don't particularly like getting stuck out in the rain getting wet, so let the little buggers have some shelter.

Well, my little furry friend Aero feels quite differently about our porch guests. When it's time for a romp through the yard and I open the door, he ignores them on the way out -- I guess he's got more important things on his mind, like getting over to the tree to 'water' it. But on the way back in, he stops and sniff nearly every snail in his path. Then, he'll growl or bark at it! Each and every danged snail! He doesn't mess with it in any other way, but it's like he's trying to tell them something or prove that he's the bigger creature for once in his life. It cracks me up.

I guess I should be thankful that my little watchdog guards my front porch so well.

Until Next Time,

Kel

And Lent Begins....

I was raised in a very traditional, Southern Catholic family. Went to Catholic school from Kindergarten until the Class of 1980 marched out of the church, diplomas in hand. So naturally, the tradition of 'what are you giving up for Lent?' has been well beaten into my head.

Now, these days, I'm not a practicing Catholic, much to the dismay of my Mom. When I say not practicing, I don't go to church, but I do have faith and I pray and I live my life as a good Christian should. And even though I don't practice the Catholic rituals on a regular basis, I still observe Lent. I figure it's one small step I can take in my otherwise heathenous (is that a word?) life that may get me a pass through the pearly gates.

So, this year I'm going to vow to give up 2 of my favorite things for Lent: Diet Coke and fast food. The Diet Coke part is going to be the hardest for me - I love the stuff. It's my morning shot of caffeine since I'm not much of a coffee drinker. The fast food? Well, since I've been working out so hard, I've pretty much been staying away from it, but do have my moments of weakness (like last night - that Taco Bell run with Aero just before settling in to watch "The Biggest Loser" was mighty tasty) on occasion. So that should be fairly easy to do.

I'm also going to cut out as much refined sugar as I can from my diet. I shouldn't have the stuff anyway since I'm diabetic, but I do tend to indulge myself since between my diet, exercise and medications, I've had my blood sugar pretty well under control for a while. So out with the white stuff!

Beyond the usual 'give _________ up for Lent' routine, I've decided that this year, I need to do something positive in my life, so I'm going to try to get some volunteer time in somewhere. Last year, when Christian visited me for Easter, I signed the two of us up to serve lunch at one of the big soup kitchens in San Francisco. It was a real eye-opener for both of us, and it also helped me find compassion that I didn't know was buried somewhere down deep in my heart. I need to find that feeling again.

So here we go. The next 40 days are going to be interesting.

Until Next Time,

Kel

I've Been Tagged!

Thanks to my friend (and the retreat hostess with the mostest!) Cathy for this fun challenge. It seems pretty easy: The rules are to find and post the 6th photo in the 6th album on your computer. Hmmmm....

This was from my trip to Disneyworld in December of 2007. It's a Great Horned Owl outside the "Flights of Wonder" show at Disney's Animal Kingdom Park. The trainer does a pre-show talk about the owl, who just calmly sits there and observes the crowd.

From my vantage point, the owl looks like he's sitting on top of some guy's head!

Thanks again, Cathy! Maybe I'll add another entry when I get home tonight using my home computer's files (yeah, this one was on my work computer - shame on me!)

Until Next Time,

Kel

Did I Have to Graduate?

Yesterday I met with Denise, my much loved Personal Trainer. We normally meet every Friday, but both had scheduling conflicts, so we rescheduled for mid-afternoon on President's Day. That was kind of fun for me - working out in the middle of the day instead of at the end of the day.

Starting with squats, Denise proudly announced "Today, you've graduated." Huh? What? Graduated? What da' heck.... She handed me 20 pound weights. Oh, I get it. Graduating means more weight. Oh, goody.

And it wasn't just the squats that I 'graduated' to more weight. It was bent over rows - to 20 pounds AND standing, instead of sitting. And 25 pounds on the chest press machine. And 150 pounds on the leg press machine. And 10 pounds on the hammer to press. And 50 calf raises instead of 25. And a new position for wall push-ups. And crunches in a new position.

I can hardly move today. I think my triceps took the worst of it - it hurts to type. Heck, it hurts to even think!

I suppose I should be excited that Denise thinks I've progressed enough to make my workout harder. Maybe when the pain subsides I'll feel excited. But for now, it hurts too much to be excited.

Can I un-graduate this Friday?

Until next time,

Kel

An Award?! Me?! Wow!

I really need to stay current with my blog reading. I follow several blogs and some weeks, I just don't have the time to visit them all daily. That'll teach me, since my friend Sherry very kindly passed on the "Friendship Award" to me via her blog a few days ago. Here's the scoop:


“These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award.”

Thanks, Sherry! I'm touched that you thought of me when picking 8 bloggers to share this award with.

Now, my problem is to find eight bloggers that I could pass this on to.... I'll start with some ladies I know and follow and will come back as I think of anyone else. Sorry that I can't start with 8 - maybe I need to make some more friends!

I hereby pass on the Friendship Award to:

1) Cathy

2) Buckeye Benita

3) Cali

4) Jodi

5) Menjiness

Okay, I'm off to make some new blogging friends so that I can pass on this cool award!

Until Next Time,

Kel

Ooooooo Girl, You Work Out?

I was having a typical Thursday - nothing real exciting going on all day, looking forward to going home after the gym and vegging out in front of the tv for 3 hours with my favorite furry friend...

All week I've been fighting with my self-esteem. It's been a nasty battle, one that I've mostly been losing. I've missed working out 6 days this month and seeing that it's only the 12th today, that's not a really good start. That didn't help me battle the 'this is why you're fat' demons I've been hearing all week.

When I left the office tonight, I decided I should stop at the running gear shop and buy a new pair of shoes. I've had this pair since August and because of the stupid orthotics, I have to wear them every day, all day and the support is breaking down. Denise has recommended to me for quite some time now that I replace them, but the pain I've had in my ankle this week was the deciding factor.

So, I sheepishly schlepped in to the store, feeling totally out of place (as always) in a store that caters to the 'beautiful people' who are runners and athletes. I was met by a most charming, totally hot young man who's greeting "hi, happy Friday! I'd like to be of assistance - what can I help you with this evening?" immediately put me at ease. When I explained I wanted a pair of the same running shoes that were on my feet, he led me to the shoe section, invited me to sit so that he could take a look at my shoes and my feet and help me make sure I was getting the right shoes for the activities I participated in. He offered me something to drink while I sat that, which totally caught me off guard - this is customer service at it's finest!

Well, as we chatted a little about why I wanted these particular shoes, he dragged over the shoe salesman's stool, sat in front of me and grabbed my calf, guiding my foot to the foot rest. At that point, he exclaimed "Oooooooo girl, you work out?!" I was caught just a little off guard and was slightly speechless and perplexed by his reaction. He immediately apologized for his behavior, saying that he didn't expect my calf to be as hard and muscular as it is.

"Don't apologize" I said, "thanks for the compliment!" Hey - I've worked hard for the last 8 months and am proud of my hard, muscular calves. We both laughed and chatted some more about my workouts. I really cracked up when he flexed his bicep and said "okay, let's see how much you really work out - let me check out your bicep..." "Bicep?" I said with a smug look on my face as I flexed. "No, baby, I've got guns." He was quite impressed with my guns.

He did check and unfortunately, the shoes I need are out of stock, but he promised to get a pair from one of the other stores for me by tomorrow or Monday. He continued being quite charming and I felt very flattered by it all. Of course, this is probably the guy's m.o. and sales tactic, but hey, it got me over my self-esteem fight very quickly. In my mind, I was being hit on by a hot guy who is half my age.

I can't wait to go back and get my new shoes. All I know is Mr. Hottie Man better be there to feel up my legs and biceps again.

Until next time,

Kel

It's After 5:00...Shouldn't I Be at a Happy Hour Somewhere?

I am very thankful for my job, especially with today's economic craziness. I shouldn't complain about it, but, Connie Complainer is in the house (er, the office) today and that's just what I'm going to do. Complain about my job.

As the lone IT person in this office, I get to do all the fun stuff that involves electricity. You know, unplug a power strip from one outlet in a conference room and plug it in to the outlet on the opposite wall... Yeah, I looked like a genius in front of a room full of attorneys this morning. I also get to set up video conference equipment, laptops, projectors and conference phones for meetings. And that's why I'm still in the office, 20 minutes after quitting time.

There's a meeting that started at 3:00 that's still going strong that's using a laptop and projector. Unfortunately, I can't just leave the equipment sitting in the conference room over night. It needs to be secured before I go home. Oh, yeah, there's another meeting starting in another conference room at 6:00 that needed projection equipment that I'm waiting on. As soon as those folks show up and I get them squared away, I can run screaming from the building.

It's nice to feel needed - up to a point. And that point was 5:00, which has come and gone. I'd much rather be at a happy hour somewhere with me being needy with my two best friends: Margaret and Rita (get it? margarita?).

Until next time,

Kel (a/k/a Connie Complainer)

Organizing... Or Not!

I haven't held a scrapbooking event at my house in over a year. My customers probably hate me by now, but I have a really, really good reason: my workshop's an absolute mess!

Yes, it's hard to admit it, but I've let my workshop (a/k/a the garage - it just sounds more professional when I call it 'the workshop') go to hell in a handbasket. It has become the dumping ground for anything and everything, and it's been piling up for over a year. And when I do get out there to work on some altered items or (gasp!) get some scrapping done, I just move the crap around to open up a space big enough for me to work in.

So, three weekends ago, I decided it was time to take the bull by the horns and get that danged room in some sort of shape - if not for my customers, at least for myself because quite honestly, it's getting on my last nerve. I did take a picture before I started, which I won't post now. I'll wait until I'm done and post the before and after together. That gives me a goal to work toward.

The thing that kills me about trying to get organized is how much of a mess you make while you're trying to do it! Sheesh! I'm trying the pile method: this pile is to keep, this pile is to send to my goddaughter Adrienne (lots of crafting supplies!), this pile is to put in the recycle bin, this pile is to be shredded.... the list of piles goes on and on. Unfortunately, the piles seem to be making things worse because it's getting harder and harder to maneuver around out there. At one point, I had 'piled' myself into a corner and had to go potty...that was a fun moment in my life!

The good part of this little project is that I've actually got some old scrapping supplies that I can send to my friend Pad in Wisconsin for her neglected teens' scrapbooking class that starts in April. At least somebody will find a good use for the stuff that I've been collecting!

Hmmm. Maybe I'll just leave it messy and unorganized for another month or so. It'll be much easier!

Until Next Time,

Kel
So, wish me well as I work on this huge project.

10 Things....

My friend Sherry always posts the best challenges. A few days ago, when catching up on her blog, she participated in a "10 Things" writing challenge. Of course, I needed to play along, so here we go: The rules of the game are simple. Once assigned a letter you are to post 10 things that you love which begin with that letter.


As luck would have it, my letter is "K" - kind of appropriate, don't you think?

1) scrapbooking Kits: Lately, I've been just crazy about buying kits of paper, ribbons, rub-ons, flowers, stickers - if they're all coordinated, I need it!


2) Hershey's Kisses: Chocolate. Need I say more?

3) My tea Kettle: It's short and stout. Just like me.

4) Kittens: I love dogs. But kittens are cute and cuddly.

5) Karaoke: After knocking back a few cocktails, I've been known to get up on stage and belt out some tunes. And no, I'm not ready for American Idol.

6) Kick Boxing: Yeah, that's right. I'm bad. I'm tough. I can kick some butt.

7) Kids: Well, I don't have any of my own. And I'm not crazy about most kids. But, there are 3 very special kids in my life: Christian, Nicholas and Adrienne!

8) Kites: With springtime just around the corner, I can't wait to see the colorful kites flying around everywhere. When I was a kid, we'd always get a kite in the springtime and go out near the river or lakefront to fly our kites (cue the music "Let's Go Fly a Kite" from Mary Poppins).


9) Kel's Korner: I've always enjoyed writing, and back in the day, would get good grades in any creative writing classes I would take. This blog has given me the opportunity to get back to doing something I love on a regular basis.


10) puppy Kisses: There's nothing like a good lick from your furry best friend!


Thanks again, Sherry, for a fun challenge!

Until Next Time,

Kel

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