Honeymoon Envy

I have to admit, this is a tough week for me. Sunday Jessi and Jeremy left on a fabulous honeymoon in Mexico. But not just in Mexico--they're staying at the same resort Keith and I stayed at for our honeymoon.

We had an amazing time on the honeymoon. We loved the resort, and the beaches. I loved getting to sleep in, take an afternoon siesta after laying on the beach all morning, and reading by the pool in the afternoon. I don't know if there's ever been a time where I was as relaxed as I was on the honeymoon.

So all this week, I come to work and think about the resort and being on our honeymoon. I know that Jessi and Jeremy are having a great time; I picture them laying by the pool or eating in one of the restaurants, and think about how I wish I was there. (Not with them on their honeymoon of course, that would be creepy.)

Jessi did have a great idea--we all go back to that resort in 5 years. We've also been working on Keith's brother and fiancee to honeymoon at the same resort (It's a tradition!) but I don't think they're going for it. So while I'm jealous this week, I'll console myself with thoughts of being back on that beach and by that pool 5 years from now.

Running in Louisville

The wedding ceremony was beautiful, taking place in the garden pictured on the left. And of course the reception was a lot of fun.

But for me, I really enjoyed getting to see a bit of Louisville. I've only been there twice before, and both times we didn't get out much--just hung out with friends or family.

This time, we had plenty of free time during the days. Friday morning, several of us went for a run in a nearby city park. We got a little lost, as happens, and it took us a while to even find our way into the park. But once we were there, it was gorgeous. We ended up asking a local runner for directions to find our way back (I had visions of the mother-of-the-bride being unable to attend the ceremony following heat stroke from an accidental 10-mile run).

He kindly told us the right direction, and even left off his run to escort us to the right place. We learned that he lived just outside the park and had been running in it for 30 years. We were all jealous--how wonderful to have this amazing green space right outside your door.

Friday afternoon I went to the zoo with some more family. Then Saturday evening there was a casual wedding reception at a local bar in downtown Louisville, right by the Bats' stadium. It was a gorgeous evening, and we enjoyed sitting outside in the city. Sunday morning, Keith and I got one more run through the park in before leaving for the drive home. Hopefully we can get back to Louisville soon so we can see more of the city, and get to run in that park again.

Wedding in Louisville

So apparently I've been a very bad blogger of late. Apologies! We can all hope it's not a trend starting, but one never knows....

As many of you are aware, we were in Louisville last weekend for Keith's sister's wedding. It was a really beautiful ceremony and it was great to see all of his extended family. Even better, his brother is getting married in October, so we'll see everyone again in just a few months!

As Jessi was working through the details of wedding and reception planning, I remembered just how much work goes into planning a wedding. Keith and I said to each other several times, "I'm so glad we're already married and done with all of that."

But then, when it came to the ceremony, it brought back so many good memories of our wedding that it made me want to do it all over again. Jessi compared it to childbirth--once it's all over, the pain and anguish fades, and you just remember the beautiful result. I would have to agree with her about the wedding planning, although I can't speak to the childbirth experience.

Maybe we'll have a rededication of vows ceremony at some point. Nothing too big; maybe just 50 people, I'm picturing something indoors this time, with a live band ....

Congratulations to Jessica and Jeremy, the newlyweds!

Extreme Makeover: Home Edition

As happens in the summer, our backlog of TV shows to watch has just about dried up. So last Sunday night, we were relaxing after the cook-out and cruising the channels for something to watch.

I saw "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition" on the guide, and asked Keith to stop. There was only about 15 minutes of the show left, but I wanted to check it out. I knew the basic premise--something about good people in bad situations and Ty shows up and suddenly they have a brand-new, fabulous house. But I'd never actually seen the show.

I thought I'd like it. I like home improvement shows, and through in the angle about helping these worthy people .... it's the sort of thing that would bring a tear to your eye, and get you hooked on both interior design tips and feel-good emotion.

Yeah, I hated it. They tore down this family's house, and actually BOUGHT the lot next door because the existing lot wasn't big enough for the ginormous palace they created in its place.

The whole thing was just so ridiculous. Hard wood everywhere. Recessed lighting. One daughter's room had a "boutique" theme, and all of her clothes were hung on a revolving rack. The other daughter's room included a life-sized dollhouse built into the room, complete with three floors and furniture. The son's room included a lot of camouflage and a slide. (The picture here is from the show's photo gallery--there's many, many more pictures if you're interested.)

I understand that the wife/mother is a cancer-survivor, and she has dedicated her life to eradicating cancer. That is, indeed, very touching. But I couldn't be happy for the family about their new house. I just kept thinking that the show seemed to say that rampant consumerism is the answer to all the world's problems, and I'm just not convinced.

So now they have a house that's roughly 3 times bigger than their old home. I'm sure I'm not supposed to mention this, but ... they still have to pay the utility bills. Which are going to be substantial. And what happens when dollhouse daughter gets older? That "life-sized dollhouse" is built into the room. Not very easy to remove. Nor is the moving closet, when it breaks.

What is this family's children learning? That if you're a good person, you'll be rewarded in this life? That's not necessarily the case, and often the opposite is true. Or have they learned that spending lots of money always makes you feel better? That may be true, but it's usually not sustainable.

In a way, I was glad to realize that my tolerance for reality TV can be exceeded, and that's one show that's off the list.

Cook-out

On Sunday, we had a cook-out. It served dual purposes--to celebrate Keith's birthday and also the fact that we've been in the house for a year. Saturday I realized that it also served a third, important purpose: to get me to actually clean around the house and the yard.

Between working full-time, starting our business, joining the writing group, and the everyday busy-ness that is life, I don't think I'm very good at just taking time to relax. Whenever I sit and watch TV or read a book, I feel guilty because there's so many tasks left on my to-do list. I really should be more productive.

But on Sunday, with the cook-out, I really did relax. We'd done most of the prepwork on Saturday, so on Sunday we slept in and still had a leisurely morning to do some light cleaning and cooking before guests arrived. The music played in the background, good food was plentiful, the dogs (Beckett plus Erin's golden retriever and chocolate lab) raced around the backyard, the cornhole competition heated up, and the conversation flowed. And I relaxed.

I wish I could claim that I actually took an entire day off. But I did sneak in some writing and business time before getting ready for the cook-out. And, after it was all over, I of course felt guilty for all the lost hours of productivity.

But I think that the delicious food, great company, and relaxed atmosphere of the cook-out was good for me. I need to better about taking time off to slow down and enjoy life .... It's on the to-do list.

Happy House Anniversary!

It's hard to believe, but we've now been in our house for over a year. Just 29 more years of payments to go!

That picture is actually from move-in weekend last year. The house doesn't look very different from the outside; we took out the two bushes next to the front steps, and trimmed the rest. And a UD flag is proudly flying from the front porch.

It's a great feeling to have been there a year, and also know that we'll be there for many more. Ever since graduating from college, we've spent so much time and effort moving from one apartment/city to the next. I'm ready to be settled in the same place for a while. I hope to one day be here long enough to only receive mail addressed to us and resident--no more missives for former residents.

I know! It's probably just a pipe dream. But I can dream....

Business: Full Speed Ahead

Okay, maybe not "full speed," but we're making some progress.

A few months ago, I posted about possibly starting a web design/development business with Keith. We decided to go ahead and give it a shot because it's the kind of business that doesn't take a lot of money/dedication to start. You just kinda tell people you're open for business and see what happens.

That was how I thought of it, anyway. Of course, it's required significantly more effort than that. We've been busy re-designing the websites of three family/friend guinea pigs, so we can offer a portfolio of successful sites to prospective clients. I've also been really busy on the business end, registering our business as an LLC (still in the works), creating a basic contract, coming up with rates and standard packages to offer. Oh, and we still need a website of our own--minor detail.

Our original goal was to be "open for business" as of July 1, so it was a clear split for tax purposes between working from home and not. I don't know about that date anymore--I'm thinking it'll still be sometime in July, but not by Sunday. Definitely not by Sunday.

I'll let you know when there's more news. I know you all can't wait to hire us and pay us lots of money so I can quit my day job!

Financial Blogs

I've decided that one of the reasons I've been such a slacker on the blog lately is because I've been too busy reading other people's blogs.

Specifically, personal finance blogs. I'm addicted! You get financial advice, which I crave even though 93% of it doesn't apply to me in any way, shape, or form. But you also get a glimpse into someone else's life, as they tell you about the trials and triumphs of their own financial dealings.

Right now, my two favorites are The Simple Dollar and An English Major's Money. So when I don't post, go check these out because I was probably too busy getting caught up here to keep track of my own blog.

Virtual checking

So I've been pondering switching to virtual checking because of better interest rates. We currently bank where I've been a member for the past 7 years. Really, we've only stayed out of convenience and have never really considered our options.

Our current checking account has a flatlined 0% interest rate. Our savings gets a whopping .2% interest and has a $300 minimum or else we're penalized. Last year we made an anemic $9.41 in interest.

On the other hand, ING Direct offer Electric Orange accounts (aka checking) with 5.3% Annual Percent Yield and savings accounts with 4.5%APY.

However, you don't have paper checks readily available. If you want to write a check, you have to go online and fill out the information and the check will be mailed out. So check-writing is no longer a spur-of-the-moment activity. In the past year, we've probably only written a handful of checks, and I can probably count on one hand the number of those that needed to be filled out and handed over immediately.

But still. It makes me kinda nervous. Also, they pointed out at the Well-Heeled: 20something Money blog that Washington Mutual offers a similar APY AND instantaneous transfers between savings and checking accounts. Which I guess means that ING doesn't offer that.

Has anyone taken their banking complete online? Good idea or bad idea? (Bob B., I'm looking in your direction since you're my finance buddy.)

anyone done it? Advice?

Real Simple

For Christmas, I asked for a subscription to Real Simple magazine. My parents gave it to me, and .... 4 months later .... I started receiving it. (How can it take 16 weeks to activate a magazine subscription?!? But that's a whole different blog entry.)

I remember reading the magazine a few years ago and liking it. Their instructions on knitting a scarf is what first inspired me to try knitting. Now, countless scarves, one shawl, and two baby blankets later, it's one of my favorite hobbies.

So I was excited to get the magazine again. Their tagline is "Life made easier" and their "about" page says that the publication's:

concise, useful strategies, coupled with a clean, inspiring design, focus on making busy women’s lives easier, from preparing a fast, healthy breakfast to getting a good night’s sleep. In essence, Real Simple helps its readers do what they need to do, so they have more time to enjoy what they want to do.

I always thought this translated into bringing simplicity in your life. Focusing on what you have and making the most out of it. But after getting this magazine for a few months, I realized I was wrong, wrong, WRONG.

Apparently your life is easier if you buy LOTS of stuff. All the magazine offers is suggestions on what to buy in different categories of your life. In the most recent issue, I heard what I should buy to make traveling with pets easier (including a tent for the dog), what kinds of wine I should purchase, which brand tooth whitener is the best, and how to eat ice cream without drips (cake cones are a no-no, they say). Really? This is really supposed to make my life easier? Simpler?!?

And there was a Hummer ad on the back cover.

Ahead and Yet Falling Behind

Firstly, sorry I was such a slacker last week on the blog. No good reason--I just didn't get around to it. Sorry about that--this week will be better. As a matter of fact, by virtue of this post it already is! Isn't it great to set low expectations?;)

But on a much more productive note, I had a fabulous weekend. Saturday we ran errands and hung out. And Sunday morning we had a race--the 17th Annual A Most Excellent Race. I was pretty nervous about it for several reasons.

Ever since I started running 3 years ago, I've had a goal of finishing a 5k under 30 minutes. This isn't a particularly fast time by any stretch of the imagination, but to me it was a challenge--and obviously a difficult one as, 3 years later, it still stands. I thought I had a good chance with this race because the course is about a mile from our house. It's the same streets that we run every day. They're flat, and I know them like the back of my hand, which can be a huge psychological advantage, I think, when you actually have a sense of where miles 2 and 3 will come up.

However, I've been sick and pretty much out of commission for 2 weeks prior to the race. On Wednesday morning, Beckett and I ran the course to get an idea of what to expect. Shockingly, we finished in 28:50--clearly under 30 minutes. Even granting that I may have been slightly off in my route plotting (e.g., cutting a corner here or there), the test run showed that I should be able to finish in under 30 minutes.

I kinda did the test run to show myself that it wasn't going to happen, and take the pressure off for race day. But obviously, I had the opposite result. Luckily the weather on race day was gorgeous and it all went well. I managed to keep up a good pace and finished in 29:14. Yay for me!!! I finally met my running goal--which is also another check on the New Year's Resolutions list.

Of course, being the person I am, as we sat in the shade by the side of the course, waiting for others to finish, I felt a little bereft. Adrift. What would I do without that goal? I suppose I have to come up with another one now. But doesn't this mean I can never again be satisfied with a race over 30 minutes? I just don't know how to feel!

Other than the angst of a goal-reached, it was a fabulous day. Especially the part where we walked the dogs and stopped for some gelato. Mmmmmm .... so last week I fell behind on the blog, but met my running goal for the first time ever. You can't have everything, right?

P.S. And everyone should wish Keith a "Happy Birthday" today. Now he's old, just like me!

Camping Pack List 2

After work tonight, we'd headed off on our second camping trip of the year. Two weekends in a row! Unfortunately, this is the last camping trip we have planned, but hopefully we'll be able to fit in one or two more.

Last weekend, it became apparent that Keith and I haven't camped by ourselves very much. Most often, we camp with our families, who tend to provide some of the basic necessities that we forget about, like trash bags or water. We're still learning what we need to pack, and what we assumed we own, but really don't--we've always borrowed.

A week ago, Keith and I were the first to arrive at the campsite. We eagerly set up the tent and Keith got a great fire going. We sat down, ready to roast some hot dogs .... and realized we didn't have any cooking sticks to roast the hot dogs on. Problem.

My parents arrived shortly, however, and we used theirs. Last night, I went grocery shopping for the weekend and bought some brauts to cook over the fire tonight. On the way home from the grocery store, it occurred to me all over again--we don't have any way to cook them. Unless we cut them up and put them in the pie-iron pizza cookers, which just isn't the same.

Probably Jen and Ben have sticks. They camp a lot more than us, and are just generally more prepared. (I mean, they're parents--they have to be prepared, right?) So probably we can just use theirs. But it's the principle of the thing! Some day, we're going to camp on our own. And we're going to want hot dogs, and marshmallows, and all sorts of other things that are cooked over a fire on sticks. We should be ready for that situation.

So I've been trying to figure out where to get these things, and exactly what they're called. First I tried Dick's Sporting Goods--no luck there. Then I tried Cabela's, who is--according to their website, the "World's Foremost Outfitter." No luck there either. This is crazy!!

Finally, I found them at Summit Camping Gear. According to this site, they are Camping Forks. And ready to be shipped today. Which is great news but, sadly, will probably not help us out tonight. But at least if I put an order in when we get back, for the next camping trip we'll be one step closer to self-sufficiency.

The Cleveland Accent

Keith has been claiming for years now that there's a Cleveland accent. Something about the vowels in "milk" and "pillow" that seems to grate on his nerves.

I can't say I ever really noticed a Cincinnati accent, other than the peculiar use of "please" instead of "excuse me" when a person didn't hear something.

This morning I took a quiz: What American accent do you have? I was surprised to learn that Cleveland is considered a Northern--rather than a Midwestern--accent.

My results are below. Other Clevelanders--are you the same?

Northern

You have a Northern accent. That could either be the Chicago/Detroit/Cleveland/Buffalo accent (easily recognizable) or the Western New England accent that news networks go for.

Overindulged Pets ... on a Budget

I often think our pets are overindulged. Spoiled rotten. Pampered beyond repair.

Beckett gets walked/run twice a day. He gets treats every morning. We've installed a second waterbowl on the back porch, so when he's outside 12 hours a day, he doesn't even have to come inside to replenish his fluids. Did I mention that I put a CD on for him every morning when I leave for work?

And of course, Gomez is not left out. The house is littered with her toys. She gets her food dish topped off and fresh water every morning and night. And it's generally understood that we spend all our time praising the animals, telling them how wonderful/intelligent/amazing they are. They just take it in stride.

But even though our attitude may be overindulgent, it could be a lot worse. Beckett's daily "treats" are a handful of cereal or some peanut butter. And Gomez's toys are all twist ties, milk jug rings, or twine. We may overindulge our pets, but at least we don't break the bank doing it.
Hopefully we'll be able to say the same thing about the kids, someday.

Camping Pack List

I like packing for camping. I realized this on Friday afternoon, as we hurriedly threw everything into bags for a weekend camping trip with my family. There's no worrying about having brown and black shoes to match all of your outfits, or if people will be wearing skirts or pants to a dressy event.

Jeans, shorts, sweatshirt, a few t-shirts. Just the basics. And after the first night, everything smells like campfire smoke anyway, so you might as well just wear the same clothes all weekend.

Obviously camping has its own set of specific necessities--bug spray, sunscreen, matches, shower flipflops. But even with all that, it feels much more low maintenance than packing for a civilized trip. At least, that's my story until we show up at the campsite next weekend and realize we forgot the tent.

Room for Resting

Two days in a row now, this lady has completely freaked me out.

In my normal routine, I head out to lunch about 12:30. I stop by the restroom on my way to the lunchroom. After diligently washing my hands, I go to eat lunch.

But for the past two days, I open to door to the restroom and there's a woman right there, apparently passed out on the couch. (To clarify, the door opens on a small sitting area, separated from the toilet stalls and sinks by a wall partition.) I have several problems with this:

1. Obviously, she can't really be dead to the world. I mean, the door opens noisily about 2 feet from her, if that, and people must be constantly going in and out. So she's just pretending to be asleep.
2. Who actually rests in a restroom?!? I don't actually find it to be a very relaxing place, even with a couch and sitting area. You take care of business and get out of there.
   

It's just very alarming to open the door, your mind on other things, and to have this dead body a few feet away. If she's still there next week, it might be worth walking to another restroom in the building. I don't think my heart can keep taking the shock of finding a person resting right there.

At War with Myself

There's something else about being sick that I've realized, quite painfully, for the past 2 nights at 3 o'clock in the morning.

I've been taking many, many drugs. Cold and allergy pills. Generic Dayquil. Cough drops. Nasal spray decongestant. I take them all, simultaneously, so that I can function throughout the day.

And I do make it through. I may whine a tad, but I do manage to get to work, stay upright in my chair for 8 hours, and drive home. Where I take all the meds all over again.

But at 3 o'clock in the morning, the meds have all worn off. I wake up, coughing and unable to breathe because my nose is completely congested. My mouth is completely arid from breathing with it hanging open all night, and my chest hurts from the latest coughing fit. I stagger to the bathroom for another round of meds.

It's at this point I realize I'm at war with my body. Until then, I could pretend that the cold is passing, and I'm feeling better naturally. All of these medicines aren't really doing that much, right? Only when my body reverts back to its natural, miserable state do I realize how much the medicines were doing until they're not doing it anymore.

So now I'm afraid to ever be devoid of medicine again. Maybe tonight I'll set my alarm for 2:30, so I can wake up and pop a couple pills before that terrible 3 o'clock realization that I am still truly, horribly sick. Maybe in a few weeks I'll scale back the meds, and see if I can actually breathe on my own or not.

1st Ever Annual

I remember having this argument when trying to start a literary journal on-campus. Myself and the other editor pimped our writing contest as the "First Ever Annual" contest for the journal. Others argued that it couldn't actually be an annual event until the second year. Until then, it's a one-time only thing. So a "first annual," according to these people, is an impossibility.

I was just reminded of this because blogger is pimping the Pixelodeon Fest that's being run by someone they know. (Ahhh, to know the right people.) In the description, it says:

Pixelodeon is an annual independent video festival recognizing innovation, inspiration, and community in global online video. This is our inaugural year!

So is this correct or incorrect? Does anyone really care either way? At least if it's wrong, I'm not the only one to ever make that mistake.

Being Sick Sucks

And being sick when you're a temp and don't get paid for sick time is even worse. We just took off 3 days for the funeral in New York. Then we had last Monday off as a holiday. And this week, I'm sick, courtesy of Keith's family at the funeral.

It's not enough I haven't been able to sleep for a week because Keith is hacking up a lung every night. No! I have to get sick, too.

Looking at Word's clipart depressed me even further. I searched on the word "sick" and it came up with all sorts of sick people laying in bed, being cared for by others. These sickies got to relax and get better. But can I do that? No! Because if I stay home, I don't get paid. And I've already done too much of that.

So I pop various pills and elixirs in the morning, arm myself with cough drops and Kleenex, and head into work. Where people give me the evil eye for showing up and possibly infecting them. But if you would pay me to stay home, I would happily do it!

Then, I head home. And since Keith's sick too, there's no rest to be had. We're both miserable, and we still have to walk the dog, make dinner, clean the kitchen, etc.

Can you tell I'm really a wuss when it comes to getting sick? I've been wallowing in self-pity for a couple days now, so hopefully that means this cold will be on its way soon.

Not Traveling

It's Friday afternoon, I get off work in a few hours, and I feel fabulous. Because tonight, I'm going to go home.

That's it! I'm just going home. I'm not going to Cincinnati, or New York, or Louisville, or even to my parents' on the West side. This weekend, I'm just going to be home.

We do have some errands to run, but I think we can keep them to within a 10-mile radius of our house. Otherwise, we're going to get things done around the house, and maybe even relax a little bit. Sleep in, read a book.

And the best news is that, for June, we don't have any big trips planned. We're going camping, but that's local. So by the time of my sister-in-law's wedding in early July down in Louisville, I might actually be ready for another road trip!

Guilty Pleasure: Workout

I've been doing pretty well working out this year. My New Year's resolution was to do strength training at least 6 times every month and, as of the end of May, I've managed to stick to that. Yay, me!

What has really helped is finding my guilty workout pleasure show on Bravo. It's called, quite simply, Workout, and is a reality TV show about a gym in Los Angeles. There's not a whole lot going on here. Some relationship angst, co-worker fights, etc. But mostly it's beautiful trainers, helping beautiful people stay in shape. But, for good measure, they do throw in a few out-of-shape (aka normal) people that they're rehabilitating.

And even when it drives me crazy, I still love to watch it while I work out. It's not quite the same as having my own personal trainer, but until I have that best-selling novel, this is probably the closest I'll come.

Return to Sender

Before I start my rant about our U.S. Postal Service, I have to add a disclaimer: my father-in-law is a postal carrier. I know that many--probably most--are wonderful, dedicated people who do a fantastic job and make our everyday lives a little easier.

However, that is not the case with our mail carrier. I was always taught that, under certain circumstances, the mailbox is a two-way communication device. If the mail has been delivered to the wrong house, or if you have a package delivery slip that needs to be signed, you can leave these items in the mailbox and your postal carrier will respond appropriately. He or she will take away the incorrect mail, or deliver the package.

At our house, this does not happen. When we leave mail in the mailbox, that's exactly where it stays.

Does our mailman think that we're too lazy to bring in all of our mail? Or maybe, because we don't get a lot of mail, he thinks we like to leave some in the box for the next day. To tide us over, as it were.

So now our dilemma is that, if mail is incorrectly delivered to our house, we have absolutely no way to get it back to its rightful owner without excessive time and effort on our part. The other week, I walked a piece of mail a block over and dropped it in their mailbox. Even though I had to walk the dog anyway, I was still irritated. I spent the whole time thinking, "This isn't my job! I shouldn't be delivering mail!"

We've tried leaving the mailbox open, with the mail sticking up so he notices it. We've tried folding the mail over the edge of the box, so it's hanging halfway out. If anyone has another other ideas of how we might convince our mail carrier we actually left that mail there for a reason, I'm open to suggestions.

A Quiet Homecoming

Well, we're back. The trip to New York was sad and good, if that's possible. Obviously the wake and funeral were hard for everyone, but it was also good to spend time with Keith's family, and hear so many wonderful stories about his uncle.

The next time we'll see them will be under much happier circumstances--at Keith's sister's wedding in early July. That seems far off, but I'm sure it'll be here before we know it.

I'm happy to report that our animals have not forgotten who we are, and actually seemed to miss us. I was afraid that, between cat treats for Gomez at my parent's house, and a rambunctious doggie playmate for Beckett at Erin and Josh's house, they wouldn't want to come home. But they seemed glad to be back at the house, investigating every corner to ensure nothing had changed in their absence. They both slept with us last night, and Gomez even curled up on my lap this morning for a few minutes before work.

I'm really looking forward to walking Beckett when I get home from work, and just getting back into the routine of things. Of the past 6 weekends, we've been gone for 4. I'm excited for some quiet, uneventful time at home.

Sad News

Unfortunately, I have a very good reason to go MIA the rest of the week. Tomorrow morning we're flying out to New York for the wake/funeral of Keith's uncle. He was a wonderful man, and he'll be truly missed. Please keep Keith's family in your thoughts and prayers.

The Nefarious Influence of the Roaming Gnome

While we were in Cincinnati this weekend, the kids stayed with Aunt Erin and Uncle Josh. We were pretty excited about it because Erin and Josh have two large, rambunctious dogs, and the only time I've ever seen Beckett worn out is after a visit to their house. So we were looking forward to picking up a tired puppy and content kitten on Sunday.

One thing we hadn't counted on was the nefarious influence of their Roaming Gnome. As the picture below shows, he had quite a bad effect on our previously angelic dog. Before meeting the gnome, Beckett was perfectly behaved.

He wasn't the kind of dog to steal an entire package of margarine off the counter, leaving only a chewed corner of the box as evidence of the deed. He certainly wouldn't be caught standing in the middle of the dining room table. And assuredly he wasn't the sort of animal who would be on dog bed #3, because he'd ripped the first two to shreds when our backs were turned. Not our baby!

So take this perfect, precious puppy, introduce him to a Roaming Gnome, and see what happens. Beware--it could happen to you, too! (Pictures and storyline courtesy of Erin and Josh.)

Weekend without Running

Yay! For the first time in a few weeks, I don't have a race this weekend. Instead, we're heading down to Cincinnati for my sister-in-law's wedding shower.

I'm looking forward to not running at all on Saturday. I'll be sitting comfortably at the shower, eating cookies and cakes and drinking Coke, working hard to regain any calories I've expended recently during my races. And loving every minute of it!

Parking Etiquette

It doesn't happen often, but sometimes when leaving work, I end up walking to the parking lot with another employee.

Yesterday, it was someone I didn't know. So we didn't really talk, just walked a few feet apart to the lot and got into our respective cars.

Particularly in a small parking lot such as ours, I think there's a certain parking etiquette. Similar to how you don't bowl when the person at the lane next to yours is already up, I think it's impolite to pull out of your parking spot at the same time. But if I get in the car first, and she turns her car on first, who has right of way?

I wasn't in a big hurry, and she seemed like she was further along in the process since her car was running, so I made a show of grabbing my cell phone and calling Keith, clearly yielding to her the right of first exit. But she didn't go! We ended up both sitting in our running cars for a minute or so until she finally pulled out.

Next week: How to politely pass an 80-year-old woman on the sidewalk when you're riding your bike.

Writer's Block: Officially Ended

Life is funny sometimes. I met a Cleveland person on the boards over at Woxy a few months ago. We actually even met in person when Woxy 2.0 went silent last fall. A month or so ago, it came up that we're both writers. She casually mentioned that her writers' group is looking for new members, and asked me if I'd be interested.

I've never really been part of a writers' group before, but they always sound like a good idea. Like-minded, creative individuals, coming together to improve each others' work and also give encouragement. Plus, if you're in a writers' group, doesn't that automatically make you a real writer? For me, that distinction can be a little fuzzy at times. Along the lines of "If a tree falls in the forest....", if I write but no one ever reads it, does that make me a writer?

I said I'd love to join and sent off a piece for their consideration. My Internet buddy made it clear, in the nicest way possible, that you're not "in" just because you're interested. They have to like your work and you have to mesh with the group's personalities.

So last Wednesday, the group + me gathered at one of the members' houses. I thought it went really well. I spoke some, but hopefully wasn't overbearing on my first time. I handled the criticisms of my piece with dignity, I thought. But even better was hearing them talk about the parts that they liked. They said my writing had style and tone! Who knew?!?

After the meeting, I knew I definitely wanted to be in the group. But I had to wait until yesterday to get the official invitation. I'm in!

Hopefully, joining this writers' group will do for me all the things I've never managed to do on my own. Be motivated, write regularly, actually revise my pieces and submit them places. And think of myself as a real writer.

Post-Race Relaxing

Okay, last post about running for quite some time--I promise.

Saturday morning's race was really good. I was glad that Monica and her younger sister Maya could join us, because Mon and I run about the same (tortoise) pace, and Maya could actually keep up with Keith, so everyone had a pace-appropriate partner! I think everyone was happy with their times--I was happy with the doughnut, smoothie (x2), popcorn, and mini-muffin I had afterwards.

My parents came to cheer us on. This is only the second race we've run in Cleveland, and it was great to have them there. After the race we all wandered around the zoo for a bit, but it was a lot colder out than it looked. If you stood in a patch of sun, and the wind was calm, it was a beautiful day. But as soon as the sun disappeared behind the cloud or a breeze blew, you wanted to head inside to warm up.

So I made it through two races in two weekends, and I believe both my legs are still attached and functioning. If that changes, I'll be sure to let you know. I'm looking forward to sitting around all Saturday afternoon at my sister-in-law's wedding shower this coming weekend. A nice change of pace!

Race Day: Part 2

Now that I'm nearly recuperated from the 10k in Cincinnati last weekend .... we have a 5k race tomorrow morning at the Cleveland Zoo.

Normally, we don't run races on back-to-back weekends. When we plan ahead for the summer, we try to get in one race/month. But we like to do the Flying Pig, and after signing up for that we realized that UMDF Run Wild for a Cure was the following weekend. Because the race benefits mitochondrial disorder research, and my sister has a mitochondrial disorder, we decided to do the race despite the timing.

It wouldn't be so bad, except I decided that I've been slacking on the weight-lifting lately, and really needed to get back on that. I did a lower body work-out Tuesday night .... and have been walking funny ever since. My legs are sooo sore. Much more sore than they were after race day last weekend.

I thought I was getting over it. By this morning, I figured most of the soreness should be gone. So Beckett and I ran a few miles to work out the last of the soreness.

Um yeah, that totally backfired. It's worse than ever! Is it possible my 5k time this weekend will be slower than my 10k last weekend? I guess we'll find out!

Maybe I just need to look at this race as laying the foundation for the rest of the summer. The baseline, as it were. So if it's really, really awful, there's no where to go but up!

Running Playlist

Usually, when I'm running around the neighborhood with the dog, I listen to audiobooks. But for races, good, fast music can be a lot more motivational.

So for the Flying Pig 10k, I took all the audiobook tracks off my MP3 player and put on some of my favorite running songs instead. For no particular reason, I've listed some of the tracks below*:
"Ping One Down", "Hamoa Beach" and "Fill My Cup" (live version) by Gomez
"Seventeen Years" by Ratatat
"I Will Follow You Into the Dark" by Death Cab for Cutie
"Gold Digger" by Kanye West
"She Wants to Move" by N.E.R.D.
"Bullets" by Bob Schneider
"A Peak You Reach" by Badly Drawn Boy
"Pressure Point" by The Zutons
"Flathead" by The Fratellis
"Sons & Daughters" by The Decemberists
"I Love You 'Cause I Have To" by Dogs Die in Hot Cars
"So Says I" by The Shins
"Yeah!" by Usher featuring Lil' John and Ludacris
"The District Sleeps Alone Tonight" by The Postal Service
"Vegas two times" by Stereophonics
"Do You Want To" by Franz Ferdinand
"Hands Open" by Snow Patrol
"World Wide Suicide" by Pearl Jam
"Watch the Girl Destroy Me" by Possum Dixon
"24" by Jem
"Cold Beverage" by G. Love and Special Sauce
"Heavy Metal Drummer" by Wilco
"The Seed (2.0)" by The Roots
"Lady Madonna" by The Beatles
"Super Bon Bon" by Soul Coughing

* All links are to the albums at lala.com.

The Finish Line

Sorry I didn't get a chance to post earlier; I actually had to work at work. Crazy!

Anyway, the races this past weekend went really well. My goal was to finish in under 68 minutes, and I finished in 64:23. I breezed handily up and over the first bridge, and I thought the rest of the race would be just as easy. Of course, I was wrong. I crashed after the first bridge, and the third bridge just before the finish nearly did me in. But I got the time I wanted in the end, and also celebrated with rivers of Coke, a calzone from La Rosa's, and then Chipotle Sunday evening. So all is right with the world!

Keith had a fabulous half-marathon, and Karen pushed past the pain of her heel injury to finish her second marathon in the past year.

So, well done to the Lubbers family! May 4, 2008 will be here before we know it.

Wish me luck!

In less than 24 hours, I'll be a very happy person. But at 8 o'clock in the morning tomorrow, I'll be pretty miserable.

Keith and I are headed down to Cincinnati tonight for the Flying Pig Marathon. I'm running the 10k* event tomorrow morning, and on Sunday morning Keith's running the half-marathon and my mother-in-law Karen is running the whole enchilada.

I'm pretty nervous. I can count on one hand the number of times I ran December through February, and that was usually only to get the door when the pizza delivery guy showed up. So even though I ran a 10k on Thanksgiving, come March it was like starting from scratch.

I think I've done okay in my training. Last week I ran 6.5 miles, which is actually longer than the race, so I know that in theory I should be able to go the distance without tragically expiring or exploding into flames. But Cincinnati has hills. Lots of them. And bridges, which I like to refer to as "my nemesis." The bridges get me every time.

Did you know that large bridges typically go up in the middle, so you spend half your time on the bridge on an incline? I didn't know that ... until I started running over them. Then it became painfully apparent.

But other than the hills, and the bridges, and all those miles ... I should be just fine. Wish me luck! And on Sunday, 6:30am, send your good thoughts to Keith and Karen!

* Quick Running Distance Primer
10k = 6.2 miles
half-marathon = 13.1 miles
whole enchilada = marathon = 26.2 miles.

My Theory on Searching for Lost Items

As I briefly mentioned in an earlier post, I have this theory about looking for lost items. I know you've all been waiting with bated breath, so I'm finally going to elaborate.

Pretty much, my searching theory is a very passive approach. I don't search. Because if something's gone missing, and I search and don't find it, that means it's really gone. But if it's something I can do without for a while, like a necklace ... or the Neosporin ... once I look in one or two places, I'll stop searching.

I'll keep it in the back of my mind and, if I think of another possible location, I'll search there. But I refuse to turn the house/car/office/commute route upside down just to prove that I've really lost something.

I find this technique surprisingly effective. I'd estimate that, 90% of the time, the lost item turns up eventually. And the other 10% of the time, I just forget about it entirely. Which means I didn't really need it anyway. So I think that adds up to a 100% success rate!

For example, a few weeks ago there was that issue with losing the Neosporin. I looked in the most likely spots, and when I didn't find it I gave up. A few days later, Keith pulled open his bedside drawer and viola! Neosporin.

Which also proves that I haven't turned into my parents quite yet.

Is It Really That Hard? 800 Numbers

Not in the same league as the insurance debacle ... but what's the deal with companies whose 800 numbers have more than 7 digits?

I was online today, trying to reserve a campsite at a state park. For help, they suggest you call their 1-800 number: 1-800-OHIO-PARKS. Okay, if you dialed all those letters, you'd end up with two digits too many.

Obviously, some letters must be combined, like the HI in "OHIO" are probably just one keystroke. But why are you making me think about this?

And the actual number, in digits, was nowhere to be found on the website. Anywhere contact information was given, it was always the stupid spelled-out version. So then I'm looking at the phone, trying to figure out all the possible combinations that would give me 7 digits. Ridiculous! That's time better spent at thesuperficial.com or Ken Jenning's blog.

Seriously people. I am perfectly capable of wasting my time on my own--I don't need any help from your cutesy 800 numbers with that.

Words of Wisdom

I was reminded last week of this eternal truth: If you're stopped at a red light, the best way to make it change is to start digging in the depths of your bag for something. I think it follows along the lines of "a watched pot never boils."

Happy Day, Shakes!

I heard on the drive into work this morning that William Shakespeare is believed to have been born and died on April 23. Quite a significant day for the bard!

Some of my favorite Shakespeare plays all revolve around the circumstances in which I saw them. I enjoy "Twelfth Night" because, for a while there, it seemed like my mom and I couldn't escape it. When we wanted to see some Shakespeare in Cleveland, "Twelfth Night" was showing. We went to Stratford-upon-Avon, and you'll never believe what was the current play ...

Last year we went to "Macbeth" at an outdoor staging at Stan Hywet Hall. In London, my parents and I saw "King Lear" at the re-created Globe Theatre on the bank of the Thames.

I've never really gotten into the history plays much--probably because we never read many of them in any of the 2 Shakespeare or various other literature classes I've taken. Maybe if there's one playing this summer, that will change my mind.

icanhascheezburger

Since my last post was insanely long and you'll need a few breaks if you even try to wade through it .... here's today's post:

icanhascheezburger

You will all love this site--especially if you're related to me and have a cat. Of course, the day I post the link, the site is apparently down. But check back next week!

Is It Really That Hard? Insurance

Alright, I'm going to try and keep this succinct, because every time I think about it, I get twitchy.

After my car was stolen and it took the insurance 5 weeks to get the car back to me (keeping in mind that it was recovered after only one), I was fed up. They raised our rates every 6 months, and I didn't feel like I was being treated like a valued customer. So we switched.

Our next-door neighbor recommended his guy. We talked to the guy and got a quote. He seemed nice enough; he even explained that he was salary and didn't make any money off our policies, so anything he recommended would only be in our best interest--not his. Plus the quote was a significant savings from our old insurance company, so we were all set!

There was one thing that bothered me, though. When discussing our rates, he made a point to remind us of all the things that could be counted against us when looking for new rates. They included:

• My car being stolen
• Keith getting hit (through no fault of his own)
• Me getting into a fender-bender (through some fault of my own) over 4 years ago

He told us that NONE of these things should technically count against us when getting insurance. Insurance companies are legally required to ignore things that aren't your fault and accidents that are over 3 years old. But, he warned us, they'll consider it anyway.

Ummm, okay. Why tell me that? What the hell am I supposed to do about it?!? It just makes me feel helpless before The Man.

But we signed with him anyway, because it really was a great rate ..... then, a week later, we get the bill. And it's for $300 higher than what he'd quoted me.

I emailed him and asked what was going on. He said I was probably confused because the bill was for auto and home. I wasn't--the auto alone was $300 above the quote. He ignored me for a few days, then finally emailed back that there'd been a "miscommunication" about the quote ... but the good news is that we were still saving $133 from our old insurance.

I'm getting seriously pissed. I don't want to save $133. I want to save the $433 you promised me when I chose your insurance company. I say I don't think the client should be responsible for bearing the entire burden of his mistake, and ask him what he's going to do to fix it.

He goes on vacation for a week.

He got back on Tuesday. We needed to mail in our premium by today to make sure it wasn't late. I emailed him Tuesday morning and laid it all out: It's your mistake, your company should make up the difference between the quote and the actual cost. I understand it's a one-time deal, and our insurance would go up to the norm next time, but you should honor your quote.

I don't hear back. I email again Wednesday morning. And then I call and leave a message with both my work phone and cell phone.

8:30 Thursday morning, I call and leave another message with my contact numbers. Keep in mind--I'm calling his cell phone.

10:30 Thursday morning, I call his assistant and explain he's MIA, I want this resolved, and can she please give me the name and number of his supervisor so if I haven't heard back from him by the end of the day, I'll work my way up the chain of command.

I don't want to be doing this. I hate wasting my time and energy correcting other people's mistakes. In this instance--the insurance guy's mistake that he wasn't owning up to. But just because he was avoiding me, I wasn't going to just give up and pay him the money. What other choices did I have?

His assistant refuses to give me his supervisor's name--she says she doesn't know who that would be. But he's in today--she'll transfer me to his office number.

I leave yet another vaguely threatening message with my contact numbers.

An hour later ... Keith calls. The insurance guy CALLED KEITH. That's the lengths to which he'll go to avoid me. He told Keith his hands are tied--the company won't pay us the difference. But he magnanimously offered to send us the $50 commission he was making on our insurance, to make things right.

Keith pointed out to me that he'd originally told us he's solely salary--not commission-based at all. So where's this $50 coming from?

And that's how it ends. We have to pay the $300 above the quote, and he's giving us the commission he wasn't really making. And he refuses to talk to me. Would you have handled it any differently?

Work Wardrobe

Beckett and I ran this morning before work. Unfortunately, because Cleveland is apparently unaware late April should be Spring, I had to wear my winter tights, warm top, and vest.

When I got home and went to get in the shower, I couldn't get the vest unzipped. Partway down, it stuck. It wouldn't go up or down. In the few seconds before I got it unzipped, several different scenarios went through my head.

What all were my options?

• Go to work wearing the stinky grey running shirt and hot pink vest, complete with venting in the back (like a see-through top!)
• Call in sick and stay home because I couldn't get the vest off.

Suddenly I pictured myself wearing the vest at all times. Taking showers in it. Wearing it over work clothes, casual clothes, evening wear. At Keith's sister's wedding. Over my bathing suit (interesting tan lines).

But then the zipper came free, and the vest came off. Anyone expecting to stand within a few feet of me should feel grateful.

What's My Time Worth?

I complain a lot about people and modern society. I hate waiting in lines. I hate dealing with the random public. I like peace and quiet.

I also rant often and at a loud volume about not having enough time. I value my time very highly, which is part of the reason why I hate waiting so much. That time was already allocated to something I'd rather be doing.

So, amid all this self-pity, I discovered yesterday that my time does have a price tag after all. And it's the cost of one Chipotle burrito.

Keith went to Chipotle on Saturday, and discovered that, as a tax-day gimmick, if you bought a burrito on Saturday or Sunday, you could come back on Monday with your receipt and get a free one. Perfect!

When we got to Chipotle, the line was all the way back to the door. And yet, not getting into line didn't even cross our minds. It was a free burrito! So we stood patiently in line. So patiently, in fact, that I couldn't even tell you how long we were there for. 15 minutes, maybe?

All I know is that we got a free burrito. And a free side of guac because the workers were too busy and forgot to charge us for it. Time well spent.

The Office: 4/12 Recap

Michael: Pam, depression is as scary as a baler, right?
Pam: I don't understand the question.
Michael: Working in an office can lead to depression, which can lead to suicide. I mean, this is really serious stuff.... Nobody commits suicide because they work with a baler [....]
Pam: It's really hard to demonstrate depression. Their safety training had visuals.

Dwight: I'm temporarily lifting the shun.
Andy: Thank you.
Dwight: It means nothing. I need you to do something for me.
Andy: Anything.
Dwight: Okay, calm down! I need you to acquire an inflatable house, and/or castle.
Andy: You mean a moonbounce.
Dwight: Whatever you think. You have an hour.
Andy: I'm going to need petty cash.
Dwight: Shunning resumed. (raising right hand to indicate raising a screen.)
Andy: Do you want a drawbridge?
Dwight: (lowering right hand) Unshun.... Yeah, that sounds good. (raising right hand) Re-shun.

Daryl: Mike, you're a very brave man. I mean, it takes courage just to be you. To get out of bed every ... single ... day, knowing full well that you gotta be you.
Michael: Do you really mean that?
Daryl: I couldn't do it! I ain't that strong, and I ain't that brave.

You Say Tomato

I found another way in which Keith and I are opposites.

It happened on Saturday; we were running errands, so we went into several stores in a short time period. At the first store, I paid with my credit card. At the second store, he paid with his plastic.

I couldn't help but notice how quickly he swiped his card through the card reader. "Wow," I exclaimed intelligently. "You're a fast swiper! Aren't you afraid the card reader isn't going to recognize your card?"

Keith stared at me. "No," he said. "But I did notice that you swipe very slowly." Which is true; I want to give the machine plenty of time to collect all of the information it needs.

So there you have it--just another example of how opposites really do attract.

A Good Listener

On Monday night, Keith, Mon, and I went to the Bob Schneider concert at the Beachland Ballroom. This is the third time Keith and I have seen Bob perform, and it's always a great show.

I mean, it's pretty much as low-tech as you can get. So it's not a "Show" with pyrotechnics and fancy lights, etc. But he always engages the audience, and talks between songs. He, personally, is funny and entertaining. This time, he went around the room and let people pick out which song they wanted to hear. That was the majority of the concert. How cool is that?

We got there early enough that we had a table off to the left-hand side. The Ballroom has very high ceilings, and I was cold for most of the night. Not shivering, just slightly chilled. I did eventually take my coat off, but I left on my scarf and either had my hands in my pockets or my arms crossed.

As blogged about previously, when the singer/band can actually see me in the audience, I'm a little lost. I don't really know how to act. I just go to see--not to be seen.

This time, I knew that he could see me because when he pointed to our table for a request, I asked for "Bullets" and he played it. So for most of the show, I felt guilty whenever I had my arms crossed. Because in Communications 101, you're taught basic body language, and that someone who has their arms folded across their chest is closed off and not listening.

But what if she is listening, and she's just cold? Can't she still be enjoying the concert? I'd like to think that, if Bob ever looked my way during the rest of the concert, he knew I was a good--if chilled--listener.

Pursuit of Happiness

I feel like I've been hearing a lot about happiness lately. About how we as a society are obsessed with it, and the pursuit of it. How we haven't achieved it.

"The Pursuit of Happiness in Perspective" by Darrin McMahon puts "the pursuit of happiness" into a historical perspective. I found it's conclusion interesting--that you can only find happiness when that's not your main goal, you're actually working towards something else.

Similarly, "The Science of Lasting Happiness" by Marina Krakovsky suggests that no matter how much we achieve/earn/do, happiness will always seem just out of reach because we adapt to our current state.

So what does this mean for me, personally? I think that I have fallen into the trap of chasing happiness. Feeling that there must always be something out there that will make my life complete. Trying to do more and see more to finally be enough.

According to answers.com, the definition of content is " Desiring no more than what one has; satisfied." I think, in the future, I'll try to focus more on being content than being happy. The competitor in me instantly smells the reek of defeat, in giving up the race. But I prefer to think that I'd be joining a kinder, gentler competition. The kind you were in as a kid, where everyone gets a ribbon just for competing, and everyone feels better for it.

I'll take two!

I got some really good presents this year for my birthday. Keith got me a fabulous scanner, that I can't wait to use for scrapbooking, etc. I also got CDs and a Margaret Atwood book and the gift that keeps on giving--a Borders gift card.

However, in case I couldn't figure it out on my own, I have a surefire way of telling that I got great gifts: my sisters bought them for themselves, too. Amy gave me a really cool deck prism. It's a glass prism that's meant to sit flush with a wooden ship's deck, and distribute the light below deck. It's quirky, elegant, and useful! I love it. As I was exclaiming over it last night, Amy admitted she couldn't resist buying one for herself.

Erin got me some cute clothes for work. Dark grey pants, light turquoise shirt, and a scarf with both colors in it, among others. I'm very excited to have new clothes for work instead of the same old. Erin said I could return the clothes if I wanted to ... but she did try them on and they looked fabulous. Her pants are brown, but the shirt's the same.

I think that's one of the highest compliments a present can get, if the giver wants one for herself too. They really are fabulous gifts, and I think we'll all enjoy them. As long as Keith didn't secretly buy himself a second scanner!

Must holidays always be happy?

According to answers.com, today is a traditional Chinese holiday roughly translated as Grave Sweeping Day. It's a beautiful Spring day, you get outside to enjoy the fresh air, and also to clean off the graves of your beloved, respected, deceased ancestors.

Of course, I think the concept loses some of its hopefulness on a snowy, cold, windy day like today. Especially when it was 70 degrees a mere 48 hours ago. If it were a nice day, one could contemplate death as a part of life and the cycles of nature, while surrounded by the renewal of life that comes with spring.

If I were to go to a graveyard today, however, I would not see the affirmation of life. No birds would be chirping, and any early spring flowers would be bowed under the weight of snow. Maybe in China they can commit to an outdoor holiday early in Spring. Around here, even Memorial Day can be iffy.

Doppelganger

Through a typo, a slip of the left ring finger, I have found my blog Doppelganger.

And it frightens me in so, so many ways.

Behold: arightgapesnest.blogPSot.com

Happy Birthday, Self!

Happy Birthday to me!

Maybe, if I'm lucky, when I get home from work tonight Keith will have a cake waiting for me. Complete with two arms and a happy, happy face for me to eat. Fingers crossed!

I hope everyone enjoys my birthday, even without an animated pink cake.