Friday, January 29, 2010

Once upon a time. . .

There was a girl. She was ready for a change in her life, so she took a job for which she was totally unqualified. When she got to her new job, she met her #1 coworker: The Penguin. One cranky woman that Penguin. No love loss there. Within a year of the new job, the building was under construction.

The girl, knowing a little about what happens when there is no oversight on big projects, kept her eye on things as her part of the building was modified. Luckily when the contractors started to lower the ceilings from 14 feet to 8, she begged and pleaded and they left them tall.

BUT when she saw that a WINDOW, A FREAKING WINDOW was going to go in between her new office and the penguin, she no, please, please no. But she was told it was too late. The parts had been ordered. So, the window went in. It didn't open. It was just a window between two offices of people who really and truly did not get along.

So, the girl quickly got to work and had a cork board made to cover the window. It was a great cork board. For many years she added to the papers that hung on it. See the cork board below.

Eventually, the Penguin left. But she was replace by Scooby Doo. Yeah, he was fairly harmless, but he was also a total idiot. She could barely stand to look at him, let alone talk to him, so the board remained.

But theeeennnn, she met Blondie. It was love. Blondie was super cool. Fun, interesting, entertaining; basically everything you could want in a team mate.

So, The Diva mentioned to Blondie that there was actually a window between the two offices. Blondie got a gleam in her eyes and agreed that a window would be a GREAT Thing. So, arrangements were made to take the bulletin board down. The glass remained, but they had high hopes that they would be able to sweet talk the building engineer into helping them get a sliding glass window for between their offices.

But then they decided that they really couldn't wait. They had fun calling each other and being on speakerphone, and it kind of made it seem like they were in the same room. However, it just wasn't enough. They wanted more. So they sweet talked some more. . . and the glass came down. . . SAY HI TO BLONDIE the rockinest office mate in the world!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Today was our first day without glass. We agree that it was a GOOD day, much better than before. Things are looking up I tell you : )

Indications of total mind melting

Last night coming in the house Buddy tried to escape, so as I was grabbing his leg to keep him from escaping. While I was doing that my purse fell. So, I finally get us all inside.

This morning I can't find my keys. Anywhere. Any guesses? Yeah, they were still in the front door.

Sabrina is still being difficult about the doggie door. I'm quite busy fretting about what is wrong with her. In the course of fretting this morning, I totally forgot to feed the dogs. As I type, they are probably eating a pillow in protest.

I have other examples but I can't remember them because I'm LOSING MY MIND.

I'm certain I'll miss all of you when the mind totally goes, but since I won't remember you I think it will be ok.

Monday, January 25, 2010

How you know you are busy

You know you are ass kicking busy, when a coworker walks in your room and says, "Hey, what are you still doing here? I thought you had to take the dogs to the vet."

"I do, but it is after school."

"It is after school."

"What?!?!" Quick look at clock, sure enough 4:50.

"SHIT," I yell dramatically before grabbing my purse and hauling out of the room.

Probably should have missed the appointment. Damn dogs cost me $500 for annual, and Buddies gonna cost another $500 for dental. Shoosh Cha Cha I know your bills are way higher, I'm still traumatized. ; )

Friday, January 22, 2010

Today was a traumatic day

*** Totally inappropriate for young children, the squeamish and men. There, consider yourself warned.

Today was traumatic not just because I started the day hurling, surely that alone is enough to qualify as traumatic, but more importantly because today was the day I went to my new lady doctor. . . I have had the same doctor as long as I have been going. One. Doctor. Only. I have tried to limit the people that have visited my girl bits. One doctor. 20 some odd years. Yes, it was a woman, and yes, this one is a woman, but still. The whole thing is awkward. Getting to know someone new and trying to act blase about some stranger being down in private town.

Now I tried to get sympathy from the BFF but as it turns out if your husband is in the military, there are a parade of people who have seen your girl bits through the years and therefore you are unable to be truly sympathetic to the trauma of a NEW Girl doctor.

She was a very nice lady. I think she might be Persian which did cause a little bit of confusion. She asked me if I smoked (in my defense I was distracted because she had begun the exam process). I told her yes, I did drink milk. I needed her to repeat things a couple of times which might have given her the idea that at the ripe old age of almost 40 I am clearly going deaf.

In fact she made a comment about almost being 40 and then said, "Oh, I know, I am almost 38." It would have been wrong to punch my new girl doctor right?

Some of you know that I have had migraines since I started teaching (that corollary is a whole nother post.) Early on I was given a drug called Fiortal for the migraines. Works great. I have taken it for years. So, I then began working on getting my lady doctor to prescribe. She was ALWAYS reticent. She used to give me 10 at a time. That alone usually gave me a migraine just thinking about how few I had. Apparently it is a controlled substance, so she was all nervous about it. So, almost 16 years later, I finally had gotten her to relax and prescribe 50 at a time. . . for a year. It was great. New doctor. . .that's right. . . I have to start all over convincing her I am not abusing them and I'm not a druggie.

She asked me if I gone to a neurologist. My response was why would I do that when I had found something that worked. She asked if I knew when I got them, and she appeared impressed that I told her I had 5 triggers and when I hit 3 of the 5 I would get a migraine. She then gave me the perscription, just for 20, better than nothing I say.

Then she asked me about birth control, if I was tied to pills (which are really nice because I know when NOT to wear the white clothing if you know what I mean.) Apparently as we get REALLY REALLY old we have to be careful of the amount of hormones we add to our bodies. She suggested the Nuvaring. Please feel free to peruse the website and contemplate the questions you might have. I know I am slightly taken aback by how this is going to work exactly. It apparently can be placed inside the body and removed every three months. No period for 3 months at a time. Small pause, then, "Unless you like getting your period."

"Uh, that would be a no ghost rider."

I asked if it was fairly idiot proof . . . she said yes. I have my doubts. She gave me a sample with instructions to keep it in the fridge until I use it. . . Umm, where would that go? With the eggs? Cheese drawer? Next to soft drinks? And good Lord, won't that thing be cold when it's time to be a using it? I'd be happy to let you know when it is time, but that may qualify as WAAAYYYYYY too TMI (while clearly this post is just slightly TMI).

And that was my visit to my new lady doctor.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

A stolen post

ChaCha has been reading Vanity Fair's Proust Questionnaire. It's a collection of all the questionnaires that appear on the last page of the magazine. She snagged it cause she thought was interesting. "The questionnaire is a late-19th century parlor game, and the book is all sorts of famous folks' answers. Some of them are hilarious, some overwrought, others just the right amount of thoughtful."

So, I'm doing it too and suggesting you steal from me . . .

What is your idea of perfect happiness?
Slurpee in one hand, holding the hand of Mr. Potential with the other, by water. . . yup. Sounds good to me.

What is your greatest fear?
Someone I love dying without me having said I love you first.

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
Quick,quick temper.

What is the trait you most deplore in others?
Ingratitude. - Cha Cha said this, but I second it, so I'm leaving it.

What is your favorite journey?
I love going on the senior class trip each year to Europe. The kids are always fun, happy and so excited to be embarking on the next part of their journey through life that their happiness is contagious.

On what occasion do you lie?
I work very hard to not lie ever. I will sit silently or divert the conversation if humanly possible. I won't lie to protect myself, but I will evade the truth to protect someone's feelings.

Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
Oh, my, Whiskey Tango Foxtrot (you figure out what that stands for . . .) Chitlins,

Which living person do you most despise?
No one, although I have quite a list of people that annoy the ever loving shit out of me.

What is your greatest regret?
The times I didn't say the really hard stuff that needed to be said but no one ever wants to say because people don't always want to hear the truth even when it needs to be said and heard.

Which talent would you most like to have?
The ability to make people feel at peace just being around me. You know people like that right? You just feel better after being with that person. I wish I had that talent.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
Worrier. I worry about everything. I'm pretty certain its an inherited thing, and I don't think most people even know, but nevertheless, I worry. A lot.

What is it that you most dislike?
roaches. eeeekkkkk, pumping gas,

What is your most treasured possession?
I can tell the story behind almost every thing in my house. From whom it came, when I got it etc. So, stuff has meaning for me, I'm not sure I could choose.

What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
Grief. What about Hate? Such misery to be filled with hate. . .

What is your most marked characteristic?
I have no idea. Right now the kids might say high standards with a side of demanding, but that is because we are working like dogs to finish the yearbook. . . never quitting? Honesty.

What is the quality you most like in a man?
Integrity ... and a sense of humor. Cha Cha nailed it again. Honesty, loyalty, intelligence

What is the quality you most like in a woman?
same as above.

What do you most value in your friends?
Honesty. My friends keep me on track and focused on what's important in life.

How would you like to die?
Quickly, unaware if possible

What is your motto?
Live your life in such a way so that when your feet hit the floor in the morning Satan says, "Oh, Shit, she's awake."

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Pooh Bear and such

A few years ago someone gave me a Winnie-the-Pooh calendar. It came with stickers, such as "a Busy Day" and "a Lazy Day", "a Cleaning Day" and "a Hummy Day." Then there are the times when you need a smackeral of something, and times when you are feeling like a bear of very little brain. I'm thinking of making my twitter updates a la Pooh Bear.

He likes to keep things under 140 characters. For instance,"It is more fun to talk with someone who doesn't use long difficult words but rather short, easy words like "What about lunch?"

I've also contemplated having a sign at the front of the classroom. A warning, of sorts, to the children. "A Cranky Day" or "Pls don't ask stupid questions" day (Oh, please, yes, there are stupid questions.) I'm not sure if my precious darlings would choose to pay attention to the sign though. They have a tendency to just push onward ignoring all signs of warning.

I thought today would be a So-So day, but I looked at my calendar and realized, no, it will be a Busy Day. Sigh. Busy days are tricky. Because not only do I have a lot on MY list to do, but they usually come with the children asking many, many questions and having many needs to be met. By the end of Busy Days I am usually quite exhausted and ready for a Sleepy Night. I already looked around the room and realized today is also going to be a Cleaning Day. The place is a mess, and I usually have to stand over them all day barking commands to get them to clean properly. This is where I add the snide remark about children raised with maids comes in 'cause I'm telling you, some of these kids do NOT know how to clean.

In addition, I am trying to get things done around the room that require others. So my friend, Daisy is going to come by to help with the computers (I hope) and my Building Engineer friend is going to send some one to help me rearrange stuff on the walls so that the big window between Blondie and I is visible. (This is a very long story in and of itself, and it is worth of its own post which it shall get, just not today.)

Tomorrow Mr. Potential comes back, so I feel confident it will be a Hummy Day with Excitement on the side. I will try to not let it become a so busy that the Diva is very Cranky Day. Of course, if I am feeling out of sorts it might just be that I am feeling a little Eleven O'Clockish and it is time for a some honey . . . and afterwards I will feel much better and happy Diva like.

So, today will be a Busy Day, not a Doing Nothing day. And tomorrow is sure to be a Hummy Day and so is Friday now that I think about it. How is your day looking?

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Proof God has a sense of humor

I mentioned staying with my parents involved the TV playing at high volume. Always. I didn't mention that it usually had Fox news on from 4-11. Seriously. My dad loves that shit. He watches all the time. I hate Fox news. Mostly because I can't stand the talking, talking, talking. I might add that if my dad had loved watching CNN from 4-11 I would hate CNN. At any rate,

Mr. Potential? Yeah, he loves Fox news. So after dinner the other night, back to his house to watch a little Glenn Beck and Bill O'Reilly. It wasn't horrible. Mostly because I fell asleep. I'm really grateful that he limits himself pretty much to those two shows. I also think God is laughing. at me. a lot.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Feeling a wager coming on . . . ,

So, things are progressing nicely with Mr. Potential. He kicks ass. We are 3 weeks in and things are quite delightful. He's out of town for the next week, so I am feeling very confident that I can make a month. But let's be honest, long term relationships are not exactly my strong suit. And by long term I mean more than a couple of weeks, so clearly, we are all thinking that I should screw this up some time soon. Of course, Valentine's Day and my bday are coming up, so I'm totally going to be on my best behavior for the next couple of weeks. On the other hand, once I get the itch to run, I tend to run no matter what's coming up. Lord knows there are many avenues by which this could go up in flames. So, since I know you are already trying to figure out how this is going to crash and burn, here are the best bets in no particular order.

1. Sabrina and Buddy. He has met them, but they have not spent time together. As in, "Yes, those are big badly behaved dogs, now let's go to dinner." Although I have already put it out there that if the dogs are a deal breaker, he should tell me now rather than later because we are, as they say, a package deal, he says he doesn't think that they are that bad. HA. Perhaps I need to arrange a little quality time for them to be together.

2. Weird things don't happen to him. And I, as you know, am not normal. Most of my life is lived in chaos. Somewhat controlled chaos, but still chaos. Things go wrong. Often. Yesterday, I looked down and realized I was wearing navy hose. . . with a black skirt. The black skirt it turns out was missing a button, so that meant that the zipper kept falling down. (I actually can't swear to that corollary, but it's my blog, so that's my story.) I'm pretty sure these types of things don't happen to him. Well, sure, partly because I'm hoping he refrains from wearing hose and skirts, but also because I just don't think these things happen to him.

Earlier this week I arrived at school and started spazzing. I was missing my keys to the building and a deposit bag full of money. I was FREAKING. By the middle of the day we had found the bag of money (sitting by a computer, but I am telling you I didn't move it, damn thing grew legs and walked.) One of the editors thought it would be in the pocket of the coat I had worn the day before. I was so freaked I sent another editor to check. Sure enough, they were there. (The editor that went to the house went ahead and picked up the knife the dogs were eating and put it on the counter.) When I got home that afternoon I realized that she hadn't given me my keys back. Sigh. That was a whole nother messaroonie.)

3. He is neat and orderly. His house (did I mention how cute his house is? He had it built, and he has taste!) is clean. Always. Everything has a place. My house? Not so much. I'm pretty certain if he spent any length of time at my house he would break out in hives. Of course, I don't want to spend any time at my house currently because it is FREEZING since I can't actually afford heat. He can afford heat. Which of course leads me to

4. He has money. As in, he knows how to count and he saves money and spends wisely. As in he will probably flip his shit when he realizes he is dating a total numnut with no ability to count and a nice little debt she'll be paying off for quite some time.

5. He is a rational, concrete, sequential, logical guy. I, as you know, am not. See 2. Weird stuff happens to me. Rational, concrete, sequential, logical guys don't tend to know what to do with a girl that has such weird shit happen all. the. time.

6. He is totally gregarious and enjoys people. I have discovered that as the years go by, I don't like people. They annoy the hell out of me. On the up side, this allows me to primarily sit quietly and allow the noise and voices to flow around me without actually contributing that much, but long term, could be a train wreck. He likes everyone. Everyone likes him. He might actually want someone who is a little more chatty Cathy with strangers and such. I just don't have that kind of energy anymore.

7. Freaky Diva raises her head and I spaz about something totally stupid and minor and walk away (scratch that RUN) so that I don't get my heart crushed later. . . yeah, this one has my money.

Senior Pranks

I almost don't dare write this post because we KNOW what happened when I twittered something I wasn't supposed to twitter, but I haven't historically learned my lessons quickly, no need to rush into it here either.

So, there are a gazillion cameras going up in the building. None of them are connected yet, and quite honestly, some of them are in weird places (like two cameras facing the same direction and no camera at one of the entrances.) Our StuCo pres was reading announcements Monday when he threw in an impromptu "Get those senior pranks out of the way before the cameras go live." Yeah, bit of a rocket scientist that boy.

So, today while the pep rally was going on, someone set 3 pot belly pigs loose in the building. Poor little critters were scared to death. Pooping everywhere. The administrators were NOT pleased.

On one hand, why do these kids have to come up with pranks that are mean to animals? On the other hand, the admin probably over reacted. By the end of the day the kids had spread a rumor that one of the assistant principals had beaten a piglet to death. Seriously. Are they kidding? As if the piglet did anything. More likely a child was in danger of a fatal beating.

I texted Mr. Potential during the day.
Me: Someone let 3 pot belly pigs out in the school. Gonna be a long day.
Mr. P: Are they greased up?

Yeah, I've got it bad for a hillbilly.

Back to the prank. There are rules of pranks and I don't understand why our dingbat kids can't understand them. Pranks shouldn't cost the school money or damage property. Pranks shouldn't require the janitors to clean up gross stuff (ie pig poop). And they shouldn't involve abusing animals or people.

The prank when they glued all of the door locks? Bad. Cost money. Total pain.

Prank that involved signs on EVERY CLASSROOM door saying go to the library. Funny.

Prank that involved stealing the "Read" posters from the library with a ransom note? Totally funny. Still haven't figured out how they got them down. Posters reappeared a week later, no damage. Totally classic.

Prank where they put fish on the roof of the building to rot stinking up the place and forcing the janitors to get up there and try to clean it up? Totally crappy.

Friday, January 8, 2010

I'll take that with a side of bitchy

Last night, I went over to Mr. Potentials to watch the BCS football game with him and his friends. I started out ok, but I could feel myself getting a wee bit, well, catty. Sure, I had a grapefruit juice and some thing or another, but I still kept the catty thoughts inside (hooray for me, using the inside voice.)

I did at one point note to Mr. Potential that I was feeling catty but keeping it in. For instance, the girlfriend of one friend really likes to show her girls, if you know what I mean. Another girl was very proud of her boyfriend (10yrs older) covered in tattoos managing a bar/pizza joint but still getting recommended by the people at The Mansion. Really? The whole conversation just made me tired. . .

I could feel myself getting cattier as the evening progressed.

This morning? I was crampy and realized that it was Dia de Mensa. Seriously, I was like "Oh, thank God, I'm not a total bitch, I'm hormonal." Well, let's be honest, I got de bitch in me but I try not to let her out with people I've just met.

I'm sorry, how much football will I be watching???

I have managed, quite adeptly I might add, through the years to not date guys that are in to sports. It helps that I haven't dated most of them more than twice, so although they might have loved sports, they did not enter my sphere of consciousness. It has worked out nicely.

It seems, as they say, the tide has turned. Cause Mr. Potential, he loves him some football. Really. A. Lot. In the two weeks I have known him, I have watched 4 football games. FOUR.

On the upside, I have totally impressed the BFF with my stunning array of football knowledge and trivia in the last two weeks. She has informed me that I may be Biscuits (young son's) pole position favorite aunt with my new found ability to discuss all things football.

Mr. Potential looked at me sweetly last night and said, "You only have four more games this season, well, maybe a couple more, but we're almost done." It's nice that he recognizes this is not my usual MO. And, it gives me time to get some reading in.

All I really have to do is look up occasionally and say, "Oh, my" or "Good grief" or "Wow, look at that" the key is to make the right comment at the right time. And it turns out, if I manage to time it just right with the right look of enthusiasm, he gives me a proud smile and a kiss. (Who says we don't all operate on the treat system?!)

Someone suggested making a game out of it, you know, when your team scores, the other person has to kiss you, that kind of thing . . . please, God, let the Cowboys game Saturday night be high scoring . . ; )

Mixing up the workout

You've heard about the importance of changing things up so that your body doesn't get tired of the same old thing, right?

Ladies and gentlemen, I have taken this to a WHOLE. NEW. LEVEL. So, I moved into the new abode and decided that I really was going to have to find a place to work out. I need to be getting exercise. The last time I joined a gym I went all of twice in a year. It was not convenient enough. I cannot over emphasize the importance of convenience in getting my ass to the gym.

So, I managed to find a gym right by my house. See, right by my house. I walk there.
How could I resist??? AND it is an all girls gym. NO BOYS. Who doesn't love that? AND it is fun and different. By fun and different, I mean, I can't really tell anyone because it is embarrassing. . . It's called The Girls Room. . . and it teaches Pole Dancing.

First, it does NOT look like a strip club. It looks something like this. . . only we mostly look a lot more awkward. Almost like a ballet studio, but with vertical ballet bars.
Sure, I'd love to look like a gymnast. . . but I look more like a spastic second grader on the play ground. They are really big on not comparing oneself to anyone else and the instructors are all about everyone having fun and not being too serious,
which is good, because sometimes, it just isn't pretty. (please, please, click on the link. It is one of the funniest videos ever.)

Mostly it is wives and girls just wanting to have some fun and do something different. I'm pretty sure there is at least 1 girl that is secretly excited about the idea of knowing how to pole dance ($50 says if you get her drunk and leave her near a stop sign she'll make an ass of herself within minutes) but everyone else, pretty normal.

At any rate, I have to tell you I have renewed respect for our sisters the strippers. That is some hard work. Not the stripping part, all the rest of it.

We do yoga and push-ups and "core" exercises for most of the class and then we work on the pole stuff. It is hard. My arms are usually about to fall off at the end of an evening. The ends of my hair have been known to hurt because EVERYTHING is in pain.

BUT I am getting stronger. I can tell. I can't do a full push-up yet (hey, I'm a wimp, I know it) but, I can stay in "plank" position (yoga term) without collapse in a heap on the floor, well, mostly. So, I hope if I keep going, that I will continue to get stronger and smooth out some of the rumples. Ya know?

So, that is my new workout routine. There I said it.

Saturday, January 2, 2010

Please note: this was actually written on Wednesday. I've just been a little busy and possibly distracted.

What is it about New Year's Eve that makes us so reflective? Why aren't we more reflective on our birthdays? (with an ugly one approaching, I'm certain to be more reflective this year than most.)

What about Easter? For those that go to church, this should be a biggie. The Easter resolution has to be one worthy of someone dying for our sins. Those would be serious resolutions, none of these wimpy, gonna lose weight and find a man bullshit.

As a teacher, August is always a good time to reflect on how I want this school year to be different from any other. I will be calmer, more organized, etc, etc, etc. I will stretch the kids more. I will use technology more.

But here I sit, New Year's Eve watching my comforter circle about as I hang at Soapy's, my local Laundromat, thinking about what I want for 2010. Obviously this list includes bedding that doesn't smell like dog. I'd probably be closer to achieving this one if I actually kept the dogs off the bed, but then what fun is that??

I look back, and I think I have to ask myself if I am getting closer to enlightenment and becoming the person I want to be or not? Hard to tell sometimes.

If I were to be succinct, I would say I resolve to be the person God wants me to be in every area of my life, but I think we all know I'm more verbal than that.

I think I have been amazingly lucky in my lifetime in friendships. Friends are the family we choose. I am surrounded by people that support me and help me be a better person. My goal is to be the friend that all of these people have been to me.

Family. Oh, what can I say? The beginning and end of so many insecurities, fears, pain and hurt. They can raise me up and bring me crashing down. We each have our own M.O. for handling the family dynamics and entangling webs. Refusal to engage in the family dynamic but throwing oneself into the woes and lives of people never met? We've got that. A true Scarlett O'Hara, refusing to acknowledge and face problems? Forcing others to swallow whole whatever is eating them up? We've got that too. Total indifference and minimal communication with the family? check, check. This is an area I could make several resolutions, but it is a dangerous minefield. Perhaps turning 40 and dealing with family dynamics is a mistake. This one might hold.

Romance. Well, hmmm. It's been quite a year in that category. Who knew that I'd hit my stride this late in the game? I've gotten to meet all types. I've gotten to face the truth that "never married" doesn't mean "no luggage." I let one man screw me up and leave me with way more baggage than I should have. But, I've also gotten closer to knowing I'm OK with me. By myself or with someone else, I'm OK.

To be honest, I'm still excited that a week before New Year's Eve, I met a guy, with Potential. Smart, funny, thinks I'm sexy, makes me feel special, cooks for me and a really good guy. Will it go somewhere? I hope so. I also hope my super freaky, don't want to lose control insecure self doesn't jump ship and run. Cause I think that side is at war with the side that knows she deserves a really great guy. On the other hand, dating has provided much of the fodder for this blog. Not sure how entertaining I'll be if I get into a boring relationship...screw it, you people are on your own ; )

Reduction of inventory: (That's what my friend, Pam, used to call it when she got rid of stuff. I'd like to add that frequently involved bringing stuff to me to inherit.) Selling my house made me sad, no doubt about it. Mostly because it was a true home with neighbors I loved, and it just made me happy. But selling the house, well, it was also freeing. As I look around at the "stuff" I have collected through the years, I am realizing it is time to for me to start letting go. I am taking advantage of the wonders of the Internet and my friend, Craig to sell as much as I can. I'll have an old fashioned garage sale in the spring.

This place is small so I have to make hard choices about what is important in my life and what isn't (at least "stuff" wise) I'm starting to really dig letting go. I hope 2010 leaves me a leaner more streamlined Diva.

The Temple (aka the body people). As you might have surmised, I'm unable to look beyond the big bday especially as I begin to deal with doctors visits, and the pains and aches that seem to come with getting older. I made some big decisions a few years ago based on my desire to change my way of life as I approach middle age. I don't regret any of my choices. Losing the gall bladder did more to straighten up my eating choices than any decisions I made (something about not being able to eat FAT without suffering terribly does that), but even with the problems, that's worked out nicely. I suggest gall bladder removal for everyone, but word on the street is that it doesn't always work as a diet method. Lots of people have cooperatives livers that take over immediately and happily all gall bladder duties.

I began working out a month ago, and I'm pretty sure if it doesn't kill me, it will make me stronger and put me in better shape than I've been in my entire life. I'll have to have a special blog post on that. It's walking distance from house, so that should help tremendously on the stick with it front.

Finances. Damn them. They always make the list. Selling the house put me on the right path and took a huge amount of stress and pressure off of me. I've streamlined, made some changes and, if I can stay focused, I'll move much closer to being debt free.

Well, now I'm watching the comforter circle in the dryer. I hope 2010 brings good things for me and you. All five of you. . . hahahahahah