Filling you in

Yesterday was the kind of day where I didn’t really stop going until ten at night. Work was hectic and when I got home, we ran errands, then made dinner and then I went out with a friend. Finally, at 10:15, I got into my pajamas and watched Real World/Road Rules Challenge.

This week has taken a lot out of me.

I always consider family visiting to be fun coupled with stressful and annoying. Those last two are in slightly smaller percentages; fun and enjoyable are the main things. It should never b stressful having your own family staying at your house but it is. I want to make sure that they are always comfortable and never put out; I also don’t want the house to become a disaster area but it always does. We put things wherever, we buy more food and more stuff and we make the house more lived in than it already is. And when they leave – in those first five minutes of silence once it’s just the three of us again – I breathe a sigh of relief before sweeping the floors and putting my home back together. My parents were here all weekend and then I had a difficult time recovering from that.

I was happy to be back at work though, back to the routine. I am a sucker for routines and I live by the conventions I have made. This week is proving to be busier than I could have imagined and it’s beginning to eat at my brain. There are no words for how I feel but a simple !!!!! will suffice.

Last night, I said goodbye to a friend of mine who is moving to Utah. I know what I’m getting into, befriending grad students who are, at best, transient. It doesn’t make it any easier getting to know people and then having them leave to pursue their careers and degrees elsewhere. I have to say – without being mushy – she was the kind of person with whom I could share things I normally wouldn’t. I haven’t had too many friends in the last 5-8 years of my life who were that easy to talk to. (Not counting internet friends because the anonymity or the barrier of the glowing screen really helps). But with the advent of Facebook and Twitter, you can really keep in touch with people so much more effectively these days.

Aside from the fog and the fact that from about 3:30 until 5 this morning our power was off, this day is shaping up nicely. This blog entry leaves you feeling flat, I know. But I felt so bad for not posting. Things will change, they always do. With that, I leave you. (I rhymed!)

But in the meantime, what’s up with you Seen any good movies lately?

Friday time capsule

After two relatively in-depth posts this week, I feel bereft of ideas. This could be due to the fact that it’s been raining almost non-stop since… forever. And I am highly affected by it; I get depressed. Pile on some anxiety over my parents coming into town and I feel pulled in many directions, stretched to my limits.  So, for lack of anything better with which to entertain you, let’s jump into our way-back machine and see some old pictures. For fun.

October 15, 2005:

wedding photo

October 21, 2005:

hawaiian sun

April 3, 2006:

3 doggies

September 4, 2006:labor day fam

December 26, 2006:

AZ Xmas

May 6, 2007:

20 weeks

August 29, 2007:


March 22, 2008:

6 months

August 23, 2008:

Fay tree

August 29, 2008:

1 year

October 9, 2008:


February 8, 2009:

18 months

March 28, 2009:

New York

May6, 2009:

not sick

There’s my life for the past 4 years. Kind of crazy how simply it can be summed up, huh? I feel like I have done so much. It’s crazy how quickly time passes.

I hope you all have a great weekend.

Branded, permanence

There are still things in my past I have not come to terms with/understood within myself. But I’m not going into those now; no, this is only a tie-in. When I was 20, I decided that I needed a tattoo. I had always thought I wanted one, but cannot remember when it materialized in my head that I would get one. At the time, I was living in an apartment with three of my good friends and we were living the life. We partied a lot, drank our weight on weekends, and threw caution to the wind. If I did something, it was in excess.  SO when the tattoo idea came about, I gave, well, not a lot of thought to the design. The one thing I did know was that it couldn’t mean anything. For some stupid reason, I was really into being anti. I thought if I got a design that had some kind of meaning, some purpose, then I was following the established order. And I wasn’t into that.

ankle tat

So this was my first ink.

I walked into Capital City Tattooz around 10 at night and browsed the pages of art, looking for the perfect thing. There seemed to be a lot of designs that closely resembled the Van Halen logo:


But I settled on the above, because it looked “cool” to me, at the time. My friend, Tina, said it kind of looked like swiss cheese.

I had heard that tattoos near any bone would hurt like hell but I needed to know. The tech rubbed deodorant on my ankle and transferred the image to skin. Once in the chair, I braced myself, friends at hand for support, and the buzz of the needle began as long-time tattoo artist Adam West (I shit you not) branded my flesh for the very first time.

And it hurt. And it didn’t. In a way, it kind of felt good. It bordered on that line between pleasure and pain… and I think I liked it. And I needed another one. I think it was about a year later that I went back for more.

calf tat

The only reasoning behind this one was that it matched the first. You can say it is “tribal” or you can say they look like “wings” but to me, they’re just a design. This tattoo took longer and the pain was just as amazing and fulfilling as that first time.

I do not deny that back then, my tattoos made me feel hardcore. I changed a lot between 21 and now – obviously – but every now and then I consider getting another. My thoughts on my existing tattoos are two-fold: they still don’t have any meaning other than they represent a period of time in my life when I was different and secondly, I don’t regret them, not one bit. I know a day will come when Elliot may ask me about them and want to, perhaps, get one of his own. I will not stress the permanence of ink, because that is what my mother did, and as any forbidden act, I used it to fuel the fire of opposition.

They’re just another part of me, like the leftover belly fat/skin from birthing a baby, the scar on my left shin from leaning on one of those big clunky old cable box switches, or hitch in my left ankle from so many gymnastics related sprains. If I got another, I would need to think harder on it though, perhaps make it relate to something, mean something. For balance. For the future…

Why I hate Gold’s Gym

Subtitle: Something I owe to the people who continually search for this topic.

I have a post titled something similar and apparently disgruntled gym members come to my site seeking commiseration, only to find that that post contains not one lick of explanation as to why I spent countless hours devising ways to obliterate all Gold’s Gym locations from the map.

Wind the clock back about, oh, five years. I believe it was October of 2004. Ash and I had begun living together – just he and I – in June and we had reached an impasse in our relationship. You know, the make it or break it place, the make your decision now or forever hold your peace place. To make a change in ourselves and our relationship, we “broke up” but were still living together. And we joined a gym. My memories about the whole relationship part are fuzzy (possibly blocked?) but I recall the gym stuff very vividly.

We ventured to the nearest location, took the tour and sat down with a beefy guy with a small head, comparatively. I was wary he would try to scam us but he swore that our membership was month to month and we could quit at any time. We perused the contract but in no clear terms did it say this OR otherwise. And we were pretty committed to making a change in our lives. Before this, we ate like there was no tomorrow and we gave not one tiny thought to the food we put in our mouths, nor the time at which we shoved said food into our gullets. By the time we joined the gym, we’d quit eating fast food and drinking soda. So this was the major change.

We signed on a two year contract, which was fine by us because we had committed to it and the incorporation of exercise into our lives really worked. Every day after work, we went to the gym. At first, we did only the stationary bikes – the reclined ones – but then we worked our way up to treadmills and then found the magic that is the elliptical. And once we found our groove, the pounds just melted away. I like to call this first six months “The Golden Age.” Sure, we were eating smaller portions and lean meats, barely any cheeses or fats in general, and I went all this time – oh-so many days – without a single cookie or ice cream. But we felt SO much better about ourselves, our relationship… everything.

And then, the holidays came. We slacked off a little on the diet but were still going strong. January: time for people to make their New Year’s resolutions. As you and I know, everyone seems to resolve to work out more. And so they did. And they joined our gym. Day after day, the machines we had always used were occupied by noobies, just getting their feet wet. Which, of course, I shan’t judge since I was that same slacker just six months prior. But boy did this anger me.

At this point, you’re probably wondering why I hate the gym. You say, hate the people, the circumstances, but it’s not the gym’s fault. Aye, right you are. But it spirals out of control very soon.

We started going to a different location, in hopes it may be slightly less crowded. And it was. But the first problem was that the televisions on half the machines were in a constant state of BROKEN. This sounds awfully whiny but if you’ve ever worked out at some length, then you know how torturous it can be. And the presence of entertainment can make an hour of pain pass much quicker. We filed complaints with the staff but they were always so quick to pawn it off on the repair people who never – EVER – seemed to show.

In general, the attitude of the employees was what killed it. They were the holier-than-thou sort. What a cushy job it must be for people who are already in shape to sit around and watch fat-asses swipe their membership cards all day. If a machine was broken or something else was wrong, these employees treated us like scum. It was sickening to be forced to feel like less, just because we carried a few extra pounds around our mid-sections; because we didn’t come complete with bulging biceps and a couple hundred fewer brain cells.

It all came to a head when we had reached our weight goals prior to the end of our contract. We had originally set out to look our best before our wedding and when we were satisfied and had control over our eating and our bodies, we wanted to quit the gym. And here’s where I began to despise the evil corporation that is Gold’s. We were informed that under no circumstances had anyone ever told us that our contract was month to month, even though the guy had said this; it was our word versus theirs. Then, they said we could request to prematurely end our contracts but it would cost fifty dollars just for our plea to be considered. There was no guarantee they would allow us out.

We sat in the manager’s office on more than one occasion, going through this back and forth of “Why do you want to quit?” He wouldn’t let us make our own choices. And this made us both resent the gym more than I can even put into words. It was a fierce hatred; when we drove past the parking lot, I imagined new ways to hurt them, all of them. It was unhealthy, but the way it all went down was such a travesty that I wanted to scream.

The kicker of it all was that we did exactly what the bulked up manager said we wouldn’t: we kept the weight off. We bought our own equipment and kept on the diet. He was positive that without Gold’s help, we’d never make it on our own. Way to be supportive, there, buddy. Some days I want to walk in there and say, “How ya like me now, bitch?” But that would be puerile. And what still burns, even though I’ve mostly come to terms with it all, is that Gold’s now offer 14.99 memberships on a month to month basis. We surmise that someone finally sued their asses and this was the result.

In the end, we learned a lot and got ourselves in shape no matter what. So I don’t hate Gold’s like I used to. But it was a long time spent feeling that way, a lot of wasted effort on their poor business practices. I wouldn’t recommend joining that gym but who knows? They may have also learned their lesson.

ETA: Please note I don’t *actually* think that muscles = fewer brain cells. I quite like guys who are built ;) .


I loosely follow a bunch of mommy/daddy blogs, but not like I used to. A couple months ago, they were a staple of my daily reading. These days, I find myself entrenched in actual *paying* work so I check in on “my sites” now and then, maybe once a week. Through the power of Twitter, I am able to keep up with some of the on-goings with fellow mothers. Some have issues with their kids not eating, or diapers coming off in the night (Hello? This happened to Elliot the other night too!), or screaming themselves to sleep. Well, right here ::arm raised, spirit fingers:: we have apparently joined that club. This is not a membership I asked for, mind you.

Naptime was painful yesterday. Elliot has reached the age where he can tell us that he’s ready to take said nap. He tries to climb into his crib while asking, “Night night?” So we put him down around, oh, 11:30 AM and but an hour later, he was in the corner, on tippy-toes, screaming like someone had a knife in his chest. Sure enough, once sprung, he was happy and chipper and all, “Let’s play, mama.” But mama was pressure washing the back of the house and determined to finish. But the point here, is that he needed a second nap and it was torturous. The screaming began soon as he go into the crib. I had to sit in the recliner with him until he found sleep.

Bedtime proved to also be difficult. In short, an hour of all out screaming and at the end, he threw everything out of his crib and plopped down and passed out, presumably from sheer exhaustion. He’s been going to sleep like a champ for roughly 14 months now so this change in behaviour is rather disconcerting. I know kids change around this time; I mean, he’s nearing two and lots of things are changing. He’s being more vocal, more contentious. He’s definitely developing a sense of self and what he wants, which means he’s not going along with whatever anymore. Sigh. I knew this would happen one day and for the most part, I can handle it. But the screaming before bed is rough.

And it’s rainy today, humid but not too hot. Forecast calls for rain all week. Which, um, sucks. The reason I felt like crap on Friday was due to an argument Ash and I had about boarding the dogs when we go down to visit my parents this week. Problem resolved: my parents are coming here. And it’s going to rain.

The upshot to all this, well, is that life is still pretty good, despite the Boy’s changes and the weather. I may be low on money and tired (ok, extremely sleepy) and my arms are killing me from the pressure washing but really, life is good. I should be thankful.

Yo, whatchu up to?

I took a slight hiatus from blogging because I got busy and then I got stressed and then all I really wanted to do was blank out in front of the TV watching cartoons and eating cereal. Except, I managed to get myself into gear and I  worked out and cleaned the house and did all those things that may seem mundane but remind you that you haven’t hit rock bottom depression or anything; because if you can still get the dishes washed and the clothes hung up and the grocery shopping done, well, then you’re just living life. Life can’t always be parties and activity and friends and well, you know what I mean.

So yes, I think I’ve been losing some weight. The working out has gotten easier lately and I’ve been really pushing myself. I’m still only doing 30 minutes on the elliptical but I’m up to level 3 on the difficulty. Also, not using my arms anymore so my thighs can build up. And believe me, it works.  I would like to say I am also being strict on my diet but this weekend sort of smashed it to bits. First we had pizza and then I went to the gas station and drank about 3/4 of a Faygo rootbeer. I felt guilty 75% in and chucked it, NOT feeling guilty for wasting money; it was only 65 cents. Well, then Ash and I had TCBY. I ate it right after my workout too. Oooh, snap. Then today, Elliot and I were running errands – ok, I was keeping him entertained more like – and I had a Nugrape soda because, well, because I haven’t had a grape soda since I was maybe 14. And let me tell you, as the grapety high-fructose corn syrup spilled across my tongue and down into my gullet, I enjoyed it more than you probably care to know. And while we’re on the subject of guilty pleasures, my 6 issues of the Nightwing:Year One story arrived yesterday and though I told myself to read them slowly, draw it out and read only one per day, I devoured them all in one sitting. How could I not?? I wanted to know how it came to be that Bruce would actually fire Robin, how he could just up and replace him (and rather quickly, might I add) with Jason. Oh, and when Nightwing calls Jason, “Little wing”, no wonder there’s so much slash fic out there about them. Because, um, too adorable.

In the week to come, I promise more scintillating blog topics but for now, this is what I have to offer. I hope everyone’s having a good weekend. If you feel so inclined, do share.

Hey hey, Random TuesDAY


I found this on The Un Mom and I’m up to the challenge. I think I’ll even do it in acronym fashion. :)

(And it WILL be random, my pretties.)

T is for:  Tedious, which is what the work is that I am doing right now. Again, it’s semi-secret work but let me tell you, it makes my brain hurt. You know that scene in Nightmare Before Christmas where the doctor opens his head and scratches his brain? I feel like I need to do something similar; massage my brain into action.

U is for: Useless, which is kind of how I feel today. I began the day with a headache, the kind where sinus pressure causes your head to swim each time you bend over or turn. It kind of feels like vertigo, which, while a cool word, is not actually very fun.

E is for: Ectoplasm. Isn’t that a neat word? It reminds me of Ghostbusters and specifically, the scene where Slimer is eating all those hot dogs and he’s cramming them in his mouth the way Cookie Monster does.

S is for:  Solomon Grundy, which is a nursery rhyme from the 1840s’s:

Solomon Grundy,
Born on a Monday,
Christened on Tuesday,
Married on Wednesday,
Took ill on Thursday,
Grew worse on Friday,
Died on Saturday,
Buried on Sunday.
This is the end
Of Solomon Grundy

Except, DC also used it for a character:


D is for: Discombobulated, which is – by far – one of the coolest ways to say confused. I like to think it most accurately describes that split second between sleep and awake, right as your husband reaches over to turn off the alarm but accidentally hits that radio button instead and since we don’t use the alarm clock radio, it’s all static and garbled annoying DJ voices and I want to take my pillow and smash it into said husband’s head because my god, man, it’s six effing fifteen and I was sleeeeeping!

A is for: Adam Lambert on American Idol, who is pretty dreamy, though gayer than Christmas. (And don’t I always seem to be drawn to the gay ones? What is with that??) I’m really pulling for him to win because I think he has the most talent out of the three remaining contestants. Tonight, the non-impressive Kris goes home and next week: showdown between Danny and Adam, Adam ftw.Adam Lambert

Y is for: Y: The Last Man, which I began reading the other night. This is supposed to be one of the premier graphic novels and something “everyone should read.” Without being too spoilery, Yorick is the last man on earth after some freak accident. At this point, it’s pretty much all we know and he is trying to get from Boston to California to retrieve a scientist’s clone info to see if they can repopulate the earth. The writing is solid and also pretty funny, even in such a grim situation.

So there you have it. Feel free to do this little Tuesday exercise. I found it quite amusing. And it helped me procrastinate just long enough…

It only works if we’re all in

So, my little lurkers, I have an offer for you. I found a meme on DeviantArt this morning that I partook in… but that is also fairly deviant. (har har).

The instructions were thus: “You must list ten fictional characters you would have sex with (in no particular order)”.

Surprisingly, it was harder than I thought since there are a lot of fascinating characters in books, comics , and movies but would I sleep with them? Not necessarily. So I made my list but I will NOT post it until you – my faithful readers –  answer this question in the comments. I implore you, for it is fun and devious and we all need a break from work, right?

So get to it. And I’ll post mine soon. ;)

Random weekend chatter

First, let me just wallow in the fact that the Magic managed to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory last night. You let a fatass with the lamest nickname ever – Big Baby – beat you? Come on guys, you can do better than that. Oh and Dwight? If you are going to be a self-proclaimed “Superman”, then you better pick up the pace, buddy. Supes is pretty damn ridiculous and your shooting percentage last night? Not so much.

Secondly, I come today in praise of the new Star Trek movie, which rocked my face off. Seriously. Even if you are not a Trek fan – even if you HATE Star Trek with the passion of a thousand fiery suns – you should see it anyway. Well-cast, well-acted, awesome action scenes, humor, new Kirk is HOT, and it all in all was enjoyable. I am glad we chose to see this over Wolverine, though I still need to get my ass to a theater on that one. I know it won’t be as good but I feel like I owe it to my age-old fandom to see it.

I’m eating hummus. Aren’t you glad I told you this??

The weekend was pretty good in that we got a lot of stuff done and it was Mother’s Day and all, which means I got pampered. On Saturday, Elliot and I ran errands and we napped and ate ice cream and watched a movie. I actually recommend Sex Drive if for nothing other than James Marsden redeeming himself for his awful role of Cyclops in the Xmen trilogy. He’s much better suited to the older brother bully he played in this flick. On Sunday, I got nifty flowers, Ash got up with Elliot and I got to sleep in. I read comics in bed and then we ate breakfast. Of course, it all went south when Ash realized how hard it is to wake up  that early on the weekend (he normally sleeps ’til 10) so he fell asleep on the couch. Granted, I had XM Chill station on and it IS rather sleep-inducing. But later on, we took a long walk and I got to nap and read Y: The Last Man (vol.1).

So I had a good weekend and woke up today feeling… angry. For no reason really. I drank coffee, ate yogurt and got slammed as soon as  I got into my office. It’s busy as all get-out and I can’t fathom why. Summer is usually slow. So anyway, how was your weekend? See any good movies?

Bullet in yer brain, yo

  • I had a dream Wednesday night that I was a member of the Bat family and I had a night off, thank God, because I was feeling really tired and didn’t have the energy to go out on patrol. I was radioing in to Nightwing to tell him thanks for the break. And then last night, I dreamt that an army of machines/robots was invading the Subway tubes and the Bat team could not take them down. And all was despair because if they couldn’t, who could? There’s something really wrong with me, I know.
  • Stack of books on my desk right now that includes Mansfield Park, Pride and Prejudice, Batman Unmasked, and one titled Superheroes and Gods. I have my work cut out for me.
  • I’m leaving at 11 to: go buy comics, eat Mexican food, and see Star Trek with Ash. Oh, joy!
  • I have no good blogging topics on deck
  • My brain is mush
  • It’s Friday!