If you can't stand the heat, get out of my blog

I told you I was going to post about how I bend it like Bikram in hot yoga. I desperately want to claim I thought of the phrase bend it like Bikram, but I didn't. I read it on the internets somewhere. Anyway, it would be a lie because I don't quite bend it. I sort of stretch and reach it and suffer through it and often just give up and lay down during it. What I love about hot yoga is that even when you've exhausted yourself and have to lay down during class you're still burning tons of calories. Where else can you work out like that? I challenge you to think of a place where you simply lie down on your back and get a work out. Actually, no, don't tell me. I don't need to know about your naughty business. The point is hot yoga, although torturous and miserable, is a fantastic way to work out. It's the best detox too. However, there are a few things it's not good for, such as people with fantastic sense of smell (me), people who don't want to hear other people fart (me), people who are grossed out easily - especially when it comes to other people's sweat and emissions (me) and people who generally prefer laying in a vegetative state watching reruns of The Hills to exercise (again, me). So I'll be honest, these things keep me from going sometimes. I get scared I'm going to have to work out next to Stinky McFartsalot, Missy Idon'twashmymat or Bikeshorts McGee. I'm not a fan of these people. What I am a fan of though is feeling great and hot yoga really makes you feel good (afterward). So if you've never done it, give it a try. If you have, leave me a comment and tell me some things you love and some things you hate about it. I'll bet we're not so different me and you.

Stass McGrass

Stacie told me the other day she reads my blog daily and thoroughly enjoys it. I was really happy to hear that. I didn't really expect people to tune in very often, let alone daily. Suffice to say Stacie is my biggest fan. As a thank you to my loyal friend I'm going to tell you a few things I love about her. If you leave comments and read my blog a lot maybe I'll post something nice about you too.

1. Stacie's nickname is Stass. Some people call her Stace but I reject this. Everybody named Stacie is called Stace at some point in their lives, right? How many Stacie's do you know that go by Stass? That's right, one. And this is one of the reasons I love her, a kick ass nickname.

2. When Stass was a kid she had a pet squirrel that scratched her back while she fed him peanuts over her shoulder. The best part, the squirrel's name was Snidely Whiplash. I don't even need to elaborate here.

3. Somebody with a pet squirrel named Snidely Whiplash could only be the offspring of a race car driver and a sky diver. Coolness abounds.

4. Stacie is the only person that would laugh if I ask her "what handouts?". See? If you're not Stacie, you're not laughing.

5. Our junior year of high school Stacie convinced me to go up to some girl and tell her I was going to kick her ass. This was completely asinine of course because I could not (and cannot) kick anybody's ass seeing as how I am 4'11'' and can't even open a bottle of Gatorade. Regardless, with the confidence of Stacie having my back I walked up to this girl and told her I was going to "regulate" and some other silly things. A few years later Stacie and I ran into this girl at Time Out and had a good laugh.

I know you all have your own crazy ass stories about Stacie. Feel free to comment.

Wii Fitness? yes please

Let me preface this post by telling you how good I am at Wii bowling. My best is a 243, pretty good, right? I rarely bowl under 200 and my Mii looks hella good. I always* beat Dan by bringing what I like to call "the fury". Beware "the fury" if you ever bowl against me on Wii; real bowling, not so much. I bowl better than Obama though, and probably Hilary too. Anyway, now you know my secret power and how much I enjoy the Wii. So Wii is coming out with a new game/system thing called Wii Fitness. The article I read online today says it facilitates such activities as yoga and push ups. That's a random ass combination but I'll go with it, must be a zany Japanese thing. They are always coming up with all sorts of wacky stuff like Pokemon and sushi. So I am somewhat interested in obtaining this Wii Fitness and trying it out for myself. I hope it contains more features than yoga and push ups though, maybe a little kickboxing or Pilates would be good. I guess wii'll see (queue after-joke drum sequence). Dan if you're reading this don't forget my birthday is July 1st. love you.
*always=usually

Home, sweet, whatever...

Dan and I have been looking for a house the past few months. We have been really adamant that we want a flat fenced yard, 2 car garage and a good location (preferably Kirkland). So naturally we bought a condo in Kenmore. There's this little obstacle we've been facing called money. The obstacle is that we don't have much and people selling their houses want a lot. So we found a nice condo complex that has been "remodeled" or "converted" or whatever you want to call it, and put in an offer. It's been a few weeks and we've now officially bargained our meager, yet surprisingly valuable souls to the devil, started dealing drugs on holidays and weekends and signed a contract to name our first born Wells Fargo Remax Ross; but the condo is ours. Hooray. Perhaps in a few years we can afford furniture. Until then, little Wells Fargo will have to sleep in the bathtub.

Tag, I'm it

Shelby my friend who can't wink has tagged me and apparently I'm "it". So as "it" I am supposed to follow these simple rules:

1) you link back to the person who tagged you.

Ok, here is the link to Shelby's blog that I heart very much.

2) post these rules on your blog.

Done

3) share six unimportant things about yourself.

See below

4) tag six random people at the end of your entry.

Oh no, I don't know 6 people who blog, ok, I'll see what I can do.

5) let the tagged people know by leaving a comment on their blogs

Working on it....

Here are my six random facts:

1.) One of my dreams is to see Radiohead live. They are coming to town on August 20th and I am so bummed it's a Wednesday night. Also, I don't have any friends that heart Radiohead as much as I do. I'm debating going by myself big nerd style.

2.) I can't watch people kiss or brush their teeth on TV. It grosses me out big time.

3.) I have a coworker whose hair is the exact same shape as Darth Vader's helmet. It used to be funny but now it just makes me mad. She is the coworker addressed in my first entry. I despise her helmet hair and her son Luke.

4.) I really need a tan.

5.) Dan has been trying to get me to ski and play golf for a couple of years now. I have tried but I really suck at both.

6.) I bend it like Bikram in hot yoga. I'll probably post about it soon.

I am searching for someone to tag, I'll get back to you...

Project Fear Moment of Survivor Spaces

I have this idea for a new reality show. You get all the reality show hosts together and pit them against each other in challenges. So you would have Allison Sweeney the host of The Biggest Loser, Hiede Klum host of Project Runway, Paige Davis the wacky shaggy haired monster in my recurring nightmare and host of Trading Spaces, Jeff Probst graduate of Bellevue High and host of Survivor, Joe Rogan of Fear Factor, Mark Whalberg from such gems as The Bachelor and probably the worst reality show ever - Moment of Truth and the list goes on and on.
Obviously Joe Rogan would win every event except the smarmy yet charming grimace/smile combo throw down which would clearly go to Jeff Probst. The speed painting challenge may go to Paige Davis but I'll bet Rogan is a whiz with a paint roller. The only thing Allison Sweeney would win is the how to pretend you're sad that you just sent a fat person home contest. The participants would be voted off by their fellow contestants in a grandiose tribal torch bearing, flower giving, spider eating ceremony and the person who gets kicked off is told the most jarring send-off in reality show history: You are out and you are not the biggest loser but you are the weakest link goodbye and the tribe has spoken and said you're a liar and by the way you're fired see you later decorator p.s. you can't have this rose.
What do you think? You would watch it, right?

picture pages, picture pages, time to do your picture pages...

I have been reading your blogs lately and I've noticed you all have lots of great pictures. I have very few pictures and that's kind of bumming me out. So I've decided to post some pictures and break up the monotony of those damn boring ass words I love to post so much. Here you go:

This is my dog Lola. For awhile we thought she might be a Schnoodle (half Schnauzer - half Poodle) but now we're pretty sure she's pure Schnauzer. A few weeks ago they switched her at the groomers and gave Dan back the wrong dog. He actually left with Luna, the identical Mini Schnauzer. It was a mess. Lola loves to chew dirty socks. Her new favorite hobby is stealing the socks off my niece Carolina's feet. This is Carolina:

I am in love with her. Notice that she is in my mother's arms. My mom has not put her down since the minute she was born. For real, she has been holding her for 3 months and 2 days. We are expecting to surgically separate them on Carolina's 18th birthday. Carolina throws up a lot. I am told that most babies throw up a lot but I'm not inclined to believe it. If I did I would never have children of my own. So let's pretend Carolina is some kind of vomiting freak child and most kids don't actually reveal the contents of their stomachs until they are 14 and drink an entire Strawberry Fields Boones and three Busch Ices and throw up all over their friend's parent's carpet in which case I don't have to deal with it. Humor me.

I don't have a clever transition into the next picture so here it is:

This is our bungalow in Bora Bora. We went there for our honeymoon and it was freakin amazing. If you ever get the chance I would highly recommend going there. Be aware that a drink costs $25 at any hotel. Don't fret, you can go to the grocery store and get Tahiti Drink, possibly the best liquid concoction ever devised by man. It's fruit punch and alcohol mixed in a handy carton. You must know the fruit punch is fresh juice from Bora Bora's vast array of tropical fruits. The alcohol, um, I'm not so sure what exactly the alcohol is, but trust me, it is delicious. Flights leave from LA daily, don't try to finagle any upgrades because you're on your honeymoon. So is everybody else.

That concludes my picture post. I hope you enjoyed the break between the bothersome text.

oh the shame

I've been hesitant to post anything because I don't want to have to tell you about my weekend.

I did a very bad thing. It was so innocent though, it crept up on me. I didn't even notice it sneaking up, getting cozy, brushing back my hair, whispering in my ear, "Lit, you know you want to, come on, don't deny it". So before I could rationalize, think, resist - before I could do anything it was upon me. Cheese. There, now you know. I'm so ashamed. I totally went on a cheese bender this weekend.

It started on Friday at my co-worker's 40th birthday/conference room pizza party. My job was to bring the drinks. I had a brilliant plan to buy some 2 liters of pop in the morning before work. At the same time I would pick up something dairy-free for lunch. After singing Happy Birthday I would leave to "run an errand" but really go back to my desk and be good and eat my dairy free lunch and maybe blog about how my co-worker is really 42 but I'm just playing along. Things went horribly wrong at the grocery store. The 2 liters were beyond my reach on the top shelf.  It was 10 to 7 in the morning so there really wasn't anybody in the aisle to help me. I considered just buying 12 packs of cans but I wouldn't be able to carry them. So I went out to the bakery section and asked this guy if he would help me. It really wasn't a big deal, he was totally nice and came and got me 2 liters of Coke, 2 liters of Diet Coke, 2 liters of Dr. Pepper and 2 liters of Sprite. I put them in my canvas tote (because I heart Mother Nature and don't insult her by using plastic bags) and paid for my bevy of sodas and went to work. In the commotion of practically being a little person and getting sidetracked by my freakishly short legs I totally forgot to buy a healthy lunch.

Obviously my genius plan to avoid the pizza failed. I was so hungry at noon that I sang Happy Birthday and then proceeded to gorge myself on 2 slices of pizza and 1 slice of cake. I'm only human. So the dairy-free plan was ruined and the rest of my weekend consisted of consuming mass amounts of cheesy goodness. I even ordered mozzarella sticks at Lucky 7 on Saturday night. You know what, they were delicious, and I don't regret eating them. 

I have yet to re-kick the dairy habit and get on the wagon, so to speak. I just ate a Girl Scout cookie, and it was damn good. Thin Mint, in case you're wondering. I've decided that a life without dairy is not worth living. How can you possibly avoid cheese? It's nonsense. I don't know what I was thinking. Moderation, that's the key.  Not so much mozzarella sticks though. That was probably overdoing it.

welcome back my friend

I'm not one to let the weather affect my feelings. When you live in Seattle you can't really call in sick and spend the day in bed watching movies when it rains. If you did, you'd lose your job and your muscles would atrophy. You'd be an unemployed vegetable who's really good at movie trivia. I've never claimed to have SAD and I don't go tanning to enhance my vitamin D absorption. I don't jet off to Arizona for spring training or spend a few weeks in Palm Springs, and that's usually fine. This year though, this year has been kind of rough in the weather department. There were those few mandatory teaser sunny days in February. Usually it's cold for awhile after that and then it gradually turns to spring. But when it was supposed to be gradually turning we got, surprise...snow.

So even though I'm all tough and weather resistant I started to get a little mad. I mean, come on, snow?! Are you fucking kidding me? For months now I've been cold. I mean all the time, I'm cold when I wake up, I'm cold all day in my shitty cubicle, I'm cold in my apartment and then I'm cold when I get into bed again. There are a few minutes when I'm not cold and those are the glorious few minutes I spend in the shower. So I suffer through all those crappy short ass grey misty freezing days and then everybody makes a big deal out of the first day of spring and we all get excited and go buy shorts and then we wake up and it's fucking snowing outside. For real? In my frustration I have abandoned all use of commas - forgive me.

So today, today was good. I went outside at lunch and it was sunny, and kind of warm. I'll take that as a good sign that maybe someday soon I will not spend the entire day in icy misery. I say welcome back to the sun, stay awhile, we need you.