I Was Once A Bike Commuter

There was a time that in my life when I would pedal my way to work and school. I was the person who watched Good Day Sacramento religiously and made comments about how crazy those people were sitting in traffic at the toll plaza for hours. Well, today I was reminded that I am now one of those crazy people. I have gone from bike commuter to bay area commuter. I must say though, I started work at 7am so I made it before the heavy traffic. That is always a plus, even though a 4am wake up call may not be.

I am sorry that I often have some bodily function or nasty comment in posts, but I really hate the fact that the rest stop in Vallejo is closed. It KILLS me every time. I mean what is a girl to do after two double espressos, a full water bottle, and a 2hour drive. EEK. Holding it is out of the question and I am always too embarrassed to walk into a place without purchasing anything. I am not against the side of the road, but I don’t need an indecent exposure fine or anything. I opted to pretend I was getting gas, and go. I feel bad for the next few people who had to use the restroom. Sorry. My excuse has always been my fast metabolism. Haha

Anyways, the day went well. If anyone needs a little confidence booster, go work in Cardiac Rehab. I heard I was beautiful and thin over and over and over and over............ ok I guess you get the point. I even had one patient tell me that I intimidated her because I was “skinny.” I guess that was her excuse not to exercise for the day. Maybe she was expecting an overweight Exercise Physiologist. I made her walk anyway and told her that was how I stayed skinny. Lets see other questions I got were: 1) How old are you? 2) Are you married? 3) Where are you from? I never disclosed my age, told them I had a boyfriend, and replied Amador County. People always say I have an accent, and think I am from the south. I don’t know why. It must be because I grew up around my German family from Minnesota. No one knows where AC is, so that’s always a lost cause trying to explain. As for my age, I just really don’t think they need to know. They always use their ages as an excuse not to exercise, so I don’t want to give them the leverage of being older.................. even though 50-70 years is noticeable. I just pretend that I am between 70 and 100 too. Haha. The ladies really like to gab. I know all about their husbands. I guess some things never change ladies. I can picture myself and Brynne in Cardiac Rehab 50 years from now.

The day was a success. I love the staff and the patients. I have absolutely nothing to complain about other then the fact that I am exhausted. Well I am home now and really need some sleep. I would love to go watch Keith race tonight, but I really can’t get back in that car. I am going to make the cats take a nap with me. SLEEP........ I need you.

Life on the A List

Sometimes I really think I need a reality TV show. I think my life is much more interesting then “Holly’s World” or “Bethany Getting Married.” “Kendra” is pretty cool though. I mean, currently I am sitting in bed watching Good Day Sacramento with my cat. I spent yesterday folding clothes and searching for a mini chick-fil-A cow. Today I have plans to go for a bike ride and try on my bridesmaid gown for Brynne’s wedding. Does life really get anymore interesting then that? Haha.

Ok, maybe my life isn’t reality TV worthy, but I am happier then I have ever been. For the first time in my life I am not wishing today were over, or trying to just finish this last project. Throughout high school and college I was always wishing the days away. I couldn’t wait for a test to be over, a project to be done, the semester to end, or the thesis to be a faint memory of my life. I always felt like I needed to turn in the best work and get the best grade. I never took time off, always went to summer school, and made sure to graduate in an appropriate manner of time. I am not sure why I did this. I think it is part of being the oldest. I had to be the one to set the bar high. I wanted my parents to be proud of me. I am now 25 with a graduate degree, and I still don’t feel like I have accomplished what I intended to do. The funny thing is that I don’t really know what I intended to do. My goal has always been to work my ass off and one day it will all pay off, and my life will be perfect. I have now realized that life isn't perfect. I read something that my friend Rebecca posted the other day...............

(The past has already happened. The future is what's yet to come, but everyday will always be a gift. That is why it is called the "present.")

The only thing I can really do today, is to enjoy the present, and that is exactly what I intend to do.

One too Many M&M’s in the Trail Mix Bag

Today had potential for perfection. I worked the sweet 9:45 to 5pm shift with my man Patrick, and had a massage scheduled at 5:30pm with my honey. No complaints about that. The day started off with me making coffee, making lunch, and picking out my work outfit. I had two pairs of jeans in mind for the day. A) The light blue “comfy” jeans that sag a little in the behind resembling a possible accident in the pants B) The “sexy” dark blue jean with little wiggle room. I asked Keith his opinion and he quickly chose option B. Option B it was. I set off to work on my bicycle, got about 3 miles down the road, and realized I forgot my work shoes. AWSOME. Keith came to the rescue and brought me my sweet Keen MJ shoes.

The day went on, it was busy. I took my lunch at 2pm, ate my homemade trail mix made up of a handful of peanuts, handful of almonds, and two handfuls of both raisons and M&M’s. I love the sweet stuff. Just as my lunch was coming to an end, I went to use the restroom. When I was through I went to pull up the ole skinny jeans. I attempted to do a couple squats, trying to make a little more room for my, well thunder thighs. On about the third squat and lunge to the side RIIIIIIP! OOOOOOO no. I looked down and I had ripped my jeans in the right thigh. It was right at the part of the inner thigh where that extra flab of fat has made a home. Ladies, you must know what I’m talking about. Well, life must go on. I went to find Patrick and made him aware of my predicament. He said it wasn’t bad, so I went on with the remainder of my day with a rip in my thigh. I just tried not to bed over and was sure to keep that leg straight like a wooden peg if I needed to bend over.

Work was soon over and it was time for my much needed massage. I wanted to slip into something a bit more comfortable, so I put on some REI running shorts with the built in underwear. I was off to my massage. Keith and I get into the couples room and I realize I have no underwear to wear for the massage. I mean, you can go without, but I like the comfort of a quality pair of panties. O’well. The perfect day went not so perfect. I ate one too many M&M’s in the trail mix bag, ripped my pants, and had a very “nudy” massage. Although I must say, it was still a good day. I enjoyed work with friends and the evening with my love. I guess those mishaps are apart of that thing called life. Maybe next time i'll go with option A.

The Litter Disaster

Yesterday was PETCO day. I needed to pick up some kitty litter and food for the weasels, aka Mahoney and Vella. My cats are a little on the, lets say, large side. It is pointless for me to buy the little 8 pound kitty food bag for 16 bucks when I could spend 24 dollars on a 20 pound bag. The problem is that I am very picky about the food and litter I buy. I never have a problem buying the large bag of Nutro Natural overweight management for indoor adult cats, but the litter is a bit tougher. I hate the smell of a dirty litter box, and I have tried multiple cat litters. I have found that the "Ever Clean Extra Strength" is awesome! Not the Ever Clean Charcoal, Multiple Cat, or Unscented. It must be Extra Strength. Anyways, every time I go to PETCO they only have one box of my favorite Ever Clean litter. Think about the biological process of mammals. A 20 pound bag of food for two 20 pound cats requires far more litter then one box. This poses as a problem. This requires me to make bi-monthly trips to PETCO to purchase litter. I'd rather just make one trip and do it all in one shot. Well yesterday must have been my birthday or something because to my surprise PETCO had TWO Ever Clean Extra Strength cat litters. I was super excited and brought my items up to the register. The cashier leans over to pick up the box of cat litter, comments about its heavy weight, tries to scan it and CRASH! My precious box of cat litter went all over the floor! She apologized repeatedly and stated that she would look in the back for another box. I knew this was just a common courtesy. I ask monthly, well bi-monthly, if they have an additional box and they never do. They always have the other Ever Clean versions to offer, which results in me looking like a crazy cat lady when I attempt to explain why they don't work as well as the sister version. I guess it wasn't my birthday after all. However I did get 15 percent off my purchase and some little balls for the Vella Kitty. Mahoney hates balls. He is more of a stuffed animal kind of guy.

A Toast to the “Red Headed Slut”

Day 1: The day before

The much awaited bachelorette party for Jessica Rabbit began Friday afternoon when a group of sexy ladies drove up to Tahoe for the weekend. It wouldn’t be a party without a little mishap on the first night, right? A) I decided to wear a cute little designer skirt with beads to dinner that somehow got stuck in the little holes of the patio furniture. It just took a little wiggling to get out, no big deal. B) Jenna pulled an illegal u-turn in the middle of the road right in front of a Mercedes. No worries, nothing happened to the rented car. 3) Just as we settled into bed for the evening Heather claimed that something was crawling all over her as she scratched her body in a panic. We found nothing and determined she was either crazy or on crack. Both likely. (Kidding Heather)

Day 2: The day of

On the way to the lake the next morning I managed to stub my toe on a raised portion of the path. I have a sweet blood blister to prove it. We set up camp, and to our surprise a bachelor party of 13 men was stationed right next to us. They had rented a boat, which we quickly took over free of cost. It turned out that since we had 9 girls, there was no room for the men. We took a driver, a flag holder, and left the remainder of the bachelor party behind. Thanks for the boat boys! Idiots.

After a long day it was time for a pedicure, gifts, dinner, and VEX. Pedicures were awesome, the gifts were sexy, the dinner was amazing, and VEX was................. a blur.

Day 3: The morning after...........

I recall drinking a little Champaign during gifts, a little wine during dinner, and toasting a “Red Headed Slut” with the ladies. I quickly went from sober to sick. I hate that! You totally miss that fun buzz. The night lasted, well forever. We managed to get into bed around 5am Sunday morning. I shot out of my sleeping at 5:45am with an upset stomach. I quickly ran down the narrow stairs of the cabin. My feet are kind of big so I had to run with my toes pointed out to avoid falling. To my surprise there were already two sick women occupying the bathrooms (Brynne and Jenny). The trashcan was the next best thing. My pasta dinner didn’t smell so good coming up. I decided to nap a little by the can, just incase I started feeling a little woozy again.

Hours later Brynne and I set off on a breakfast adventure, and managed to find a hole in the wall coffee shop. The smell of pastries and coffee were not settling well. The woman working the counter noticed our, lets say tore back look, and jumped to conclusions recommending a burger from Ernie’s as a hangover remedy. We smiled, trying not to appear as if we were up all night. We just acted like it was perfectly normal to crave burgers for breakfast, and drove away. Ernie’s was quite crowded. I suppose all of the VEX customers were there for their morning chow. We needed food NOW. We wanted that burger. MC Donald’s, here we come! We sat for what seemed to be forever in the drive through of Mc Donald’s, drove up to order, and were told that lunch was not served until 10:30am. It was 10:06am. “What the FU@K!???????,” Brynne yelled in the window. We pulled out of the drivethrough sideways, but safely. We needed that burger and decided to wait around inside staring the burger makers down until clock struck 10:30am. Finally! Best burger and fries ever.

The ice cream shop opened at 11am, so we decided, why not? Walking up the steps to the old ice cream parlor, guess who stubs the opposite toe and stumbles? Yep, me. AAAAAAA. Regardless, hair up and braless, we walk in. No other then the woman we had seen hours before at the coffee shop was standing there. “You ladies feeling better, she asked? I replied, “It’s been a rough morning.” I got my Kona coffee ice cream in a cup and took off. I was glad Jenna was in charge of the drive home. Down highway 50, through the house door, and straight to bed.

Why is it that a week later we say, “That was a good time.” Hmmm. That’s not what I was thinking at 5:45 am Sunday morning. Happy Bachelorette Brynne. I love you.

A word to the readers......... I just wanted to say that I am not an advocate of drinking or stealing boats. I actually do not partake either one on a regular basis. You probably noticed it only took me 3 drinks to barf. It's just that, well, who can turn down a redhead????? hmmmmm Not Ken, not me.

Jessica Rabbit and Crazy Cruella

These days my worldly contributions are quite minimal, I know, but today I had a little bridesmaid duty to tend to. Today’s assignment was to accompany Brynne to Salon Bravissimo to have a hair trial. This needs not to be confused by a hair consultation, which was last week. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the wedding world (KEITH): A consultation is a simple 15-minute visit with the stylist to meet, greet, and discuss prices. A trial is when the stylist and the bride throw ideas around and construct a pre wedding hair masterpiece.

Now to the point of today’s story. Behind Brynne sat a crazy woman, whom I choose to call Crazy Cruella. I do not call her Cruella because her actions mirror those of “Cruella Deville,” though she bares a physical resemblance. The woman was indeed crazy, hence the crazy portion of her nickname. Why was she crazy? I’ll explain. Crazy Cruella’s hair stylist went into the back to mix hair dye, asked Cruella to grab a drape, and told her she would be back momentarily. Cruella decides that she needs to use the restroom, which we didn’t know at the time. She repeatedly stepped on my feet while she checked the bathroom like a Volcher. Cruella begins to ask Holly the hairdresser (Brynne's hairdresser) for a drape and complains that someone has been in the restroom forever. Apparently Cruella didn’t know she needed to turn the knob, no one was in there. I guess her bathroom door at home opens for her. Holly leaves Brynne for a moment to get Cruella her drape. Cruella begins to sniff sniff sniff the drape up and down. We couldn’t help, but to stare. What was she doing? No, Holly did not give you a dirty drape. Put the thing on, sit down, and shut-up! Cruella then proceeded to ask the poor intern sweeping the floor what type of hair products her stylist was going to use on her because she has sensitive skin and blah blah blah. The poor intern replied, “I can ask her.” Who does that? Why not ask these questions before you make the appointment? Cruellas hair stylist finally returns and is greeted by, “How long is this going to take? My husband has a doctors appointment at 11am.” OMG Lady, it’s 10:15am right now, and you have a full head of grey to color. My only conclusion............ I don’t even know.

As for Brynne, she looked amazing! Allow me to introduce you to Jessica Rabbit. Bridesmaid daily duty, completed. This weekend, the Bachelorette Party!

Inside the Innie Canyon

This is the first post in which I will discuss a body part: the belly button. As a child we are quick to learn that some people have an “innie” and others have an “outie.” I myself have a canyon! The thing is so deep, I can’t see the end. This becomes problematic for hygienic purposes. I do my best to keep the canyon clean, but there is not much you can do when the end is nowhere in sight. This afternoon I came home from a tough bike ride in the heat, and gave my belly button a little scratch. I noticed a waxy textured substance in my belly button, like what you may find in your ear. I tried to clean it out, but it’s nearly impossible to hold my belly button open while sticking a q-tip in it. This called for immediate action and attention. I called for help, KEITH! In discussed he refused to help me, but knew it was a necessity. I held my belly button open while Keith dug at it with hydrogen peroxide, 8 q-tips, and a headlamp. He finished the job by spraying Dust-off (the original compressed gas duster) in my belly button hole. All Clean! WHEW. Who knew it was this tough to properly clean your belly button?