cookbook?

So I'm thinking I should write a cookbook. Why not? I don't really expect people to buy it. I doubt news of it would ever spread like wild fire and have honorable mention on food blogs everywhere (or any blog, really). But I still think it would be fun to do it and offer it to friends or family. And maybe someday someone would ask to buy a copy. And even if that never happens, I'd still be able to say that I wrote a cook book.

Writing a cook book is simply putting all of your recipes together in a book. It's not that hard. Taking the time to do it is the only thing you have to do. If you want to get fancy, you can use an online service such as Tastebook. That's about all I'd do. It's not like I'd find it necessary to have it published and circulated to the masses. You will not see me sitting at Border's for a book signing. I am not Pioneer Woman. It takes someone years to become a household name and turn themselves into a product. I do not have the time or the desire. But I still really want to write a cook book, so I'm going to. And, I already started it. I'm pretty excited. So if anyone wants one, let me know. And if not, then you'll be missing out, because it's going to have a million sweet recipes of mine. Maybe not a million, but probably a hundred. Like this homemade pancake recipe that I made this morning.

• 1-1/2 cups all-purpose flour
• 3-1/2 teaspoons baking powder
  
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 teaspoon sugar
• 1 egg
• 1-1/4 cups milk
• 3 tablespoons of butter, melted
  
• optional handful of semisweet chocolate chips
  

In a large bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, salt and sugar. Make a well in the center and pour in the milk, egg and melted butter; mix until smooth.

Heat a frying pan over medium heat. Butter or spray the pan if you aren't using non-stick. Pour a cupful of batter into the pan. I make big pancakes. Brown on both sides and serve hot. With real maple syrup. None of that fake pancake syrup crap.

He's climbin' in yo window...

Fred says good morning!


There's a lot I need to say. But it's going to have to wait, because I don't have time to talk right now. I will tell you two things though.

1.) Thursday I had a session with my trainer at the gym. Today, I am finally able to lift my arms again.

2.) I made homemade pancakes this morning.

I didn't take any pictures, because we were starving, and I just wanted to get the job done so we could eat. But they were really good. I will post the recipe soon.

For now, though....

I want you to watch this video:



And then I want you to watch this video.

Hi, pumpkin.

It's getting cold. I wouldn't mind it so much if it weren't for this stupid rain. I like rain, but not in October. I already discussed this. It's making me mad. I've accepted the fact that Mother Nature is starting the crap weather early. Everyone including her must be following suit of the retail stores and their early holiday decor, which I also complained about yesterday. Except for this tree. This tree is right outside my living room window.

It continues to hold onto those last few leaves, as though October is going to stick around a bit longer. Just let them go, buddy. Just let them go. It's over. It's cold. You're all wet. I understand how you feel, but just give it up. You're only prolonging the inevitable making it more difficult to accept change.

Look at me. I've put away my sandals and flipflops. I have the snow boots ready to go. In fact, I wore them in the house last night with my long-sleeved henley pajama top. I also wore a winter coat to work. I wore my black marshmallow coat. I was laughed at. Yeah, we'll see who has the last laugh when I'm warm and toasty and you are soaking wet and cold because all you have on is a hoodie and a fleece shell! Jessie!!

I am currently wearing penguin Christmas flannel pajama pants. The pants I actually bought for my husband a few years ago. He has never worn them. I don't understand why. They are manly. I bought them from the Gap. Just because they have penguins on them doesn't mean you can't wear them! I bought them from the MEN'S section. I wish he'd wear them. But I wear them instead.

Since the house is cold, I've decided to warm it up by baking something. And since October is not quite over, I think that this pumpkin bread is extremely appropriate.


That, and it's mighty good. I can't even put it into words. I get excited to use cinnamon and nutmeg.



It's not healthy at all. I have a healthier recipe. It's my vegan recipe. I make it, not to be healthy, but when I am totally out of eggs. I have eggs right now though, so I'll save that for another day.




I'm ready to put two more blankets on my bed. I'm ready to invest in furry slippers so that I don't have to wear my snow boots around the house. I'm ready for chili and broccoli soup and warm apples. Not all together though. I'm totally ready for this bread. And muffins.



Pumpkin Bread with Chocolate Chips.

This makes 1 9x5x4 inch loaf plus 6 giant muffins. Or two loaves. Or 1 loaf and 12 mini muffins.

I had extra and I didn't want to overflow my pan.

• 3 cups all-purpose flour
• 2 teaspoons pumpkin pie spice
  
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 4 eggs
• 2 cups sugar
• 2 cups canned pumpkin (or just a can)
  
• 1-1/2 cups canola oil
• 1-1/2 cups (6 ounces) semisweet chocolate chips

In a large bowl, combine the flour, cinnamon, salt and baking soda. In another bowl, beat the eggs, sugar, pumpkin and oil. Stir into dry ingredients just until moistened. Fold in chocolate chips.

Pour into loaf pans/muffin tins. If you aren't going to use liners, spray the pans first. Unless you're using non-stick. Bake at 350° for 60-70 minutes or until a toothpick inserted near the center comes out clean. Cool for 10 minutes before removing from pans to wire racks.

10.26.10

If you add 10+26+10, you will get 46, and 4+6 is 10.

If you add 10+2+6+10, you will get 28, and 2+8 is 10.

If you add 1+0+2+6+1+0, you will get 10.

If I was some sort of freak, I'd develop a whole conspiracy theory around today's date and the number 10. But I just came up with this in like 2 minutes, and I'm convinced that it means absolutely nothing. Or maybe I could make up some stupid chain letter and talk about how this only happens once in 3,000 years, so make a wish and send this to 10 people and your wish will come true in 10 minutes. And if you don't send it on, you'll gain 10 pounds, lose $10, and be raped by 10 goats as you go out to check the mail tomorrow.

On that note, here are 10 things in 10 minutes.

1.) Today marks Day 2 of Operation Bikini. I spent 30 minutes at the gym with my trainer as she established a baseline for where I'm at. I'm sure watching me attempt tricep dips was hilarious. She's so great for not laughing in my face. OH, and my butt hurts really bad from last night. I realize this sounds bad, but it's because of Spin class. Get your mind out of the gutter.

2.) There is a smoothie shop right next to the escalator as you leave the gym. It's called Smoothie Girl. I want a smoothie. I will do that tomorrow.

3.) I laugh that there is an escalator at my gym. You cannot leave without taking either the escalator or the elevator. Then again...it's pretty nice as you're leaving. The last thing I want to do is walk up stairs when I'm done.

4.) Snow tomorrow. Really? Seriously? Can't it wait? It's not even November yet. Someone is trying to ruin my October. Just give me my 31 days of 50 degrees and dry and overcast. You can rain all you want in November. They even wrote a song about it.

5.) Speaking of things happening too early....Retail stores were already puking out Christmas paraphernalia before October 1st. That makes me sick. Sick. There should be a law sanctioning holiday decorations in that they are not allowed to see the light of day until Daylight Savings Time begins. I'd stretch it to go so far as to say they should not be allowed to display Christmas decor until after Thanksgiving. Doesn't matter anyway. People are going to keep doing it earlier and earlier and earlier. So I have decided that people should begin celebrating my birthday in June.

6.) Speaking of Daylight Savings Time, normally it's around the weekend of my birthday. One year it was even ON my birthday. They still have not implemented it, and at 7:00 this morning, I drove to work in PITCH BLACK. I'm getting upset.

7.) This weather is plotting my demise. I think I am developing an earache. People are going to start to think I am a hypochondriac, and it's totally not my fault.

8.) I really like the reality TV show, Giulianna & Bill. I really like Giulianna. She could eat a sandwich or two though.

9.) I take it personally when people don't agree with me. Unless we're having a formal debate, do not tell me if you do not agree with me. And it would never happen because I'd never engage in a debate because I don't like it when people don't agree with me. This is not open for debate.

10.) I like my cat.

A new nemesis...in the form of a spin bike.

Today marks Day 1 of Operation Bikini. I was inclined to call it Mission: Impossible, but that's a bit self-defeating. And I can't think of anything else to call it at the moment because I am currently drained of all mental and physical energy.

My Monday started out like crap because I woke up with what felt like the onset of a migraine. Mondays are my most hated day (as they are for most people), and starting it off that way was sure to end in disaster. So in an effort to preserve the lives of the innocent and also to stop this thing dead in its tracks, I asked my boss if I could leave work early and take a sick day. I'm so happy she let me because I really needed it. I rarely get sick to the point where I have to go home. I think the last time was in August and that's because I lost the baby, and I think that was pretty understandable. There was another time within the past couple of months where I had the worst head cold/sinus thing of my life and I think I ended up using some sick time as well. I'm so thankful that it's there if I need it, and I can't understand why someone people would want to abuse that type of resource. In any case...I went home and went to bed. I slept a lot. Most of the afternoon actually. I woke up and felt a little better. Not great, but better. My laundry is out of control. So I went and did some laundry.

I decided against my better judgment that since I was feeling a little better, I should go ahead and attend the Spin class that I had planned on. Exercise makes you feel better sometimes, so I hear. Additionally, it's a bad habit of mine to use "not feeling well" as an excuse to not exercise, and all that has awarded me are ham-like arms and a stomach made of flab. It has to go. Plus, a friend/former co-worker of mine from my previous job said it would be so much fun to go together, and I didn't want to stand her up.

Well. For starters, my friend totally bailed on me. I'm not going to hold it against her though because I'm sure she had a good reason. I'm going to the gym for me anyway, not anyone else. If anything, this totally forced me to go, and I'm glad I went. I died though.

I attended a Spin class years ago. My first and last time. It was a nightmare. I went with my mom when we were members of a different health club. They turn off all of the lights and have black lights so you can't see anyone. Every so often though, the strobe light would flash and I'd get a glimpse of her face. She looked like she was drowning. Her hair was stuck to her face and she looked like she was in agony. Then I realized I was looking in a mirror. I did locate my mom though, and she looked like I felt. I wanted to die. After the class, I realized that you can adjust the tension on your bike (which apparently you are supposed to do based on your level), and mine was on a medium-high setting. I was so angry, and the seat was really hard and left bruising in areas I can't discuss. That was the end of Spin.

It has literally been 8 years since that fateful day, and I have returned to try again. Different health club, but same type of thing. I walked in and found the bike with what appeared to be the most padded seat. The lights were off. The walls were painted black and silver and they had black lights here and there. I'm really glad the lights were off. I definitely don't want anyone to see me making the faces I was making. So I figured out how to adjust my seat height and the instructor showed me how to adjust the tension on my bike. Once I figured out how to get my feet in the stirrups, I was ready.

The techno music started. The instructor was up front on her own bike yelling a bunch of stuff. Alright. I couldn't understand her, but that's okay. It was fine for the first 10 minutes, and then the warm-up was over. I really wanted to push myself and get something out of it. There is nothing worse than killing yourself and not reaping any benefits. So I kept up with all of the things she was doing...for like 20 minutes. Then I realized that there was still another 30 minutes left, and my legs were on fire and there was nothing I could do. I'm glad the music was so loud. I think they do that so that they can't hear anyone moaning and swearing. I said the f-word a lot. I don't usually swear either. I also moaned in agony, constantly. There is no way anyone could hear me because Fatboy Slim was much too loud to hear anything other than "the funk soul brother" over and over and over again. I honestly don't think I've ever cried out so much in agony. I really don't know what else to say.

Seriously, the class murdered me and my butt feels like it is bruised. Again. Just like before. Even with a padded seat. I brought this to the instructor's attention and she told me that it's "normal for your bum to hurt if you aren't used to the bikes, but after a while it doesn't hurt anymore." Yeah, know why? Because it becomes numb. You probably develop scar tissue or something. I can't even talk about this. I'm pretty sure that the reason the seats hurt so bad is so that you are encouraged to stand on your bike the whole time...which is what I did. But sometimes I had to sit down, so now I have a bruised butt and thighs that feel like Jell-o. I almost fell on my face in the parking lot as I was walking out to my car because I couldn't feel my legs anymore. And my headache came back, too. Probably because I didn't drink any water today. That was really stupid of me.

After everything was done, the instructor came up to me and asked me how I liked it. She also told me that I did a good job. Maybe that's what they say to the people who look like they are about to fall over. I told her I enjoyed it and that I was really happy. At that point, I was just happy that it was over.

So it sounds like I pretty much hate Spin class. Which I do. And the only way for me to get past this is to keep going until it becomes enjoyable. I'm not going to let Spin class get the better of me. I'm going to battle Spin class at least twice a week. I think that this punishment is well deserved for how I've let myself go, and the only way to get my cute body back is to get rid of what's hiding it. The fat has to die. And dying is painful. Burning 500+ calories in less than an hour hurts really bad and it makes me never want to eat ice cream again.

Tomorrow is Tuesday. I'm meeting with my personal trainer at 4:30 so she can join forces with Spin class in killing me. Then I'm going to attend a class called Butts & Guts taught by the girl who taught the Spin class tonight. Sweet. If doing this consistently yields no results over time, I will absolutely give up. It has to work. There's just no way it can't. I also went to the grocery store yesterday and filled our kitchen with healthy food. I can't justify working this hard and then undoing it all in 10 minutes with a jar of Nutella.

The Roaring Twenties

The Roaring Twenties is a phrase used to describe the 1920s in North America, Paris, London, and Berlin. The phrase was meant to emphasize the period's social, artistic, and cultural dynamism. Then the Wall Street Crash of 1929 punctuated the end of the era, as the Great Depression set in. The era was further distinguished by several inventions and discoveries of far-reaching importance, unprecedented industrial growth, accelerated consumer demand and aspirations, and significant changes in lifestyle.

Thanks, Wikipedia. I just plagiarized you. Actually, no I didn't - since I am now giving you credit.

I have a point. I just figured this out, too. I wanted to talk about how today is my birthday. But nobody really cares much about birthdays once you hit a certain age, and now, as an adult in my late 20s, I need to find a way to remind myself that life is still really sweet. This might sound stupid, but getting older is different for a girl than it is for a guy. I'm not going so far as to complain about how I'm getting old, because I know I'm not old, based on my older friends telling me to shut up about it because I haven't hit 30 yet, nor have I hit 40. And if I complain about every birthday, pretty soon I WILL actually be old and realize that I never enjoyed being young since I was so concerned about being old.

I like to compare myself at this point, to one of the greatest decades of all time.

In 1920, Prohibition began in the United States. When I turned 20, I just couldn't bear having to wait another year before I was able to get into bars with all of my friends. Being someone who graduated high school a year earlier than normal, I was always at least a year younger than my friends. When I was 20, I made my first and last attempt at using a fake ID to enter a bar. It was a failed attempt. It was one of the worst fake IDs I had ever seen, and it was super embarrassing when the guy kept the ID and wouldn't let me inside.

Here's a picture of me when I was 20. I had a pierced tongue and wore a lot of eye shadow. That's my mom.


In 1921, the lie detector was invented. You didn't know that? Neither did I, until recently. When I turned 21, I went nuts. I drank entirely too much and acted like a complete douche. I went out all of the time and kissed a lot of boys, and skipped class because of my constant hangover. I also associated with a lot of horrible people and dated a lot of horrible guys who lied to me 99% of the time. To be honest, it was a pretty stupid year.


In 1922, King Tut's tomb was discovered. When I was 22, I discovered that my ex-boyfriend had robbed my apartment after I dumped him. I also discovered Las Vegas in my effort to turn a new leaf. I also discovered my [future] husband in Las Vegas.


In 1923, talking movies were invented! I love movies. When I was 23, I became more serious with [future] husband. I also scored a sweet job and was able to pay off all of my credit cards. Also went back to finish school. Score.

In 1924, nothing exciting really happened as far as I'm concerned. Nothing exciting happened in my life, either. Oh wait, my husband asked me to marry him. I said yes, of course. I guess that's pretty exciting.


In 1925, Hitler published Mein Kampf. Flapper dresses were also in style. When i was 25, got married. Hooray!


In 1926, nothing good happened that I can think of. When I was 26, I graduated from college, which was good. Finally. But then the rest of the year sucked. My nana died, which ruined me, and quite honestly, I'm still not over it. I don't think I ever will be. I miss her every day. A lot of people I knew died that year. It was a really crappy year, truthfully.

In 1927, Babe Ruth hit a home run record. I don't really care about baseball. I think someone also flew across the ocean. I don't know. When I was 27, some good and some bad things happened. My grandpa died, creating a new wound and pouring salt on the wound I still had from when my nana died. That sucked. On another end, I scored a really sweet job which I love. And then my family had to sell the lake house, which has been in the family for 50+ years and was my only connection to my grandparents. Sad. And then I got pregnant. Yay! And then I lost my baby. Sad. So I don't know. It was a good year, and a really horrible year at the same time. It was a bipolar year. I'm really trying to focus on the good. The good is supposed to outweigh the bad. Maybe that's why I cried on my 27th birthday. Maybe my mood was a foreshadowing of things to come.

Okay. So here I am today. My husband got me some sweet new boots. I'm not able to wear them yet because there isn't snow on the ground. I hate snow. But at least when it snows, I have these boots to wear. Aside from getting to wear these new boots, I wonder what will happen to me this year. Will something good happen with work? Will I have a baby? Or will I get hot and skinny? Well, either way I have these boots. I'm pretty excited about them. What boots, you might wonder? I haven't taken a picture of them yet. But having to deal with cold, Wisconsin winters, you need something that will keep your feet warm when you are forced to help shovel your parents driveway or you have to go to the mailbox or to the grocery store late at night for Oreos. The Ugg Adirondack II boots are the best boots ever, because not only are they functional, but super cute. I mean, come on. I love Uggs. I don't care what people say. I have a pink pair and a gray pair of Ugg sweater boots, along with the black classic tall boots. But they aren't waterproof. These are.
What happened in 1928? They invented bubblegum. And Mickey Mouse. And sliced bread. And Penicillin. Great things.

Last year all I did for my birthday was complain about how I was 27 and old. Well now I'm 28 and I am bound and determined to enjoy the fact that I am still in my 20s. I'm going to plow through my 20s with a vengeance accompanied by exercising like a mad woman, baking yummy unhealthy food, and spending lots of time with all of my favorite people. I have a year before I have to face the Crash of 29 followed by the Great Depression that comes with being 30.

This will be a good year.

U is for Underwhelmed.

I was at Border's yesterday with my husband. We saw this funny book on an end cap:


Of course, I bought it.

I flipped to the section that talked about the region I live in. Har har! I told my husband that we definitely had to make this mini excursion. And we had to do it on Friday since I was taking the day off. Fast forward to today. Hooray! It has been a little while since we did anything stupid.

We decided to find a couple of the places closest to where we lived and not venture out too far, mainly because it is day 3 of my period and all I have are the light absorbency tampons. Guess who gets to go to the store for me later?! I refuse to go out in public feeling like crap. So really, we only had about an hour TOPS that we could be out before I had to get home and change my battery. Too gross for you? You must be a guy. Sorry. I'll stop talking about it.

Anyway, off we went. We had breakfast with my parents first though. We bought them breakfast at this Bohemian place. They always buy us food, so we decided to buy them eggs and pancakes. I was telling my dad about our idea. He thought it was funny. He mentioned a cemetery here in town that he used to run around in as a kid and get scared. So we decided to hit that up first. I'm all about old, dead things. I think cemeteries are neat though. I like looking at old grave stones.

Enter Forest Hill Cemetery! Oh, scary! [insert scary music here]

I don't know much about this cemetery other than the fact that it's big, old, and up on the East hill. I took some pictures of some gravestones because they had the Masonic symbol and an upside-down pentagram engraved.


I get that the inverted pentagram is used as a symbol for Freemasonry, referring to it as the Order of the Eastern Star, based on teachings from the Bible. But this creeps me out. It's also the symbol of Anton Lavey's Church of Satan. And it's common knowledge that this is a creepy symbol. Okay, gross. I don't want that on my headstone.

Here's a doctor who was also a Freemason.


Here are some more interesting headstones I took pictures of.

This is made of limestone. You could literally see it wearing away. If you rub your finger on it, it would crumble. No wonder they use marble or granite now.

Here are some, in order from the top: A creepy broken head stone, a head stone sinking into the ground, a neat tree-looking thing with an anchor, a creepy mausoleum, and a creepy locked up chapel with a floating orb.


Moving on, we referred to The Wisconsin Road Guide to Haunted Locations and headed to Caryville.

From Eau Claire, take Clairemont Ave to County Hwy E going west. Turn left on 890th Street, right on 260th Street, left on 240th Street. Enter Sand Hill Cemetery. This place was supposedly featured on Unsolved Mysteries. Ghosts of children have been observed running around. Blah blah. We saw nothing. It looks like it's a family plot. Everyone has the same name. There are some child graves. Kind of sad really, not scary. There were some mosquitoes. It was at the top of a hill. I made it black and white for you.


Onward down the hill to the Meridean boat landing. I guess this is supposed to be haunted, too. Highly doubtful. Looks like someone had a party or something. My husband also peed somewhere.


Further down the road is some haunted school house. There was a farmer in the field next to it using a combine to plow his field. Not haunted. But I made it black and white for you anyway.


See, everything is scary in black & white! I'll show you.

Alpaca in color....


And alpaca in black & white!! TERRIFYING!!

Children of the corn [maze]

I like apple orchards.


And corndogs.


And corn mazes.


And wooly bear caterpillars.


And this hilarious coincidence of a crossroad.


I love fall and everything about it. I think it's unfair that it only lasts a couple of months.

We bought 1/2 peck of Cortland apples....my favorite. They aren't the most popular and that's fine with me. That means they are cheaper. We can get a 1/2 peck of Cortlands for $7, whereas that same amount of Honeycrisp is like $10. I like Honeycrisp, but not that much. Cortlands are better, IMO. They are almost purple on the outside and white on the inside and mild and happy.


Yes. I took a huge bite out of it. I have a big mouth.

So Fall, being the season of change, I'm going to do something for myself. October is a good month. Good things happen to me in October; however, what I had anticipated for October did not happen. I did not get the position at work that I aimed for and I did not get pregnant. Which is fine. I'm not concerned about work. That will happen eventually and I've come to terms with it and made peace with it. I love my job, and there will be a place for me there; maybe just not when I wanted. It's okay. As far as the pregnancy thing...I'm letting that go as well. The whole thing annoys me. You spend your entire life trying to prevent it from happening and then when you actually want it to happen, it doesn't happen. So forget it. I'm sick of hoping to get pregnant, all the while attributing every single symptom I have to a possible pregnancy symptom, only to take a test and have it give me a big fat no. So I'm going to stop trying. I am, however, going to do something else which I know will show me results in some way, shape, or form.

I joined a gym today. Not like I have never joined a gym, but it has been a while since I was an active member of a gym. I'm also hiring a personal trainer to work with twice a week. I'm going to get skinny while all of my pregnant friends get fat. So take that all of you. Yes, my day will come, but for now, I'm going to just focus on myself and my waistline. Perhaps by this time next year I'll have Jennifer Aniston's body. Well, probably not. We're the same height though. She probably has a smaller bone structure than me. Whatever. I'm going to look cute in a bikini. Then after that if I get pregnant, I'll have a cute pregnant body and I can wear a tight shirt that says "I ate a baby" and people will know that I'm pregnant and did not actually eat a baby. If I wore that now, people would give me dirty looks and actually believe that I ate one. When really, I didn't. I just don't exercise and I like cookies.

So, we'll see how that goes. I'm not going to talk about how I'm going to lose all this weight because that just sets me up for failure. Then in 6 months I'll have to embarrassingly admit that I haven't lost any weight, have only gone to the gym 4 times (all within the first week of my membership), and that my fat pants are tight. But I did spring for the $38/month, so it would be a huge waste of money if I didn't go a few times a week. Even if it's just to go on a machine for 30 minutes. Plus, every machine there has a built-in plasma tv with expanded basic which means I can watch any and all of my favorite tv shows instead of contemplating ways to end my own life while I'm suffering on the elliptical.

The elliptical and I have a love-hate relationship. More like a hate-hate relationship. I can't even talk about it. It hurts me from the inside out. The treadmill is worse though, truthfully. That thing is dangerous. I seriously fell off of it once. I was 21 and being trained by this Nazi named Rebecca. She was so amazing and she made me skinny. She seriously did. She put me on this diet of only apples and water and I lost like 75 pounds. So she has me running sprints on this treadmill, and then she kept it on level 8. I noticed all at once that my right shoe was untied and I was developing a shin splint. I couldn't breathe but I needed her to lower the speed. I was too disoriented to do it myself. I begged with her to make it stop and she was all, "No, keep going!!" I tried, I really did, but I ended up blacking out. I fell, hit my chin on the handlebar, then scraped my face on the belt and ripped my pants. Oh yes. I did. I ended up on my back on the floor and the treadmill was still going at level 8. There was a muscular guy with a ripped tank top and small head who stopped drinking from his BPA-free water bottle long enough to look at me and raise his eyebrows. Then he scratched his left pectoral muscle. I noticed his nipple was pierced. Then he just walked away. It was humilating.

These days, having gained all of that weight back plus some (yeah, I'm not exaggerating), I find it safer to go on the elliptical. No impact. No risk of losing control and having the machine throw me off of it. And I think I burn more calories too.

I'm NOT proud of the fact that I've gotten fat. I've always been sort of chubby but I am pretty sure this is the worst ever. I am able to talk about it because I don't totally hate myself. It's entirely within my control to change it. So I'm going to. I will not, however, take it upon myself to post pictures. Are you kidding me? My friends know what I look like. They won't judge me. They'll even go so far as to tell me I look nice. I know they mean well, and they probably are being honest. I just really don't think I look nice. A size [insert my secret size here] is not nice. And if women twice my age can look better than me, women who have had children and divorces and midlife crisis, then I can certainly look good, too. And I will.

Adapting

People tend to forget that people are just like wild animals. Some in more ways that others. But I won't get into that.

We are, however, a lot like animals in that we find a way to adapt to our surroundings if we're unhappy. We do this in a number of ways. We buy different clothes (like warmer clothes for a colder climate), or we spray tan and get fake boobs (like people who move to New Jersey), or we acquire things to make us fit in better. Like rich people in nice houses and how they have to complete the picture by having a fancy dog out in their driveway. It's part of being an American, having a loyal canine companion as part of your family. Like this family. I don't know this family. All I know is that I walk by their house - a LOT - and I see this dog every day. Their home would not be complete without this dog. How does this dog stay clean? How does it not get cold in the winter since it has no hair covering its butt? I'm sure it finds a way to adapt.


That kind of dog would look out of place at my house. Instead, I have a dog who destroys the garden and thinks he is a duck.


I'm constantly trying to adapt to renting. I know that someday my husband and I will own a house and I can do whatever I want to it. But for now, we are renting. Don't get me wrong - it's not bad. It's a cute townhouse in a nice part of town. But there are things I hate. One, the carpet. It's gross. And there's nothing I can do about it. I am going to call one of those carpet cleaning places and have them come in and steam clean it so it will feel better, but that's about all I can do. If it were up to me, I'd have wood flooring installed. I don't like the linoleum in the kitchen/dining room either. I have to find a big area rug for the dining room. For now, I have adapted by putting a sweet bamboo floor mat down in my kitchen:


My bathroom upstairs is nicer than it was before we moved in. It was so gross, the whole thing had to be gutted and renovated. It's clean and has new flooring, a new mirror, and a whole new tub/shower. It's great for a rental. But still kind of screwed up. The floor is not level, for one thing. I can tell. The toilet isn't centered the way it should be. It's between the vanity and the tub, and I didn't realize that until I spent forever trying to center the two pictures I was trying to hang above it. I finally got those centered on the wall only to notice that the toilet was totally out of place. And it's not like I can move the toilet. I was angry, but I got over it.

Whoever installed the shower really didn't do the best job. Cosmetically, there are things that just aren't right. Take a look. That wood trim on the side? What's the point? Yes, there are two curtain rods. There is a reason, which I will get to shortly. The lower curtain rod is fixed there permanently. You can't move it or anything, which is fine. But the whole thing seriously looks stupid with that wood trim just stuck there. They could have either not put it there or made it go up to the ceiling. I don't know. It makes me angry.

Here's a full view of the bathroom.


I needed to do something to fix it. It made me feel uneasy. I want to feel relaxed and happy when I go in there. It needs to feel spacious. I needed to adapt in order to like my bathroom. And since I'm renting, it's not like I can rip anything off the wall or remodel it.

So I went and got one of those pressure shower curtain rods and put it up on top. It was really fun trying to get it up there while balancing on the toilet and the side of the tub. See?


Then, I purchased an extra-long shower curtain...one that would go from the floor all the way to the ceiling. It made things much better. I think it will be even better once the steam from the shower makes the wrinkles go away.


Now I don't notice that stupid wood trim anymore. It feels a lot better. I wish that the counter top and toilet weren't that gross taupe color. I'll have to find a way to adapt to that as well.

Walks

I didn't feel good today. I was fine for the first half of the day but then the afternoon brought with it a wave of nausea that didn't go away until I got home and ate a grilled cheese sandwich. I don't know how that helped. I still don't feel great.

Today at work I went for a walk on a break with my co-worker, Jessie. Here are some things that I took pictures of:

Why were these pots outside in a row by a random house? And what about the cooler? FYI, it has been there for days now.


Do you think this is smart advertising? I don't. It was in a bathroom stall at a cafe. I think it's stupid and I wouldn't want to live there, simply because of this flyer.


Today, I also bubble-wrapped a co-worker's cubicle. It's what he deserves for taking the permanent position that I wanted! I also stole his palm tree!!


Just kidding. I really didn't steal anything. I just rolled it to the other side of the room.

Speaking of plants, Jessie watered The Plant and placed it on the window sill to get some light. Then when nobody was looking, it attempted suicide.


It's in a safer place now.


I'm a bit sad that The Plant has lost hope and felt that the only answer was to put itself out of its misery. It has so much to live for yet. Sure, it has some sort of plant leprosy. But we're working on that. It's going to be okay.

Don't give up.