thanks for running over my dad with your car.

Look at this nice old man.


Did you know that the Japanese government requires people age 75 and older to measure their cognitive level in order to reduce the number of accidents on the road involving old people? This test includes the following:


Elderly drivers will first be asked to write down the date and time. They are then shown 16 illustrations, for example of animals, for a short time and asked to describe in writing what they have seen. They will also be asked to draw a picture of a clock indicating a particular time.

Once they have passed that test, they have to sit through an hour and a half lecture about safe driving.


Driving is a privilege, not a right. Someday, your time will come when you are not capable of controlling your death machine and you need to get off of the road, forever. At least as a driver.


Which leads me to my next point.

My dad was hit by a car yesterday. In the parking lot of a home improvement store. While he was walking to his car. By what? By an elderly couple in a Ford Taurus backing out of a handicapped parking spot. As they backed into my dad, my dad jumped out of the way. Good thing too, because the old driver kept backing up for another three feet. If he had knocked my dad over, he probably would have turned him into a speed bump. The old guy stopped abruptly, looked in his mirrors....his old wife looked around. Neither one of them got out of the car...then they just drove away. What is this? A low impact hit & run? My dad followed them...quite possibly on foot...across the parking lot to Target where he observed them park their car and slowly hold up traffic as they walked inside. Probably to buy soup and bananas. He didn't have the heart to confront them in Target. That, and he really wanted to get home and eat dinner. So he took down their license plate number and went home. My mom was really upset when she found out that he handled it that way. So they called the police. The police have identified these geriatric vehicular offenders. Apparently they are from another town way up north. Must be visiting their grandkids or something. Anyway, my dad has to press charges against them for the hit and run (well, the old guy anyway) - not in order to sue him or anything, but to get his license revoked and get him off the road. It sounds mean, but who else does grandpa have to run over with his Taurus before someone REALLY gets hurt? What if it was a little kid? My dad is fine, although his hip was hurting a bit. He went to the chiropractor though and it's all good.

I was angry when I found out about this happening. Partly because I found out on Facebook, but also partly because it's ridiculous. I was fuming over it on my way to work this morning when some old lady stole my right of way at a 4-way stop. It angered me. I followed her for an entire block while leaning on my horn. It's okay, it's not like she heard me anyway. She was probably on her way to church. Yes, it's a Thursday, but that seems to be what many old ladies do early in the morning every day of the week.

I miss my grandparents.

Once, long ago, my dad accidentally ran my brother over with the family sedan. We were pulling into the driveway. We had one of those sloped curbs that you drive over. My brother was excited to get home, so he opened up the door as we were still moving. He smacked the top of his head in the doorway and fell out of the car and my dad ran over his legs. I yelled at my dad to stop, so he did, but he happened to be right on top of my brother's legs. It sucked pretty bad, but he was fine.

Look, aww.


This is what he looks like now though.



I think he looks the same. :)

I hit a turkey once. It actually it me. It flew into my wind shield. It was pretty traumatizing. I was lucky that my window wasn't smashed. Probably because first it hit my right front fender, then slide up the hood and hit the windshield as it was headed straight for my face. Then it slid up and hit the top of my car and bounced off of something. My sun roof was open and a whole bunch of feathers appeared, flying around as I was screaming in terror. I don't know what happened to the turkey. I believe he was maimed by my car, but I never found him. I was lucky.

I could go on and on. I have a lot of stories from my personal life that involve people getting run over by vehicles. But I need to stop. I just made really great hot chocolate. It's snowing. There's a lot I can say about that 4-letter S-word but I'll save that for another day.

"It's called steroids."

I remember once complaining to my husband about the pain I have the day after working out. I know it's a good thing because my muscles (or lack of right now) are not used to it. They're working hard and it's going to hurt the next day. But then the day after that it's a bit better once they've recovered. It just sucks, because in the meantime it's not like I can lay around and take a break until it feels better. It would be so much better for them to just take less time to recover. I told my husband that I wish they made some sort of pill or supplement that I could take that would make my muscles recover a lot faster so I could work out more in a shorter amount of time. He was like, "They do have something like that. They're called steroids, and they're illegal."

Oh.

I decided to partake in Spin class for a second time. Yeah, I didn't go to it anymore last week. The butt trauma I experienced was too much do it again in the same week. I couldn't. I did other things that turned out to be just as traumatic to my butt in different ways. Squats?? Don't even talk to me. But I went today. Despite the massive amount of squats I did yesterday. Seriously, just when I think I can't feel worse, I do something more and it hurts more.

Monday I did pilates and yesterday I wanted to die because of it. But then I met with my trainer and spent 30 minutes in hell doing squats in between other pain-inducing exercises. Today I am in more pain than yesterday. And what do I do? I go to spin class and bike up a bunch of hills and through a bunch of imaginary sand. Prior to Spin class today, I was at work and complained all day to Jessie how it hurt to sit and to move. I went to the bathroom at one point and had trouble getting off of the toilet. Yeah, laugh now. We'll see who is laughing when I can bounce a quarter off of my left butt cheek. But for now, my butt feels indescribably ruined. So do my thighs and hamstrings. That seat on the spin bike can suck it, along with the supposedly padded seat which doesn't feel padded at all. I survived though. At one point I drank some water and was so disoriented that I choked on my water and almost drowned. While riding a stationary bike. The instructor actually got off of her bike to come check on me. I told her I was fine and that I was drowning but it would be okay. She was like, "GREAT!! GOOD JOB!!!!"

Thanks. Yes, I am proud of myself as well.

I’ve noticed that, when working out, people always wear shorts or a t-shirt from the last organized league they played in. The huge guy doing squats has his college lacrosse shorts on. And the dude in the corner with his middle school tennis shirt on, well, you know he hasn’t worked out in a while. I wear my high school junior year prom committee shirt. I don't know what this says about me.

I did take it upon myself to go to Smoothie Girl afterward though. That was not bad. Kind of pricey, but now I don't have to eat dinner. I had a banana chocolate peanut butter smoothie with protein. I know what you are thinking, but it didn't undo my workout. It was healthy and good. I watched her make it. No junk. Just a banana and some other crap.

And finally, I have this irrational fear that I have to talk about. I face it every day when I leave the gym. As I am going up the escalator, I fear that I will lose my balance (because I am tired and disoriented) and fall down. If that should happen, because the escalator is going up, I would just keep falling forever and ever, like a never ending death stair treadmill. I wonder if I am the only one who has this fear. It's valid.

sounds like a country song.

Tell me...which one of these is NOT a real country song?

1.) You Stuck My Heart In a Old Tin Can and Shot It Off a Log
2.) How Can I Miss You When You Won’t Go Away?
3.) I Feel Like I've Been Hit by a Truck
4.) I Changed Her Oil, She Changed My Life
5.) I’ve Got The Hungries For Your Love and I’m Waiting In Your Welfare Line

I'll give you one hint. It describes how I feel right now.

If you are still guessing, then I'll tell you that the answer is #3. The last thing I want is for people to think that my love life is falling apart or that I've met a new man in the welfare line.

Today is the day after pilates. I'm in pain. Pain! There are stomach muscles that hurt that I didn't know even existed. I can't wait until the fat pillow is gone and I can see what they look like. Despite the pain, I went to the gym again. I sort of had to because I was meeting with my trainer at 4:30 and you can't really cancel those appointments. She must think I really enjoy squats. Either that, or she likes to hurt people. Or maybe she's just really trying to make sure I get the most out of the workout. My butt hurts. The insides of my knees hurt. I didn't know there were muscles there but I was wrong. My hamstrings hurt. My stomach hurts. My boobs hurt. My thighs hurt. My hips hurt. My sides hurt. It is pretty amazing. It's like there's some sort of fat battle going on.

I come home from an amazing workout to find that my husband has made me a cake. A cake? He wanted to make me a birthday cake. I appreciate the cake but I wish he had made the cake before Operation Bikini commenced. I can't not eat it because he made it for me and he doesn't know how to bake and this was really cute of him. Maybe I'll eat one piece and freeze the rest. I don't know. This is too much pressure. I can't talk about it.

I found out one of the supervisors I work with attends spinning class on Wednesday nights. Sweet. I will go with her. Maybe we can bond over the agony that is brought on by the spin bike. Then if I ever end up working directly under her, she'll love me the most because we share a special spin bike bond. These are things I ponder.

I was talking to my friend Nicole over e-mail today and we touched on a topic regarding the common misuse of 'loose' vs. 'lose.' People don't know how to spell and it's annoying. I told her that I thought the funniest typo EVER was "abou tit." Then I told her that I hope I never loose her as a friend. Her response?

"I hope I never loose you as a friend either. Writing is stupid. I don't know why we even have to learn abou tit."

We didn't win Saturday's Powerball. And I was so sure we would, too. I am a very realistic person.

I am glad that the election is over. I can't watch TV, answer my door/phone, or walk down the street without being bombarded by election propaganda. I was watching TV last night and thought I was watching a preview for a new episode of Law & Order, but it was just another political ad for Sean Duffy running for congress.

My coworker brought in a basket full of non-perishable Thai food. She acquired it when some people from Thailand were staying with her temporarily and they left it all there when they went home. She doesn't know how to cook with it so she was just going to throw it away if nobody took it. I took some stuff. Half of it is all in Thai and I don't know what it is or what to do with it. I'm excited.

I have been informed that my cat has just puked. Great. If I was hungry, I am not now.

pilates....

.....SUCKED. And not because it was hard. The instructor just flew through everything as if she wanted to just get the beginner's class over and move on to the intermediate. Thanks, lady!

A couple of years when I was going to this gym, they had a younger instructor who was super cool and actually taught the class like a beginner's class...because that's what it is. Meaning, she explained things and didn't fly through it. This other lady, although nice, was pretty disappointing. Not everyone is up to an advanced level (i.e., me), and I don't think it's fair for her to assume everyone is. Maybe if the class was in fact an intermediate class - but it wasn't. On top of that, the floors were hard wood waxed floors and my mat kept sliding all over the place. I looked like a fish flopping around on shore after having been stranded by the tide. It's okay though. I don't know if I will go again. I think I'm going to try something else. Additionally, the lights were off (fine, good) and there were candles lit everywhere. I question the safety of this simply because there was no ventilation in the room. I don't know if my light-headedness after the class was due to actual exhaustion or carbon monoxide inhalation. Only time will tell.

In other news, I came home grumpy and got mad at my husband who was currently in the middle of plunging the toilet upstairs that he had shat shut. Yes. Shat shut. I was mad because he pooped in the upstairs bathroom...the bathroom that has the bathtub and shower. The bathroom that I have spent time trying to make relaxing and nice. He could have pooped in the bathroom downstairs. You know, the one with the cat box in it. I know that my poop stinks too but his is worse. It must be a man thing. Man poop smells like poopy sweaty hairy butt. I don't like it. And I wanted to take a shower and couldn't because the bathroom smelled like a dead poopy corpse had recently been exhumed. I told him he couldn't poop up there anymore. Now that I think about it, I think I was a bit harsh. Who am I to tell him what bathroom to poop in? Not everyone even has more than one bathroom, so if we only had the one, where would he poop? I was a bit extreme. Maybe I will ask him to just not poop in there before I shower. How was he supposed to know I was going to shower? It's not like he can read minds. But I can read minds, so why can't he?! He needs to learn.

So back to the gym...after pilates, I went on some machine. Sort of like an elliptical, but better. I forgot my headphones, so it was 30 minutes of people watching while I died. Actually, it was quite relaxing despite how hard it was. Kind of hard to explain. So here are some things I saw today:

1.) An old man with a hunchback who can row more weight than I can.

2.) A girl who looked (and smelled) as though she showered and primped herself BEFORE coming to the gym. Seriously. She had a perfect outfit and perfect hair and makeup. All so she could go on the treadmill. I don't get it. If I did that to my face before exercising, I'd look like that guy from The Crow after about 10 minutes.

3.) Two girls who were doing synchronized plank/push-things. I don't get it. Why couldn't they go to the stretch room to do it? They did it right in the middle of the cardio floor and it was awkward. It was like they wanted people to watch them.

4.) A guy who, for 30 minutes, just walked back and forth puffing his chest out like some game bird trying to attract a mate. Like this one.

He was wearing a tight blue sleeveless Under Armour shirt and I could see his nipples and it looked gross. He wasn't even working out. He was literally just walking around the gym. I don't even think he was talking to anyone. He was carrying a towel around and a water bottle and during this time he drank all of his water. I don't know what the point was.

There were other things I saw, but I need to go and watch the Style channel now. I also have to figure out what I am going to eat. I've mentioned this before but I'm terrified to eat anything bad that would be counter productive to my efforts in losing weight. Especially after killing myself for an hour. I made brown rice. I don't know what to eat it with.

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.