Virtual Coffee: Inadvertently Bitter Edition

Here's the Virtual Coffee badge:









Here's a button for Amy, the host of Virtual Coffee:


I did my introduction in badge form because I'm in a hurry.  Plus the badges are cute.

Hi, welcome to Virtual Coffee today. 

First off, my obligatory discussion of the coffee I'm drinking.  Today I'm trying Green Mountain Coffee breakfast blend K-cups for the first time.  I usually drink the Caribou Coffee ones from Costco, but yesterday I used my last one and didn't feel like going all the way to Costco, so I had to get K-cups at Bed Bath & Beyond (well, I didn't have to, but I had one of their many, many, many coupons), and they don't carry the Caribou ones. 

I am actually super-duper frustrated with my Keurig right now.  It only brews an ounce or two of coffee at a time, so I have to keep restarting it to brew an entire cup.  I Googled "Keurig only brews a few ounces" and many people said they had fixed the problem by hitting the machine.  That sounded awesome.  But unfortunately I hit away and nothing happened.  Katie suggested that I run the machine through with no K-cup, just to rinse it out with hot water.  She said that's what the Keurig brochure said to do.  Unfortunately I tried it and it didn't solve the problem, but I am super impressed that she would even read the brochure that came with the machine.  I never read the directions unless I absolutely have to.  Oh, and if I had any freaking clue where the directions/receipt/original packaging are, I might be able to check if the machine is still under warranty, and possibly get it replaced.  But instead I'll probably just go and buy a new one, even though the first one didn't really work out for me, because that's the kind of dumb consumer I am.

In other "broken things" news, my iTunes account has somehow been frozen and the password doesn't work, even after I reset it.  I called iTunes to fix the problem, and they just straight-up blow you off ("Please visit our website.  Thank you for calling.  Goodbye. [CLICK]") if your iPod is more than 90 days old.  Mine is more than 90 days old, and also has gum from my purse stuck to it. 

I think you're starting to see how awesome I am at breaking and ruining stuff. 

Anyway, so I am in email conversations with the iTunes tech support people, who said it might take several days to fix the problem, which is frustrating because I'm pretty sure I'm going to want to download the Glee original songs featured on tonight's season finale. 

In less gripey news, I did successfully make it to my 5:30 a.m. swimming engagement today.  I can't believe that in high school I swam at 5:30 a.m. in an outdoor pool.  (Granted it was in Southern California, but even in SoCal it can be a little chilly at 5:30 a.m.)  I was pretty exhausted this morning because I went to Spin class yesterday.  Now, in the world of exercise, there are some good kinds of exhausted.  There's that feeling of tired serenity after a workout.  And there is that powerful feeling when you're tired during a workout, but dammit, you're gonna bring it the f**k on, because you are a powerful warrior and you are kicking that pool's ass.  Today's exhaustion was none of that.  Today's exhaustion was more like the kind where I had to picture my bed sitting on the pool deck to motivate me to keep swimming toward the wall. 

But that's done, and now I can feel all smug for the rest of the day knowing that I am done working out. 

(P.S. Obligatory Weight Watchers update: Lost 2.2 pounds at yesterday's weigh-in, despite some bad moments involving cookies.  That brings my total up to 24 pounds lost, or about a third of what I want to lose.) 

Today I'm excited to be spending Nathan's preschool hours ... going to the grocery store and getting an eyebrow wax.  No, but after that I am going to buckle down and start writing my emcee script for the Beatles tribute show I'm participating in this summer for community theater.  I got the song list yesterday, and the first show is June 4, so yay! 

I'm also excited because I was contacted yesterday by the people at BBC radio in the UK about being a call-in guest to talk about the subject of Gender Reveal Parties.  In case you haven't heard about this trend, it goes as follows: (1) Expectant couple goes for 20-week ultrasound and asks ultrasound tech to write the sex of the unborn baby on a sheet of paper and seal it in an envelope, (2) Couple takes envelope to baker and asks baker to dye cake batter either pink or blue, then frost the cake in a neutral color, (3) Couple forces family and friends to endure pointless party, the culmination of which is the cutting of the cake to reveal the sex of the unborn child.  As you can see, I'm not so much an "expert" on this custom so much as I am a giant hater/mocker of the concept, which I see as silly, self-centered, pointless, and a little bit hard on your friends who have recently experienced miscarriage or infertility.  Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself, because I wrote a post about this trend back in my Chicago Moms Blog days, and the BBC people found it and asked me to be a guest.  I know absolutely zero details about when this show will be, or whether it will be online.  And honestly, I'm a little bit scared about the whole thing because some of the comments on my original CMB post were mean.  Apparently I am a mean, bitter person who doesn't understand how to be supportive of my friends, and I don't deserve to have anybody be happy for me and my life accomplishments.  I'm hoping the British are nicer to me than some Americans. 

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Well, I could go on, but I have to go!  Thanks for coffee!

Stake It!

Ashley is my former college roommate and current friend, and recently she wrote a funny post about "gym rants."  Inspired by Ashley, I thought I'd write my own post about the gym and the annoying things people do there.  

("Stake It!" is a gym catch phrase that giant gay stereotype Jack was trying to popularize on an episode of Will & Grace.)  

First off, there are two particular members of my gym, one man and one woman, who really stink up the place.  Look, I get that it is a gym, and nobody's expecting you to look awesome or be completely sweat-free.  However, that does not mean that you should reek when you come through the door, or that you are allowed to wear clothes that stink even before you start working out.  When the entire room stinks the minute you enter, you have a problem. 

On the flip side, who are these people who wear all kinds of makeup and have perfect hair at the gym?  I'm not talking about people who still look nice because they came straight from work.  I'm talking about people who obviously get all gussied up to go to the gym first thing in the morning. 

Oh and also, speaking of personal grooming, the following grooming is socially acceptable in the locker room: (1) showering, (2) putting on deodorant, (3) drying/brushing your hair, (4) putting on makeup.  Please do not shave your legs at the gym, perform a complete DIY pedicure where you're cutting off dead skin from your cuticles, wax/bleach anything, shave your face (I'm referring to the woman who did this in the women's locker room), or bring in an entire set of hot rollers.  And if you have to bring in some sort of transitional garment like a robe or housecoat to wear between the shower and getting dressed, you are spending too much time on personal grooming in the locker room. 

Please, please, for the love of God, wear a bathing suit in the hot tub.  And if you are going to be completely naked in there, please do not do some sort of weird exercise where you bob up and down so your naked breasts are flopping around all over.  And why is it that the non-bathing-suit-wearing, breast-bobbing people are always the ones who want to talk to you in the hot tub? 

Don't complain about what's on the TV.  If you want to watch a specific program, stay home. 

If you are a group fitness instructor, please don't feel like you are a radio DJ and have to talk constantly on your microphone. 

If you are a group fitness class participant, stop with the damn additional clapping and dancing in a spin class (or in a weight-lifting class, for that matter).  Dancing and clapping in Zumba is encouraged.  Dancing and clapping in spin is distracting to everybody else.  If you have enough energy to dance and clap, you should be pedaling faster. 

And my gym now provides special disposable anti-bacterial wipes in a convenient pop-up dispenser, so if you are still too lazy to wipe down your equipment, you deserve to get kicked out of the gym. 

Plus, to the busybody who reported to the front desk that one window in my car was halfway open, on a completely sunny and warm day with no precipitation of any kind, resulting in some scary cryptic message over the loudspeaker for "the owner of a blue Toyota Corolla parked in the back lot" to please come to the front desk, causing me to take a very panicked walk where I imagined that my car was either on fire or had rolled into another parked car, please mind your own business. 

(That one was probably only applicable to my own particular circumstances.) 

I also don't think, and this is just a general nit-picky thing, that the octogenarians in the cardiac rehab program need to have eight brand-new state-of-the-art treadmills with touch screens and iPod hookups reserved just for them, when they could easily walk 1.5 mph on the old treadmills, and they don't actually know what an iPod is. And I know I'm going to get struck by lightning or something for hating on the elderly, but my point is that I'm tired of being told I can't use those treadmills between the hours of 8 and 12, or between the hours of 1 and 4.  I want them to have treadmills.  I just don't want them to have those treadmills. 

Please don't tell me that you were suuuper concerned about my belongings because I left my locker open for 90 seconds while I went to the bathroom.  Do not proceed to justify this concern because "there was somebody last week in the [insert section of the gym] who had his/her [insert item of value] stolen and [insert shocking turn of events like 'she was standing right there' or 'the surveilance cameras don't film the part of the parking lot where his car was parked.']"  These anecdotes are always completely implausible rumors that you heard through the gossip mill. 

And to the many, many members of my gym who come in, respect other people, clean up after themselves, and don't do stupid stuff like get in fights over who gets to use the lane in the pool, thank you.  You are solidly decent people and it's a pleasure working out alongside you. 

SuperIma Sunday Check-In: "Life's A Beach" Edition

 Photo from last summer, Indiana Dunes

I would like to begin by giving original SuperIma Leigh Ann mad props for the amount of organization she puts into planning her family's meals.  As you recall, Leigh Ann recently moved, and she posted a picture on Facebook when she got her menu boards put up in her kitchen.  Like me, a lot of Leigh Ann's friends were impressed that she would even have menu boards.  I do try to plan meals on paper each week, although half the time my plans get shot to hell because (a) Bill works late, or (b) I am lazy and we have something like cereal for dinner.   Oh, and notice I said I try to plan meals on paper each week.  Lately the planning has really only been about three days at a time, if that.  With Weight Watchers' new "free fruit" dictum (free in the sense that it's 0 points, not free money-wise), I go through so much fruit that I have to go to the store at least twice a week anyway, so I just pick up stuff for meals each time I go.  And those meals have rotated between: (1) breakfast for dinner (or "brinner"), (2) tacos, and (3) hot dogs.  Occasionally spaghetti. 

Anyway, I'm on a tangent.  My point is, Leigh Ann is sometimes hard on herself (coughpotcallingthekettleblackcough), but I just want to compliment her on her organization in family meal-planning and budgeting.  I know she wrote a very self-deprecating post about the meal-planning, but seriously, she plans two months in advance, and the rotating list of menu items, which she seemed to imply were limited and repetitive, is like 5 times longer than the list of dishes in my dinner repertoire. 

Also, another blog friend, Andrea, wrote a post awhile back about her impressive meal-planning efforts, so she deserves a shout-out, too.  And I must give a shout-out to my real-life friend Sarah's impressive level of meal-planning and general organization in grocery-shopping and life in general, which makes me feel inadequate by comparison. 

Moving on to the check-in:

Last week I began by talking about my recent realization that a huge part of the massive, all-consuming guilt I feel boils down to the fact that I feel like I should want more out of life.  Now, in many ways I actually do want more out of life, and in and of itself the desire to get more out of life has the potential to be a very positive thing.  But all this positive energy gets squelched by feelings of guilt and inadequacy, because I feel like I should be doing more, and achieving more, and So-and-So is doing so much better than I am at this, and Such-and-Such is better at that, even though she has X kids and Y professional responsibility and Z important side task. 

(And yes, I know that previous italicized sentence made no sense from a mathematical standpoint, because X was a variable that stood for an actual number, whereas Y and Z were really just letters that served as placeholders for some kind of text.  I just thought I would point that out, because I think at least somebody might be having a problem with that sentence.  Though I feel I have competent math skills, writing is my stronger suit.  In fact, last night I had a dream in which it was the summer before my senior year of high school, and I made the decision not to take A.P. Calculus.  If only I had made that decision in real life, I would have saved my 17-year-old self a lot of grief.  Okay, end of tangent--the literary kind, not the geometrical tangent.) 

Anyway, my point is that the desire to get more out of life is generally a very positive desire, but the feeling that you should want more out of life will bring on all kinds of negative guilt that will overshadow any positive emotions you may have previously had.  Generally speaking, the word should kind of has the power to take a big fat crap on any good feelings you may be having.  (Crazy Camp had a saying, "Don't should all over yourself," so I guess that's why the word should conjures up scatological analogies for me.) 

So, now freed from (some of) the guilt of should, I had a very good week.  I started to realize that even though I tend to feel like a schlub who just takes up space on the planet, I'm actually building a lot of meaningful life experiences. 

Let me use a specific example to illustrate my point about the value of life experiences.  As I previously mentioned, I was asked this past week to be an emcee at a coffeehouse hosted by a local grassroots group called Generations for Peace.  Now, first of all, the only reason that people associate me with emcee-ing is that I stuck my neck out and auditioned to be an emcee for a community theater show this past winter.  And that community theater show opened up all kinds of new opportunities for me, too, because I got to write the script and try my hand at stand-up comedy, and now I have another writing/emcee gig for a show this summer, and the opportunity to write a script for a murder mystery show this upcoming fall/winter.  Those are all really awesome experiences that led to other awesome experiences. 

And anyway, my point was that my latest awesome experience was getting to emcee at the Generations for Peace coffeehouse.  At first I was bewildered as to what I could possibly say at a coffeehouse for a group that I am not a member of.  But a member of the group emailed me some information about Generations for Peace, and about one of their frequent partners, the American Friends Service Committee.  And I was like, American Friends Service Committee?  I know them from when I was in high school and participated in a group that helped plan events for kids in the city.  The American Friends Service Committee sponsored a lot of the events.  And also, I was pretty familiar with pro-peace activism because I grew up attending Unitarian Church. 

So you see, life experiences. 

And this week I was able to focus on all the really positive and varied life experiences I'm having, between my gigs in the community and my writing endeavors.  I worked extra-super hard on my article for Technorati, and that foray into legitimate journalism really gave my brain a much-needed workout.  Plus the local cancer support center called and asked if I'd like to take a weekly shift working at their thrift store, and there's nothing like charity work to make you feel like a productive member of the community. 

Anyway, that was a really long check-in, but the bottom line is that I had a positive week.  As you'll recall, my specific goals were:

• Take 5 minutes to straighten up my immediate area, in the name of simplicity: I think I did a pretty good job on this one, although of course there were plenty of times where I just set up my laptop and parked myself amid a sea of squalor and Cheerios.  But the kitchen was cleaner than usual this week, at least.
• Spend 30 minutes outdoors, weather permitting: I loved this goal!  Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday we went to a different park each day.  Thursday we sat in the yard.  Friday I was super busy and didn't make my 30 minutes, but I made up for it on Saturday with an epic-long bike ride where Nathan and I got kind of lost, which is overall not a good experience with a whiny four-year-old.  (The dumb thing is that I got lost once before in that same area, back when I was walking with Nathan in the stroller.) 
• Finish two fluffy, light books: FAIL.  I am only halfway through the first one.

This upcoming week promises to be another busy one.  It's Nathan's last day of preschool Thursday, and I'm going to attempt the pie-baking for his teachers.  Plus I signed up to bring a veggie tray for the end-of-year luau.  And on Tuesday night I'm going on the architecture cruise to celebrate the release of Melisa's book.   (I don't know her IRL, but I like the name of her blog, Suburban Scrawl.) 

Oh, and today we're going to the beach!  I know I have other chores I could be doing, like sweeping up that general crud that seems to grow so easily on the kitchen floor, but I need to stare at a large body of water, dammit. 

I really liked my goals last week, so I think I'm going to have the same goals next week.  Which I know is kind of a cop-out, but there should be no guilt in the SuperIma goals, right?  That's the point, isn't it? 

I would like to conclude by thanking Leigh Ann for setting up this blog carnival, because it's the one time each week where I can really sit down and reflect, which is actually one of my favorite things to do.  And Andrea has been inspired by Leigh Ann as well, because last week she wrote a goals post, too.  I will never cease to be amazed by the power of the Internet to bring us all together. 

Have a good week, everyone!

My Kid "Graduates"

Yesterday was Nathan's last day at Little Vikings, the preschool run by the Early Childhood Education class at our local high school.  They had a little end-of-the-year party.  I guess they were kind of technically calling it a "graduation," although there were no graduation hats or anything like that.   `

When Bill and I arrived, the kids were playing Twister:

The Little Vikings theme this year was "Fish."  The kids sang a four-line song about fish.  My child refused to participate. 

The classic "kid pulling up his shirt during a performance" photo: 

The kids had made a fish piñata (not pictured).  Nathan didn't get a chance to hit the piñata before it got broken, which is fine because historically he hasn't actually given a rip about hitting piñatas.  He does like the candy inside, though.   Here's a picture of Nathan with his bag of candy:

There was also a slideshow, and then the high schoolers made each kid a yearbook with photos.  Nathan's two "Big Viking" buddies wrote in his yearbook.  One of the buddies said, "I will miss seeing the funny faces you make."  I have no idea what she's talking about:

Then again, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree:

The kids had been working on an end-of-the-year project with real fish.  I had given advanced permission to allow Nathan to take his fish home.  The teacher assured us that the kids knew how to clean the fish tanks, so there shouldn't be much work for the parents.  Umm, yeah, I imagine that I'll just have to say, "Nathan, clean your fish tank," and he'll jump to it with the kind of alacrity characteristic of all his household chore completion. 

So, we have a new family member.  I suggested naming him Iron Man because of his red color, but Nathan wanted to name him either "Nathan" or "Fishy."  Growing up, I had a fish named Swimmy and a hamster named Hammy, and Bill has named visiting cats The Cat and Gray Kitty, so I'm not sure Nathan comes by the creative-naming gene genetically.  (Also, although we did give Nathan a proper, normal name, half the time we refer to him as "The Boy.") 

Nathan with the fish, whatever its name is:

I went to Petco and bought some fish food.  I got these little tablets that slowly dissolve into tubeworms and things, and you only have to feed the fish one tablet per week.  Talk about a feeding schedule that doesn't properly instill a sense of responsibility in a kid.  Nathan would probably be happy if we only fed him once a week (fruit snacks notwithstanding), but this girl is having none of that feeding schedule:

Wait, WHAT?!  You're only feeding me once a week?  No problem, I'll find nourishment elsewhere, like by gnawing off your arm. 

Friday Night Leftovers

I found this blogging carnival called Friday Night Leftovers, which is hosted by a woman named Danifred at a blog called Sippy Cups Are Not For Starbucks.  In this carnival, you are supposed to post a bunch of random thoughts.  And since half my posts are of the "random thoughts" variety anyway, I thought I'd join in the carnival!

 

Speaking of Starbucks, I'm headed there this morning to get a gift card as an end-of-the-year gift for the teacher who heads up Nathan's little preschool program at the high school.  I want to get something for the teenagers in the program, too, but there are 27 of them and I can't afford to get them all Starbucks cards.  So we're just going to Costco to get an industrial-sized box of candy bars that they can split up.  When I was in high school, I liked candy bars. 

Oh, and let this serve as your Public Service Announcement to PLEASE do something to acknowledge your child(ren)'s teachers at the end of the school year!  Teachers work beyond hard for little pay, and half that pay (give or take) gets put toward buying classroom supplies that the school does not pay for.  So, my point is, acknowledge them in some way.  Even if you can't afford a gift, a nice thank-you note goes a long way. 

I'm giving the two teachers at Nathan's regular preschool Target gift cards, but only because I gave them Starbucks cards for Christmas.  Anyway, I mention the Target gift cards because I try (sometimes unsuccessfully) to attach gift card to some larger item like a plate of baked goods or a vase of flowers, and I'd like to discuss what I should attach the Target cards to.  (BTW I admit that I don't include the larger item to look like some sort of do-gooder, but rather because I think the card will be less likely to get lost that way.  Having been a teacher, I know it's always very chaotic at the end of the year, and in the mad shuffle to get out the door with your box of gifts, sometimes things slip away.)  Anyway, I'm considering baking pies for the two teachers, and I think I'd like to try strawberry, except I've never made strawberry pie before.  And also?  Baking pies?  Too ambitious?  For me, I mean? 

Speaking of my former life (as a teacher, I mean), let me give you some background about myself.  I grew up in a family of teachers, as in my mom and dad were both teachers, and my grandparents before that, and then my step-parents after my original parents got divorced/remarried.  My point is, the "September to June" schedule was fully ingrained in me from birth.  The first day of the year was not January 1, it was the day after Labor Day.  I lived my life according to the academic calendar through my years of high school and college, and then for the three years I taught school.  Then I got a job in the corporate world, and my first day was the day after Memorial Day, which meant I got a crash-course in OMG the rest of the world doesn't get summers off.  And after three years in the corporate world, and then two years at home raising a small, not-ready-for-school child, I had sort of gotten out of the world where late May was a mad rush of end-of-year-activities.  And now that we're finishing Nathan's first year of preschool, the mad rush of May is back.  There's the gift-buying and the card-making and the end-of-year parties.  Today's activity is a little show that Nathan is performing in at his high school program.  Oh, and in the show he and the other kids are singing a song about fish, which is because their big end-of-the-year science experiment was about goldfish, and at the end we get to take his goldfish home.  So we're getting a new pet, for a little while at least.  (Generally speaking, the life expectancy of goldfish isn't very long, although a Facebook friend announced today that her family just lost a goldfish they'd had for ten years.) 

I think I'm failing at this whole "randomness" thing (for once), because the preceding paragraphs were all sort of centered around the topic of end-of-the-school-year.  I must shift gears now. 

So, following Nathan's little goldfish program, I have to go to a meeting with Generations for Peace, which is a small grassroots group in the community that promotes (obviously) peace around the world.  I am actually not a member of this group (although of course I'm not opposed to peace), but my friend Kate is a member, and she asked me to be an emcee for the coffee house program they're hosting tomorrow.  First of all, I think it's funny that people have started associating me with public speaking, because I'm not sure that is one of my gifts.  (For people who are new here, I did an emcee gig at a community theater event in January, and I'm doing another one this summer.)  Also, although I'm sure my former-hippie-but-kind-of-not-but-she-was-in-college-in-the-60s mom is proud of me for taking part in the event, I am not sure I make a very good activist.  I just don't get worked up enough, at least not since I started taking Prozac. 

Another thing I'm not is a legitimate journalist, but I did write this article about education for Technorati.  The article was in response to a recent New York Times piece about the rise in popularity of traditional rote learning tutoring centers like Kumon for the preschool set.  My opinion, and the opinion of the educational researchers quoted in the NYT article, is that formalized instruction is not appropriate for young children, who should be learning through play.  I spent a few hours on Tuesday and almost all day Wednesday doing research on the early childhood education programs of other countries (countries who, generally speaking, are kicking our ass educationally) to show that worksheets for three-year-olds are not the key to success academic success in these countries.  Anyway, I did legitimate research for this article, people.  I was proud of it. 

Speaking of Technorati, my Technorati authority is 395, so close to 400.  Not that 400 is some kind of milestone or something, just some minor goal that I've established because it's obviously the value you get when you round to the nearest hundred.  I'm not entirely clear what authority is based on, something about stats and people who link to you, but I'm excited about my authority nonetheless.  (I do know that 1,000 is the best.) 

Also excited about: the pool opening next week, riding my bike by the lake with Katie in the near future, someday going to the beach (you know, when the weather report doesn't show clouds with thunderbolts for the next 5 days), and getting some new sandals (I welcome suggestions from Zappos). 

Well, I gotta run to meet Trainer Jill at the gym.  Thanks for joining me for leftovers, which, BTW, we are actually having for dinner. 

Have a great weekend, everyone!

All You Ever Wanted to Know About My Undergarments: A Review of My Free Wacoal Bra

About a month ago, the people from Wacoal invited me and some other blogging types to an event where we drank cocktails and had our boobs measured.  As you may recall, because you keep these kinds of details about me committed to memory, I found out at the event that I was wearing a bra two cup sizes too small.  The people from Wacoal were kind enough to send me a free bra in the correct size.

I feel a little bit bad for the PR people at Wacoal, because bloggers just aren't going to take the kind of photos at a bra event that they would at an event promoting some other product.  At the other blogger events I've been to, people are frantically snapping away pictures, but of course that would be inappropriate in a room full of underwear, where people are individually whisked away to get their breasts measured behind closed doors.  Bras are tricky to promote like that.

But I looked up the bra they sent me, and it turns out it's a $65 bra, and so I figured in exchange for their generosity I would step out of my comfort zone and take some photographs.  First, two important points:

Important Point #1: The Wacoal people did not, in any way, ask/encourage/pressure/cajole me to write this post.


Important Point #2: They're not those kinds of photographs.

Behold, a full-frontal bra view:

The front has a cute little decorative doodad: 

And this is the back view:

Life has improved tremendously since I got the right size bra.  The straps are very comfortable, and this is easily the nicest bra I've ever owned.  I'm not even going to put it in the dryer!  (And, as my mom will tell you, not putting it in the dryer is kind of huge for me, because I put everything in the dryer, including all my other bras.) 

The bra fitter started to fill out the order form to indicate I would be getting the default beige color, but I asked if I could have black instead.  For the entirety of my teenage years, I insisted on white bras and that was it.  The beige color seemed too old-ladyish, and black was too racy.  I don't think I bought a bra in any color besides white until I was about 21.  And even then, I didn't see the point of cutesy little details like the ribbon and pearly beads.  It's your underwear, for crying out loud.  (I know, wouldn't you just love to be married to me?) 

But nowadays my life is kind of dull, and I usually wear schlubby-looking outergarments, so I take pretty details in any way I can get them.  Wacoal had so many cute little undergarments at their event, with pretty embroidery and fun details. 

So, in conclusion, I say, Mom, you can relax.  I finally understand the point of having nice undergarments, and the point of caring for them correctly. 

And, Wacoal, thank you!

Early to Bed, Early to Rise?

As I mentioned last week, my new workout partner Dana and I have established a Monday/Wednesday swim date at 5:30 a.m. 

Last week the swimming went great for us.  The first day, I did my swimming and then went home and slept for an hour and a half before Nathan got up.  But the rest of the day, I loved that feeling of knowing that my workout was done for that day. 

Last Wednesday, the weather was so pleasantly warm, and I felt so great after my early-morning swim, that I went home and set up my laptop and coffee out on my back porch for some early-morning web-surfing before Nathan got up. 

Morning exercise FTW!

This week, though, I became a big fat flake. 

Dana had to go somewhere for her job early Monday morning, but I swore I would still get to the pool without her.  I needed to get into the routine of Monday/Wednesday swims.  But then I stayed up too late Sunday night and didn't even bother setting my alarm for 5 a.m.  I mean, I did go to the pool later in the day, but by then my swimming session really broke up the day in a very awkward way.  I really liked the way early-morning swimming streamlined my day and gave me large chunks of time to get things done. 

So then today I had planned to go to the pool at 5:30 a.m.  But stupidly I drank two Diet Cokes right before bed and could not fall asleep, and I was up several times at night worrying about getting up in the morning.  (I know, if that's not the dumbest thing, I don't know what is.)  And then at 5 a.m. when my alarm went off, I texted Dana to tell her I wanted to flake. 

This week I failed at getting up early. 

Next week I have to do better. 

Besides the minor infraction of drinking too much caffeine before bed, I think my failure can be attributed to two major mistakes.

Mistake #1: Not getting up at the same time every day.  Every single tidbit I've ever read about healthy sleep states that you should go to bed and get up at the same time every day.  When you force yourself out of bed at 5:00 a.m. one day and then sleep until 8:00 the next day, that's really forcing your body to adapt to an unreasonable schedule shift.  In my ideal world, I would love to be up and exercising at 5:30 most days, and I think the summer is a good time to get myself into this schedule, what with the earlier sunrises and all.  I like the idea of going out on a morning bike ride as the sun comes up.  Seems like a very life-affirming way to start the day. 

Mistake #2: And this is more like an explanation than an actual mistake, but I think I need to come to terms with the idea that I have to shift my whole daily schedule if I want to work out in the mornings.  Because while working out in the morning might streamline my day, it cannot perform the miracle of adding extra hours to the day.  What I mean is, if I'm going to get up earlier, I have to shift my thinking to a life where most of my free, alone-time hours are before Nathan wakes up, rather than after he goes to bed.  Realistically he doesn't fall asleep until 8:00, and I really need to go to bed at 9:00 if I want to get up at 5:00 a.m.  It's hard to get used to only having one hour after Nathan goes to bed, and that's not even considering the all-too-frequent times where the boy is still carrying on at 9:00 p.m.  Again, I think it all goes back to the issue that I need to fully convert to the early-morning schedule, so that my daily life has a different flow to it altogether. 

There's also the side issue that I may be married to the worst night owl in the history of the universe.  Last night he went to bed at 3:00 a.m., and had I gotten up at 5:00 a.m., that would have only been two common sleeping hours.  Not that I think shared sleeping time is some important cornerstone of a marriage or anything like that, but I just mention it to illustrate that obviously we will now be on completely different life schedules. 

But I really think that if I'm going to use my time wisely this summer, I need to become a morning exerciser.  I need to get my workouts done before taking Nathan to camp, so that I can use my three camp hours to have uninterrupted writing time.  Seeing as I have to write two play scripts this summer and all. 

It all sounds great on paper.  But we all know that every argument that sounds really sound and rational in the light of day completely goes out the window when the alarm goes off first thing in the morning.  How many times have we stayed up late, thinking it seemed like a great idea at the time, only to regret it in the morning?  As Jerry Seinfeld says, Morning Guy and Night Guy are two separate people. 

Anybody have any suggestions on how to become a better morning exerciser?