Wednesday, June 29, 2011

What I Did For A Klondike Bar

About 4 years ago, K and I were separated for a little over a month when he moved to CT to start a new job. The job came about very quickly and we weren’t ready for a big move, so I stayed behind to organize and pack the house. I worked hard during the days, closing out accounts, paying bills and packing our belongings into bubble wrap, but most of the nights, I spent watching NCIS or CSI reruns and eating Klondike bars and potato chips. The reunion of our family was to be at Disney World in Florida, and about three weeks into the Klondike fest, I realized that in a few short days, I would be in a swimsuit. In public.
I began riding my bike around the neighborhood 2 or 3 times a day to burn calories and started doing lunges on my front porch steps, throwing in some arm exercises for good measure. If you know the June humidity levels in Tennessee, you realize that June in TN is no good time to start an outdoor exercise program padded with 3 weeks worth of Klondike bars, but sometimes you have to do what you have to do. I reduced my portions and sweated the time away packing and exercising. I can’t remember if I lost much weight, (sigh…probably not) but I think just putting the effort into it made me feel better.
The week before the trip, in addition to losing the pounds, I realized that I **had** to bleach my teeth. Why? I can’t really say. I was traveling with my parents, who never care if my teeth aren’t at the peak of whiteness and K would be glad to see me either way, but I spent the last few days carefully applying bleaching strips to my teeth to achieve a pearly smile. K noticed neither the bleaching nor the weight or lack thereof. Hmph.
Laters.

Monday, June 13, 2011

Recommendations 3

Our family has been using www.mint.com to set our monthly budget and help us manage our money. Mint categorizes all expenditures, synchs with your bank accounts, credit cards, loans, etc. and lets you see exactly what you spend and exactly where it goes. (eek, for me on the Starbucks and shoes) In the words of my sis-in-law, “that sounds scary,” but in reality setting a budget and sticking to it is a good thing. They also have an iPhone app so really, being fiscally responsible couldn’t be easier. Oh, and it’s free. 

A beauty product I love right now is Nars Illuminator. For me, it works a little like a bronzer and it looks good with my fledgling summer tan. A little shimmer on the décolletage is nice too, and this works nice for that.  As always, my go-to for this kind of stuff is Sephora, but I’m sure you can get it at most department stores. http://www.sephora.com/browse/product.jhtml?id=P284301&categoryId=B70

I know its summer when it’s time to buy flip-flops and tanks at Old Navy. I think that their simple cotton tanks are great and I wear mine all year for layering and they usually get pretty threadbare by the time the next summer rolls around so it works out perfect. Don't think I need to list this site as I'm sure every closet has a pair of their flip-flops, but just in case you've not been informed, www.oldnavy.com 

Trader Joe’s; bad for my waistline mini-milk-chocolate peanut butter cups. So tiny and tasty and the perfect size to grab a handful (or 3) as you walk past, I keep them in the fridge so they stay cool in the summer temps.

Monday, June 6, 2011

Me First

I expect it was the enormous lunch stuffed in my back pack that gave me the edge or maybe it was the Monday angst, but either way, I won.
There is a certain fellow, I like to call him “Mr. Not So Nice Guy in a Yankees Cap,” or worse things depending on my mood, but everyday he pushes in front of me to get on the train.
Raised in gentler, more mannerly climes, I expect men to defer to a lady or least not push her out of the way, but I’m pretty certain that this is a Jersey boy or a Bronx man, or from wherever they raise chubby, rude, sweaty men who don’t have manners.
He is a train runner, by that I mean he is the type who likes to start at the end of the platform and run alongside the train as it comes to a stop. Runners seem surprised by the whole process each morning and determined not to miss their golden opportunity. I am waiter; the train stops every day in the exact same place, so I pick my spot, wait there, the doors open, I enter and I am whisked magically away to work.  I suppose Hat Guy does not understand the mechanics of routine, or of waiting his turn, or of being nice. He must have been a terrible kindergartner.  
As I saw him making his sweaty run for it this morning, I thought, “not today, Bub!” and I put myself squarely in the path of his running, angling my overstuffed-backpack laden frame just perfectly, so he had to stop and wait his turn. He could hardly stand it, and he tried to squirm in front of me at the last minute, even as I was stepping onto the train from the platform. Which I don’t have to tell you is dangerous business; ohhh, it makes me steamed just thinking about it. Since I was first, I took the last open seat in the car. Sayonara Sweaty!! Laters.