P90Xing is a pain in my ass

Literally and figuratively.

Not only does my ass hurt, but I've made a commitment to do this program 6 days a week for 3 months. I started the program at the very tail end of November and the results have been astonishing, despite my near 2 weeks hiatus because of winter vacation. (some commitment huh?) One day, I may be brave enough to post the before pictures, but for right now, I'm still too close to my before pictures to actually see a difference in a digital photo. It has also completely disrupted my social life (not really) and I find I have to plan my evenings around when I do P90X. Wow talk about being a nerd. But you want to know what, fools? I'm going to be a fit nerd that can outrun your grandma. That's right, you heard me. Your GRANDMA.

But seriously, the astonishing results is in my performance. Even after laying off running for nearly 3 months with a few jogs scattered here and there, I was able to shave my time by 2 1/2 minutes. WTF?? I know right? 2 1/2 minutes? That timing seems like a ridiculous lie, but fortunately, it's not. My time for last week's 5K was 27.39. At this rate, I'll soon be able to outrun yo' daddy. (that goes out to Amy and her daddy)

Creative Juices

I am working on this piece at work that requires a lot of creativity on a deadline, which is fast approaching...I'm usually good at this, I thrive off of tight deadlines and schedules and the pressure, but for some reason, this time, it still isn't happening. It's as though my writer's muse took a vacation and forgot to write me a note. I also notice that when I am stupidly happy, my creativity likes to poke around in the background. Why do I have to be one of those people who only do good work in crisis? How do I nudge it back into the foreground? In case you were wondering, this is my attempt to get the juices flowing again. and if you have gotten this far in the post, you must be a fan because I'm bored and falling asleep just sitting here writing this crap.

Running Update

I have been mildly depressed over the past few months because my running career came to a screeching halt on October 11th. I ran a 10K race and by the end of it, I thought both of my knees were trying trying to emancipate themselves from the rest of my body. The pain was jolting and I was pretty sure I had damaged my knees beyond repair. I was crushed. For an entire month, I moped around the house wondering what I could possibly do to replace the runners high.


My buddy at work recommended his chiropractor repeatedly and I of course ignored him until I was about ready to hurl my bloated ass off a ledge.

Since meeting the good Doctor Choy, I am back in the saddle babee! He figured out both my knee ailments and fixed them for me. I ran close to 7 miles the other night without a twinge in either knee. I run a small 5K tomorrow in Santa Monica. My goal, under the steady guidance of the good doc is to run 15 miles by the end of the month and my first 13.1 in February!

Wish me luck!

Thanksgiving

This year, I have so much to be thankful for and I don't mean the bullshit thankfulness either, I mean 2009 ended up being one of the best years of my life. First Cole is doing an amazing job at school. His behavior has vastly improved (at least when he is with me) and he is getting brighter and brighter with each passing day. There is nothing like good old parental pride to get you up in the mornings. I am very thankful for my son.

I still have a job (knock on wood). They say the economy is picking back up, but frankly, I have yet to see evidence of this, especially at work. I am very thankful for financial independence.

Kitty Claw and I finally came to a peaceful truce. If she starts to claw on me or act aggressive, I throw her outside until she can pull her shit together. Usually after about 10 minutes, she's ready to come back in and behave. She is actually very welcomed company when she curls up next to me, purring and acting like a sweet, loving member of the family. My feelings towards her are starting to warm. I am very thankful for harmony.

I got out of the worst relationship in my life this year. I won't elaborate on this but it affected me on a personal and professional level and though I am still feeling some after-effects, my quality of life skyrocketed the minute it was over. I'm not going to say that it was all his fault, I take most of the responsibility for actively blinding myself to the signs (they were there, oh were they there). I'm just thrilled to be free from the concrete blocks that were attached to my feet by unkept promises and smoke and mirrors. I also learned a very valuable lesson; a paper trail never, ever lies. The paper trail is ultimately what unbound me, it validated my doubts, vaporized the smoke screen and reflected reality.
A paper trail is the most honest assessment of a person's true nature. You can discover everything about a person, what foods they like, what their hobbies are, do they love their family, do they have a job, do they pay their taxes, do they tithe, do they have a sweet tooth, if they are generous, are they responsible, do they prefer mac over pc, do they have friends, do they drink too much, do they like to travel, do they have kids, etc. The list goes on and on. I am thankful that I woke up in time to finally hear the screaming paper trail and smell the scent of detergent on freshly laundered clothes after a long hard day of sweating in the hot sun. I am very thankful for clarity.

I am getting back into the best shape of my life AND finding a healthy way to deal with stress. I feel trim and fit and as a direct result, I have to some degree halted the aging process (at least I feel like I have in my brain). My mind feels younger and more agile. I am very thankful for my health.

Roberta has become one of my most beloved of friends. We laugh a lot, we cry, we share. She is a wonderful spectator and an honest commentator. We disagree on certain issues, but then we still hug at the end of the day and say "see you tomorrow, neighbor." I am very thankful for my neighbor.

But most of all, I am very thankful that after all the mistakes made, the tears shed, the laughs shared, we get the opportunity to put our heads down on our soft fluffy pillows and wake up the next morning and do it all again, but just a little bit wiser.

Birds and the Bees

Emma McNeilly's mom had the sex talk with her when we were in the second grade. I know this because Emma, in turn, relayed her new found knowledge to me the next day in the school cafeteria during lunch. She spoke in very clinical terms, which I totally appreciated, even back then. I remember it very vividly to this day because I knew my mom would never have this conversation with me, ever. In fact, the only person from my old family who sat down with me to discuss sex was my older sister, however, it was AFTER I had my first sexual experience.

As a direct result, I decided that now Cole is in second grade, it's time to have the talk with him. This is how it went:

Me: Cole, do you know where babies come from?
Cole: Yes, from your belly.
Me: Do you know how it got there?
Cole: Yes, I was inside your belly all of your life.
Me: Yes, but do you know how you started to grow in my belly?
Cole: No...
Me: When two people make the decision to have sex...
Cole: ewewewewewewew!!
Me: What? It's not gross, it's a part of the cycle of life. You don't want to hear about se...
Cole: ewewewewewewew!!

In some ways, I am very relieved; my little boy is still my little boy for the time being.

Octoberfesting Indeed!

Dressing up has never been so much fun! Victoria and I have this thing that we do. It's similiar to having a shitload of fun where ever we are but more funner.

From beer wenching...

to trifecta winning:

to knock-out, drag-down, spectaularly awesome ghoulishness:

This gal is like my soul sister except prettier, smarter, paler and bloodier. and no one can hardly tell us apart! We are physically connected at the hip bone and mentally connected at the funner bone.

Now that he's seven...

My little man thinks that he's all growed up. Now considering that I have made it a policy to tell him the truth (except about Santa Claus and I am still not sure if I did the right thing by perpetuating the myth), I was not sure what to say when he asked me if I loved his dad. So, I told him the truth and said nope, but I sure am grateful that he was around because I wouldn't have been able to have the best son in the world if it wasn't for his dad.

Apparently that wasn't good enough, he asked WHY I didn't love his dad. I told him that when he was older, I would fill him in. He needs a few more years(like never) before I go into a fairytale version of the gory truth. He insisted that he really wanted to know and is old enough to understand. So I asked him what wanted Santa to bring him for Christmas.

That ended that.

'Fraidy Cat

For the past several months I've noticed the touch lamp is sometimes on in the guest bedroom. Let me clarify, when I see it on, I walk in and turn it off. I have never actually turn the light on myself so I thought it a little strange that I found myself turning off a light that I've never turned on. Initially I dismissed it as an accident, I'm not even sure how I was able to justify in my mind that a light turning on by itself is in any way ok, but the other option was to kinda sorta freak out and have the house exorcized and start digging for dead american indian bodies. So in my mind, I dismissed it as a little odd, but nothing to worry about. Afterall, I did get the locks changed and I have been super diligent about locking up.

Then I thought maybe Cole was randomly turning the light on, even though the guest bedroom is the one room he never enters. For that matter, the guest bedroom is the one room I never enter either. But when I asked him why he was turning the light on in the guest bedroom but not turning it off, he looked down at me like I was in kindergarten and kindly asked me to quit smoking crack. Which brings me to Kitty Claw. She is the only other living, breathing creature that is able to roam freely about the house. Maybe she was turning the light on? Which now makes me sound like I really am on crack. Who ever heard of a cat with a light fetish that didn't involve a concentrated beam of a laser light? Cats can see in the dark, they don't need light, or so I'm told.

Well I finally caught her the other day. She has staked out the one remaing room in the house as her own. That crazy bi-polar cat apparently needs her privacy when she is heading south AND she needs her privacy while bathing in the soft glow of a low wattage ambient night stand lamp. She likes to turn on the light whenever she lounges on the guest bed, nestled between the comforter and pillow shams. It wouldn't bother me so much except she doesn't even have the courtesy to turn the damn light off when she leaves the room.

Fuck You World.

There are so many damned thoughts going through my head, it wants to explode. I promised I would never do a blog about my political or religious views because I'm sure I'd lose a lot of friends this way but FUCK!!! With what's been going on in the world, how can a person not have an opinion on the sad, sad state of the world? First of all, FUCK YOU George Bush, Sr. I mean seriously, FUCK YOU. You can dish it out but you can't stand it when someone dishes it out to you or to your dumb fuck retarded family. Fuck you 30 Sentators who voted against Al Frankens's rape amendment. I mean seriously, FUCK YOU nonconsentually in the ass and while we're at it, FUCK YOU in a locked shipping container. Fuck you Glen Beck and all of the crazy, illogical mother fuckers (especially on FOX-shivers) who think their rantings and ravings are on par with real news and professional journalism. FUCK YOU Richard Heene for the Hoax last week. I was watching the runaway balloon on tv with tears in my eyes feeling so sorry for you and the horror and fear you must be feeling thinking your son was 5,000 feet in the air. I almost cried for you and come to find out, not only are you a fucking liar and actively encourage your kids to be liars too, but now I just read that you "allegedly" beat the snot out of your wife too. You are too classy for tv my friend. You belong in hell. (of course, fuck me for only wanting to believe in hell when it is convenient for me, otherwise, FUCK Hell, it doesn't exist, but then again, if I have to FUCK ME, then I have to FUCK all the other hypocrites on this planet.)

On a lighter note, FUCK the experts who tell me that eating egg yolks is bad for me. Haven't you mother fuckers heard of moderation? You want to know what's bad for me? Lays potato chips, Hot Cheetos and plastic Mickey D's fries. Fuck fat and obese america and fuck the skinny lovers who have a problem with chubby citizens.

Fuck you arugula and other mixed lettuce leaves for being so delicious but having absolutely NO nutritional value whatsoever that after I eat you, I am forced to eat a bag of hot fucking cheetos, which are not only very bad for my body and skin, but makes my poopie hole hurt a whole lot.

And last but not least, FUCK MY KNEES, yes, both of them for not being able to carry me for a measly 6.2 miles without screaming out in pain like they were in Guantanamo Bay or something. Please bitches, I give you ice, ibutes and lots and lots of rest. You knees have no idea what it's like to be fucked, but I sure do. Fuck you for fucking me over at my first 10K.

This Just In!

According to the American Chemical Society, nearly 90% of all U.S. paper money contains traces of cocaine.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2009/08/17/90-percent-of-us-paper-mo_n_261190.html

This also means that 90% of all U.S. paper money contains traces of snot, mucus and/or boogers.