watching my language

DH actually asked me to watch my language around the kids. I guess all that swearing under my breath is not as under my breath as I thought. Oops. I haven't heard any of it directed back at me yet, thank god, but I'm sure that day is coming.

Nevermind that DH often shouts "Shut up _________!" from his side of the bed when we have put one or both of the kids back in their beds for the upteenth time and they won't stop screaming their heads off at 2 a.m. And I have heard "Shut up ______!" from at least one kid's mouth in the last month. I jumped on it, called it rude, etc., substituted language--but how much can I really jump on it when it's coming from a parent's mouth?

Modern parenting dilemmas.

I was treated to yet another episode of "Charmed" at the gym yesterday. At this point, I'm counting how many different hairstyles Alyssa Milano goes through. I think it's up to six. Yesterday she had bangs. And she was dressing a lot more conservatively--she had morphed from whatever she was, which required abdomen-baring clothing, to radio call-in host, which required more business-appropriate attire. One of the younger girls has now appropriated all of her abdomen-baring clothing.

I am learning all about Wikis for work, which has made me want to Wiki just about everything in my life, from grocery lists to recipes to recaps to blogs. Wiki overkill?

Someone in my office just posed a question about an ellipsis, and another editor said, "I had an ellipsis question earlier in the week too. I'm getting into these ellipses things. En-dashes and Em-dashes are so 2008."

Uproarious laughter all around. He's an Eagles fan. And spent some time in West Lafayette, IN, so we have bonded over Midwest snow horror stories. I am willing to forgive him the Eagles obsession because it is damned hard to be a Bengals fan in the middle of Ravens/Steelers territory.

Oops. I did it again.

movie queue

I don't have netflix--I simply don't have time, and sometimes my tastes change midstream. So this is my solution: a list of movies I want to see at some point, in no particular order or genre. It's more a note to myself than anything else. But feel free to ad lib about what's good, bad, oscar-worthy, or ugly, but don't be upset if I don't take your advice.

1. Milk
2. Doubt
3. Dark Knight
4. Sherlock Holmes (RDJr.)
5. Baby Mama
6. High School Musical
7. Mamma Mia
8. Wall-e
9. Slumdog Millionaire
10. A Christmas Tale
11. Religulous
l2. Cadillac Records
13. Frost/Nixon
14. HP and HBP

learning from the funnies

I learned something new today. Thanks NYT!

Apparently Schroeder was actually playing Beethoven tunes in the "Peanuts" cartoons. And, in a secret-code-like precursor to listening to the Beatles backwards for Satanic messages, the actual passages Schultz quoted in the strip "enhance" the joke or the emotion or the character.

Who knew?

migraines, twilight, and other assundry items

Today is migraine day #5 (out of seven). I am trying to figure out what is causing these. My gut says that I am not eating enough (especially protein) to outweigh (ahem) the increased physical activity I've been undertaking as of late. But I don't want to eat more, as that will negate any health benefits of the increased activity.
What to do.

There is no consistency on lobe from headache to headache. Some are left side; some are right side. Some affect my eyes (like I'm being stabbed through the eye from behind), some my jaw. I become hypersensitive to noise and light, and most often experience some sort of nausea. It doesn't matter if I wear my bite splint at night or not. The cumulative hours of sleep I've gotten doesn't matter nearly as much as the length of time I've been asleep without interruption. If I manage four-six hours without interruption, then the migraines are not as bad. Less than that and I can almost count on one interrupting my day.

My doctor switched me from zomig to maxalt--maxalt is a lot less expensive than zomig, which is probably the majority of the reason. I respond to maxalt but I wonder if the headache is truly going away (e.g. blood vessels are dialating sufficiently) or if it is just prolonging the inevitable headache (which might speak to the frequency). enough navel-gazing about my head.

i saw twilight this weekend with my neighbor, Kerry. It was the first time i have been out with a "friend" one on one since moving here. It felt good to chit-chat and do something so brainless; I'd been wanting to see the film since I finished the book, and although the book was better (of course) the film was pretty good. I don't know that I would have cast Pattinson--he's not who I see when I think of Edward, but I don't know whom I would have cast in his place. It was so nice to vege for a while and think about whether Bella would get Edward in the end (or vice versa). Brain candy is fun.

Hit the gym again this morning for a 45 minute run (well, 10 min warmup, 35 min run). I did it at what was my race pace for the 10K I ran over Thanksgiving, so that was good.

The gym in general is pissing me off, though. There are about six TVs along the row of windows; they are always tuned to CNN, MSNBC, ESPN, and TNT. That's it. No ABC, CBS, NBC, or FOX. I asked Matt, the boxer cum personal trainer cum fitness director if it would be possible to change the channel and was quickly rebuked. "Ask you husband," he counseled me. My husband technically is his "boss."

"I did," I explained. "He told me to talk to you."

"Well, have him ask his boss. If I change the TV for you, I have to change it for everyone. And I am not spending my time changing channels all day long. And I'm not listening to people complain about what you are watching on TV..."

Sigh. So I am resigned to screamy news caplets (MSNBC), Anderson Cooper's perfect hair with not-so-screamy news caplets, ten minute tickers of sports highlights (and lowlifes), and endless (and I do mean endless) "Charmed" reruns.

I never watched "Charmed" when it was on for the first run. I've pretty much avoided everything Alyssa Milano has done post "Who's the Boss?" And the presence of Shannen Doherty is always a deal-killer for me as well (like Kevin Costner on the big screen... if he's in it, I ain't gonna see it. and I'm not sorry.) but now i have no choice.

it doesn't seem to matter when I hit the gym either. morning, afternoon, or evening, "Charmed" is ready and waiting for me. i listen to my ipod, so I'm not privvy to all of the sniffling, sniveling, she-witch fiasco dialogue that Aaron Spelling chose to subject viewers to. but i can't stop reading the damned captions. and boy, are they stupid.

in dayton, at the y, i had my own personal screen on row after row of treadmill and elliptical machine. it was simply beautiful. i could catch "Real World" reruns, "I Love the 80s" marathons, Ellen's talk show, SNL reruns... whatever. But now--news caplet, Cooper's hair, athletes behaving badly, or "Charmed." I'm so not charmed by this whole situation.

when it warms up, i will return to the outdoors for all running and hit the gym only for strength and interval training. but even so, i'm sure "Charmed" will be there for me. oh joy.

Obama and his boyz

Love this. Love it. Laughed out loud and actually snorted, to the dismay of my co-workers.

China

"...all the way to New York.... I can feel the distance...."

Laura Bush just ordered new presidential china to the tune of $483,000.

How many people would that feed? Too tired to figure out the math....

At least it wasn't taxpayer money. But still... the private foundation that covers the cost of the new dishes would have done well to donate that cash elsewhere. I bet GM would have been happy to receive it.

Basketweave and magnolias? Not my taste. Somehow, I doubt it's Michelle Obama's either. It's so... southern.

The disconnect between those at the top and those struggling to find (or keep) work has never been more apparent.

[Stepping off soapbox now]

I am woman, hear me roar

It has been a super-fun-filled 24 hours of workouts. My thighs are complaining but hey, dems de breaks.

Last night, 6 p.m.: 15 min treadmill (walking) warm-up; 30 min resistance training; 30 min elliptical machine

This morning 8:30 a.m.: 5 min walk warm-up, 5 min run warm-up; 21 minutes intervals; 10 brisk walk cooldown; stretch

Hit my second WW meeting (in a week) afterwards to hear about the joys of eating broccoli. but hopefully it gave me my needed "shot in the arm" to stay on plan.

I don't have to think about running or strength training again until Friday. Say "hey" for a day off tomorrow!!!

Dear Daughter and I head to the National Gallery of Art, and I get an education

On Tuesday, dear daughter and I had a "Mommy and Sydney Day Out." We took the Metro into DC to grab a bite of lunch (Frank & Stein was her gourmet choice) and peruse the National Gallery. She had learned about Mark Rothko through a program at school called Grace Art, where parents volunteers come in and teach kids about different artists. This is what she has been/will be studying. I thought that going to the National Gallery would be something to capitalize on her interest in art, while at the same time being something special that she and I could do, since her dad doesn't have an overwhelming interest in visual art.

We arrived at the East Building of the gallery and asked at the information desk for things that someone of her age might find interesting. I shouldn't have bothered. We were directed to the Calder sculptures in the basement--an example is at the top of the post. Very cool. We had a nice conversation while examining a different, mixed-media sculpture about what kinds of things she would put in a sculpture of her own. Then we explored the next room. She ran right up to a huge canvas on the wall, similar in style to this one:



and said, "That's Mark Rothko! We studied him in school!"

Very cool. I was impressed but not overly so. I was glad she had enjoyed the lesson and paid attention. She told me about composition and shapes and colors. Exciting stuff.

Then we meandered into the next room, searching out a Lichtenstein that was on our "highlights of the museum" page. I was overwhelmed by a Pollack, and then I directed her to a Warhol.

"Look!" I said. Finally, something I vaguely recognized. "This is by Andy Warhol." I leaned down and started to use my 'teacher voice.' "Andy Warhol was...."

She cut me off almost immediately. "Mom," she said, rolling her eyes, "I know who Andy Warhol is."

"Syd," I said. "You're five and a half. How do you know about Andy Warhol."


"Mr. C. told us about him in art class. When we did printing."

I was speechless. I don't think I'd heard of Andy Warhol until well into my teens. And even so, I could probably spit out something about soup cans and Marilyn Monroe. I pushed on. "What do you know about Andy Warhol?" I asked.

"Andy Warhol used the same picture over and over again with different colors," she said, as if reciting her ABCs.

Without batting an eyelash, she dashed right up to another painting and said "Ooo! David Hockney!"

I glanced at the label next to the painting. "Actually, Sol LeWitt," I corrected. "But who's David Hockney?"

We found the Lichtenstein, which she promptly proclaimed was "so cool" and expressed a wish that her brother, age 3, could see it.

My jaw was on the floor for the next few minutes, until she returned to true five-year old form and said, "I'm hungry. Can we have ice cream? Please? Pretty please?"

Happy New Year! and guess what--big brother is watching

Happy New Year! If you trolled my blog in search of resolutions, you won't find any here. I'm already working on most of the stuff I want to change in my life, and to that effect, today is just another day. Still, I hope that the new year brings more financial health, better oversight of our regulatory agencies that are supposed to be protecting us from Madoff et al, and peace in parts of the world that are desperately in need (Israel, Gaza, and my living room, for starters).

This scary little nugget arrived in my inbox today. I'm sure that merely by posting it, I'll be picked out for extra security checks the next time I head overseas to the UK. But in the interest of spreading the word, I'll take that risk. Remind me I said that next time I'm subjected to an hour of screening because I forgot to remove a banana from my carry on bag when disembarking.

I know this stuff exists on all of us. I know that if I applied for security clearance, my blog would probably disqualify me from the get-go. I thank God that I don't live in the 50s, where my leftist leanings combined with my choice of religion and support of the arts would quickly land me on a blacklist or two. But I often wonder if it's better to be the ostrich with my head in the sand and not know exactly what Big Brother knows and tracks about me and my best friend from first grade (Jaina Lindauer--are you out there?)

Caffeine-free days: 5; Monstrous workouts: 1

I went to the doctor for a check-up this week, and she let slip a small bomb: apparently, new recommendations for exercise are up--way up. Apparently, we're supposed to get 90 minutes of exercise, five times a week. A quick web search turned up an article backing up that fact--but I didn't see anything on the American Council on Exercise's site about the new recommendation. It is always harder to swallow the news when the person delivering it is thin, most probably due to genetic makeup, and makes you feel bad for carrying 25 extra pounds. But I'm letting that go. The recommendation is there.

Since I had the day off yesterday, I dutifully trudged to the gym, after spending nearly two hours trying to reset at least a few of the rooms in my home to "zero." Present-opening and two full-time, working parents have made keeping the house picked up a challenge, and I needed at least one or two rooms to appear "picked up" in order to function.

According to my running schedule (which, up until yesterday I thought was plenty of cardio work in and of itself), yesterday was an interval training day. A couple of lurkers either here or on FB have asked about intervals. Although I am probably the farthest thing from an expert on the subject, I can say that my intervals are 90 seconds of running at a pace that gets my heart rate up near my max, followed by 90 seconds of running at a normal rate to get my heart rate back down to a more normal, working out level. Then I repeat the cycle five more times. Currently, I am walking at a brisk pace rather than running on the recovery portion of the intervals, as that is the only way to bring my heart rate back down within 2 minutes. I am doing all of this to get faster. I am a very pokey runner, and after three weeks of intervals I am seeing some small amount of improvement, which is encouraging.

So intervals. I walked five minutes and jogged five minutes to warm up, then did the intervals and walked to round out the 30 minutes.

Then I hopped on over to the elliptical machine and alternatively listened to my ipod and watched cnn to kill the boredom. my pace was definitely in the "fat-burning" zone. ho-hum. When those 30 minutes had crawled by, I picked up a People magazine from September 2008 and got on the recumbent bike. For 30 minutes I paged through old celebrity news and pictures of Ellen and Portia's wedding (at home, 19 people, calm, collected, blah, blah, blah) and kept my heart rate in the "fat-burning" zone once again.

After the 90 minutes of sheer bliss, I called it a day. Some light stretching and then off to shower and grab lunch with DH. And I was STARVING. I couldn't wait to get my hands on some chicken. I needed fuel in the worst way.

And I was tired. I wondered how I was going to get through the rest of the day (it being 1 pm when I finally emerged from the locker room). The thought of doing that five times a week while trying to fit in 40 hours at work, be a mom, and put meals on the table and clean clothes in the closet was enough to make me want to dive head-first into the nearest plate of Christmas cookies--which would defeat the entire purpose of the monstrous workout.

So I have decided to try 60 minutes instead of 90. I still don't know how I'm going to get 60 minutes of cardio in on days that I have resistance training (tomorrow), but I'm off again tomorrow so I can afford the time at the gym.

It's enough to make me want a grande white chocolate mocha. Oh wait, I've given up caffeine. And that mocha is about 8 or 9 points. And the sadist--I mean, doctor--told me to try to reduce my points as well.

The upshot? Other than the extreme fatigue yesterday (which eventually faded once I ate a meal), and some residual muscle soreness from the intervals, my heart is fine. I mean, I got through all that cardio. The last two segments were boring. I felt a little like I was working, but not so much. Not compared to running. If it weren't so boring... If I could do it while working... then it might not be so bad.

Then again, I'm off today (workout-wise). I bet I'll feel different in the morning, facing the resistance and 60 min cardio. But that's tomorrow. I'm going to try to enjoy today.

Oh, and for those of you who observe--Merry Christmas! May your season and New Year be filled with sweat, white chocolate mochas, and plates and plates of Christmas cookies.

a wordle i can live with

any takers?

She would have been 63

Next Tuesday... in one week... my mother would have been 63. It is hard for me to imagine her at that age, since she is eternally frozen at 44. She was very gray in her 40s, so I can only imagine that she would have gone completely gray by then. Would she still be coloring her hair? Her mother did until the day she died, so I can only imagine.

Although she had some age lines, as we all seem to accumulate across the 30s, she wasn't overly marked. She had beautiful Mediterranean skin. Would it have been wrinkled? So hard to imagine.

I was only reminded (not that I will ever truly forget) because an engine that reminds me of birthdays and anniversaries sent me an email, reminding me of both my brother and my uncle's birthdays (all on Dec. 23--she was a twin). Seeing the number "Your Uncle will be 63 on Dec. 23" was a bit of a shock. I know that it's been almost 19 years, but the idea of my mother at 63 isn't something I've pondered before.

Sixty-three. I wonder if she would have accomplished all that she wanted to, or if there would have still been dreams and goals unfulfilled. I wonder if she would still want to ski. I'm sure she still would have loved golfing, and playing with my kids.

She would have been 63.

so who knew pandora uses up bandwidth?

i certainly hadn't thought of it that way. it's a shame, really. the tech guy in da howse has been threatening to crack down on our use of itunes and pandora. i can see itunes, as it's a client, but pandora is not a download. apparently, though, the customization takes its toll on the server--and, weirdly, on the ftp site. not sure how all that works.

killing time until i can leave. a mere six hours today. sigh. is that even respectable? but there are only so many assets i can meta-tag, and so many lessons i can read against the chapter before my brain starts to go mushy. and only so many times i can listen to colleagues who are ill loudly clear their throats and suck their respective snot back up into their nasal cavities. lovely sound, truly.

but at least i have a job.

i want to knit curb girl a pair of wristlets, but by the time i would finish them, it would be the heat of summer. i am sending her warm vibes and safe space heaters.

congratulations to my stepsister, who apparently eloped this week (or is eloping this week). thanks for not making me deal with a wedding or formal dress for my family! i hope she will be happy.

read some of chuck lorre's vanity cards today. the censored ones were funny. i really like The Big Bang Theory. it's one of the only things on tv that my dh and i can agree on.

okay--enough time wasted???

Shattered

This blurb reminded me of 80s nights (wednesdays?) at Shattered.
Other randomness--
When doves cry
Sweating it out over a fever pitch
Watching others buy me drinks
crowded bathrooms
black walls

And now, i probably couldn't even stay awake long enough to go out to an 80s club....

Wordle

This is a very cool site that makes pictures like I used to make in France, when I had no TV or computer to eat at my time. The wordle it makes for my blog isn't so accurate ("Farmer" and "Dell" featuring largely into the mix) but I will hit it again sometime soon.

Thanks to Anna for calling it to my attention!

My son is going to be a cardiologist

Or maybe he's secretly been listening in to Grey's Anatomy from his little bed.

This morning at the breakfast table, he sang:

"The farmer in the dale
The farmer in the dale
Heigh-ho the angio
The farmer in the dale."

i wonder if it's the money

It's supposed to help those who suffer from the "winter blues."

i need good workout songs

if you have any residing on an ipod somewhere that you want to tell me about, that would be great. i'm getting a little tired of the 40-odd on my running list on my nano. i need new blood. and as it's a completely different feel to the pandora channels i have set up for work, i am at a loss for inspiration.

inspire me!

test post

just testing a new piece of code.