Gym Dandy to the Rescue

So, I've been going to the club on a REGULAR basis for three weeks now. The resolutioners I spoke of are out in lovely abundance. I love each of their chubby butts. Including mine.

I am puzzled a bit though dear readers (you're out there I know it!) - the peeps that are on the stationary bikes, what are they doing exactly? Already I've noticed a select group of the same people on the bikes that are reading the paper. Can you really work hard and read the paper? I know I'm in the gender that can multitask, but reading the paper and sweating just does not seem to go hand in sweaty hand.

But there they sit, reading away. Dudes and Dudettes! Just buy a stationary bike and park it in front of your TV if that's what you want to do.

Already I'm all self-righteous aren't I? I have resolutioners fever.

For me - I'm an elliptical girl. I used to hate that damn machine and ran faithfully to the treadmill. But my ortho guy said elliptical and now I'm getting a bit obsessed about it. Quell surprise! Ha!

So I have my earbuds in, listening to the Rod Stewart that was in The Faces, looking around at my fellow rats.

Observations:

1. A few men who suffer from 70s-itis. No lie. Could those shorts be any shorter??
2. Why all the "skullets"?
3. Fellow chubs wearing sweatshirts. Again, Dude!, you'll be sweating here. You're not fooling anyone
4. All young uns are cute
5. Trainers like me. Because I'm a challenge? My elliptical wit? My bright, shining face that is becoming a regular?
6. Lots of machine-jumpers

Love it!

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Cooking with Style

Since I'm whole-hog into my wrecking ball I have been cooking. I've pulled out all my 3-ring notebooks that are stuffed with recipes. I've been going through all of them and editing. Have you ever pulled out some horrible recipe and thought to yourself, "WTF"? Why on earth would I ever want to make raisin custard pie? Shudder!

Pupcake is not an adventurous eater. In fact he eats like a 12 year old. A 12 year old that was never ever made to eat his vegetables. He's number seven out of eight kids and I think by that time his momma wasn't paying attention anymore. I'm guessing Pup's older sisters took care of him and probably let him have anything he wanted to just shut him up. I'm guessing here. ;)

So, to cook new recipes for this guy is challenging. It has frustrated me up to this point, but I finally figured out I've been going about it all wrong. He eats three things - that's just the facts. I don't eat maybe three things. So I've been just cooking. He will like or he won't. Tonight he ate something rather robustly that I feared he wouldn't touch. Score!

I love love love cooking.

Today I made a crustless and sugar free pumpkin pie. Light and fluffy.

Then I made a burger/sausage/rotel/cream cheese panfry to serve on buns. Nummy . . .

Yesterday I made quiche. Tomorrow deviled eggs, zuke appys, and a baked brie. I'll be drinking white wine and watching Gone with the Wind.

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The Resolutioners

You know them. They crowd into your gym, hogging all the ellipticals, not following the rules, sitting their bare arses on the benches in the locker room (true - this happened to me).

They eat and drink like mad the last week of the year then swear they will change now.

They clean closets, clean their cars, clean their minds.

I'm one. I never want to be one, but I am.

As much as it is cliché to start anew at this time of the year, what better time to do it? It's good. It's time. It's the thing to do.

I'm only smug because I started a few weeks ago. Resolutions for the new year are so 2009. Ha!

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The mii Bitch

Here she is. She looks all sweet and innocent, but she gets her arse kicked on a daily basis in whatever she is doing.

Seriously though, she is kind of cute yes? She is my constant companion lately. I play golf with her, I bowl with her, I do a humiliating balancing act with her. I let her holler insults at me while she measures my BMI.

I'll get her the little wii mii.

I have to admit I like it when she says, "You're strong! You have good balance"! She looks just like me.

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The Day After

Christmas was lovely. I cooked (despite my lack of domestic skills of late), Pupcake fetched Momma Betty, the kidlets came, and we had the best time drinking wine, playing Super Mario Bros (sooooo much fun even if I SUCK!), listening to The Beatles (thanks Pupcake! The best present ever!), and watching movies all cozied up in our afghans and snuggies.

So, while attempting to make whipped cauliflower for us girly-types I had difficulties with my Cuisinart. No matter what I did it wouldn't whip my vegies into a frenzy. Couldn't get it to turn on! Am I losing my touch? ;)

So I moved the glop into a mixing bowl and whipped with beaters (this all sounds provocative - it wasn't) showering me and Momma Betty with a rain of cauliflower. Momma B was ducking at one point! That cruciferiously-stubborn mess never did whip into the lovely and light side dish I had imagined in my Martha Stewart-place. Not even close. Not even a block away. Not even with binoculars. Aaah, the joy of cooking. I'll stick to the other joy-of thank you, thank you very much.

So, I sit here in my office, listening to George snore away in his chair and Pupcake working away at his dual-monitor while I count my blessing and ignore the rest.

Merry Christmas everyone. Now it's on to the new year!

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Oh Dear and Oh Oh

Pup and I remodeled our house a bit about a year ago, the kitchen being the biggest thing we tackled. It's quite lovely, but I must admit to not entirely loving the appliances we picked out.

We went with a company called LG. They look spiff, but I truly wanted a Sub-Zero fridge and a Wolf range. I don't have a Sub-Zero or Wolf budget so we bought the LGs. Piles I must say.

So, last night I'm making dinner and decide that I will use (for the first time) my broiler for the chicken breasts. I turn it on and put them in and before you can say "what's that smell"? flames are shooting out of the oven door.

Pup wants to grab the pan, run to the back door, and throw the mess out of the door. I'm wailing and throwing my hands akimbo saying, "no no no"! All I can imagine is hearing the dreaded, "oh oh" as Pup goes reeling through the dining room.

He looks at me and says, "Honey, we have a serious fucking problem here!" Even in his alarm, my Pup is calm and sensible.

After the crisis had been dealt with we were rolling on the floor with laughter repeating his sentence over and over. "Honey, we have a serious fucking problem here!" This will forever be our code for laughing until tears squirt out of our eyes.

End note of story - we ate the chicken breasts, but I admit to feeding much of mine to George.

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Promises

1. I won’t add music to my blog. I love me some good music, but people!, your music is annoying. (Is that complaining? See below.)
2. I won’t apologize only to please. No prisoners just might be something I need to embroider on a pillow. If I remembered how.
3. I won’t give up coffee. I swear to give up stuff all the time, but coffee will not be on that list. Ever. LOVE IT.
4. I won’t judge. No one loves a cranky-ass.
5. I won’t avoid. It’s a slippery place to live.
6. I won’t procrastinate. Well . . . can I get back to you on that one?
7. I won’t stop learning. I had a conversation with a woman a few years older than me who had also lost her job. She declared she was, “too old to learn anything new” and was not going to bother thinking about it. WTH.
8. I won’t complain. Get over my damn self.
9. I won’t be a resolutioner. Be steady.
10. Lastly, I won’t be unhappy. Happy is the best accessory.

Are you thinking about promises?

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Sunday Funnies

Two Tiger jokes - apologies, I just can't help myself.

Tiger in happier days.

Tiger should have taken a cue from Santa and stopped at three ho's.

Did you hear that Tiger is changing his name? He is now Cheetah Woods.

Da dum dum . . . I'm here all week peeps.

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