Monday, March 30, 2009

Move It Mama Monday - Fighting the Sleepies

I don't know about anybody else, but I tend to get the sleepies around 1PM most days. This is usually the time right after lunch when I'm reading stories to the Pixie before sending her to her room for quiet time. I'm fed, I'm lying on a bed or sitting on a couch, curled up with a snuggly bundle of Pixie joy, and I'm reading aloud, which for some reason always makes me yawn. I usually have a hard time keeping my eyes open after the first story, and by the third story, I'm nodding off in the middle of reading, only to be poked awake by my daughter who wants "more story, Mama!"

I know already that I don't get enough sleep. I like to get up at 5AM to work for a couple of hours before everyone else wakes, and that means I really should be in bed by 9PM. Most nights though, I'm lucky if I'm in bed by 10:30. That's not really enough sleep for me, especially if I do an intense workout that day. Invariably, I either end up fueling myself on caffeine, which I know is bad for me, or I eat too much to stay awake (also bad for me), or I crash around 1PM, and lose some of my precious afternoon work hours.

To fight the problem, I'm doing the following things. First, I'm trying my best to be in bed by 10PM. I really do feel the difference the next day. At least I don't feel the need to eat so much to stay awake. I'm also trying to clear my work schedule so I have less to do, making it easier to get to bed at 10. And finally, I'm trying to fight the afternoon sleepies by getting up and moving when I'd really rather take a nap.

I've decided that at 1PM, I can either do a few of the Wii Fit balance games or I can pull out the DDR mat and do 10-15 minutes on that. I stink at both activities, but I'm getting the results I want. I have to concentrate, and I have to keep moving, and that's usually enough to wake me up when I'm tired. It's the best solution I've come up with so far.

Of course, there are days when it doesn't work, days when I've stayed up far too late the night before and there's no way I can possibly stay awake. What to do then? Lie down and take a nap. I feel guilty later for not using that time to work, but I also have to admit I enjoy snuggling up beneath a blanket and catching a few Zs. So good in fact, I'm wondering if I should make it a part of my routine followed by a few minutes of DDR or Wii Fit to wake up. I'll have to see.

Do you get sleepy in the afternoon? How do you stay awake? Or do you prefer to nap?

So I'm working

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Poetry? The Walk

I make no claims to being a poet. This is simply what came to me yesterday as the Pixie and I walked through our neighborhood in the rain.

The Walk

The world is mine today
Empty, abandoned
In the wake of some apocalypse
I must have slept through this morning

Dull little houses line
Oil-slicked streets
Blank windows, locked doors
Sing a requiem
for Suburbia

The ground is black
And bitter as used coffee grounds
The sky is gray
As my mood
Or the hair I found
This morning

One wiry antennae
Sticking straight up
From my skull
Receiving all messages of
Doom and gloom

Doom and gloom
Gloom and doom
Mist wraps around me
A second, clammy coat
My bat black umbrella
Flaps overhead
The leaden sky bleeds acid rain
Forcing all the sugar mamas
To stay inside
And gawk as I shuffle by

They'll melt, they'll melt
My god, they'd melt!
If they ever set foot outside

But I don't have
That concern today
I'm old and sour
As a basket
Of assholes
And the rain, the rain
Fits me like a glove

Doom and gloom
Gloom and doom
The world is mine
The world is grey
And I shuffle through it
A zombie at home

In the damp, in the dead
In the swampy mists
Only one thing seems amiss
One small detail out of place
The little Pixie who dances
At my side

Her tiny pink coat
Is a shocking wound
In all this glorious misery gray
It rips me
Out of my stupor and into
A world where squirrels
Natter and birds
Shriek and shrill and puddles
Wait to be stomped

Splash and dash!
Dash and splash!
She flits around
The little busy buzzy bee
Tearing my world apart

Her high pitched giggle
Like a sword-thrust
To my senses
Simply kills my good bad mood
Like holy water on vampires
I am forced to step out of my
Steaming gothic remains
Into the world of the living

Splash and dash!
Dash and splash!
Look Mama
A bird!
A squirrel!
Another puddle!

The world is hers
Not mine
I hope I can surrender it
With grace

Friday, March 27, 2009

Fiction Friday - The Mummy Case

One thing I really want to do more of these days is read, and since I got my netbook and an account at I've read four books so far since Christmas, and while that may not seem like a lot, that's way up from last year's reading, as least as far as fiction goes. I regularly read computer graphics magazines and skim through tech manuals, but that's not enough to satisfy my soul. I'm a fiction writer, so I need to be a fiction reader, too. Besides, I love reading too much and have been jonesing for some good stories to devour.

Right now, I'm enjoying Elizabeth Peter's 'The Mummy Case.' This is the third book in the Amelia Peabody books, one of my favorite mystery series. The stories are all set in Egypt at the turn of the century. Amelia Peabody and her archeologist husband, Radcliffe Emerson, delve into the mysteries of ancient Egypt while dealing with contemporary crimes. This particular case involves the murder of an illegal antiquities dealer, Protestant missionaries raising havoc with the Muslim populace, and a Roman style cemetary in Coptic Egypt. And of course, the titular mummy case, which appears and vanishes repeatedly throughout the tale.

One of the best things about the Amelia Peabody series is the relationship between Peabody and her husband Emerson. They almost never address each other by first name, but prefer the affectionate use of last names instead. Peabody is a strong-willed, educated woman in a time period where woman were expected to be anything but strong-willed and educated. She enjoys adventure, loves Egypt as much as her archeologist husband, and defies all the conventions of her time. Her husband is an excellent match for her - handsome but hot headed, equally intelligent and educated, a believer in equality for all people, and a non-believer in all religious aspects. They're an unusual pair, to be sure, but there's a strong, invigorating romance going on between them that's both passionate and believable.

And that's probably what I enjoy the best. I am no reader of romances, mainly because I can't buy into the idea of two people falling in love at first sight and immediately running off to get married and live happily ever after. That's not to say I don't believe in love at first sight, but after 15 years with my husband, I know love takes a hell of a lot of work to make it last. Most romances don't show me any of that work in progress; they fail to display the foundations for a lasting relationship in my opinion. Yes, heroine and hero may desire each other, yes they must triumph over many obstacles to be together, but all their gooey-eyed protestations of love in the end don't make for a lasting relationship. Peabody and Emerson share a sense of practicallity that reminds me so much of my own marriage, it's almost frightening. For starters, Peabody doesn't get all bent out of shape when her husband argues with her (he almost never believes her 'fantasies' of looming danger or crimes about to be committed). Instead, she knows he'll eventually come around when enough evidence of a crisis presents itself. In the mean time, she humors him and continues to investigage on her own. As for Emerson, he may blow his top from time to time, even at her, but he knows how to apologize, and he knows better than to try and keep his wife under his thumb to prevent her from doing the things he thinks she shouldn't be doing.

I guess what I''m trying to say is that there is no angst in this relationship. They don't worry that one may not love the other. It's simply an accepted fact between them. I by far prefer that type of romantic relationship to one where the heroine has to play 'he loves me, he loves me not' and that ends up being all she does in the book. I also appreciate the fact that Peabody doesn't play games with her husband. She's up front with him, blunt even, about what she wants, where she's going, etc. She doesn't need to make him jealous, and in fact is careful to avoid situations where she feels he might become jealous, as she knows he'll kill any one who dares to assume an unwarrented familiarity with his wife. It's not that he fears Peabody will leave him for another man. He just thinks other men should know their place.

So I'm enjoying the Mummy Case, and the entire series. And I really love the fact that I can get all these books in e-format. It's just so convenient to be able to buy and immediate download the books and keep them on my netbook so I have the entire library at my fingertips. Although I have discovered one inconvenience with this set up.

I can't read the netbook in the tub. Dang.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Potato and Sausage Stew - FTW!

This is for the very talented Mr. Phil Rossi - amazing
musician, wonderful writer, and an all-around great guy who is always more than welcome to drop by any time I've got a fresh pot of
stew bubbling in the slow cooker ;)

This recipe is modified from the Potato and Bratwurst Stew recipe found in BHG's 5 Ingredient Slow Cooker Recipes cook book.

  • 14 oz no fat chicken broth

  • 1 cup water

  • 1 10 1/2 oz can condensed cream of chicken soup

  • 1 lb sausage (bratwurst, kielbalsa, smoked sausage, or whatever you choose), sliced

  • 1 20 oz package refridgerated shredded potatoes, preferably southwestern style

  • 1 package frozen golden corn

  • 2 cans dark red kidney beans

Put all ingredients into slow cooker and mix together. Set slow cooker on low and cook for 8 hrs, or set on high and cook for 4 hours.

If you can't find southwestern style shredded potatoes, add 2 teaspoons crushed red pepper and 2 teaspoons minced garlic. Serve with
fresh cornbread. This makes a pretty big pot of stew, but it's a great comfort food and everybody here loves it!

Hope you enjoy the recipe, especially you, Mr. Rossi ;)

Monday, March 23, 2009

Move It Mama Monday - Finding My Get Up and Go

I hate being sick. I had thought the cold I picked up before heading out to Vegas would be over within a week or so, but the damn thing has lingered, mutating into a sinus infection and sapping me of my will to live. I spent most of last week shuffling around the house, still one of the living dead. If I had energy, I made sure the exercise, but then I usually paid for it the next day by feeling dead again.

I talked to Patty, one of moms in the Screeching Harpies Moms' Posse (we are NOT a mommies group), and found out she'd had similar problems, so at least I feel better knowing it's not just a case of me being lazy. Something really is going around turning folks into zombies. But that knowledge still doesn't solve the problem of getting me back on my feet. I really need to get back into the swing of things, and I'm wondering if I should just force myself to get back to karate and swimming (the toughest activities I do these days), or if I should just continue to languish around the house a few more days until I feel better.

Right now, I'm opting for somewhere in between. I've decided to get into the pool one day and do ten or so laps (not too many or I know I'll be dead the next day), and then one other day spend half an hour on karate practice. I'm also trying to get back to daytime karate classes, because I'm too wiped out in the evenings, but I don't know if I'm really up to that much exercise yet or not.

One other thing I've decided is that I do not have to do my exercise right off the bat, heading out for the gym or stepping on the Wii Fit as soon as the Princess is off to school. I'd rather ease into my day right now, taking a little time to do a few easy chores, get myself warmed up. And of course, take some time to play a little music to get myself into the mood to exercise.

This was a little trick I discovered yesterday that actually got me into the gym. I had already decided not to go workout. I'd focus on getting laundry done instead. But while I was doing laundry, I put ABBA in the CD player, and what do you know? In a few minutes, I was dancing around the bedroom. It only took two songs to get my blood pumping and raise my mood out of the depths of blah. I ended up throwing a few things into my gym bag as soon as the laundry was put away and heading out the door. I did 30 minutes of karate practice, and it felt good.

And naturally, I paid for it today. I over slept big time this morning, and have been dragging around all morning. I limped through karate class, and am struggling to stay awake through Princess' swim class now. And I still have laundry to do when I get home.

Maybe I'll play some more ABBA and that'll wake me up in time to go out for the evening.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Coming Together: Al Fresco - Availabe April 22nd, 2009!


If you love erotica and the great outdoors, here's your chance to enjoy the two combined! Coming Together: Al Fresco, edited by Alessia Brio, will be out on Earth Day, April 22nd, through All Romance e-Books. Yes, your's truly is in this one, with an m/m erotic tale entitled 'Afternoon of a Faun.' This book will be in e-format only, in keeping with the conservation theme. You can pre-order Al Fresco now, and remember, all proceeds benefit Conservation International. GREEN is the new black!

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Beetlejuice, 1991-2009

It has taken me two weeks to get around to writing this. I can't say if it's because I have grown to hate writing these eulogies for my pets or if it's because I'm so damned tired and worn out these days. Maybe both.

Beetlejuice, the oldest of the three cats who lived with me during the last 17 years, passed away two weeks ago in the beginning of March. I knew his time was coming soon. He was old, older than any other cat I can recall hearing of, and he had begun to slow down so much the last few weeks. This time wasn't like it was with Lydia or Fritti. There didn't seem to be any suffering until the very end, and even that seemed more like fatigue than actual pain or misery.

I was actually there when BJ was born. He's from the first litter of my mother's cat, Bonnie. Bonnie is a registered Himalayan, still prowling around my folk's place at the grand age of 18 or 19. Mom had her breed when she was around a year and a half old, and BJ was one of the results of that. He was born with five other kittens on a day I'll never forget. I was attending Officer Basic Course at Fort Eustis that year, and staying with my parents rather than staying on post. I had been out all night working as staff duty officer. I was beat and ready to collapse in bed when I walked through the door and saw Bonnie walking around the den meowing and dragging something behind her. That something turned out to be a new born kitten still connected to her by the umbilical cord. I woke up my mom and she and I delivered the next couple of kitten. Then my dad came home to help out. He and mom pulled out the last two kittens because they were breech and Bonnie was too exhausted to push any more while I toweled off the others, thinking to myself, "God these things look ugly!"

They did look ugly, like little yellow rats, but that phase only lasted a few days and pretty soon they were fluffy blind moles squeaking and scuffling to get at their mother's milk. It became my job to rotate the kittens, making sure each tiny ball of fluff got a chance at the back nipples where the milk was better. We had a couple of nipple hogs in that group who actively fought my attempts to move them away from the prime feeding spots, but somehow I managed to keep all the babies fed.

I stayed a few more months at my folk's, rotating kittens and finishing up OBC. We made one trip over the Christmas holidays to my grandmother and took the kittens and my then-fiance Michael with us. The kittens adored Michael and turned him into a giant jungle gym, climbing all over him and pouncing on him. He seemed to adore them as well, which was good since I knew eventually one of the little fuzz butts was going to be mine. I didn't know which one though until my mother gave him to me. He was a male blue point Himalayan with the biggest blue eyes I'd ever seen. I was addicted to the cartoon 'Beetlejuice' then, so I named him Beetlejuice, and even had him registered as 'Beetlejuice, Prince of Neitherworld.'

BJ came to live with me in Blacksburg when he was old enough, first in the Terrace View apartment I shared with two roommates, and then in the apartment on Washington Street that I had to myself. I didn't want him to be alone all day while I was at classes, so I adopted a scrawny orange tabby to keep him company. That crazy critter was Fritti, who grew up to be a big lug of orange not-quite-tom-cat (I had all my cats fixed as soon as they were old enough). And then of course a few weeks later, someone asked me if I would adopt a third cat that they couldn't keep themselves and that's how I got a cuddly black and brown tabby I named Lydia.

Life with three cats was always an adventure. BJ was probably the calmest of the three, although you couldn't tell it from the picture above. He liked to play, but tended to let the other two cats take the lead. He would sometimes chase Lydia around the house, forcing her to vault to the top of the china cabinet in our dining room where she would then puke up a bunch of cat treats and leave them there for me to discover weeks later. But I think the strangest behavior BJ ever exhibited was his interest in human sexual relations. Michael and I could not have sex without him watching, unless we shut him out of the room. In fact, BJ liked to sit on our feet when we were making love, and would complain a bit if he got shoved about. When we were done with our activities, he liked to walk all over us, sniffing. Michael called him 'the Sex Inspector,' saying BJ obviously had to check and see if we had done things right, and of course we were never done with sex unless we had his seal of approval.

BJ acquired a lot of nicknames over the years. There was BJ, of course, and Beej. Also BeeGee, Boojoo, Booper, Mr. Booper, Mr. Buddy, Mr. Bloomers (because of the way his rear end looked with all that fluffy fur), and Fuzz Butt. He adored Michael and could not stand to be locked out of the office when Michael was working. In fact, if I opened the door to the office while Michael was working, BJ would take the opportunity to dart up the stairs and launch himself into Michael's lap, where he would demand to be petted.

There were other cute/odd behaviors. He liked to walk around the house in the middle of the night yowling at the top of his lungs, always waking me up. This happened more and more after Fritti died. Fritti was our original opera cat, who loved to yodel at all hours. BJ also loved to lie in the tub during the summer, to cool off. I took him to the vet some summers to have him groomed, and the other cats always stared and snickered whenever BJ came back. I have to admit, he did look funny with all his fur clipped, though they never shaved his tail. That was always full, grey and gorgeous.

I always thought that BJ would be the first to pass away, because we'd had more health problems with him than the other two. He nearly died while I was pregnant with Sam. In fact, all three cats were hit with some sort of illness that year that involved me spending lots of time nursing them and giving them subcutaneous fluids until they got well enough to fight me off. But Fritti went first, and then Lydia a year later. I knew with BJ it was only a matter of time.

After Fritti died, BJ seemed to enter a sort of renaissance, suddenly strutting around the house, playing like he hadn't in years, and acting like the cock of the walk. Though I know he and Fritti loved each other (they constantly groomed each other and acted like lovers), I always thought that BJ was a bit intimidated by Fritti. Without the alpha cat in the house, I guess BJ felt he was now large and in charge. It was nice to see him act so lively and healthy. His slow down at the end was so gradual, I really didn't notice what was going on until the last month.

His eating tapered off first. He was always a picky eater, most likely to snub his meals in favor of treats, and likely to suddenly snub them too when the mood hit. But we reached a point where neither treats nor any sort of wet food would do. Then he stopped drinking water. I was able to coax him to take a few sips if I refilled the bowl in his site, but after a while even that stopped. Eventually we reached a point where all BJ would do was stare at his food and water bowls and then meander off somewhere to sleep.

During the last month, he came to see me while I was taking a bath. I don't know what inspired him to do this, but he jumped up onto the side of the tub and then tried to leap across. He missed and landed in the water and on top of me. He didn't fly into a full blown panic like I would have expected, but he did scratch up my foot pretty good. I still have a mark there. But that was the first indication to me that he was starting to go. If he couldn't leap from one side of the tub to the other, his days were numbered. Eventually, I began to hear occasional thumps and thuds and crashes throughout the house - all attempted and failed leaps that BJ was making. On the last day, these sounds were the worst. He wanted into the bath tubs, so he could lie on a cool surface, but he couldn't seem to get into the tubs without falling over the side and landing in a heap. He hurt his leg trying, and limped through the last day of his life, but he wouldn't let me help him get into or out of any place. He limped from one spot to another - my tub, the kids' tub, the floor in front of my bathroom sink, a spot behind the toilet. I did managed to get him onto my bed at one point, and I thought he would die there. He fell asleep, and his breathing grew so slow. But then every now and then he'd wake up and yowl. Eventually, he tried to leave the bed when I wasn't looking, and there was another crash and a thump. I ran into the room to see him limp away to another spot.

All that day, it snowed. The kids played outside with Michael, making a snowman, while I folded laundry and tried to pack for my trip to Vegas. I called the vet around 2PM, determined to see BJ taken care of before I left. I was not going to let him linger and suffer while I flew off to a conference, and I was not going to shift that responsibility onto Michael. However, around 9PM, after the kids had gone to bed, taking care of BJ became a moot point. He tottered into the girls' bathroom one last time and slumped on the floor. His breathing was so labored at that point, each intake was a gasp followed by a lengthy silence. I knew he was in his final hour, and yet once again, I found myself torn between trying to tend to him and prepare for the conference I was attending in two days. I decided to leave BJ alone. He had wandered away from all my other attempts to take care of him, and I think he just didn't want to be bothered anymore. Sometime while I was putting the finishing touches on some notes and sending out e-mails in the bedroom down the hall, he passed away. Michael and I had to spend several minutes to make sure he was gone; it was so hard to tell toward the end. But he had finally passed away, and I'm not even sure if I heard his last gasp as I left to finish my packing or if he had lasted a few minutes longer.

We took BJ in to be cremated the next day. Cassie hadn't quite understood the day before what was going on. She knew BJ was dying, but to her that meant we'd be getting a new cat soon, and that was all she could think of. It wasn't until I tried to explain to her, and then blew up when she refused to stop talking about a new cat, that she finally realized BJ was not going to be around any more. I don't make any excuses for losing my temper, nor do I offer any regrets. I tried my best to explain that a cat I loved was dying but it took a time out and some yelling to get the point to sink into the Princess' brain. As for Pixie, she only knows that BJ died, but not what that means. I think it confused her that we took his body into the vet's the next day, but when we came back the next week, we only walked out with a small white box. I tried to explain that BJ's ashes were in the box, but it made no sense to her.

So my three cats are now all gone. They were good, loving, loyal companions for many years. Now they all share the same shelf in my bed room, three little white boxes lined up in front of my favorite books. At times it feels so horrifically unfair, but what other end did I expect? They were old. This is what happens. And life goes on.

We will not be getting another cat any time soon. Michael and I plan to try for a third baby this summer, and as Michael points out, a new cat presents certain health concerns for a pregnant mother. And even after the baby is born, we'll still wait a few months. It wouldn't be fair to any animal to come into a house with an infant. I'd be so sleep deprived and cranky, I know I wouldn't be in any shape to care for two new additions to the family.

Until the times comes for a new cat, I will have my memories of these three - Fritti, Lydia and BJ. Good cats all, crazy as hell, and the best companions I could ever have asked for. You guys will be sorely missed.

Fritti - 1992-2007

Lydia - 1992-2008

Beetlejuice, 1991-2009


Monday, March 16, 2009

Move It Mama Monday - I'm Sick!

I have been soooo sick the past week. The cold I picked up right before my trip to Vegas turned into a full-blown sinus infection. I oozed the most disgusting grey-green snot all last week. It was really strange too. I had one day, Wednesday, when I actually felt all right, and I tried to do my normal routine. Then Thursday morning came with a double whammy of leaky sinuses and massive headache and I could barely crawl out of bed. In fact, I believe I declared that day a Blow Off Day and celebrated it accordingly.

I am still not fully recovered - I sound a lot like Donald Duck, I'm so stuffed up - but I am feeling a bit better. But last week, I was led to question the idea of exercising while sick.

If you've never tried the Wii Fit before, it has this little motivational character that looks like the Wii Fit balance board on speed. This cheerful little anthropomorphized tyrant likes to prod users along, urging them to do the Body Test every day, even if you can't find time to exercise. We've had the Wii Fit a month now, and the only days I've missed doing that body test were the days I was in Vegas, and there was just no way possible I could zip across county to do the test (and I sure as hell wasn't carting that thing with me to Vegas!). But otherwise, even when sick and jetlagged, I hopped on the balance board to be weighed and have my balance checked. It was a little discouraging. Wii Fit doesn't care if you're sick and you've decided to starve a fever and stuff your face. However, I realized that if I hopped onto the Wii Fit to do the Body Test, chances where pretty good that I'd stay on at least 10 minutes longer to do the balance games or even a little light cardio (some of the step games are easy enough that even sick, I could do them without getting winded).

I also discovered that just by doing the balance games alone, I could still work up a bit of a sweat. Balancing takes a lot of muscles strength. So I didn't get the full blown workouts I had built myself up to over the last couple of weeks on the Wii Fit, but I did get some exercise in, and that was better than nothing.

Today, I went back to the usual routine - 4 minutes of hula hooping to warm up, 15 minutes of yoga, 20 minutes of cardio, 10 minutes of balance games. The only down side to being sick that I've noticed is that somehow I can no longer do the hula hooping games so well. I'll have to build back up to my original high scores. But I'll get there. And best yet?

I've lost 3 pounds in the last four weeks. Not a huge drop, but a steady one, and if I can keep it up, I'll eventually get back to my ideal weight.

Just in time to get pregnant again ;)

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Blow Off Day Again!

I hereby officially declare today to be Blow Off Day. I've been struggling with jet lag, a sinus infection, and finances all week. I thought I had at least two of these things licked yesterday (not the finances, at least not yet), but then the Hubster pulled out a movie rental and said, "Hey, let's watch Iron Man!"

So we stayed up way too late to watch the first half of Iron Man and I have this to say about the movie. Iron Man is a very good movie, but not good enough for me to stay up late a second night in the row so I can feel wasted on Friday. Don't get me wrong. I really, really enjoyed the movie, but I really, really hate feeling like crap when I've got a mountain of work confronting me.

I tried getting up at 5AM this morning, like I'm supposed to, and I swear I felt body parts drop off of me as I shuffled zombie-like into the bathroom. So I gathered up everything that fell off and piled back into bed. Then I dragged myself out again at 7AM to get the Princess up and going. I managed to launch her out the door with the Hubster by 8AM, and then I went back to bed.

Pixie woke up some time between 8 and 9. I lay dying in my bed while she puttered around in her room. Then at some point I opened my eyes and found her staring at me over the edge of the bed. She cuddled with me for a while, got bored with her mother the corpse, and then ran into my closet, pulled out the clothes I'd left hanging on the door knob, and told me to "GET DRESSED!"

I did not get dressed, but I did get up. Pixie has been fed, and I comforted myself with a veggie eggroll and a hot cup of tea before collapsing back on the couch again. I'm slowly starting to come to life. I think I may have a hot bath, a spin on the Wii Fit to do the body test, and then... Well hell, I don't know. I need to keep going on my finances, getting bank statements entered and pulling together tax info. I need to write a short story. I need to get to work on a cartoon. I've got a to do list a mile long, but the couch is so comfy and I'm so tired. And did I mention I'm oozing green snot?

Yeah, it's Blow Off Day for sure.

Monday, March 09, 2009

Move It Mama Monday - Wii Fit Hates Me!

I'm knocking this out real quick before I go to bed, because I promised I'd do a Move It Mama Monday post every week, and after the first post I promptly missed the next week, and I'm about to miss this week too.

First off, I still love the Wii Fit, but it hates me. WTF? you ask. It's simple. I love getting on the Wii Fit and playing the games, and I was seeing a slow, steady decline in my weight, but then I went to Vegas for a few days and when I got back my weight was up 2.2 lbs, and Wii Fit scolded me for it, and nagged at me for not being around the last five days! Yes, it said I was a slacker who had gained weight and it wanted to know the reason why I was suddenly so porky. And you know what? That little twerp doesn't offer water weight as an excuse!

In all honesty, I went to Vegas for 5 days for EPICon 2009, an e-publishing convention. One of those days was mostly spent on the plane flying out there and then another was spent on the trip coming back. I came down with a nasty cold the day I left, and had a jam-packed schedule from the moment I landed in Vegas, so that made exercising and foraging for healthy food a little tough. Still, I didn't think I had done that badly. I swam laps in the pool twice while I was there, and walked around the resort, making sure to take the steps instead of any elevators. Plus, except for two meals, I really didn't feel like I had over-indulged. Yeah, I got two desserts at the Eppies Awards Banquet, and yes, there weren't nearly enough fresh fruits and vegetables in my diet during those few days. But damn, I tried! I avoided eating lots and lots of greasy meals by going out every day. In fact, I only ordered two meals for room service - dinner the night I arrived and breakfast the next morning, because I had no other way to get a meal being on a resort. It was either room service or go to the resort restaurants. And I stretched those two meals I ordered, making them both last a couple of days because they were so huge. But other than that, I was good I tell you!

Oh, but I did get a gellato one afternoon.

And there was this greasy bagel sandwich I ate at the airport the morning I left.

And the Moe's burrito I had during my layover in Atlanta.

Plus a huge Cinnabun thing on the morning flying back.

And an order of Moe's nachos during the layover on my way back.

Well crud. I guess I wasn't so good after all. Back to vegetarian meals and more Wii Fit for me! We'll see how much I weigh next Monday.