Death by Groupon

I had another "who am I and what have I done with myself" moment today:

My Club WW buddy who likes to tempt fate has convinced me to go rock climbing with her again this weekend and zip lining the next. The above discussion is something I never expected to see on my iPhone, trying to schedule not one but two death defying acts of madness.

We each bought Groupons and it's time to cash them in before they expire. I like buying Groupons, but usually for lunch or dinner with The Professor. Testing my mortality on a discount is a bit more extreme but seemed like a good idea at the time.

This will be my third rock climbing adventure, although my first with a bruised rib cage (I'm still sore from the bear hug incident). I'm debating whether or not to wear the body armor bra I bought to keep the girls in place when I run (that's a story for another post).

But it's the next weekend that's making me nervous. 

Zip lining. That's where I'm strapped in a sling and swung through the trees on a clothes line.

Dillypoo has finally lost the last of her marbles, although I did have enough sense to tell Carla "no" when she suggested we try sky diving.

LOL for Today

Life Lesson No. 12

Never sneak up on a co-worker and give him a bear hug from behind:

He may just try and shake you off which could result in a trip to the doctor for an X-ray to determine if your ribs are broken or bruised.

Luckily, they're just bruised. And very sore. Thank goodness for prescription strength Ibuprofen.

Weight Loss Blah

The holidays are over and it's time for Dillypoo to come clean. For the first time in more than a year, I am over my goal weight:

I'm  within two pounds of my goal weight, which means I'm still a free lifetime member. But that's not good enough.

I have gained 7 pounds since October.

SEVEN POUNDS.

Ugh.

Dillypoo's inner child is in official timeout and it's time for a Crap Ban. No cookies,  no sweets, no chips. For two weeks. That should be long enough to curb the cravings and get me back on track.

My first goal? Lose 3-5 pounds before I head to Maui on February 11.

Thanks for the nudge, Brandy! I needed it.

Excuse Me

I can't figure out why I'm not blogging regularly. I want to blog. I love my blog!

But I'm ignoring my blog.

Part of it is because I still haven't got my internet issues fixed at home. It's a royal pain in the arse to crawl under the desk and unplug the router from the wall to re-boot the internet just so I can insert a link or photo into a post.

That's excuse number one.

Another part of it is I don't know where this blog is going. That's excuse number two. I lost the weight, so I'm not a weight loss blog anymore. I run, but blogging about running is boring.

I ran. It was cold. I collapsed into a hot bath when I got home.

See. DULL.

I'll figure it all out, though. I just hope you hang with me until I do.

Happy new year!

Holiday Weigh Day Update

Dillypoo was a bit anxious about weigh day today. Last week was a challenge with two Christmas parties, the office pot luck lunch, an afterwork meeting and a festive Friday filled with food and booze:

I knew I would exceed my allotted Club WW points:

Although I didn't think I'd go over quite that much.

But it's the holidays and it was only one week, right? I figured the fun I had would be worth the 2-3 pounds I'd gain. I can work that off pretty quickly so long as I leave the parties in the past and return to healthy eating habits and running like a crazy woman.

Even so, I was still nervous as I headed towards my meeting. I've been gaining and losing the same 2.5 pounds since October:

I hoped I was still under goal when I stepped on the scale. I may even have crossed my fingers for good luck as I prepared for the worst:

I was, to use an expression from my friend down under, gobsmacked!

Yes, I gained, but it was less than 2 pounds and I am still under my goal weight!

I am so ready to tackle the family gatherings this weekend.

Twas the Night Before Weigh In

Twas the night before weigh in, when all through the house

Not a nibble was missing, for me or a mouse.

The cookies were Ziplocked in baggies with care,

In hopes that Dillypoo soon would be there.

The Professor was nestled all snug in his bed,

While visions of sugar-plums danced in my head.

I carefully opened some new gingersnaps,

And Stella caught crumbs as they fell in my lap.

Then all of sudden there arose such a clatter,

I drew back from the cookies to see what was the matter.

Away from the kitchen I flew like a flash,

Tore back up the stairs and checked on my stash

Of holiday treats tucked above and below

My desk and my purse and the fake mistletoe.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But my guilt-laden Conscience, with a gasp and a tear.

With a wave of her finger, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it wasn't a trick.

Or maybe it was and my mind was insane,

'Cuz she whistled and shouted and called me bad names!

"You glutton! You fool! You sweets loving vixen!

You moron! You numskull! What have you been fixin?

Go out to the porch! To the bins by the wall!

Grab the sweets and the cookies, grab the snacks, grab it all!"

My inner-child started pouting and wanted to cry.

I wanted my treats, the candy and pie.

But up to the house-top my Conscience she flew,

With a sleigh full of guilt and admonishments, too.

I tried to ignore her and stay quite aloof,

But she pestered and nagged like a bothersome goof.

I pushed her aside and was turning around,

When down through the chimney she came with a bound.

She was stylishly dressed, from her head to her foot,

Her clothes were designer, including her boots.

A bundle of fruit she had slung on her back,

She looked like a vegan with recycled sack.

But her eyes how they twinkled! Her dimples how merry!

Her cheeks were like roses, her nose like a cherry!

Her droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And her smile revealed teeth as white as the snow.

I envied her look, her style and svelte sheath,

And fairies encircled her head like a wreath. 

She had a small face and a tight little belly,

That looked nothing at all like a bowl full of jelly.

She was healthy and trim, a jolly cute elf,

And I laughed when I saw her in spite of myself!

A wink of her eye and a twist of her head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

She spoke no more insults, but went straight to work,

And replaced all my junk with veggies and fruit.

Then laying a finger aside of her nose, 

And giving a nod up the chimney she rose.

She sprang to her sleigh then gave me a whistle,

And away she flew like the down of a thistle,

But I heard her exclaim as she drove out of sight,

"Happy weigh in tomorrow, and to you a good night!"

How to Wrap a Cat

Meowy holidays!

'Tis the Season

The Professor and Dillypoo decorated our tree last night:

We keep the holidays pretty low key. A simple Norfolk pine with a single strand of blue fairy lights and a smattering of silver and white ornaments.

It's a far cry from the lollapalooza of Christmas decor Dillypoo used to dump on our home. Somewhere under the staircase are boxes and boxes of artificial garlands, colored lights and several hundred Walt Disney ornaments.

Yes. Hundreds. Dillypoo used to obsessively collect Disney ornaments.

I used to start decorating the day after Thanksgiving, draping the house with lights, greenery and ribbon. The tree alone took a solid three days to finish.

And then I'd go shopping.

I'd buy gifts for The Professor, my family, friends and co-workers. I'd buy gifts for myself, just in case Santa forgot something. I'd spend money I didn't have on things nobody needed or really wanted.

The Professor would shut down during December, watching in dismay as I went berserk with tinsel and glitter. He didn't understand me and I couldn't understand his lack of enthusiasm for everything red and green.

It caused tension between us.

A few years ago, The Professor tried inserting some sanity into my crazy. He suggested we draw names as a family. We tried it, but Dillypoo's Christmas insanity is genetic. My family rebelled and a secret gift exchange circumvented Christmas morning.

It was around that same time when Dillypoo started her new job. After working insane hours from Labor Day until Thanksgiving, I was too tired to spend days decorating the house and putting up a tree laden with Mickey Mouse and his friends. I left the garlands under the stairs and my hundreds of ornaments in their boxes.

But I continued my excessive shopping, going into debt and arguing with The Professor.

Two years ago he finally convinced me and my family to forgo exchanging gifts with each other and focus on the kiddos instead. And for two years, The Professor has been more lighthearted during the holidays while Dillypoo secretly pouted.

This year I'm finally coming around to his way of thinking. After years of forcing my traditions of holiday excess on him, I'm learning to appreciate his more subdued approach to celebrating the season.

Last night we decorated our little pine tree together, an activity I always did alone. And tomorrow we're going shopping together to buy gifts for two children on the Salvation Army Angel Tree.

I still kind of miss shopping and buying gifts for everyone, but I'm also glad I won't blow my budget. This year I'm applying another blogger's rhyme (thank you, Liz) while selecting gifts for The Professor: something he wants, something he needs, something to wear and something to read.

I've been mulling all of this for the past few weeks, dreading Christmas and the stress leading up to December 25. Until now.

Honey, after 20 years I finally get it. It's not about the lights and gifts under the tree. It's about being together and celebrating family and love and each other.

Merry Christmas! I love you.

Ford Ferraris

I'm sick of not blogging. My home computer continues to freeze every time I visit Blogger, whether to visit other sites or just peek at mine. So how am I managing to get this one up? By blogging at work.


Shhhhh! Don't tell anyone. 


I rationalized the decision as the best way to increase my office productivity. Instead of sitting at my desk pining about my blog, I'll whip out a post and then tackle the pile of crap on my floor that needs attention:

Blogging is so much more fun than cleaning. Although I am looking forward to finding my desk again.

-----

The Professor has a steel trap mind for unimportant and usually annoying details that he likes to trot out during arguments or casual conversation. Dillypoo, on the other hand, has trouble remembering what she ate for breakfast.

I think he secretly enjoys recalling some travesty of justice committed on my part, like forgetting a date or asking him to repeat what he said 10 minutes earlier. Sometimes our conversations mimic my parents, except I am my father and he's my mother:

The Professor/Mom: "We have to do this thing next weekend at that time with those people."

Dillypoo/Daddypoo: "OK."

The Professor/Mom: "And then we're meeting you-know-who afterwards to discuss something important."

Dillypoo/Daddypoo: "OK."

The Professor/Mom: "We'll need to take the whatchamacallit, too."

Dillypoo/Daddypoo: "OK."

The Professor/Mom: "Are you listening?"

Dillypoo/Daddypoo: "Yeah. Did you say something?"

But most of his tidbits of stored information involve some error of judgement or confusion of fact on my part, usually those that make me look foolish. For instance, I once mistook a vintage Chevy driving down the road for an old Packard. To my chagrin and his delight, all cars built prior to 1955 are now referred to as Packards.

So it's a special occasion when I catch The Professor in a flub. While I may not remember the details to laud before him during some future debate, I can blog about it in the present.

Revenge is sweet.

Saturday, a little convertible GT raced passed us and The Professor gasped, "Did you see that?"

Dillypoo: "What? Where?"

The Professor: "There! A Ford Ferrari!"

Dillypoo: "A what???"

The Professor: "Uh....I mean..."

The sun shone brightly for a moment and I think I heard angels sing. The Professor, who has motor oil coursing through his veins, had grievously misidentified a classic car!

I mean, it would've been one thing had he called it a mini-Packard. But a Ford Ferrari? Giggles and glee filled me from inside. I had only to wait.

And remember.

Opportunity presented itself later that afternoon in the Costco parking lot. As we searched for a parking space, our paths crossed with another sporty convertible and I yelled, "Look out for that Ford Ferrari!"

I couldn't help myself.

The Professor looked at me and grinned sheepishly. Because he knows that from this day forward, all convertibles will now be known as Ford Ferraris.

Falling Into Bad Habits

I've stopped blogging.

I'm eating out too much.

I'm not running as often as I should.

I've gained three pounds.

Dillypoo is kicking her inner child back to the curb and taking control again. See you again very soon.

Post Halloween Sugar Crash

Yesterday was Dillypoo's favorite holiday, Halloween!

Want some candy, my pretty?

It's the day I get to dress up and be silly, more so than usual. I was a witch this year (surprise!). Raise your hand if you're shocked I had this ensemble already hanging in my closet:

Note to self: hip thrust poses result
in a pregnant looking Witchypoo.

Halloween is also the one day of the year I allow myself to eat candy. A lot of candy. For weeks I've been looking forward to sitting on my porch and sharing a cauldron of sweets with a few hundred trick-or-treaters:

One for you, one for me, one for you, one for me...

I ate five or six fun size candy bars before switching to Twizzlers and Tootsie Rolls. I stopped counting after awhile and simply enjoyed the decadence of eating sweets like a 10-year old.

Trick or treat! Gimme something good to eat!

These undead little lovelies were very sweet. And scary.
I'm not sure what the little monster was, but at least
Harry showed up with his wand to protect Dillypoo!

The goblin invasion lasted until about 9:00, when all of the porch lights on my block mysteriously went dark. I still had a few treats left, so I bagged them up and gave them to The Professor. He had strict instructions to take them to school and share with his students or toss in a campus trash bin. Just get it out of the house!

Today I am basking in a sugar coated haze re-fueled by three cups of coffee. I probably should've risen at 5:30 for a run. Instead, I let my inner child enjoy an extra hour of sleep after last night's indulgence.

Poor thing isn't used to such pampering! She better not get used to it again, either. Tomorrow, we're getting up early.

Boo!