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After discovering that OnDemand has a ton of workouts, I decided to start giving them a try. I’ve been toying with the idea of cancelling my (very expensive) gym membership in favor of a workout that interests me a little more. With the weather getting warmer, tennis, walks, and maybe some dance classes would be good supplements for cardio and strength training I could do for free in my living room.

I gave Carmen Electra’s Strip Aerobics a try, but after 20 minutes of her warm ups (“Now neck stretches! To the left, two, three, four…now the right! Two, three, four…”), I was bored and tired of her bad cue card reading.

Also, I knew that wasn’t going to be strong  enough cardio and since I was curious about why everyone has been raving about Jillian Michaels’ 30 Day Shred, I figured I’d give it a go.

Holy crap, I hate that woman.

I can’t walk today. I’m doing that old person shuffle that requires very little movement in the thigh area. Her combination lunge slash arm lift slash torture left me in a lot of pain, and I wasn’t expecting the workout to be so non-stop. She goes from cardio to strength to abs and back again with hardly time to catch your breath. I guess that’s why it works.

So…30 Day Shred, day one down. My sister is coming today to visit me for a week and while she continues to recover on my couch from gallbladder sugery, she will have quite a good show watching me sweat and curse at the television.


So, uh, do you guys like Twilight or something? My stats page was off the charts yesterday so I’m guessing you do.

Know what? SO DO I. I spent, oh, six hours lying in my hammock reading the first book yesterday and I came away with a face-full of freckles and the need  to read New Moon.

It’s not quite as warm today so reading will be mandated to the couch today. The book is behind me on the arm just itching to be picked up.


I just wanted to let you know that aside from the first ten or so of you who commented yesterday, I did not read what you had to say. Because as I was skimming them, I came across information from a later book that I did not know. I actually screamed out, “No!!!!” when I read it. The woman who left the comment later apologized in the comment section so don’t be mean to her. She thought it was common knowledge. Unfortunately, it wasn’t, and now I can’t take the chance that someone else let info slip.

I actually got a call from my friend D who is reading the series for the second time. She left a frantic voicemail warning me, “DO NOT READ YOUR COMMENTS!”

So I’m not. But probably only until this weekend because come on, at this rate I’ll be done by Sunday.

On a totally unrelated note, my sister, who has been recovering from gallbladder surgery, will be coming tomorrow to stay with me for awhile. I’m so excited! Sadly, that means I can in no way start New Moon before setting up the guest bedroom and starting a load of laundry or it will never get done.

So, I know I’m like the last person on the planet to read them, but last night I started the Twilight series.

When the craziness over them started, I actually could care less. I didn’t see myself reading the books, let alone seeing the movie.

But then everyone started reading them and raving about them. And then the movie came out and my friend asked me to go with her. I owed her. I made her see Mama Mia  with me. Fair is fair.

I liked the movie. Enough that I thought, well, I guess I could read the books.

My friend handed me the first two in the series with a warning: you will not be able to put them down. You will not sleep. You will not answer your phone. You will get nothing done around the house.

I laughed. Yeah right.

Well, I was WRONG.

I’m hooked, people. I made myself go to bed last night and stayed awake tossing and turning thinking about what will happen next with Bella and Edward.


Good thing my house is clean, because I plan on doing nothing today but indulging my inner t’ween.

*Warning: I’m only halfway through the first book so PLEASE DO NOT SPOIL ANYTHING. If you do, I will throw my best 14-year old temper tantrum, slam my door and let you know as loud as I can that you never understood me.

What day is it? Is it Monday? I have no idea. I feel like I had an endless weekend so now my days are messed up.

I spent the entire weekend in the sun. Yesterday our little state climbed past 90 degrees and I know some of you have already been basking in the pre-summer weather but not us. The one downside of living so close to the ocean is ocean air, which means while everyone else is getting 75 degree temps, we get 60s with wind until May.

So you can imagine how wonderful this weekend was. Except for getting bit by a gnat. Did you know gnats bite? I didn’t. Until my hand swelled up like a baseball. Stupid gnat.

In lieu of any fascinating stories, some of you asked to see some more professional wedding pictures. I haven’t posted a ton, mostly because it’s hard to choose favorites from almost 1,000 shots. But the only other story I’ve got is how my husband (who tans nicely) didn’t listen to his wife (who burns quickly) and didn’t wear sunscreen is first few hours working in the yard. We’ll keep the “I told you so’s” to a minimum this morning.

Another beach shot…I think we were looking at our venue. (PS- to the person who asked if I was brave enough to walk on frost — no frost, darling. Just sand. It was a pretty warm October day. Also, if you missed it in the last post, Michael is stopping me from stepping in dog poo on the beach. Love, I tell ya.)


The bridal party. By far some of my favorite people in the entire world.


I’ll post a few more during the week!

Six months ago today, Michael and I were married. I can’t believe how quickly time is flying by.

These six months have on occasion tested us. We discovered that no matter what life throws at us, together, we can take it on.

I learned that whenever life gets crappy and I’m just about to step in it…he saves me.


From six months, to the rest of our lives.

I really, truly love him.


I am totally weird about toothbrushes. About a year ago, my dentist recommended I switch over to electric, or suffer the consequences when I eventually scrubbed away my own gums. I believe the words “gum graft” were uttered by the hygienist, which left me wanting to shove the spit sucker all the way up her nose. (The dentist assured me that my gums were not that bad, but the old idea of brushing super hard is now being rejected. Apparently the hygienist likes to scare people. Spit sucker, lady. Don’t forget it.)

Before I used electric, I replaced my tooth brush every few months. The minute it started to fray it was gone. But since I’ve switched, I’m no faced with purchasing brush heads that cost a minimum of $11 a pop and seriously? How can they charge $11 for oral hygiene?

I still replace the brush head often, but I’ve started a new routine that involves cleaning every nook and cranny of the brush. The process includes hot water, rubbing alcohol, at least three Q-Tips and a toothpick. It takes about 10 minutes and leaves my brush sparkling, smelling fresh and most importantly, germ free.

The thought of bacteria on the brush is enough to give me nightmares.

Yes, you don’t have to tell me about all the bacteria around us daily or that even if I stored my toothbrush in another room it would still have fecal bacteria on it. I saw them test that on Myth Busters. I almost died.

But this weekly routine gives me piece of mind.

It also gives me something shiny to look at when I open the closet and am faced with my husband’s non-clean, totally gross, toothpaste covered, crusty electric toothbrush. I’ve actually dry heaved from looking at it.

He asked me to clean it once. I couldn’t do it. I know it makes no sense, he’s my husband. I kiss him. I sleep in the same bed as him.

But I couldn’t bring myself to clean his toothbrush bacteria.

So one thing I didn’t mention yesterday was that at that same bar, I also saw a Chris Meloni look alike. Chris Meloni — aka Elliot Stabler — from Law & Order: SVU fame.


I recently confessed my love of Chris to Michael. His reaction? “So THAT’S why you watch all those SVU marathons!”

No, that’s not the only reason. But I don’t mind some Meloni eye candy, that’s for sure.

I’ve never really had TV/movie crushes but I can’t help it, receding hairline and all, I think Chris Meloni is just plain sexy.

Do you agree? Would you like some more?


You’re welcome.

Who are you crushing on?

This weekend, two girlfriends and I went out. The place got crowded quickly and we were lucky to find three seat together with a perfect view of the large rectangular bar.

Before long, we noticed we were being checked out. On first look, the guy — while physically not appealing to any of us — seemed rather harmless. He appeared to be alone (which by the way, always kind of sketches me out. Guys that come to bars alone and stare at women. Eh.), had long, messy hair and was wearing a red skull cap.

We dubbed him “Red Beanie”.

As the night progressed, Red Beanie would change location, always staring us down. First he was to our left, then slowly, he worked his way clockwise around the bar. It was like a Where’s Waldo of creepy bar patrons — “He’s in the corner. Now he’s on our right!” — until a few hours later at nearly the end of the night, he arrived beside us.

“How are you ladies doing tonight?” he asked my friend V. I had turned to my left towards my other friend J in a silent laugh…one that meant, “wow, Red Beanie actually came over here,” when I heard V respond.

“We don’t want to talk to you,” she said deadpan.

“Why not?” he replied.

(Me and J — dying. Did she really just say that?)

“Because we don’t.”

Red Beanie turned his back to her and we looked at her with shock and awe. She had actually said the exact thing we’d all been thinking (and have thought many times in the past), but never said. We were chattering like birds about it until an empty beer glass was slammed down in front of my face.

We turned to see Red Beanie storming out of the bar.

Clearly, his feelings were hurt. He was shot down badly. But did his creepy behavior justify it? Was V just doing him a favor — a clear cut We’re Just Not That Into You?

None of us can decide. So we want you to.

Honest, or mean?

Thank you all for your feedback. Comments on this post are now closed.

11:33 p.m. Three minutes into Leno and 20 minutes into that I’m-almost-asleep-but-not-quite stage. Me, lying on the couch. Husband in the recliner and dog sleeping on hardwood floor.

Then, in one swift motion, dog is up — and vomitting.

On carpet.

Husband: Kodiak!

Wife: Not on the rug!

Dog: Runs towards his bed (also on hardwood) and proceeds to vomit. Again. Missing the hardwood floor by a mere quarter of an inch (of course) and leaving stomach contents all over the corner of his bed.

Wife: Sigh.

Husband: Kodiak, want to go outside?

Dog: Obviously better, happily scampers outside without a glance backwards.

Wife: Heads to kitchen to gather clean up essentials.

Husband: Gag, dry heave, EWWWWW, gag, ugh, gross.

Wife: Seriously? This is nothing. Wait until our first baby has that explosive diarrhea that goes up its back.

Husband: Ewwwwww, another dry heave, gag.

Wife: Rolls eyes. Tells husband to go take care of the dog bed, which really just requires taking off the cover and putting it in the wash. Proceed to clean up dog vomit (oddly aerated and when breathing through mouth [recommended] not so smelly.), and think longingly of that just-before-sleep stage that now lies in a grocery bag with air-whipped dog puke.

Husband: Is it clean?

Wife: Rolls eyes. Again.

Dog: Looks on top of fridge where treats are stored. Apparently feels better.

Husband: Gag, dry heave, ewww, gross, ugh.

Wife: Rolls eyes. Again. Again, again.

I’m a strong believer in the idea that the customer is always right. I’ve worked in retail so I know some can be frustrating, but in the end, unless the costumer is downright rude, the establishment should do all they can to accommodate them.

Take last night. We met up with our good friends S and D for dinner. S has a wheat allergy and is very well versed in what she can and cannot eat. She ordered a chicken curry dish and asked the waitress if the chef used any flour in the dish. Now yes, she didn’t say “I have a wheat allergy,” but this will be beside the point later.

The waitress checked with the chef, came back and told S no, there is no flour in the dish. Great!

When our food came, the side accompanying the chicken was a rice pilaf, which as you know, includes little pieces of pasta. Which are made with flour. S nicely asked the waitress if it was possible to switch out the pilaf for white rice instead, “because the pilaf is made with flour,” and things went down hill from there.

The waitress was clearly not the brightest bulb, and was not grasping the point that S could NOT eat things made with flour. S didn’t realize she hadn’t stated the obvious initially, (allergic), but what was the waitress thinking? That S didn’t LIKE flour? Who says they don’t like flour? You can’t taste flour.

Instead of the chef coming over to our table (it was a slow night and he was out of the kitchen now behind the bar), the waitress began a back and forth between him and our table for the next few minutes, offering no solution. We asked if she could have rice noodles (something that was listed in another menu dish) instead. The chef said it would take an hour to make them because they had to soak first. (Really? Is that what you would tell the guest who ordered them off the menu?) As the waitress went back and forth (he was only 10 feet away from us), it was clear that the chef was not going to budge on this situation and was basically giving S a big Screw You.

I don’t know. I think there was SOMETHING he could do. Offer to give her a non-wheat side? Discount her meal? Offer a free drink? Instead of standing behind the bar watching this all go down, he could have figured something out. For the customer. With the wheat allergy.

Who was right.

Ask me anything!

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Alltop, all the cool kids (and me)