Babysteps

I have already told you that I am "training" for a 5k in August.

In college I used to run every morning. I loved running outdoors because I could feel the trade winds off the ocean and I loved the fresh Hawaiian air. And afterwards - I know this sounds gross - but I loved tasting the saltwater off my lips.

Then I got married and had children and had to work outside the home. Running wasn't a priority. Eventually exercise wasn't even a priority. I struggled to find peace and happiness in what was supposed to be wedded bliss. I became sick on top of that and was on several medications (mostly hormones and a partial steroid) for years. It seemed that as each year passed, another five pounds was added. Sure, within a year a five-pound gain isn't horrific. But times that by oh - how many years? and that's like a gajillion pounds! Well, all right, maybe not THAT many, but still.

Finally with my divorce, I wanted to start feeling good again. I had already had surgery to remove the diseases so that was taken care of and no more meds. I had ventured a few trails on my own and I also found a place I like to walk outdoors. I had a great view of the valley and I usually walked at night, so the setting sun was always gorgeous. I walked that path several times a week, saving my trail for Saturdays.

Then I met Big-D, who is a trail-runner. I was impressed by how far and how high he'd run. Suddenly my little 2 or 3 miles seemed like nothing. I went with him a few times to his trail and loved it. The more I went the more I wanted to go. We would always start off at the same point, but he would take off running and I would of course, walk. I would time my walks so I knew when to turn around at the half way mark, and we'd finish together. I made it up to the radio towers and back for a total of 3.22 miles.

Then the "break-up" happened and I no longer went to the trail with Big-D except on occasion. I have done a lot of "walking" exercise over the past year, but the more I walked, the more I wanted to run. I can't explain it other than to say it was like an itch that needed scratching. As I would walk on the trail or the track or treadmill, it was like I had this energy brewing, waiting to explode. Like, I had this "thing" that was being held captive... I don't know what this "thing" is, other than perhaps "desire".

I decided to go back to the gym. I really wanted to run. BUT I did NOT want to run in front of all of those girls... You know the ones; the ones that aren't really even there to work out. They show up in their tight short-shorts and sports-bra tops and perfectly sculpted, perfectly tanned bods and they "pretend" to work out while they check out the guys who are of course also checking them out. NO. I did not want to run in front of them and feel all fat and frumpy and dumpy. Then I discovered the MOVIE ROOM! Yes. The gym has two rooms with big screens and the rooms are dark. I started going in there to use the treadmill. I figured most people were watching the movie and therefore, would NOT be watching me.

So I started running one night in the movie room. Or should I say I TRIED to run. I was no good at it. My knees started screaming, "Hey, Fatso! Remember us? We haven't hauled you around at this speed in over 16 years! And there's MORE of you now! What are you trying to do to us???" So, I walked. Then when I got home, I googled.

I found an article online called "From Couch Potato to 5K". It was a coaching guide for beginning runners to get them ready for a 5K in 8 weeks. It was perfect. After reading that along with other articles, I started to find a common denominator. They say for beginning runners, the first thing you should do is WALK! Brilliant.

So, I changed my work out a bit. I started riding the stationery bike first, to condition my knees. I did this before every "run". After 2 weeks of that, my knees felt great and I no longer needed the bike. Then on to the "training". I warm up with a 5 minute walk and then alternate running with walking. I only run until I feel winded or my chest hurts, and then I slow down to a walk. At first the running was as little as 90 seconds; sometimes more. But the whole idea is to gradually build up to a pace in which I will be able to run the entire 5K without killing myself. Again, brilliant.

A few weeks ago, I went with Big-D back to the "radio towers" trail. He was going to run "only 7 miles" that night. I figured out my half-way time and we were off - though not before him telling me to keep my eyes open as he had recently seen several rattlers and even 1 tarantula on that trail in the last few weeks. Great, I thought.

I put my music on and started off with my walk. The weather was perfect. And I noticed that I could walk much faster than before without getting winded. Then came the first little incline in the mountain. Ok, I can do this, I told myself. And I did. A few more turns, a few more inclines, and then one little down-hill. I decided to run down. Soon, I was at the radio towers. I looked at my watch. Holy Cow. It was my best time ever. I still had 10 minutes before I would have to turn around to go back. I kept going.

I felt exhilarated. I was now going to see what the other side of the mountain looked like. "Don't cry," I told myself. "It's just a freaking mountain." And yet to me, it was so much more.

I figured I wouldn't get very far in the ten minutes. But, I was wrong. To make things better, I even saw a baby deer. Soon I had hit my ten minutes and it was time to go back. I got back up to the radio towers and took some deep breaths and stretched my shins out a little. Then, I looked down the mountain towards the car. I suddenly felt on top of the world. I felt a surge of energy throughout my body and it consumed me. I decided I was going to run the rest of the way.

And I did. I ran the entire way down the mountain. When I could see the car, I slowed to a "cool down" walk. And when I got there, I realized I still had a few minutes to spare before Big-D would finish. I stretched a little and waited; secretly feeling proud. I wanted to cry and giggle all at the same time. We mapped my progress on google earth when we got home, and I had added a whole other mile! I walked/ran a complete 4.22 miles with a total elevation of 700 ft! I felt sore and tired, but I also felt great.

I don't know if I will be able to run the entire 5K come August. But I will say that my progress has me excited. For once, I feel like I am accomplishing things. This is something ONLY I can do for myself; no one can do it for me. I finally feel like I am on my way, whatever that means. And I'm not even really sure to "where"... I just feel like I am on my way.

Crap! Now I'm gonna go have a good cry... self-realization does this to me sometimes. ;)

The Letters

Finally - the post about the Letters. Sorry, this will be a long one - but there are pics - so try to hang in there...
_________________

A few weekends ago, on Saturday night I was over at Big-D's. He was cleaning out his spare room/office. I am not much help due to a pulled muscle in my back and don't know where things go anyway, but I stay to keep him "company". I am laying on the floor and soon take notice of the attic door in the ceiling.

"Have you ever been up in your attic?" I inquire.

To which he replies, "Once."

Prompting me to ask, "So, is it full of bats and spiders and stuff?"

To which he offers, "Nope. Just boxes."

"What do you store up there?" I ask again, trying to keep this invigorating conversation afloat.

"Not me. They belong to previous owners."

"What's in them?" I ask, thinking this could be pretty cool.

"Um...I don't know," he responds.

At this point I sit up, forgetting about the pain in my back and ask, "What???? There are boxes up there that were left from previous owners and you haven't looked through them yet?"

He chuckles, "No..."

"Get them down!" I urge perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

"Why do you care what's in them?" he chuckles again. "Probably just junk."

"This is like, If Walls Could Talk!" I say, referring to that TV show wherein they find old stuff hidden in the walls of old houses.

"Huh?" he replies.

"Umm... like those letters George and Jerry read after Susan's father's cabin burned down?"

"Oh, the Cheever Letters," Big-D announces. I knew he'd understand if I went all Seinfeld on him.

So, down came the boxes.
There were a few boxes filled with smaller empty boxes. But there was one with a cool gumball machine. It even still contained 1 green gumball. (Ya - we just left it in there.)


There was also an old remote control car that looked like it was from the 70's, a coin collection, a $2-bill from 1976, sewing kit, a notebook apparently from someone's college days, some senior class photos and then this:

There was one box filled with letters and cards.

There were enough cards to keep Hallmark in business for a very long time. So, I did what any other "normal" person would do... I read them!

As I started reading, the writers came to life for me. I could picture them in my mind. I could hear their voices, and came to understand the emotions behind the words as I read them out loud. Big-D continued cleaning, listening as I read.

The Letters were between Paula and Greg (I won't give last names due to privacy). Here is what I was able to piece together early on from the letters. (might not be 100% accurate - but again, going solely off the letters.)

Paula was a young school teacher, fresh out of college perhaps. In addition to that, she was the secretary at the local Assembly of God church. Greg's hometown is about 4 hours south of here. His father was a pastor, and he too was studying to be one. As he finished his Jr year of college in Missouri, Greg secured an internship of some sort with the Assembly of God church - here, locally. Thus, their paths had crossed and they had gotten to know each other very well that summer. It was obvious that Paula had a crush on Greg, though his letters were purely "friendly" (typical male) as he completed his internship. He was very diligent in focusing on his work.

At the end of the summer, Greg returned to Missouri to finish his evangelical studies. The two continued to write back and forth. She always signed her letters "Your friend, Paula" and he always signed his, "Your Pal, Greg." Most of the letters were about her students or his classes; the weather, the church, etc. They always made it known to each other that they were constantly praying for the other. Sweet, huh?

As graduation drew near, he made plans to move home. Though, they also made plans to spend a lot of time together that summer. It is unclear as to whether or not he lived far and commuted often or if he ended up moving to be near her. Nevertheless, they began dating and shared their feelings for one another and became engaged. [an "awww" would be appropriate here.]

As they drew nearer their wedding day, the passion for one another intensified in the letters, as I am sure it did in real life too. A lot of "only 4 more weeks until..." and "only 3 more weeks until..." type of letters. Ya - they kind of got a little steamy too - well, as much as an extremely well-behaved, uber-conservative Christian girl and boy can get, anyway.

Now - just A quick little pause to explain as I am laying on the floor reading the letters out loud, and arrive at the steamy parts, Big-D sort of did one of those double-takes and a "she wrote what?" Next thing I know - Big-D has stopped his cleaning and sorting, and comes over by me to relax and listen as I continue to read. Ya - they were *that* good. [It was like story-hour at the library...for adults...tee hee].

Anyway, they got married. But the notes don't stop there. I think, based on some of the cards, Greg worked a second job at the Pepsi plant. Though I am not sure if he did this after they were married, if it was a night shift or what. Anyway - he apparently did not have to get up as early as she did to get ready to go teach school. So, she left him little "love-notes" on post-its and put them on the bathroom mirror (I am assuming, based on the nature of some of the post-its). Then he'd get up and read them, and at the end of the day, she must have taken them down and saved them, or something. Anyway - there was quite the collection of post-it notes too.

I think we spent nearly three hours laying on the floor, reading all of those letters and notes. Seriously, they were the sweetest thing ever. I don't know why, but all of a sudden, I just felt excited; a sense of renewal for some reason. Finding these adorable letters was exciting for me. I sit up and say, "Can I keep these?"

Big-D laughs, "Keep them? You want to keep them?" I nod and throw a puppy-dog-eyes look as best I can. (which incidentally, looks like this...)

"What year were these written?" Big-D asks. I can practically SEE his "rational-logical-I.T.Guy Brain" processing my request. I check the letters and it looks like everything is between 1993-1995. Big-D then suggests, "Why don't we see if we can find the owners? They might like to have this stuff."

So, we go down to the computer and try to search for their names in the local white page listings. Nothing. Big-D suggests trying to find one or both of them through my Facebook account. Genius. I try her first. After all, I have her maiden and married names as well as the name of the High School she attended (it was in one of her journals). Nothing again.

Next I try his name. I find one match, but it is in another state. Could it be him? I don't want to give out too much information in case it isn't the right person, or in the event they are no longer married. So I send him a message via Facebook. "Are you the Greg [last name] that married Paula [last name] from [city]?"

The next night, just as I happen to be over at Big-D's again, my Blackberry alerts me to his reply. "yes..."

"Uh-oh," I say to Big-D.

"What?" he asks. I tell him what the reply says. "So?" Big-D asks.

"Well, they are obviously not married anymore," I explain.

"How do you get that from 'yes...'" he questions.

I go to explain that it is a feeling; a sense that I get from the reply. The reply could have included ANY of the following statements:

• Yes! I am!
• Did you two go to school together?
• Did we know you from the church?
• How did you know Paula?

But it didn't. A simple and rather cautious "yes..." was all. Big-D points out that the conspiracy theorist in him would probably be cautious too. I'm sure he thinks my rational thinking to be a little irrational at this point.

Nonetheless, I feel certain that Greg and Paula are no longer married. But without a way to contact her, I send the following reply, also wanting to be cautious. "We found some of your boxes in the attic at [address]. If you have family or friends still in the area, we'd be happy to drop them off somewhere."

I hesitated at telling him there were letters. I guess part of me thought that if they weren't married, and if it ended up in an ugly divorce or something, I didn't want him to have the letters. I was hopeful that he might give me a little more information in the next reply.

No such luck. The response I got that time was "Wow. Sure. Call [man] and [woman], [ph #]. They live in [city]." I was sure by now they were no longer married as the last name of the friends was different than his or Paula's.

I went home that night and could not get the discovery of the letters from the night before out of my mind. About 2 in the morning, I realized that since he replied to my FB message, I could now view his profile for 30 days. I reach over to the night stand and turn on the bedside lamp, and pull my laptop over to the bed. I sit up, shove my glasses on my face and make hand gestures at the computer to tell it to hurry up and move along. It's up and running, and I am furiously typing away on FB. I log in. I click on my Inbox, I click on Greg's profile. I scan it...it reads:

Greg is married to Dawn.

Whoa! Dawn is not Paula. What happened to Paula? My heart sank. I set the laptop on the chair next to my bed, and turn off the lamp. I lay down physically exhausted, yet my mind is racing. What happened? Did they get divorced? Did she die? or worse.... did He kill HER??? My head was spinning, my heart was racing. "Get a grip, Emma," I had to tell myself. "After all, we are talking about a man of God here. I am sure he did not murder his wife." Nevertheless, I couldn't sleep.

At 2:30 in the morning, it hits me that due to my job at the title company, I have access to public county real estate records. I sit up, turn on the bedside lamp, and once again reach for my laptop. I turn the lap top on, and again tell it to hurry, by waving my hands at it. I pull up the county recorder's website, and after finally remembering my username and password, I am in. I search for the property and find it. I search through the abstract/chain-of title.

Greg and Paula were the first owners of the Condo. They bought it while they were newlyweds and the condos had just been built. Fine. Great. I continue to scroll through the abstract. Almost two years later, I notice they do a refinance...but wait... uh-oh. The Refi is only in his name...wait, what's this? And Affidavit of Identity...(oh no, I know where this is going)...with Death Certificate. It was recorded to remove Paula's name from the title, meaning she has died.

I start to cry. I know this has happened years ago, but it just made me so sad. After all, I was just getting to "know" her. I decide I HAVE to know how she died. I write down the entry number to the death certificate and tuck the paper in my purse. My plan was to go and pull the county micro-fiche copy of the death cert so I could see exactly what happened.

In the meantime, I sent the following email to Big-D, which I knew he would also get on his Blackberry:

I know it is the middle of the night, but I couldn't sleep. Just pulled up your property on the county site. According to public records, she died. I feel like crying. I am going to see if I can pull a copy of the death certificate tomorrow. I need to know how she died.

So as soon as I walked into the office, I go to the backroom, and search through the micro-fiche files until I locate the correct entry number, book and page. I told myself that I was using my "powers" for good, and that it is actualy public record, but that I am just eliminating the step of driving down to the county courthouse myself. Anyway, I slip the microfiche under the glass and turn the machine on. I scroll down to the bottom of the death certificate in search of the cause of death. "Post-Partum Heart Failure." I started to tear up as I hit the print button to print myself a copy. I immediately call Big-D.

Big-D: Hello

Me: Did you get my email last night?

Big-D: Yes.

Me: I just pulled a copy of the death certificate, and she died after giving birth to her baby.

Big-D: What?... Oh... Wow.

Me: I just feel like crying.

Big-D: Aww. Well, it is sad. So, is the baby still alive?

Me: I don't know. But the parents names are on the death certificate, so I am going to see if I can find them.

Big-D: Ok.

Me: OK... gotta go. Bye.

Big-D: Bye.

I google the parents names and find a local white pages listing. I write down the information, and plan to call them as soon as I get off of work. Then I start thinking, what if Greg and the parents aren't in contact anymore? I mean, I already told Greg we had some boxes of his. But - I am sure the parents would enjoy some of her things too... like her sewing kit or her childhood journals, etc. I call Big-D back.

Big-D: Hello

Me: Hey, it's me. So, I just googled the parents, and they live here. So, I am thinking that we should still give Greg his stuff, and all the letters. I mean they were written to him after all. Plus I don't think Mom and Dad want to read the steamy "I can't wait till we [you-know-what]" letters.

Big-D: Probably not.

Me: But I'm thinking Mom and Dad should get the journals, the sewing kit - since it still had some cross-stitches in there that she had started, and her high school stuff. Whaddya think?

Big-D: Well... technically, it is my property, since it was left in the home. So I can do whatever I want with it. So, if you wanna call the parents, that's fine. Call the parents.

Me: K... thanks. Gotta go. Bye.

Big-D: Bye.

Now that that's settled, I get started on my real work - you know, the job I get paid to do. Nonetheless, I can't help but read the death certificate over and over. My friend, Teeners from the company next door comes over. I tell her the story and show her the Certificate of Death. She points out the date. I almost start to cry again. It was just 2 days shy of being the 11th year anniversary of Paula's death. Whoa. So, I begin to read each entry of the death certificate a little more closely now. I called Big-D.

Big-D: Hello.

Me: Hey, it's me. So, I was just reading the death certificate a little closer, and guess what.

Big-D: What?

Me: She goes into the hospital and has the baby. The physician checks on her at some point before she goes to sleep for the night. Then, sometime in the wee hours of the morning is when she died of heart failure. And they had only been married about a year and a half.

Big-D: Whoa.

Me: I know, huh? And guess what else?

Big-D: Huh?

Me: Tomorrow the baby would be like 11 years old, which means that Wednesday is the 11th anniversary of Paula's death. What a coincidence, huh?

Big-D: Wow...yeah...wow.

Me: K... I just wanted to tell you that. Gotta go. Bye.

Big-D: Bye.

I was glad that Big-D was shocked and empathized over the news. Granted, he wasn't going to cry like me, but his little "aww" and "whoa" and such was so cute, I could've kissed him. So, anyway, all of that happened within the first hour of me arriving at work. I just wanted the day to go by fast so I could call the parents. In the meantime, I google-map the address to see where exactly they lived. I couldn't believe it. They live one block from Big-D's. I just had to call him and tell him.

Big-D: Hello.

Me: Hey, guess what. I just googled the parents address, and they live like one block from you.

Big-D: Really? What's the address?

Me: [I ramble address off]

Big-D: Cool.

Me: Yeah, so before I call, do you want to take the stuff over to them or would you rather them

come and pick it up?

Big-D: Find out when they will be home and I can drop everything off to them. Unless you want me to call.

Me: Well ...you can call the parents if you want, but Greg has my name from Facebook, so that's the name he is giving to his friends. [plus, I really wanted to be the one to call :( ]

Big-D: Oh yeah, that's right. Well then you call and I can drop the stuff off.

Me: [awkward pause, and puppydog eyes which he cannot see over the phone]

Big-D: ...Or WE can drop the stuff off, cuz you'll probably wanna be there. And knowing you, you’ll probably get a story out of the parents…then they’ll probably start crying, so then you’ll probably start crying, and then you’ll leave with new best friends. And of course you’ll then have to blog about it all.

Me: [tail wagging] Pretty much. Okay, I'll call and let you know.

Big-D: Okay.

Me: K... gotta go. Bye.

Big-D: Bye.

So, after work, like at 5:01pm, I called the number Greg gave me. No answer. I leave a message. Then I call the parents house. The voice of an old woman answered.

Mother: Hello?

Me: Is this Jacquie?

Mother: Yes it is.

Me: Hi. My name is Emma, and the reason I am calling is because we found some stuff in the attic over at [address] that belonged to Paula, and I thought you might want them.

~long pause~

Mother: Oh, yes. Yes. I want them. Yes. Where should I come to get them?

Me: Well, we can drop them off to you. When will you be home?

Mother: I am home all day today and all day tomorrow.

Me: Ok. We could probably bring them by tonight.

Mother: That would be awesome. Oh, God bless you. This is Awesome.

So, later, I meet Big-D at his house, and we gather the things for the mother. I am feeling really nervous, and do my best not to cry. We walk over to the house and ring the bell. The mother appears in a robe, looking slightly disoriented. I explain that I spoke with her on the phone earlier and have Paula's things. She starts to raise her arms a little as if she wants to hug me, but then hesitates, as if she is not sure she should. So - me - being the obnoxious person that I am, go in for the hug. I do not let myself cry.

We give her the things, and she is just speechless, in a state of shock perhaps. I notice her bare feet, which seem almost purple, leading me to believe that she is ill. I know diabetes can cause poor circulation, but then again, maybe she is just old. Anyway, I can tell she is tired, so we leave her with the boxes as she bids us farewell with about a dozen God Bless You's and several This Is Awesome's. As Big-D and I leave, it is all we can do not to break into song, "Our God is an Awesome God".

Shortly after arriving back at Big-D's, my cell phone rings.

Me: Hello?

Mother: Did you just bring me boxes?

Me: Yes. That was me.

Mother: Oh, I just started looking through them... Oh, thank you so much. You are just really awesome to do this. Can I pay you or something?

Me: [chuckle] No. You don't need to pay us. Just finding you is payment enough.

Mother: Well, please, if there is ever anything I can do, let me know. Oh my, I just know Rachel will love to see this.

Me: Oh, is Rachel her sister?

Mother: Her daughter. She lives with her father and her step-mom in [other state]. She has three little sisters now. She will just love this.

Me: I am so glad.

Mother: Thank you so much.

I get off the phone and relay the conversation to Big-D. Then as I sit on the couch, I can't help think of Rachel. Tears fill my eyes again. Big-D asks, "You okay?"

I tell him, "I'm just thinking...about the baby. About Rachel." Then after a moment, I add, "I don't think that pictures would be enough. Pictures would not be enough for me. I mean, this girl did not grow up knowing her mother. All she has are pictures to go on. That wouldn't be enough for me." The flood gate opens, and the tears come down. I can't help it. I continue, "I mean I just think about all of my firsts with my own mom, and feel bad that Rachel doesn't get that. Her first word, her first day of kindergarten, her first period, her first date, her wedding day..."

"Slow down," Big-D says, as he pats my back. "She's only 11. Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

We both chuckle at that. I am physically tired and emotionally drained after the events of the evening, so I get up to leave to go home. Big-D can tell that I am still emotional, still feeling bad about Rachel's loss. "Just think," he says, "You made an old woman happy tonight." I smile. It was a good thought to end on.

I did end up getting ahold of the other people a few days later. Turns out, it was the sister and brother-in-law of Paula. She tells us where to take the rest of the stuff and we do. She also tells

us that Greg probably gave us her name instead of the mother's because apparently things weren't always smooth between Greg and Mom. And also, because the mother is starting to show signs of early-Alzheimers. We chat for a minute, and she thanks us for caring enough to get the boxes in the right hands.

Then, the adventure was over. Just like that. All within a week. There was love and tragedy like any other good love-story. And while at first I didn't feel like there was a happy ending, because I didn't think it was fair that Paula had to die, I realized that finding the boxes around the anniversary of Paula's death was perhaps no coincidence after all. Perhaps there were things in there that the family needed to see; needed to read. There was closure. And that is the resolution that every good love story needs. I feel blessed that I was able to play a small part in that happy ending.

Guess, it's time to write the next chapter in my own life... create my own adventure.

Kissing Burns Calories

It's true. Kissing Burns Calories. According to "studies" (y'know, tested, tried & proven studies), Hugging & Kissing burns about 68 calories.

I did the math. That means I would have to engage in kissing for nearly 4 hours to work off 1 regular size Snickers Bar. I laughed when I read that. I told Big-D that if he was really supportive of my goal, then...er...um... hehehe. No pain, no gain, right?

So, in my research of "activities that burn calories" here is just a sampling of what I have learned: [cph=calories per hour]


50 cph - Sleeping for 8 hours
68 cph - Hugging & Kissing
68 cph - Praying (while kneeling)
102 cph -Sitting while Talking on the phone
102 cph - Playing board/card games
102 cph - Typing (including Blogging, which means I am burning calories as we speak!)
136 cph - Casual/Slow Walking (less than 2 mph)
156 cph - Grocery Shopping
170 cph - Playing the piano (or organ)
238 cph - Vacuuming
258 cph - Walking at "brisk" pace (3.5 mph)
306 cph - Weeding
408 cph - Swimming (leisurely, for "fun")
544 cph - Synchronized Swimming (good reason to join the "team", right?)
748 cph - Fast, vigorous Swimming
918 cph - Running (8 mph)

To check out more activities Click Here - Activity Counter

So, I've reviewed all of the listed activities and decided that I definitely need to add more Kissing, more Talking on the phone, more blogging, and more piano practice. All of these things can only add to my work-out experience, right?

Oh - and I suppose it is true that running is the fastest way to burn calories. Guess I will keep working on that one too!

Pregnancy, Secrets and Orange Smarties

I know I have shared some strange dreams in the past. This one nears the top especially because the dream felt so realistic in spite of it's unrealistic nature.
________

I am traveling by train. It is night time and dark outside. I get off the train and it's raining. I am wearing sort of this gypsy skirt. I walk through the streets of an outdoor mall that never seems to end. Finally, I make it to a campus. I am looking for something, though I am not sure what. I enter a dorm. The halls are dimly lit. I walk up a few flight of stairs. An old woman greets me and says I look tired and hungry. I nod. Am I some sort of vagabond, I wonder. She seats me at a table and fixes me a plate of leftovers. She then brings out a few history books about the college. I thumb through the books, knowing that a clue to whatever I am looking for must be in there somewhere. Her adult son joins us. There isn't any conversation. But I eat and eat and can't seem to get enough. The old woman brings more food to the table and remarks that I must be starving. I think about that, and rub my tummy.

I think about the unborn baby I am carrying. Has anyone noticed? I don't appear to be showing and yet I am about five months along. I leave the dorm and travel back through the mall. I am tired. I think about the fact that I only have $25 in my pocket and I will need to provide clothes for my unborn child. I worry about what people will think when they find out I am pregnant. I wonder if they will believe me when I tell them that I have not had sex with anyone. How will I explain that I am pregnant when I don't even know myself how it happened?

Soon, I happen upon an old historic apartment building. I look up. The light is on in the apartment upstairs. I enter and make my way up the stairs. I knock at the door and Big-D answers. We sit on the couch and I pour my heart out, telling him all of the stress I have been going through. I tell him about the baby. He said he knows and has known all along. I stress about it. He tells me to relax and that everything will work out. I offer him some Smarties. He says he has never heard of them and asks what they are. I tell him they are candy. I pull a roll out of my pocket. I eat a few, but feed him the ones I do not like. He makes a sour-face. I laugh and tell him that they are the orange ones. He then gets a call from his friend asking if he sold his place yet. Big-D says that yes he sold his place, but doesn't let on that he sold it to me. It seemed as if it was all supposed to be kept confidential, which for some reason I am grateful. After talking to him I feel less stressed. I feel like I can breathe again.

It is day time now and the rain has let up. I talk to my mom and she mentions that she has a whole bunch of gift cards for Kohl's that people have given her. She tells me that there is no way she is ever going to use them all. She asks if I want them. I get excited, since Kohl's is my favorite store. I tell her I would love them as long as she goes shopping with me. I tell her I need to buy baby clothes for my unborn baby, which is most likely a girl. She says that she already knows; that a mother always knows. I was relieved. She brought my sister from back home out to come shopping with us too. No one seemed mad or upset or disappointed that I was pregnant. And even weirder, no one seemed to challenge me on my statement that I had not had sex since prior to my divorce, well over a year earlier. They just all seemed accepting of me and my situation.

The dream comes to an end as we start discussing possible baby names... McKinnley, Kade, Kale, Sawyer, Collier, ... and that's all I remember.

He's Just Not that Into You

Ok, even though many of you think I am a HUGE blabbermouth, and tell EVERYTHING on my blog, it isn't so. Well, not completely. Here is what I will tell you since many of you have asked about the whole "Big-D" situation. There really isn't a "situation". We just simply broke up. Here are some of your questions...and my responses.

What? You broke up?? When??? Yes. We broke up. Sort-a, kind-a around Christmas, and then for sure just after New Years.

Was there an argument? No.

Was he being a jerk? No. Never.

Was there no more attraction? That wasn't the issue.

He doesn't know what he's missing. Probably. He has a lot more quiet evenings I'm sure, lol. :)

Do you want me to go bust his knee-caps? - I know a guy... No. It's fine, really. We are still friends. We talk. We have no ill-feelings towards each other.

Was it the whole "It's not you, it's me" routine? I dunno. Maybe. Possibly. Who's counting?

Was there heart-ache? What do you think?

That being said, I'm sure you've heard of that new movie that is in Theaters now. "He's Just Not That Into You." (click here for official site)

When I first heard the title to this movie, I thought, I can't go see it. It's too much in-your-face, face-the-truth, make-me-cry type of stuff. But, then I saw the all-star cast (full of eye-candy) and was like... well, maybe I could squeeze a viewing in.

I read the synopsis and fell in love with the movie even before watching it. "He's Just Not That Into You tells the stories of a group interconnected, Baltimore-based twenty- and thirtysomethings as they navigate their various relationships from the shallow end of the dating pool through the deep, murky waters of married life, trying to read the signs of the opposite sex...and hoping to be the exceptions to the "no exceptions" rule."

I definitely have to see it now. I am sure I will laugh, and I am definite there will be crying. I hope any "couples" in the audience are steadfast in their relationships...

...hate to see a theater full of guys squirming while their dates are eyeing them down, wondering... Are you just not that into me?

Pictoral Adventures with Big-D & Me

As many of you know, it all started with a little "crack-addiction". The girl in front of us at the REAL soccer game kept jumping up & down (thus the blur) and showing off her crack. I couldn't resist, and had to get a pic. I think Big-D was a little shocked.

Once you start sneaking pics with your camera phone, it's sort of fun. I love the rush i get in trying not to get caught too. Like the "mullet with the mostest" shot.

Had to have Big-D pretend to pose for that one.
Next, we came across this guy standing outside of a club in a TOGA. So awesome.

So "Meatloaf" of him! I didn't however like the rolls of flab hanging out the sides.
Around Halloween we went out to dinner. The guy at the table next to us has a Golf-Ball smashed in the side of his head. He just acted like all was "normal". Again had to have Big-D pretend the pic was of him. His corneas are still recovering from the blinding light from my flash. But it had to be done, because it was a dimly lit place.

As the holidays approached, Retailers rushed to get their latest and greatest out on the shelves. We came across this display of baby dolls, at none other than Wal-Mart, all of them still with plastic bags over their heads. What message, pray tell, is this sending to small children? And of course the bag is imprinted with the warning: "This Bag Is Not A Toy".

Big-D was excited when he ran across this one on his own in his work parking lot. (See, he's learned a few things from me.) The car next to him had this on their seat. A Crown Burger Napkin (best burgers, by the way), a Soda, and a Book entitled, "Good Calories, Bad Calories". Now there's ambition!
These last two were actually "discovered" while making a late night Wal-Mart run with Desperate Housewife and PartyGirl.

I mean, does Cheese Really Make Everything Taste Better?

And we did the typical Drive-Thru-after-Wal-Mart thing again. After paying at window 1 and then meeting up with WorkerBoy again at window 2 to retrieve our food, I blurt out, "Hey! Throw in some of those pumpkin pies if you have any extra!" You know, in case they had been sitting there and were about to be tossed anyway. I know, I have no shame. Anyway, he was nice and threw 2 in. But that wasn't the big deal. No. The big deal was the package the pie came in.

It says, "Caution. I'm Hot."

Should I laugh at their aggressive and clever marketing or be disgusted at their inappropriateness and going with the flow that "sex sells"?

I mean sure, I could see myself coming up with a slogan like this,

but McDonalds? The same people that do Happy Meals for our Precious Children???
What did we ever do without camera phones?

Little Girls, Apple Pancakes, New Years & Xanax

"Last year we did it! Come on, please???" were the pleas from 3 whiny little voices at my house. "Fine," I succumb. "But you must clean your rooms and get your chores done." Next came the Happy Dances, the hoots and hollers. It was official.

New Year's Eve Party: My house.

After Christmas, I started to think myself, "Did I really do it? Did I really say yes?" Then one of the kids would ask a question regarding the menu or the activities for the event and I would grunt and think, "Yes. I really did say yes. This is really going to happen."

Then a few things changed...

FunnyMan starts to say something like, "The Friend-Girl Called. She's planning a New Years-"
"Great!" I cut him off. "Go to HER party!"

About 6 less kids to worry about.

LittleDuckling becomes sad, because his 2 best buds cannot come. 1 had other family plans, and the other - well - let's just say that sassin' your mama before New Year's Eve does not get you to a New Year's Eve Party now, does it? And since he is on winter break from school and doesn't have their phone numbers, LittleDuckling has "No One Else" to invite. Awwwww. Poor thing. My heart breaks for you, truly it does.

Well, ok, maybe not. I told him it did, but on the inside I was thinking, "Awesome. 2 less kids to entertain!"

That just left PrettyPrettyPrincess. All of her guests responded in the affirmative. So that meant 4 little gals to party the night away.

I cunningly ask Big-D if he had plans for New Year's Eve and if not, would he like to come hang out with me? "Um, gee, let's see. Let me check my schedule," he replies jokingly. "New Year's Eve... Got nothing! Looks like I'm free!" "Great," I respond. "Oh and by the way my daughter is having a bunch of her little friends over."





The girls played air hockey and decorated gingerbread cookies and ate snacks and watched movies. We actually moved the air hockey table into her room before the guests got there so the "mess" could be contained all in one room. Except for the cookies. I did make them decorate those in the kitchen.

LittleDuckling, Big-D & I spent the evening playing a few rounds of Scattergories, Sorry!, and watched a T-Vo'd episode of Corner Gas before counting down to 2009!

I let the girls stand on the porch at midnight in their jammies and blow their loud party horns and share their excitement with all the neighbors too!

I had them in bed by 12:30 am. I, myself, took a Xanax!

Then I got up this morning and made apple pancakes and hot cocoa complete with marshmallows and whipping cream! (I'll post a recipe for this soon)

Interview with Big-D

Me: First off, everyone wants to know if you liked the quilt.
Big-D: Yes.

Me: What was the best thing you ate during Christmas?
BD: The Jumbo Shrimp cocktail at work.

Me: Best thing about Christmas this year?
BD: I dunno. I didn't really get into it this year.

Me: The worst thing about Christmas this year?
BD: Going to the church Christmas party alone. Never doing that again. It was just awful. I felt like I was the new kid at school with no friends. And then everyone feels sorry for you cuz they recognize that you are by yourself. So then they feel obligated to make conversation.

** side note: Big-D's church party was the same night as mine, and he was asked to help with his set-up/clean-up, which is why we each did our own thing that night.

Me: Thing you like best about winter?
BD: Snowstorms.

Me: Thing you hate most about winter?
BD: Cold Weather.

Me: Any resolutions for the new year?
BD: Nope.

BD: Kind of a boring interview, huh?
Me: Yep!

Me: What's got you stressed most right now?
BD: This house (as he is painting and me, sitting here blogging)

Me: One thing you look forward to about selling this place?
BD: Not being in the HOA (currently secretary). Never again.

Me: one thing you are looking forward to in a new home?
BD: No HOA.

Me: Do you like all of your paint choices?
BD: So far. [pauses and looks at the walls] Someone's gonna walk in here and say, "this guy knows what he's doing".

Me: And who picked out the paint colors?
BD: You. (I smile)

Me: Any hopes or dreams for the new year?
BD: Uhhh...Run the whole year injury free, starting with my Dr. apt for my physical a week from Monday.

Me: Best thing about this interview?
BD: That it's over?

Me: Worst thing?
BD: That it started.

Ha ha . very funny.

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Family Par-Tay

So about a week and a half ago was our family Christmas Party. One of my sisters lives about 60 miles away, so she and her family drove up and my parents flew in from NV.

Friday night was the night my mom met Big-D. We all went to eat at this great Thai restaurant. The food was good and I think he quickly realized that my parents are just regular down-to-earth, sometimes a little eccentric type people. We laughed and had a good time. He even blushed a little when not only I, nor my sister, but when my mom told an ever-so-slightly dirty joke. Nothing too racy. Mostly funny and shocking coming from a parental unit.

Saturday everyone gathered at my house for our annual pig-out feast. This year we did short ribs and grilled chicken and of course lots of side dishes and even more desserts. We were stuffed! The kids enjoyed opening their gifts.

Then Sunday, after spending the day with my sister, my parents drove up to my house for a game night with the kids and Big-D. More laughter, more fun, and just a wee bit more slightly-naughty humor. (Thankfully the only child that picked up on it was the 14 year old).

Highlights for the weekend...

Watching the three of us (mom, sis & me) guffaw and "wheeze" as I tell a story to my dad, about Big-D and a turtle in its shell (you had to be there).

My daughter punting, and picking out one of her beloved beanie babies and wrapping it up to give to Big-D, cuz she wanted to make sure he had enough presents to open.

Getting Big-D to play "BOB" with my family (another thing that's just an inside family thing).

Here's a few pics my mom was able to snag. Enjoy!

PrettyPrettyPrincess

LittleDuckling

FunnyMan (in the middle)

Me & Big-D

Would You Rather...

Ever played that game "Would You Rather...?" Y'know the one; You are given two HORRIBLE choices, and you HAVE to choose one - no exceptions. The other night I roped Big-D into playing this. Perhaps it was the Night-Time, Make-You-Drowsy Cold Medicine that made it particularly enjoyable. Nonetheless I laughed so hard I almost peed my pants.

I figured why not permit my "bloggy fans" the same degree of entertainment? So, for your bloggy pleasure this is today's segment of Festive Fridays with Fun on the Blog - here we go! Just leave your answers in the comment forum.

WOULD YOU RATHER...

1) Poop your pants in public OR Have someone throw up on you?

2) Make out with Ted Kennedy OR Verne Troyer?
(or for the opposite sex, you can pick between Roseanne Barr or Rosie O'Donnell)

3) Eat a bowful of worms OR Lamb's Fry (click here to see what Lamb's Fry is)?

4) Be stranded on a deserted island Alone OR with someone you hate?

5) Lose your Arms OR your Legs?

6) Have 1 billion dollars OR find your true love?

7) Never have a hot shower OR never be able to sleep?

8) Hit your thumb with a hammer or shoot your big toe with a nail gun?

9) Go a whole day without brushing your teeth or without wearing deodorant?

10) Play this game or get back to work?

Happy Birthday Big-D!

In addition to Thanksgiving, it is Big-D's Birthday!

Here's a pic of him doing one of the things he loves!


tee hee. Him in 8th grade. Love the 80's "wave" hair style!

(he wouldn't let me have a baby pic of him to post. ah well, baby steps, I suppose.)

Happy 35th! I'm right behind you buddy!!!

The "No-Post" Post

So I had this one post already to go. I was excited about it. I am a chatter-box by nature and just like to blab and blab and blab sometimes. Then, I reconsidered. Perhaps I shall like to keep this bit of information to myself. Y'know...not share with anyone.

Hmmm....now there's a concept I don't usually abide by...until now.

So, just know that in spite of some very stressful things in my life - I've had some fun along the way. And no - I will not be posting about it.

But the problem was I didn't have a back-up plan. There were no other posts in the pipeline, as there usually are.

"I don't have a back-up post ready," I tell Big-D.

"Oh No," he replies, a bit too sarcastically. "What are your 'fans' gonna do???" (by the way - he is sooo cute when he teases)

So here it is... the "No-Post" post, to explain why there is no Post today.

Have a happy Wednesday. I know I will. Going to a chili cook-off fund-raiser for lunch today. Raising money for the Safe Harbor Domestic Violence Shelter. Good Food. Good Cause. Doesn't get much better than that.

Howling Halloween Hound

So - by now you've probably heard about 4-legged creature. She gets into things from time to time. She doesn't chew on our shoes or anything like that. But she loves food.

Well - the other night I was making some "Sticky Halloween Crunch" for my recipe group. Afterwards, she just kept whining. I was trying to have a meaningful phone conversation with Big-D, okay - well a conversation anyway - and she just wouldn't simmer down. She continued to stand beneath the counter and HOWL - I mean really HOWL because she could smell the Sticky Halloween Crunch cooling on the parchment paper above.

When my kids do this (well, whine - not howl) I let them lick the spoon. So, I take my wooden spoon from the sticky pot in the sink and hand it to the dog, figuring she can suck on that for a while and let me finish my call in peace. Needless to say the "sticky" in "Sticky Halloween Crunch" is a sugary syrup. Well, apparently she had no patience to "suck on that" for a while. In her attempt to BITE OFF THE SYRUP - SHE CHEWED MY WOODEN SPOON TO TINY PIECES!!! There were shards of wood all over my hallway!!! I should have guessed that this Devil of a Dog is one naughty little Ghoul and will do anything for food.

So, about 30 minutes later, she was all hyped up on sugary syrup (I know - I'm a BAD doggy-mom) and PrettyPrettyPrincess was trying to get her to calm down. I took these pictures of her - and they are not touched up AT ALL!!! Do you see what I see??? Perhaps eating "Sticky Halloween Crunch" really brought out the little devil in her!

Spooky!

Thinking it was about 9:30 at night, and the room was fairly dark...perhaps it was a reflection from the flash and the lamp in the room. So, I made my daughter sit in the exact same spot to test this theory!

Nope! She's still an Angel!

Caution: Do NOT feed "Sticky Halloween Crunch" to howling hounds before Halloween!

Mmm-Hmm, You Know Dat's Fo' Real

REAL Major League Soccer, that is. So, Thursday night was Salt Lake Real's first game in their Brand New Stadium! Yea! Big-D scored some tickets for the game, which were pretty decent seats. It was my first LIVE major league soccer game, so I was pretty excited. Thought I'd share some of the evening's highlights with all of you in the Blogosphere, so here goes.

Before hand we were invited to a dinner by one of Big-D's corporate vendors. We had London Broil and some sort of fancy-schmancy Chicken & Penne pasta, along with some other sides and good dessert. The only bad part of the dinner was the sales rep was a "close" talker. I wanted to scream, You're in my personal space! Big-D told me afterwards that he really didn't even know what the guy was saying, cuz all he could see were the guys big lips in his face. But he was a nice guy. At the end of the dinner, they held a drawing and we won this Real hat. PrettyPrettyPrincess has already claimed it for herself.
Next we get to the game, and the stadium was really nice. It sure beats Rice-Eccles stadium where they had been playing all season. Oh and of course we had to get a Churro! mmmmm....
The game was good. The players got really intense, too. Not quite as bad as hockey, but more "in-your-face" than football, though the physical contact wasn't as much as either of those. It's just sort of funny to watch 'em get all riled up. Oh - there was an incident in which one of the players got kicked in the head - blood was drawn; oozing, dripping sort of blood. That got the fans all up in arms too! Unfortunately, I forgot my camera, so these pics from my phone will have to do. But no bleeding scalp pics - sorry!

Then, during half time, some guy proposed to his girl out on the field. She never did give a resounding "yes". Though, I suppose when she jumped up and down and practically knocked him over jumping into his arms, we all figured it was a yes.

The guy in white is down on one knee proposing. The girl facing his direction is in shock. She thought they were going to be part of the half-time contest. The two plebs behind them who are blocking the way of my camera are the two announcers coordinating the half-time contests. It was still sweet, and all of the spectators gave the appropriate "awwww".

Ok - so the girl in front of me was a Crack-Addict. How do I know??? Well, let's just say that EVERY TIME she stood up it was waaaaay obvious. After the second time of witnessing her shenanigans, I lean over to Big-D and tell him I'm gonna snap a pic for my blog. We're both laughing so hard, that when she did stand up with the crowd to jump up and down, it was hard to get a clear shot. But this is what I ended up with. Presenting Crack-Addict.

After snapping the pic, Big-D & I observe that it's too blurry. "What a BUM-mer!" Big-D states. "Maybe you'll get another CRACK at it soon!" But no such luck. The wind picked up a bit, and like myself, Crack-Addict wrapped herself up in a blankie.
Here we are in the stadium trying to stay warm! (notice our pink noses) Isn't Big-D so cute???

So here's to a good dinner followed by action, blood, drama, "crack" and staying warm at the game! A very eventful night, indeed!