My Name is Cat

I Bid Farewell

noreply@blogger.com (Cat) — Fri, 01 Jul 2011 18:39:00 +0000

It's been a little over a month since I last posted which I guess is telling. I'm finished with this blog. I've been sputtering for the last year, and now without my trusty sidekick Pinkie Leigh I have no desire to carry on. It's time for new adventures with my new partner in crime, Queenie.

I'm Selling My Life on Ebay

noreply@blogger.com (Cat) — Sun, 22 May 2011 12:49:00 +0000

I have a friend who really wanted an iPad, so while she was recovering from surgery she started selling stuff on Ebay. She sold everything from high-end items like her Kindle to things I can't believe people paid money for, like half bottles of perfume. Her husband said she was wasting her time to which she replied she was stuck on the couch for six weeks so all she had was time. Not only did she make enough to buy herself an iPad, she bought Doubting Thomas one too.

So here I am doing the same. My goal is a little higher - because I like to make sure nothing I try to do is easy. I want a new laptop.

My plan was to get another Toshiba like Pinkie Leigh* but a younger and more beautiful - like a second wife. I meet a possible love match online, but I wasn't going to make that kind of commitment from just a picture and a carefully worded profile. No, I needed to meet my future wife/computer in person, so a lunch date was arranged.

Actually the lunch date was with Yankee, but afterward he took me to Best Buy. We checked out the laptops all dressed up in their finest hardware and software, flashing temptingly sexy low-cut prices, but my potential computer mate had evidently found someone better because she was no where to be seen. We could have asked one of the Best Buy matchmakers, but they were all talking to each other instead of paying attention to any potential clients. So we left and went to the new Peach Mac store.

Oh what a difference. If Best Buy was a crowded singles bar with a bunch of slutty computers trying to get our attention with revealing sales, then Peach Mac was a sophisticated martini bar with a few stunningly beautiful models who had people begging to get near them with no effort on their part. OK, there may have been some very subtle effort, but let me assure you none of it had anything at all to do with low prices.

Within seconds of walking in the door a Mac Matchmaker introduced me to a lovely 15 inch Macbook Pro, and it was love at first sight. I knew she was the one. It was very similar to falling in love with Yankee on our first date. Since that has worked out really well for the past 23 years, I have no doubts about making a commitment to this leggy computer.

The only problem is I have to sell twice as much stuff on Ebay. That is why you haven't seen much of me lately. It takes a lot of used shoes to equal one Macbook.

Would you like to know what the most common comment is when I tell someone this is my goal? You might think it would be something like How much have you sold? or What kind of computer are you getting? But actually the thing most people ask is What's going to happen to Pinkie Leigh? Way to make a girl feel guilty!

Important Driving Information

noreply@blogger.com (Cat) — Mon, 09 May 2011 12:27:00 +0000

We spent four hours of a beautiful Mother's Day driving to and fro the University of Georgia to see Mr. Collegy and bring home the majority of his stuff to lighten Tuesday's load when he comes home for the summer. Yankee took the opportunity to give Hippie a few highway driving pointers for when she gets her driver's license in August.

When you're traveling at a high rate of speed, don't swerve to miss something because you might cause the car to roll. If a deer runs out in front of you, you just have to hit it.*

Don't drive in another car's blind spot.

Avoid vehicles pulling a trailer, particularly a U-Haul, because they might not know how to control it.

Stay far away from log trucks.

And for god's sake, if you're going to drive in Alabama, don't.

*As you can imagine this bit of information went over really well with our vegetarian daughter.

Weigh Down Wednesday and News Junkie Fail

noreply@blogger.com (Cat) — Thu, 05 May 2011 02:10:00 +0000

Clearly, someone else took this picture.

Sorry I'm a day late but you know there has been some big, big news this week! I lost half a pound. Oh, and Osama Bin Laden was killed.

You know how some husbands have hobbies like playing golf or collecting stamps? Well, my husband's hobby is collecting the news. He watches, reads or Googles the news almost constantly, so it's sort of embarrassing that someone else had to alert about two of the biggest news events of the past decade. Yankee's brother called us on 9-11. Mr. Collegy called us Sunday night to tell us Public Enemy Number 1 was dead.

We turned on CNN/ABC/CBS news to watch the events unfold just like most people. Some people decided they needed to get closer to the action, so they made their way to the White House. The large crowd stood around shouting USA! USA! and taking pictures. That lead to this conversation:

Cat: What are they taking pictures of?

Yankee: The White House?

Cat: Why? It's the same as it always.

Cat & Yankee (Simultaneously): Maybe they're waiting for a balcony kiss.

Weigh Down Wednesday and If Our House Were Bugged

noreply@blogger.com (Cat) — Wed, 27 Apr 2011 20:57:00 +0000

I spent last week on the Norwegian ~~Floating Feast~~ Dawn,* but don't worry, I was very careful to keep up my diet. I started the morning with a full breakfast that always included chocolate croissants and extra crispy bacon. Since we didn't get up until ten or eleven, breakfast was closely followed by lunch and an all you can eat buffet. I sometimes enjoyed a nice afternoon Pina Colada. With my delicious dinners, I'd have a cocktail or two and of course, dessert.

Yankee went to the gym every afternoon in order to make up for the gluttony, so I used that quiet time to take a nap. The only exercise I did for five days was walk up and down the stairs instead of taking the elevator. What do I have to show for all this? One pound lost that's what!

Cat: I lost a pound on the cruise.

Yankee: It was all that extra sex.

Cat: Did you lose any weight?

Yankee: No.

Cat: So I need to have lots of extra sex, but you shouldn't have any? That is very interesting.

Yankee: I need to work on my theory and get back to you.

Thought you might want to see the sparkly shoes in action.

*I'm sure you're wondering how I could have possibly been on a Caribbean cruise and yet remain so white. Just a talent I have.

Weigh Down Wednesday and Picnicking with Skinny Eyes

noreply@blogger.com (Cat) — Wed, 20 Apr 2011 12:25:00 +0000

It's Weigh Down Wednesday, and you might be saying to yourself, " Is Cat is wearing the exact same outfit as she was wearing last week? And is she standing in the same awkward position as last week?" Then you might scroll down to last weeks picture and agree with yourself that yes, everything looks exactly the same except for one big difference - she looks quite a bit slimmer. The diet must be going very well. Really, I haven't any idea if I lost or gained, but I'd put my money on a gain, because I am currently on a floating smorgasbord, otherwise known as a cruise, with Yankee.

Then why the big difference between last week and this? Own word. Picnik. Picnik is a web-based photo editor (and it is spelled with a K). You can use most of its basic features for free, but if you join, you can use the premium features: one of which is Insta-Thin - the miracle feature you can use to make yourself look like you drop 10 pounds in a week. What I'm hoping they work on next is Insta-Thin glasses. I can hand a pair to everyone I meet. No diet necessary!

Water for Elephants: A Book Review

noreply@blogger.com (Cat) — Fri, 15 Apr 2011 03:05:00 +0000

I realize I'm very late to jump onto this circus train, but I finally read Water for Elephants. I've been looking at it on the Our Employees Recommend display at Barnes & Noble for a few years now, but just like going to the doctor for an achy hip, I didn't want to rush into anything. I'd like to point out that I married a man after dating him for exactly four months, but only spending 27 days of that four months actually with him. I guess I don't think I'll get lucky that way twice.

One reason I avoided the book was I was a little afraid it might be too sad* - it is about circus animals during the Depression. How cheerful could that be? But when it finally went down in price on Kindle, I bought it. Knowing that I got a bargain can bring a little joy to even the saddest story. The thing is, it isn't depressing at all. The author, Sara Gruen, an obvious animal lover, was able to tell a story that does include a cruel animal trainer in such a way that by the end the reader is actually happy.

The story is about a young man, Jacob, who is about to finish vet school when his parents die in an accident. He is left with nothing and literally runs away with the circus. The interesting twist is that it is told by the same man seventy-one years later when he is living in a nursing home. Gruen develops both Jacobs - the naive twenty-two year old and the grouchy 93 year old - into very likable heroes. I cheered for him when he tried to make the circus life better for the animals and when he tried to get some non-gelatin based food at the nursing home.

When a circus sets up in the parking lot next to the nursing home, all of the memories of his first days with the Benzini Brothers Circus flood back to him. The young Jacob jumps a train which turns out to be the Benzini Brothers circus train and gets hired because he is an Ivy League vet which is better than the plan old regular vet Ringling Brothers has. No matter that he didn't graduate. The circus has a long tradition of making extraordinary claims. He quickly falls for the beautiful liberty horse woman, Marlena who is most unfortunately already married to the head animal trainer, August.

The story follows the trails of Jacob as he tries to make a better life for the animals, including the newly acquired elephant, Rosie, while trying to avoid the wrath of August. The intertwining story of Jacob as an old man who excitedly awaits a visit to the circus that sets up in the parking lot next to the nursing home is almost as interesting as the story of him in the circus.

I love this woman's style of writing. It is clean and clear. She describes the scenery and events, in a way that I feel like I'm there witnessing them myself, but she never flowery or overwrought. I read the interview of her at the end of the story and found out she was a technical writer for many years. Evidently, they have to avoid all extraneous words in technical writing because it is so expensive to translate them. I believe she brought this same judicial use of words with her into fiction writing.

This story has it all: action, adventure and romance. Okay maybe not everything - somehow it survives without the seemingly required vampires and zombies in most popular books. It has been made into a movie staring Robert Pattinson in which he will be playing a normal person without any magical powers. Unless, of course, some movie executive got his way:

When Harry Met Sally 2 with Billy Crystal & Helen Mirren from Billy Crystal

*Sara Gruen has a new book out called Ape House which I recently passed on buying because I thought it might be depressing.

Weigh Down Wednesday and the Shot Felt Around the World

noreply@blogger.com (Cat) — Wed, 13 Apr 2011 21:57:00 +0000

I am back to taking my own pictures

Hippie and I were watching The Biggest Loser last night which is not nearly as fun without Mr. Collegy walking by to tell us that the real biggest losers are the ones who watch The Biggest Loser. Most of the time I really miss him, but there are other times when it's kind of nice not having him around. Anyway, on TBL, one of the contestants gained four pounds. It is very rare for people to gain weight on that show, and usually when they do, it is done as a strategic game play. But not this time; this time it was just a bad week. The kind all dieters have, but most do not have a national television audience witnessing.

I think she was probably mortified. I know I would be, because I'm close to mortification in having to report to what optimistically could be a dozen readers, that I have only lost one of those royal pounds I packed on last week. That means I'm still in the hole for a pound, and it's not looking good for next week because it's likely that my Monday workout might be the only one I get in.

Yesterday, I did put my workout clothes on, but I never made it to the gym, and today I had a doctor's appointment during my usual spin class. I didn't want to schedule it then, but I had an emergency; an emergency two years in the making.

Yes, it was about two years ago that my hip started hurting. I didn't want to rush to the doctor in case, you know, it was nothing or maybe something, but something that might go away on its own. No need to waste mine or the doctor's time.

Of course, in making that decision, I was ignoring my long history with orthopedic problems - when it comes to bones and joints and me, its never nothing, and it never goes away on its own. And let's not even mention the arthritis and osteoporosis that abounds in my family. Oh, and that ever so rare condition of avascular necrosis I have in my lunate. And that is the real reason I put off going to the doctor for so long; I thought I had something nothing short of a hip replacement would cure.

I figured it was arthritis, or the beginnings of osteoporosis or the worse possibility - that my Keinbach's Disease (the necrosis thingy) had started up in my hip. And then you know what's going happen. Yes, it would mean the end of my dual careers as a profession football and professional baseball player because that's what happened to Bo Jackson when his hip starting dying. And nobody wants that.

I did finally have a bone scan that ruled out osteoporosis, so that left the other two choices. I just needed to know if I was going to be like Mary Lou Retton and have my hips replaced long before I can apply for my AARP card. Or maybe I can have a nerve graft like I had in my hand. Either way we're looking at a long recovery plus an even longer scar, and frankly I have enough of those.

So went to visit my orthopedist and yes, I do have an orthopedist I call my own. Over the years he has removed a neuroma from foot, diagnosed that pesky wrist problem, cured my planter fasciitis, worked on my torn meniscus and most importantly, removed Mr. Collegy's $10,000 splinter. I think that makes him my orthopedist.

Guess what? No arthritis, no dying bones - just a little bursitis, and we can take care of that with a wee little shot of cortisone. And it was little, if like, you think a blue whale is a little fish. Do you know what it feels like to have a needle the size of a pencil poke you in the hip joint? No? Well I suggest you not find out.

After Dr. Sadist pulled that #2 sized needle out, it was fine, because they load that thing up with lidocain. Let me tell, though, a few hours later when it wears off, you don't feel so fine at all. Right now I'm moving around at a pace similar to the shoppers on senior day at Kroger, and since I've never seen one of those slow moving seniors in the Thursday morning killer pilates, I doubt I'll be there either. Maybe Friday

Front Door Service

noreply@blogger.com (Cat) — Fri, 08 Apr 2011 02:35:00 +0000

Once we actually got to the tournament, Dillon & Seyi
won the Georgia State Championship in Duo Interpretation.

The State tournament was the biggest tournament of the year, and I had three things I was in charge of:

Be at the high school at 10:25 am on Friday to get on the bus with the team
Bring the checks to pay for everything
Bring the suit jacket of one of the debaters

Really, not hard at all. I carefully put the checks into my purse so I would not forget them. The jacket was a non-issue since it was in the back of my van where the kid had left it weeks earlier. And 10:25? Compared to the 5:45 am meet-ups of most tournaments, that was nothing.

So I had three things that I had to do, but there were a few other optional tournament related things I spent a great deal of time on:

Buying the soft peppermints that have become a Starr's Mill tournament tradition.
Packing up the messenger bag I bring to all debate tournaments.
Complaining endlessly that the bus was leaving at 10:25 for a 45 minute ride to a tournament that didn't start until 1pm (this was Yankees favorite part as you can imagine.)

Let me just say it was an epic fail on all accounts. First of all, I went to Rite Aid instead of CVS for the mints, and the Rite Aid mints were hard - not the soft, melt in your mouth mints that make lovely speaking voices and bring good luck

I packed my messenger bag with all the usual debate essentials: Legal pads for flowing; red pens for the con side; green pens for the pro; black felt tip for filling out the ballot; a quarter for flipping for sides and a timer. Plus I had the away-from-home-for-a-long-time essentials: Ipod, phone, Advil, Chapstick, hand sanitizer, band aids (someone always needs a band aid at a debate tournament), and money for food.

So I got to the bus at exactly 10:25 because no way am I going to be there a minute earlier since it was absolutely ridiculous that we were leaving so early anyway. We made it about half a mile when we got stuck in road construction traffic. That's also when Hippie ask me if I had the jacket. Dang-it! Thankfully the bus driver decided we needed to turn around to get out of the traffic and agreed to go back to the school to get the jacket that is still in the back of my car.

Then a thought popped into my head. The checks! They were still carefully stowed in my purse. The purse that was still at home because I never take a purse to debate tournaments; I always take my messenger bag. You know the one that was so carefully packed it even had band aids in it? Band aids? Yes. Checks to pay for the tournament and judges? No.

After going back to the school to get the jacket, the very kind bus driver drove us to my house where Yankee was waiting outside with the checks. We got to the tournament just a few minutes before rounds. I guess the coach was taking into account my crazy brain when he scheduled the bus so early!

Here's the really amazing thing. That is not the first time a bus driver has had to go out of his/her way to take me somewhere because I forgot something. The other time was on a middle school band trip to Chicago when we had to go back to the hotel to pick up my wallet that I left behind. Can you believe I'm in charge of the lives of two children? And one of them has safely reached adulthood? Amazing really!

Once we got everyone paid and jacketed, and Yankee bought a three pound bag of CVS soft mints. The tournament went well. It wasn't Hippie and her partner's best weekend, but two of our students came home with a state championship, and we also had two semi-finalists and two quarter-finalists.

Now we are focusing on getting these kids to the NFL* National Tournament in Dallas, Texas in June. And for that we are having a fund-raiser. If you would like to make a tax-deductible donation to help us get there it would be greatly appreciated. Anything at all, no matter how small, will help make sure that every child who qualified can go. Just click on the badge below to go directly to the Starr's Mill fundraiser page. And rest assured, I am not the person responsible for bringing the checks to that tournament!

* The National Forensics League is the original NFL. That other organization is just a Johnny-come-lately.

Weigh Down Wednesday and the Sugar

noreply@blogger.com (Cat) — Wed, 06 Apr 2011 17:41:00 +0000

Do you remember the shoes from last week? And how I said I had no place to wear them? Well, I lied.* I bought them to wear to see BFF's daughter be crowned Queen of the Pilgrimage Ball. For those of you not from Small Town Mississippi, this is a huge deal and a huge secret, at least until the night of the ball thus the lie about my shoes. Mississippians like to take their celebrations with a huge helping of delicious food, and it would simply be rude to not partake. Because of my very thoughtful and polite nature, I may have gained two pounds.

Two days before we left for the festivities, Sparky was diagnosed with diabetes. I had been suspicious that he had it for about a week, but I was just going to wait until I took him to the vet to be boarded to have him checked out.

This is my regular boarding MO: Here are my dogs. Can you give them all of their shots and drain their anal glands plus give them a bath and haircut? Okay, great. See you next week.

But when Sparky sucked down a half gallon of water in an hour then peed a river onto the kitchen floor right in front of me, I thought maybe I should give the vet a call. Of course, they wanted me to bring him right in, and hey, guess what? He has caught the diabetes.

So they wrote me an Rx for insulin that has to be filled at the people pharmacy, and asked me if I'd ever given a shot to anyone? Hello? I'm not a nurse, doctor or heroin addict so why would I have possibly given anyone a shot? The tech came in, demonstrated one time then sent me on my way. To give two shots a day to my dog. Like I was even remotely qualified to do that.

I guess they were right to have faith in my shot-giving abilities, because Sparky is still alive. He's even perked up a little. Now he sleeps only about 20 hours a day instead of his usual 23.

The funny part is that one reason I work out and watch what I eat, and by watch what I eat, I mean thinking about watching what I eat, is my great fear of diabetes. I've seen first hand the suckiness of that disease, and I want no part of it. Maybe sticking a needle into my dog twice a day will make me think twice before I get into line at the Starbuck's drive-thru.

*Could this be the first documented case of lying on the interwebs?

Weigh Down Wednesday and Useless Skills

noreply@blogger.com (Cat) — Thu, 31 Mar 2011 00:08:00 +0000

It's Wednesday - late Wednesday - but still Wednesday, so that means we must check in on my diet progress. This week has gone much better than last week for two main reasons:

I didn't do the pre-weigh-in on Tuesday, so there where no false hopes.

Hippie didn't have any math problems last night thus I had no excuse to visit the China 9 Cafe. Do you think the 9 in their name represents the 9 pounds you gain from the General Tso's chicken?

Anyway, I lost those annoying two pounds from last week for a total of seven pounds down. I'm pretty happy with that. Almost as happy as I am with this:

This is the fire hydrant in my front yard. When I walked to the end of the drive way to get the paper the other morning it immediately caught my eye. This is because my useless skill is noticing anything out of place or different. It also caught Bender's eye, and he gave it a good barking to.

We all have useless skills. Things we are just innately good at, but that don't really translate into improving our lives. Yankee's is voice recognition. He can figure out any voice-over on a commercial, or animated character. When he first tried wowing me with this useless skill, I was less than blown over. I mean how did I know if he was right or not? But now that the internet is always within reach, I can check. He is always right.

Anyway my useless skill is noticing anything that is just not quite as it was. If someone has touched the stuff on my desk, I can tell no matter how carefully they've tried to leave it just as it was before. When Puffs cut the size of their tissues by three quarters of an inch, they didn't fool me for a second. This is why I was so shocked at the change in the fire hydrant because I had driven right past it the afternoon prior, and nothing jumped out as different. So either my noticing skill was off or the fire department does all of their painting overnight. I'm pretty sure that was what happened because that would explain the exceedingly sloppy job they did.

Sloppy or not, I love my new silver hydrant. Silver is my favorite metal. Most of my jewelry is either silver or white gold which is really just a tarnish-free silver. I like silver Christmas decorations and silver picture frames. I have a lovely stainless steel stove and garbage can in the kitchen which like silver on a larger scale.

But my new favorite obsession seems to be silver shoes. When I bought my latest pair, I realized I already had three other pairs. To be fair though, these beauties put all other silver shoes to shame.

Now, if only I had somewhere to wear them.

Two Quick Book Reviews

noreply@blogger.com (Cat) — Fri, 25 Mar 2011 12:39:00 +0000

I haven't been doing much writing, but I have been doing some reading, so I thought I'd share my opinions on two books.

The Weird Sisters by Eleanor Brown

If you are looking for excitement, adventure and thrilling plot twists, this is not the book for you. On the other hand, if you are looking for a well-written tale about three adult sisters who are finally ready to grow up, this is an excellent choice.

The weird sisters from the title is a reference to Shakespeare's three witches for whom the sisters are named by their Shakespeare obsessed father. At first I was a little intimidated by the fact that some of the conversation that passes back and forth through the family is made up of quotes from the bard's plays and sonnets, but Brown took those of us whose exposure to his work is minimal into account by explaining the quotes as they relate to the story.

The book begins with the three sisters returning to their childhood home in a small college town in Ohio. They all claim to come home to help their mother who has breast cancer, but each has her own secret reason for escaping her former life. Over the course of the book they take baby steps, both backward and forward, toward shaking their demons.

As one of four sisters, I can tell you that Brown has truly captured the mixed emotions of sisterhood. Overall The Weird Sisters is a well-written, pleasant read that I highly recommend.

Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk by David Sedaris

I love David Sedaris. I've read or listened to all of his previous books, so when I saw him on David Letterman promoting Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk, I was excited to know he had something new out, and I bought it for Yankee for Christmas. The other night I pulled it off his to-be-read pile, and snuggled into the bed ready to laugh out loud, but within fifteen minutes, I put it back onto Yankee's pile. Then I had to cleanse my mind's eye enough to be able to fall asleep.

The book is a collection of short stories featuring anthropomorphic animals, and I must admit I only read the first three of them so maybe I'm not a fair judge, but I could not go any further because they got progressively more cruel and depressing. For those of you who want to read stores about talking ducks, lizards and bears who do or think about doing cruel and disgusting things to each other or have such things done to them, by all means read this book, otherwise I'd recommend the rest of you steer clear.

Weigh Down Wednesday and Public Enemy #1

noreply@blogger.com (Cat) — Wed, 23 Mar 2011 23:34:00 +0000

The good news is that I conjoled Hippie it snapping this photo, so I don't have my usual PO'd face, but if ever I should look pissed it is today because I gained a pound! But wait, there's more. I actually gained two pounds overnight.

Yesterday I did my usual pre-WDW weigh-in, and I had lost a pound, so I was pretty happy. But today when I did the official weigh-in, I was up two pounds! And I know exactly who to blame - Public Enemy #1 AKA Kathy Cox.

Who is this Kathy Cox person you may ask. Kathy Cox was a social studies teacher at our local high school until she had the not so brilliant idea to run for state superintendent of schools, and unfortunately, she won. How could the state superintendent of schools cause someone to gain two pounds in a day you may ask. Well let me tell you.

Kathy Cox did three memorable things while in office:

Thing 1: She tried to have the word evolution in our biology books changed to "biological changes over time." Thankfully and surprisingly, she failed.

Thing 2: She won a million dollars on Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader? She promised to donate it to three schools, but then she declared bankruptcy and the schools had to go to court to get a small part of the promised money. I count that as fail.

Thing 3: She changed the entire math system in Georgia. I'm not even going to get into how ridiculous our math is, but I will say that Hippie will graduate from high school without taking Algebra, Geometry, Trigonometry or Calculus. Instead she will take Georgia Math I, Georgia Math II, Georgia Math III, and Georgia Math IV. How impressive is that going to look on the college applications of someone determined to go to school outside of the state of Georgia? I'm thinking not very.

Georgia students have the lowest SAT math scores in the country. Kathy Cox (or some education lobbyist) googled math scores and found out the Japanese have the highest scores in the world, so she decided we should just study math the same way they do. We needed a change fast, though, so instead of phasing it in with kindergartners we started with sixth graders. That way in five years they could take the PSAT, score off the charts, and she would receive accolades from thousands of adoring and appreciative Georgia citizens.

That first experimental class took their PSAT's last year and guess what? They scored lower than they had in previous years. Fail. Kathy Cox promptly resigned and was rewarded for her poor performance with a cushy Washington job.

Oh my god, Cat, what the heck has this got to do with two pounds? Well, because of Kathy Cox's mathematical error, we have to take Hippie to a math tutor twice a week. She gets done at dinner time and there is a really good Chinese place near Mathnasium. It is just so easy to get take out which is exactly what I did last night, and we all know how salty Chinese is.

Here is the formula:

Math tutoring + Chinese food = 2lb water weight gain

So instead of blaming my lack of will power or being too lazy to cook a healthy dinner, I'll blame some former elected official who really has nothing to do with what I eat. I mean really, why should I take the blame when I can blame it on Public Enemy #1?

My Three Pets

noreply@blogger.com (Cat) — Mon, 21 Mar 2011 17:41:00 +0000

Mr. Collegy was home for his first college spring break which he spent almost entirely on the couch with a box of Kleenex in his lap. I'm sure is sucked being sick on spring break, but the one upside was he easily meet his goal of watching 18 movies in a week. You gotta have goals.

He chose some of the movies because one of its characters is mentioned in a song by Scroobius Pip that he is writing a paper on for English. One of these movies was Double Indemnity starring Fred McMurray. It was really odd to watch the father from My Three Sons cast as the romantic lead in a film noir. It would be akin to watching George Lopez as the lead in Body Heat - just not right. It did however provide me with a title for this post which has nothing to do with film, Scroobius Pip or English papers.

It has to do with my three pets. If you know me in real life, you might say, "Hey, Cat you only have two pets." And you'd be rightish, too. Let me explain.

My first, best and most beloved pet is Sparky D. Dog. Nine and a half years ago, Hippie and I walked into a pet store to look at the rabbits, and we walked out with the cutest little black and silver schnauzer puppy which Hippie promptly named Sparky.

Sparky is not like any other schnauzer I've ever known. He's very friendly and loves everybody he meets, but his best feature is that he rarely barks. When people come over he sings to them like a beagle.

Our second pet is Bender. Technically Bender is Hippie's dog, but Yankee and I do the majority of dog care for him. I can describe him as five pounds of annoyance. He barks at everything with that shrill, yippy small dog bark. He pees whenever a cute girl comes into the house which is quite often since Hippie has a lot of cute girl friends. And let's just say taking him for a ride in the car is one of the most miserable experiences ever.

Then there is our third pet - Stumpy. Technically he isn't a pet at all, but a squirrel who lives in our yard. I blogged about Stumpy last spring because suddenly this tiny squirrel appeared in our yard who, instead of having a big, fluffy squirrel tail, had a little white cottontail.

We watched him grow over the summer and fall. If Yankee or I saw him we always mentioned it. Frankly, we got very attached to the little guy, although he doesn't seem to share any of that attachment. He disappeared for few months over the winter, but now he's back, fully grown, but still sporting a stumpy little cottontail. Of course, Stumpy could be a girl for all I know. It's not like squirrels wear lipstick and high heels, so how am I to know.

I was really excited to see him running through the yard again, and sort of jealous when I spied him in the neighbors yard. I guess that kind of makes him my third - and easiest - pet.

Weigh Down Wednesday and I'm Too Sexy for a Diet

noreply@blogger.com (Cat) — Wed, 16 Mar 2011 17:15:00 +0000

It's Wednesday, and I'm happy to report I lost a pound and a half of flesh this week, which makes five and a half total pounds. I'd like to be losing a little faster so I might check out a book a friend recommended called Crazy Sexy Diet - not Crazy SEX Diet like I thought when I first read it. The Crazy SEX Diet sounds like a diet made up by some man, so he can convince his wife that all she has to do is have tons of crazy sex, and she'll lose weight.

The real Crazy Sexy Diet is evidential a plant based diet which is all the craze on one end of the diet spectrum - the cow and fried chicken based diet being on the other end. People can argue forever over which one is better, but I can settle one argument right now with a known truth. There is nothing sexy about a diet. Think about it. Have you ever watched a movie star lick lowfat humus off the belly of his co-star? No. It's chocolate syrup or fully loaded whipped cream. Is it hotter to watch someone bite into a chocolate covered strawberry or a high-fiber protein bar? The body that results from a diet might be sexy, but getting it is anything but.

I'd like to say something about the perpetually P.O.ed face I have on all of my weigh-down Wednesday pictures. I think it's because I'm taking the pictures myself. In the past I forced Hippie into photographer duty, so smiling at her was quite natural. This time around, I've been using a tripod and the timer to supply this photographic record of my not-so sexy diet. Let me tell you, it is almost impossible to look natural and smiley when you've run from the camera to the predetermined spot for the picture. Maybe next week I'll get her to snap the picture to see if it proves my theory. Of course, it could just as easily prove Hippie's theory of my P.O.ed default face.

Weigh Down Wednesday and Bosu Belly Busting

noreply@blogger.com (Cat) — Wed, 09 Mar 2011 12:35:00 +0000

I guess POed is my default face after all.

This will have to be a quick post because guess what Hippie and I have to do in a little while? Finish that dang debate tournament from the other weekend. Hopefully we'll be done before 2:30am.

Anyway, I lost a pound this week, and hey, a pound is a pound, so I'm happy about it. But better than the lost pound is the fact that I can see the results of a special class I've been taking at our gym called Bosu Belly Busters.

I love a good alliteration -both of my kids' first and middle names are alliterations - so how could I pass up Bosu Belly Busters even if I had no clue as to what a Bosu was? Not to mention the fact it was being taught by one of my three favorite instructors, Sergent Pilates. Plus, my belly? It is in serious need of some busting.

It turns out a Bosu is basically half of a yoga ball. It looks innocent enough, but in the hands of Sgt. Pilates it became an instrument of torture. I was willing to tell all after only a few minutes on this thing. This is one of the reasons it's good I've never been trusted with any state secrets, because after a forty-five minute class I would have given up the nuclear codes had someone asked and had I known them.

The thing is the torture has paid off. Could you bounce a quarter on my stomach? No. Would I parade around the gym with a bare mid-drift? No. But when I glanced over at myself in the mirror during Muscle Challenge this morning I wasn't disgusted by what I saw, and that's a big improvement over six weeks ago.

Weigh Down Wednesday and the New Diet Plan

noreply@blogger.com (Cat) — Wed, 02 Mar 2011 12:01:00 +0000

I lost three pounds this week with a new diet plan. I scrapped the flash diet for something that seems to be working better. It's called the spend 35 hours in two days at a debate tournament diet.

Here's how it works:

Step 1: Beg your coaches to host your district tournament at your school.

Step 2: Spend a few weeks prepping for said tournament.

Step 3: Have Day 1 of the tournament (Friday) go smashingly.

Step 4: Have Day 2 fail epically to the point that you don't leave the school until 2:20am Sunday morning.

Step 5: Weigh yourself the following Wednesday to find you've lost 3 pounds.

Easy-Peasy!

A Book Review: Kindred Spirits

noreply@blogger.com (Cat) — Mon, 28 Feb 2011 12:57:00 +0000

A few years back I was in the bookstore looking for something to take to the beach with me, when the title Bubbles Ablaze caught my eye because, really, how could it not? I devoured it, and quickly whipped through the rest of the Bubbles series which is how I became a fan of its author, Sarah Strohmeyer. So when she offered an advanced copy of her upcoming novel, Kindred Spirits, for review, I jumped at the chance, and I'm so glad I did.

The book's opening chapter focuses on the end of Lynne Flannery's eight year battle with cancer. Although it is sad, Lynne faces her final hours with grace, dignity and even a little humor. Through Lynne's eyes, we get to know her three best friends; Carol, Mary Kay and Beth. The longtime friendship of these four woman began in young adulthood, but had waned somewhat in more recent years.

Lynne leaves a letter for the other three women, asking them to do something for her she was unable to accomplish before her death. The three of them of them loaded up in a car to drive from their home in Connecticut to western Pennsylvania in order to fulfill their friend's dying wish. While they explored this unfamiliar part of the country, they also explored parts of themselves and their friendship that were also previously unknown to them. Along the way they share laughter, tears and martinis. Over the course of the trip, it is apparent that by asking them for this favor, Lynne has actually done them an even bigger favor because their friendship strengthens.

It may start with a death, but Kindred Spirits is truly a celebration of life. Sarah Strohmeyer is able to weave together the separate stories of these four women into one story about the life affirming power of friendship. It will remind women to nourish friendships because those friendships are what helps us through the trials of life. And do I even need to mention the great martini recipes?

Book Review Fail

noreply@blogger.com (Cat) — Fri, 25 Feb 2011 14:13:00 +0000

We are hosting our district debate tournament today and tomorrow, but amazingly someone other than yours truly stepped up to be in charge. Now that brave soul is sick, which, of course, means I'm back on duty.

For this reason my review of Kindred Spirits by Sarah Strohmeyer is delayed until Monday - pending my survival of the weekend. Remember when surviving the weekend meant partying until the wee hours of Saturday and Sunday morning, spending all day Sunday lazing about, staying up into Monday to get all your projects done and still waking up fresh as a daisy on Monday morning? Now it means dealing with 140 kids, coaches, judges and parents. And there is no daisy-freshness waiting for me on the other side!

Weigh Down Wednesday and Weighing in on Toms

noreply@blogger.com (Cat) — Wed, 23 Feb 2011 11:28:00 +0000

In the week that has gone by on my Flash Diet, I've learned a few things:

Though normally embarrassed by very little, I do find it blush inducing to pull out my iphone to snap a photo of whatever I'm about to eat.

A picture is not worth way a 1,000 words. I still need to write down everything that I eat.

No matter how simple the diet is, you have to get into that dieting mode, and I'm just not quite there yet.

As you can surmise, the first week was not a grand success. Nothing lost, but nothing gained either, so I guess that's good.

But let's not worry about weigh down wednesday right now. Instead let's talk about something fun, like, say, my new shoes.

I've never been a huge fan of Toms. I thought they were okay for cute little twins and college girls, but that all changed when I saw someone wearing the red ones. I mean you know what they say about the red ones, or maybe that's the green ones. Anyway, I had to have them.

When I ordered them, I tried to order a pair of vegan Toms for Hippie, because she's a hippie and refuses to participate in the joy of wearing dead animals on her feet. Those of you unfamiliar with Toms are probably thinking Cat has lost her mind because those shoes are obviously made from canvas which indeed they are with what appears to be a rubber and possibly hemp sole, but the insole is leather. They have a few vegan styles on the website, but honestly I think the only ones made are the ones in the pictures because whenever I try to order them, they are out of stock.

Okay, enough digressing because the point of this isn't vegan shoes, the point of it is the look on Hippie's face when I put my new Toms on. Oh how I wish I had a camera, or rather had a camera in my hand pointed at her because I do have a camera. Who knew that this would be the one thing her mother could do that would absolutely mortify her? If I were the mother of a typical 15 year old girl, she would be in a constant state of mortification, but I guess Hippie has inherited my slow to embarrass gene.

Evidently once a person graduates from college, she is no longer young enough to wear Toms. It's funny, while the website and the shoe packaging is plastered with notices that for every pair you buy, they give a pair to a poor child, no where did I read that they are not to be worn by middle aged moms. At first I was like why can't we wear these? Are they too hip for us? But after wearing them for fourteen hours at a debate tournament on Saturday, the reason became apparent. The young people want to keep all the bliss of the most comfortable shoes ever to themselves. Selfish little brats!

Be sure to come by on Friday to read my first ever legit book review.

The Mother of that Weird Humanoid

noreply@blogger.com (Cat) — Fri, 18 Feb 2011 17:01:00 +0000

Last night I decided to impart some motherly wisdom onto Mr. Collegy, but when I clicked onto the message we had been passing back and forth all day, Mr. Collegy's name had changed to Facebook User and that bizarre generic humanoid shape had replaced his profile picture. Had my only son defriended me?!

A quick search of his name yielded several different Mr. Collegy's (who knew so many mothers with the last name Collegy would pick Mr. for a first name?), but none were the smart, wisecracking, techno-loving Mr. Collegy I gave birth to. Although it seemed absolutely impossible, I concluded he had deleted his account.

My first thought was how was I going to communicate with him now? Then I remembered that phone I pay a small fortune for every month. I texted him. Then I waited - and waited - and waited. When thirty minutes passed with no reply, the worry really set in.

I used to not be a worrier, but then I became someone's mother and that worry gene kicked in. Plus I'm related to The Grandmaster Worry, so naturally horrible scenarios immediately clouded my mind. He's been arrested by the Secret Facebook Police, or he's died in a horrible car crash (how that would result in account deletion, I'm not sure, but it made sense while I was worrying last night).

Normally I'd pile these worries onto Yankee but he was busy flying over polygamists compounds and listening to the Captain's life story. I had to divorce my first wife because she was a bitch. Then my second wife was crazy, but I finally found my soul mate when I met Svetlana at a get together arranged by Lovely Russian Brides, LLC.

After about forty-five minutes it occurred to me that, hey, I could call him, like on the phone - with my voice. Which I did only to get his voice mail. I tried to be cool with my message, not letting on that I was near full blown panic mode. I sat in the bed and played ten hundred games of solitaire waiting on him to call. Okay it was more like 3 games because it only took five minutes for him to call me back.

He had put a temporary hold on his account because he was working on a big JAVA project and Facebook was distracting him. Not only had he been incredibly responsible there, but he had even sent me an email before he did it, so I wouldn't worry. Email? I didn't even know he knew how to use email anymore!

I think my boy is really grown up. I guess maybe he doesn't need my motherly advice anymore.

Flash Diet + Weigh-in Wednesday = A Fabulous New Me

noreply@blogger.com (Cat) — Wed, 16 Feb 2011 12:35:00 +0000

I listened to part of an interview with Timothy Ferriss on the radio the other day. He was promoting his book The Four Hour Body, a compilation of advice on getting into optimal health with the least amount of effort which sounds pretty good to me.

The interviewer asked him a question about diet, and he said the easier the diet, the more likely a person is to stick to it. He has a diet he follows called the slow carb diet which is basically beans, meat, spinach and red wine. While I like three of the four building blocks of that diet - not a fan of red wine - I'm also really into the forbidden fruit - white carbs and, well, fruit, so I know I will never stick to that diet.

He then mentioned the Flash Diet otherwise known as the iphone diet. All you do is take a picture of everything you eat before you eat it. So simple. Ferriss points out there are two reasons this diet works. One: It's very easy. Two: because you stop before every meal to take a picture, it gives you a minute to think about what you are going to eat before you dive in.

I have been in a lifelong war with my weight. Sometimes I'm winning, sometimes I'm losing. About ten years ago, I was losing big time. I was at an all time high when Yankee and I went on a vacation to Maine. Even though I knew the numbers on the scale where way high, it wasn't until we got our pictures back from that vacation that I truly understood I was morbidly obese. That day, I bought a little notebook and started writing down everything I ate. After I lost about twenty pounds, we bought a treadmill, I started exercising and lost another twenty pounds. Then we joined the gym and I lost another twenty.

It took me about a year and a half to lose a total of 67lbs. Over the next eight years, I've managed to keep most of it off. I have gone up and down some, though, and right now I'm up 25lbs which really frightens me. I know what it's like to be a great big ole fat girl, and I don't want to go back there.

Looking back at what has been successful me in the past, I see that just like Ferriss said, simplicity reigns. One thing that worked really well was when I posted a picture of myself every week for Weigh-in Wednesday. A little accountability goes a long way! So I'm going to start the Flash diet and posting a weekly photo update of my progress in hopes of dropping that 25lbs again. Here's photo number 1.

Default Face

noreply@blogger.com (Cat) — Wed, 09 Feb 2011 01:21:00 +0000

I had a very educational weekend. It was similar to one of those educational weekends for doctors sponsored the makers of artificial elbows. Those weekends generally start with complementary first class air tickets for the doctor and the doctor's spouse (or the person playing the doctor's spouse for the weekend) to a warm, tropical paradise where the doctors spend the weekend playing golf, enjoying couples massages, dining on fine food followed by long, restful slumber on 500 count Egyptian cotton sheets. Oh, and there is that one hour mandatory seminar on the superiority of the Belbow-Elbow 2000 over all of its artificial elbow rivals - it is an educational weekend after all.

My educational weekend was almost identical, except for a few minor changes. For example instead of business class in an airplane, Yankee and I rode to our destination in a yellow school bus which must have made a wrong turn because we ended up at a high school in a freezing downpour rather than a tropical resort. There were no couples massages, but I did get to sit on a hard plastic bench in a school cafeteria for hours. The bed was really comfy because it was my own. Of course I didn't get to get in it until 12:30am and had to get out of it at 5:30am because our debate coach decided driving back and forth to a school an hour away was much more sensible than staying in a hotel.

Even with the slight differences, there was a great deal of education going on. Here are a few things I learned:

When we arrived 30 minutes early on Saturday morning, the coach said - I'd rather be early than late. Hippie replied (under her breath of course) I'd rather be on time. Who knew there was a third option.

I learned that when I try to function on too little sleep, everything pisses me off. Or maybe it has nothing to do with too little sleep. Maybe it's just the way I am.

Because I also learned that my default face is POed. This is according to Hippie. I was really sad to learn this because I know a few people who always look mad at the world, and I really hate to think I'm one of them. Plus, if it's true - and I submit the following photo for your judgment - I just don't think I can get a new default face at this advanced age.

Yeah, POed about sums it up

I also learned that if you put your blood, sweat and tears into something you care about plus endless hours riding in school buses, sitting in school cafeteria and dealing with crap you have no business dealing with, good things can happen. Like when at the end of an excruciatingly long debate tournament, your team leaves with three Georgia novice/JV state championships - one of them belonging to your very own daughter. Believe me, at that moment in time, my default face was happy, happy, happy!

Waiting for New Year's Resolution Fail Version 2.0

noreply@blogger.com (Cat) — Fri, 04 Feb 2011 00:15:00 +0000

When Yankee and I joined our gym nine years ago, we were statistical oddities in that we joined in May instead of January like the normal majority. That's why we were odd that day - other days it's for other reasons.

Those statistically normal ~~victims~~ people I see every cold January day are huddled at the sales desk, signing up for the three year special because the pleasant lady behind the desk with the official gym emblem embroidered over her left boob has explained it is clearly the most economical plan. They are there for one reason and one reason only - they've made a New Year's resolution to lose weight and get into shape. And this is the year they are going to do it!

I hate the first three weeks of January. It's not that I don't want people to be successful in their fitness pursuits. It's just that I want them to do it with no inconvenience to me. And let me tell you, the hordes of newbies trying to find the elliptical start button or packing pilates class so tightly that I cannot do a complete ticktock, are very inconvenient to me. Due to a severe lack-o-waist syndrome,* I need to be able to fully both tick and tock.

It goes far beyond inconvenience, actually bordering on criminal conduct, when one of them steals my spot in yoga class. None of the regular yogis would dream of laying their mat in the front left hand corner just as I would never dream of taking their regular places, but it never fails that in January some ding-dang resolutioner has her mat in my spot. I need to get an addendum put onto the already book length gym contract: Initial here stating you will not put your mat in Cat's spot.

Of course it's a well known fact that , according the New Year's resolution experts, resolutionologists if you will, almost 40% of resolutions are broken by the end of January which means by week three of January there is a significant drop in spot stealing incidents. That's good news - sort of. One thing the resolutionologists fail to mention, but I have observed over the nine January's I've belonged to the gym, is the First of February Uptick, when a few of those failed resolutioners give it one more try.

This week classes have been packed again. In yoga I did get my spot, but I have never been in a room so crammed full of stinky, sweaty people in my life. So now I have to be patient - again - and wait for their New Year's resolution fail -again. Unfortunately, I'm a little short on that particular virtue.

*Not to be confused with my no-ass-atall syndrome.

Snow Daze

noreply@blogger.com (Cat) — Tue, 11 Jan 2011 19:21:00 +0000

Our county's new school superintendent started his new job two weeks ago. He moved to Georgia from Maine, so I'm thinking it just about killed him to look out the window at this:

and have to cancel school, but that is exactly what he's had to do for the past two days because in the South we deal with snow and ice one way - hibernation.

And you know what we Southerns love? We love it when people move here from snowy places and say things like "Back home you have to have ten feet of snow before they cancel school!" or "You Southern's don't know how to drive in the snow!" It really makes us happy inside, so if you're a Yankee living south of the Mason-Dixon line be sure to say something along those lines to your new neighbors.

Personally, I'm a little afraid of snow. I think the technical psychiatric term is flakaphobia. Or maybe that is the fear of dandruff. Whatever it is, it's not that I don't like snow, I just don't like being in a car in snow. At all. Ever. No matter if the most experienced snow driver in the world is behind the wheel. All I can think of is skidding off the road, freezing to death in a ditch and not being found until spring - or the next day if it happened in the South because that is usually how long it takes the snow to melt here.

Anyway, as part of my snowed-in hibernation, I've been hanging out in my pajamas for the past 48 hours which led to this conversation with Yankee:

Yankee: Did you get that receipt I put on the desk for the pajamas I got you for Christmas?

Cat: Yeah, they were short sleeved and too small, so I returned them.

Yankee: Did you buy any new ones?

Which makes me think he doesn't like my pajamas. I really don't know what the problem is.