well, I'm back in town. The funeral was nice, the weather was perfect. Other than the hearse missing the turn and getting lost on the way to the cemetery (!), everything was perfect. Even that was just a good laugh...no one was really in any hurry. We honored her the best we could.
I also gained almost 2 lbs. Sigh. Here we go again. :)
she's gone. Passed away in her sleep yesterday morning, which was the best we could hope for. (God, I'm sorry about that "kicking you in the teeth" part. Maybe you're an okay guy after all.) I'm going up this weekend for the funeral, and will be back next Wednesday.
Go With God (right-click, save-as)
sorry for the delayed update...I actually got back to Texas two weeks ago Friday, in time to do the MS150. Which was miserable, since I came back from Wisconsin with a cold to end all colds, and the wind on the first day was horrendous. Nothing like a 20 mph gusty headwind sucking your will to live for 100 miles to really make an event memorable. Then my riding buddy quit at lunch the first day, and I tried to ride out the 2nd day with a group that was too fast, and my gears were slipping when I got out of the saddle to climb...it was awful, and I bagged it at lunch the 2nd day myself. Worst. MS150. Ever. (I actually had written part of a longer ride report last week, but screw it. It sucked. I hated it. The End.)
As for my grandma, I'm glad we went up to visit. She was in and out of consciousness, and very weak, but she was still in her right mind most of the time. We were able to talk to her, and she knew we were there to see her. I hate to say that we were there to say our goodbyes, but that's probably the case. It looks like she's not going to recover enough to leave the nursing home, and they're expecting either the cancer will take her or pneumonia will. The estimate when I left was about a month, either way. At this point, they're hoping it will be the pneumonia, since it's a kinder way to go. I'm going to stop there, because that whole situation just makes me want to kick God in the teeth. I mean, she's in her mid-80s and she's led a mostly good life, but if anyone deserves to go quietly in her sleep in her own bed, it's my grandma. The thought of her dying in pain, helpless, in a nursing home? I know it's never about deserve, but that sucks.
So anyway, haven't really done much of anything of note since I got back, except gain 4 lbs and lose 2, ride my bike some, go to work, and try to find new and creative methods to make my nose stop running. (I think I've finally gotten over the cold, though my nose still runs when I try to drink on the bike, which is driving me CRAZY.)
March 10: "Next up, the Space Race century in April. I will make the 100-mile cutoff this year. :)"
March 17: "Next up is Space Race on April 6th. 100 miles, baby."
April 2: "Now, really, sincerely...next up--Space Race!"
Now, here we are on April 3rd, and guess what?
I'm not doing Space Race.
Oh, obviously I wanted to...but I'm going to be driving to Wisconsin instead. I won't get into the details, but my grandma had complications after what she thought was going to be a routine surgery last week, and has been in and out of the hospital since. Now they're saying she may not make it very much longer, and are advising family that want to see her to make the trip now. I thought about putting it off until Monday, but then we would be running into the MS150 at the end of the trip. Besides, this lady has been at every major and minor milestone of my entire life, and has been the beloved center of our family for 3 generations...I don't want to look back and have to say that I missed out on spending time with her in her last days because I wanted to do a 100-mile bike ride.
We're hitting the road early tomorrow morning, so I don't know when I'll be back here again. Internet access on the trip and in my hometown is a bit iffy, since small towns in WI aren't exactly on the bleeding edge of technology. Most likely, it will be sometime late next week. In the meantime, if you're so inclined, please keep my grandma in your thoughts and prayers. She's a great, sweet soul, and this world will be a lesser place without her.
Song: This Woman's Work (right-click, save as)
UPDATE: Library is transferred. The advice of the lovely commenters was dead on...the solution was to buy a big ol' USB drive and give up on the XP-Mac network. After all that frustration, I think it took longer to buy the drive than it did to transfer the files. All hail sneakernet!
Confidential to my husband's officemate who shall remain nameless (let's call him Bob): This is no reflection on my troubleshooting skills, dude. I just don't have enough patience or ego to make it worth my while to work on it any longer. :)
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ok, so we needed a new computer at home. And I kind of hate what I've seen of Vista, so I decided that now would be as good a time as any to switch to a Mac. I mean, I love my ipod, and all those clever commercials can't be wrong, right? Besides, the new iMacs are pretty.
So, bonus day rolls along, and I run out and buy a brand new iMac. So far so good--it's fast, it is indeed pretty, it fits perfectly in the little space in the hutch of the desk, and I'm mostly adjusting to the interface changes...
But.
I CANNOT GET IT TO SEE MY WINDOWS SHARES SO I CAN TRANSFER MY FARGIN' ITUNES LIBRARY.
Oh, it sees them, I guess, in that they show up in Finder, but I can't actually open/mount them. I've changed workgroup settings, I've set sharing wide open on both sides, I've sprinkled pixie dust* all over the place--nothing. I'm pretty sure this is a Windows issue, since there was a brief shining moment when I could access the Mac shares from the Windows machine. If I had been smart, I would have transferred everything then, but I couldn't figure out where anything was supposed to go on the Mac HD. I dropped one folder into the Mac and then tried to add it to itunes, but never could find it on the Mac's file structure. And now I can't connect to the Mac's shares from the Windows machine anymore either, so it doesn't matter.
I have tried everything google has come up with, I have consulted our resident experts, and it appears that XP Home is part of what's messing with me since it only allows guest access to shares (which...what?!) and it doesn't allow me to edit the local security policy. I have been working on this for over a week and I just want to kill something. It's been a long time since I've felt this clueless sitting in front of a computer. Aren't Macs supposed to be easy?
Grr.
*where " sprinkled pixie dust" = "cursed like a sailor and threw things"
well, it has been a while, hasn't it? I'm kind of going through one of those times where I have nothing interesting to say, and writing about anything is a struggle. For those of you waiting with bated breath for the Urban Dare report, it's about 1/3 done. So, at that pace, I should be able to post a recap of the race by the end of the year. Sigh.
I know.
So what have I been doing when I'm NOT writing here? Working, keeping my house sort of clean, experimenting with various crockpot recipes (roasts, mostly...beef has been good, pork has been bad), trying to negotiate the details of my impending move and how I'm going to pay for it, trying to decide (yet again) whether I'll ride in the MS150 since the company team still has openings, riding my bike, slowly getting back to the gym more than once a week. And getting both inspired and appalled by The Biggest Loser every week.
I'm really conflicted on this show...I just started watching it this season, and there are a lot of things I hate about it--the unrealistically fast weight loss, which makes them disappointed when they "only" lose 2 lbs, the fact that they make 300-lb people run, the unnecessary drama, the gross food challenges like that donut one this week*, the incessant product-whoring, and even some of the people (Amy, Neil, Kim--I'm looking at you).
But then there's the parts I love--Kae, with her iron will and strong opinions and Julie with her down-home personality (though I suspect that both would get tiresome in person), the little triathlon this week (even if it was in the wrong order), and most of all, the "after leaving the show" reveals.
Looking at those lists, it's pretty obvious that the bad outweighs the good for me. So why do I keep watching it? Because realistic or not, it's inspiring. Every time I watch a show, I want to run out to the gym right afterward. Even though I know I'll never have the same results they do because I just don't have the time, it makes me believe that I am capable of getting my results eventually. And hey, anything that motivates my ass to the gym has gotta be a good thing, right?
I mean, if that whiny, conniving drama queen Amy can lose 100 lbs, I can totally lose my 60. Though I suspect it's going to take me a bit longer...like, years longer. Hell, it already has. :) So the bottom-line reason I keep watching this stupid, kind of insulting show is that it makes me believe that I can do this, and that it's worth doing.
*right after "green week", too, when they waggled their fingers at all the waste produced by junk food. Then they make a challenge out of smashing about 100 lbs of donuts to find a $5000 chip...how did those donuts get there? Boxes? Trucks? Not to mention the food waste...not that donuts are at all nutritional or something that you would feed to starving people instead of grinding them into the carpet...but still. For all the bitching they do about how much food Americans over-consume, it seemed supremely wasteful and kind of mean-spirited. But hey, fat people + a huge stack of donuts = comedy gold, right? Ugh.
I've decided that in honor of NaNoWriMo, NaBloPoMo*, et. al, I am going to be participating in a monthly challenge of my own: JoScalIgMo. Joy's Scale-Ignoring Month. I will not be weighing in during the month of November. At all. My scale went up on the closet shelf this morning, and there it shall stay until December 1st.
I'm doing this for a couple reasons. One, the scale is seriously bumming me out. I get on every day, and no matter what kind of day I've had, it always tells me a number between 197 and 201. I am very, very tired of seeing these numbers. Will they still exist if I don't see them? Sure. But it will stress me out less. The other reason I'm doing this is to see what my weight does when I'm not watching it. I'm still trying to eat healthy, eat at home more, work out every day...just not trying to use the scale for validation of my efforts (or lack thereof). I'm hoping that the "watched pot" principle will apply here--the scale numbers will only go down if I stop looking at them. Superstition as a weight loss plan? Hell, I've tried everything else. :)
In response to a couple comments on my last post...yes, "merging the two households" means what you think it means. :) The year apart was good for me, not least because I discovered that some of the problems that I thought came with the marriage were actually caused by me, not us. There are still problems, don't get me wrong. I'm a little worried that we weren't separated enough during the past year...in the 10 years we've been on and off, there's never really been a period where we didn't see/talk to each other at all for more than a week or two, and this was no exception. There are things we're going to have to work out (preferably before my lease ends in December). But all things considered, I've decided that maybe the marriage is worth another shot.
Song: Be and Be Not Afraid (right-click, save-as)
*I thought about trying NaBloPoMo, but then I missed the first day. I suppose I could still do the rest of the month, unofficially.
I'm moving out of my house in December. I gave my landlords' required 60-day notice, and now we enter the 2 months of keeping the house clean enough to show at all times. Ugh.
See, I'm not much of a housekeeper. I subscribe to more of a clutter collecting, critical-mass approach to home maintenance. Like, the cat hair on the living room carpet doesn't exist unless you can discern its color from the front door. Or if a bedroom door is closed when you arrive at my house, it's probably best that you don't open it unless you want to be crushed by the enormous tottering pile of chaos on the other side. That sort of thing.
Now, though, I have to do something about the non-public areas of my house, because I'm pretty sure anyone who is thinking about living there might want to see ALL the rooms, not just the ones that I have deemed fit for public consumption (generally speaking: kitchen, living room, one bathroom...and heaven forbid anyone arrives earlier than expected) And I have to clean them for real, too, because they're probably going to want to see the closets.
But you know...this will be good for me. If it takes 3 weeks to form a habit, surely I'll have this daily housekeeping nonsense down by December. And then I'll just be that much better off when we merge the two households again. Either that, or we'll know for sure that we need to budget for a real housekeeper.
I think I almost hit a cyclist with my car today...I didn't see him until he yelled at me.
I only feel the teeniest bit guilty, though, because he was yelling his obscenities at me as he was riding at least 10 mph against traffic on a divided 4-lane road, on the fucking sidewalk*. I wasn't looking for him because he shouldn't have been there. Jerk.
If I had been less startled and more quick-witted, I could have been one of the few drivers who has ever shouted at a cyclist to get ON the road. :)
*before anyone asks what I was doing on the sidewalk--I was turning right out of a driveway, and was just inching a bit into the crosswalk as he yelled. I had already checked for pedestrians, so there was no reason to look for anyone coming from that direction on my side of the street.
got back from vacation last night, was happy to be home. The road trip was fun, would have been more so if I hadn't suggested to the boy that he bring a friend. The friend wasn't a bad kid, really...just different than Noah, and it wore on me after 4 days. Other people's kids are always more obnoxious than your own, right? :)
If I had it to do over again, I would have stayed in New Braunfels the entire time. The hotel in San Antonio smelled like mold, the wifi only worked in the lobby (which was in a separate building) and the door had a huge open gap at the bottom, ideal for letting in the crickets. Seaworld was just okay, and Six Flags was a 100-degree nightmare. Noah's friend didn't like roller coasters, and after half an hour he decided that he didn't like any rides, really. He spent the next hour trying to convince Noah that they wanted to go to the waterpark side of the park, until we finally did. Other than wishing I had brought a book, it turned out a good thing. I didn't realize how close I was to completely frying my brain until it had a chance to cool off a little bit. :) We left at 4:00, all of us mildly sunburned and crabby, and me with a monster headache. I don't know how people stay all day at that place. Maybe they just have the good sense to go in April instead of August.
Seaworld was better, after I got a little salty with the friend in the beginning about his scornful dismissal of attractions that he didn't want to see (which was pretty much everything but the sharks and the waterpark). To his credit, he was much more good-natured for the rest of the visit, but he and Noah only lasted through a couple more shows before I gave up and set them loose in the waterpark again.
Schlitterbahn was better all around. For one thing, it was an outright waterpark, so there was no need to convince the boys to do anything but that. Also, we could pack a lunch and drinks and keep them with us in the park, so I wasn't stuck finding, and spending $40 on, crappy amusement park food (though Seaworld actually wasn't too bad in that regard, either). The hotel in New Braunfels smelled much better, had an inside door, and was quite comfortable. With as much time as they spent in the water at the other places, I should have just had us all buy a season pass to Schlitterbahn and been done with it. It would have been cheaper, and more fun besides. Next year, that's totally what we're doing. (Minus the friend.)
I took the whole week off, figuring I'd need today and tomorrow to decompress after all that driving. I was right. I slept till 11:00 today, then went to see a man about a bike. That took about 10 minutes, so I've spent the rest of the afternoon catching up on my blog reading and cleaning up my DVR.
Speaking of bikes...after much agonizing, I've decided to switch shops. Long story short, I'm going with the shop that sponsors the club, so that I can do all my local shopping in one place and eliminate my divided loyalties. I still like the old shop fine, and I still recommend them to people when I can, but the club shop makes more sense for me. He's working up a quote for me on the components (his ballpark figure was within the range I was willing to pay), and the cost for the bike build is going to come out just about the same at either place. It feels kind of like a breakup with my old shop, but I take comfort in the knowledge that they probably won't even notice. :)
Now I just hope it will quit raining long enough for me to get in some miles this weekend so I can hit 5,000 miles by mid-September.
Song o' the day: Dream Vacation (right-click, save-as)
...so let me just say a bunch of really boring stuff instead.
So we're setting out after the club ride on Saturday, leaving Rob and the cats to their own devices for 5 days. Hopefully, the house will still be standing when I get back.
Now I need to find another kind of flower to put on the porch rail. Know any flowers that can survive with minimal watering in high-90s heat? Besides cacti?
Song o' the day: Dead Flowers* (link removed)
*hee...I was torn between this one and "Where Have All The Flowers Gone?".
Things I have wanted to do all week but have not had time and/or energy for:
Post topics that I've started to write on, but then abandoned because their timeliness has passed or they just started to bore the crap out of me:
The songs that would have gone with these posts, had I been able to write them to my satisfaction:
What (if anything) you should do with those links:
I think I need to find a t-shirt that says, 200 lbs 4EVER! Because I don't think I'm ever going to lose another pound again. Because I suck. Also, I hate everybody.
Well, no...not REALLY. I've been sort of a crankypants for the past few days, and this is not helped by the fact that my truck has seemed determined to self-destruct. I mean, it runs fine and all the important stuff works, but in the space of just three weeks, someone backed into my front bumper, a rock dinged my windshield, and I lost 3 hubcaps. The windshield thing and two of the hubcap losses happened yesterday. You know, just once I'd like to be able to turn in one of my leases in pristine condition. This time I almost made it--there wasn't a scratch or blemish anywhere on it until after I ordered its replacement. And the very day I get the notice that the new car is in, all hell breaks loose. Is my truck jealous? I feel like I'm in a Herbie movie over here.
It'll all be okay--the windshield's on order, and the bumper repair will be done as soon as it stops raining for a day or so (another reason for the crankiness). As for the hubcaps...I ordered a replacement for the first one yesterday afternoon, but then after I lost two more on the way home (watching the 3rd hubcap roll off as I exited the freeway--that was an cool feeling) I decided that maybe my driving style wasn't entirely to blame here. I paid a visit to the folks who had done my tire rotation a couple weeks back, and tried to remain calm while I explained that their service, while speedy and reasonably-priced, may be causing my truck to jettison its hubcaps. The guy was very nice, and after checking the lone remaining cap, offered to replace all 3 of the missing ones for me (I *heart* dealers). Since he only had one in stock, he asked if he could hang on to my remaining cap until the other 2 came in--"At least they'll all match now!" Thank you, Mr. Brightside. :)
So yeah...not my usual sweetness and light today. But tomorrow's Saturday, and it might just stop raining long enough to get a good bike ride in. Things always seem better after a long ride.
Song o' the day: Grace Kelly* (link removed)
*The Killers' Mr. Brightside would have been more apropos for today, but I can't find the MP3. Grrr! Eh, I like this song better, anyway.
So, I got home from work today to discover that ALL of my pentas were droopy, including the ones that I planted last (in larger and better fertilized holes). I was both sad and embarrassed that my first attempt at flowerbeds was failing so miserably. I was also confused that it was just the pentas having a problem. I was told by someone at the Home Depot that these things were hardy, which is part of the reason I chose them in the first place.
Since they didn't look completely dead yet, I figured I'd give them one more day to take root before I cut my losses and replaced them with petunias or whatever. In expanding all of their holes and backfilling with potting soil, I was surprised at how DRY they were. I had watered right after planting, and after mulching. So I replanted, gave them all a good blast with the hose, and re-mulched around them. All before I even changed out of my work clothes. :)
Now, three hours later, I'm happy to report that 7 of the 8 pentas are standing perfectly upright and blooming again! The one that was droopy this morning is still looking a little rough, but I think it's also going to make a full recovery. Yay!
So, for my fellow black thumbs out there, a couple tips for planting flowers*:
If this flowerbed thing works out, I'm considering trying a container garden on the back porch. Or at least some tomatoes...I'm having trouble finding a good farmer's market around here, and I love me some fresh tomatoes.
In other news, my weight's been hovering around 202 this week. To say that I'm discouraged by this would be a massive understatement. I really need to just stay away from the scale until weigh-in morning, I think. Less stress for us all.
I also need to get around to posting about the new incentive plan that I'm using. I've decided not to call it a challenge, since I have a bad history with challenges, and I'm not really challenging myself to anything, besides. I'm just paying myself for weight loss, and once I have enough money saved to buy the drivetrain components for my new bike, the challenge is over. I've engineered the plan so that I'll have the money once I'm 30 lbs. lighter, which I'm hoping to hit by the end of this year. Or at least by next year's racing season.
But that's a whole 'nother post, one that I've been trying to write for days and days and can't quite work up the courage to put in writing. So let's just do a quick summary of the new not-challenge: basically, I'm just paying myself $25/lb to lose weight. This unusually-high payout is designed so I can build my new bike in a reasonable timeframe (like, before I'm eligible for the senior discount at Denny's). It also means that I'm only rewarding new losses, not the same 3 lbs over and over again like I did in the MS150 challenge. :) There are no other rules, really...I'm still trying to stay within my Sparkpeople calorie range, do 2 spin classes/week, at least one club ride, and I'm bringing workout clothes to the office with me so I can walk the track. I haven't actually made it onto the track at all yet, but I'm sure repaving the road to hell with my intentions. :) I've also got a book on my shelf that I've been trying to find time to review, which hopefully will fit nicely into my plan once I'm ready to add strength training back into the mix.
Right now, though, I'm just hoping that I won't have to subtract from my component fund this week. That scale number needs to drop below 200 again...quick, fast, and in a hurry.
*Anecdotal evidence based on two days' gardening experience, your mileage may vary. Probably will vary.
This weekend, I spent approximately 7 hours planting shrubs and flowers, and spreading mulch. It would have taken less time, but I kept having to go back to Home Depot for more mulch. And to the garden center for more flowers*. I vastly underestimated my mulching and flowering needs. Also underestimated--how freaking heavy bags of mulch are, and how exhausting crawling around and digging in the dirt can be. Every muscle below my waist hurts, and my shoulders aren't feeling so hot either...I stayed in bed for 2 hours longer than I had planned this morning, not because I was tired but because I didn't want to move.
On the bright side, I probably burned a bunch of calories, and my flowerbeds look lovely. Hopefully they will stay that way all summer, because I am so not looking forward to doing that again. :)
UPDATE: And one of my pentas is now looking decidedly droopy. I think I didn't put enough potting soil around him, and he's having trouble rooting directly into the native soil (read: clay). Actually--confession!--it didn't even occur to me until about halfway through the planting that I should put the potting soil around the plants as well as under them. So it's likely that this poor plant is only the first penta to die in my care (or lack thereof). Oh well...I'll do better with the next batch.
*pentas, vince something-or-others (look kind of like impatiens, but the leaves are bigger...I don't remember the name), and begonias.
yeah, hey...sorry. The holiday's change in routine, some looming project work and a sick kid have kept me away. I was totally going to put some music up last week, but then I slept till noon on Friday and it was really nice outside after that, so I ditched the blog in favor of enjoying the sunshine.
Anyway, a few things I've been meaning to talk about...
For instance, I'm considering an alternate start location so that I can ride with people I know, vs. people who technically work for (or are married to or friends with someone who works for) the same company but whom I have never really met. However, since I haven't heard any details on the ride-day logistics of my team, I don't know whether I can drop off my stuff with the team the day before or if I am required to make other arrangements to get my stuff to the tents if I am not there for the team start. So far, all questions I've emailed to the organizer have been either ignored or answered weeks later, so I'm not terribly keen on sending another one. I suppose I can ask at jersey pickup. Maybe there'll be a flyer.
Team anxiety aside, I'm getting kind of excited about the event. It's both my longest ride and my first multi-day tour. I need to send out a fund-raising email in the next couple weeks, but I already have enough donations that it will only take a few people to get me over the top. Physically, I'm not as light or as fit as I envisioned that I would be when I first started training, but I'm still way better off than I was then. I can totally do this...I just hope I'll have enough info beforehand to figure out a workable plan.
Luckily, I have the same model pedals on the commuter bike, so I can easily move them to the Pilot to see if a worn pedal is the problem. I only rode the commuter a couple times before it started in with the front wheel wobble, so the pedals are practically new. If that doesn't work, well, I've been wanting to try a different pedal system anyway.
Even though I could have used a bigger size, I do like the jersey. The cut is very curvy, which suits me well. Usually, I have trouble finding jerseys that don't ride up on my hips, and this one has enough room even in the large. The houndstooth pattern looks more computer-generated (pixellated?) up close than I expected, but from a distance of 2-3 feet it's cool. And that little pink skull on the pocket? Too cute!
So I'm torn on what to do with the jersey. It's a tighter fit than I'd like, but honestly? I still look pretty hot in it. If it weren't for the sleeves practically cutting off the circulation to my hands, it would be totally wearable. I'm tempted to just convert it to sleeveless, but I kind of like the pink 6s on the sleeves. So I think I'll just put it in the jersey drawer and try it again later this summer. When I've hopefully lost a pound or two. Or 10.
(*They have a sizing chart on that page now, but didn't at the time I ordered. That's some info I could have used...L=8-10? Are you kidding me with this, Twin Six?!)
Aaaand that's a whole other post, just waiting to be sorted out. Let's move on, for now. :)
So, that's what's been going on with me. What's up with you?
Also, when they replaced the standard stem with an oversized, they put on one that is 5mm shorter (I didn't even know there was such a thing as a 75mm stem...thought they all came in 10mm increments). I'm both thrilled and vexed by this. On the thrill side, my new bike's top tube will be 4mm longer, so this stem adjustment is going to give me nearly the same reach on the Orca as I used to have on the Pilot. With the narrower, shallower handlebar, it will actually feel a bit shorter. On the vex side, though, having the shorter stem makes it harder to determine whether my shoulder problems were related to width or reach. Not that it matters so long as they go away, but I just feel so unscientific, changing two things at once. :)
At any rate, he was treated and released, but he's still in a lot of pain...not supposed to drive or go to work for the rest of this week. The insurance is going to cover most of the cost of medical treatment, and we'll break even on the car--the settlement is just about equal to the balance of the car note. After I was sure Rob was going to be okay, that was the thing I was most worried about. We had a pretty huge loan on that car, since I was upside-down on the loan for the car before it and tacked on an extended warranty besides. Hooray for safe cars w/high resale value and good insurance!
Though the car wreck experience has been totally scary and stressful, it couldn't have happened at a better time. I was turning in my Camry this week anyway, which will be available to buy in about a week...just enough time for the insurance company to process the claim. We got more for the car from the insurance than we probably would have on a trade-in, so that's also good. And it's the time of year when we have the most cash on hand, so making a down payment on the new car won't be an issue. So basically, Rob gets a nicer car for the same price as he was paying for the old one. It's perfect!
Well, except for the part where he could have DIED.
*how's that for burying the lede? :P I thought starting with that one would be too dramatic, especially since I waited until the crisis had passed to even say anything about it at all.
I forgot to mention last week--Roomstore called on Friday to schedule another delivery. I scheduled it for today, and made it clear that it was vitally important that they CALL ME and give a delivery window, because I'm not going to be home all day. The girl said that she'd write it down, but I have zero confidence. If they don't call by 8:30, I'm calling them. I have no problem being the pain-in-the-ass customer. I've gotten a lot of practice at it lately.
I'm a little nervous about this delivery, since the last I heard was that they would not have the entertainment center in stock for 3 more weeks. I swear, if they bring back the same damaged one, I am so done with their asses.
In another furniture update, Bush furniture did ship me the right rails for my desk drawer...they arrived about 4 days after I notified them. So, they're off my List.
UPDATE: Spoke too soon--I just opened the package the rails came in. THEY'RE THE SAME ONES. I gave them a list of their own part numbers, and they sent me the wrong rails. Welp, back on the List they go.
Next...I've had bikes on the brain so much lately that I am now dreaming about them. I was at some kind of company Christmas party in this dream--white elephant gift exchange, huge hotel venue--except that my family was also there. And I was wearing an eyepatch...not sure what's up with that. Anyway, I was at this table with some people from work, and I started to get nervous about the time. Someone asked me why I kept checking my watch, and I said "I have to leave before it gets dark so I can get home."
Then, I look down, and my party dress is now bike clothes. Next thing I know, my dream self is plotting the route home in her head...and it's to my hometown. So apparently, my company's having Christmas things in Wisconsin, and I bike to them. One of the co-workers made a comment about how I was crazy, and I replied with something like "it's not crazy at all...it'll only take 6 hours." AND I MEANT IT.
So, yeah...step one--admit you have a problem. And looking forward to a 6-hour bike commute, in winter, even in a dream? I have a problem. :)
UPDATE: While I was composing this post, the Roomstore called. They're delivering between 9:00 & 9:30. Guess it's time to uncable the TV again!
I think I might be afflicted by a furniture curse, and I have evidence to back the claim. Let's begin with a dining room table.
Exhibit A: JCPenney, September 2005
About 18 months ago, I decided I wanted a dining room table. After searching in person and online for a couple months, I found one at JCPenney.com for the right price in the style I wanted. Only after I placed my order did they tell me it was backordered--for two months. Okay, I thought. I don't really need it until Thanksgiving, it'll give me a chance to finish decorating that room, whatever.
Almost 3 months later, during the 2nd week of December, I finally got a call from the delivery company that my table was ready to be delivered. Since they could not deliver on a Saturday, I took a day off work that next week and waited for the table to come. It arrived mid-morning, and the delivery guy immediately brought it in and set it upside-down on the floor. Then he asked me to sign the paperwork, without taking anything out of the boxes. At this trusting time in my life, I had no problem with that--I was grateful to finally get the thing, and excited about setting it up.
Everything went fine with the assembly, until I went to turn the table over. Imagine my dismay when there was a HUGE GOUGE out of the tabletop, corresponding exactly with the tear in the box that the delivery guy was very careful to cover up when he laid the box upside down. That rat bastard.
I immediately contacted JCPenney, beginning a unique sort of customer service hell that is the reason I will never buy so much as a t-shirt from them ever again. Because I was leaving for Wisconsin on the 23rd, I requested that they send me another one before that date. They replied that they couldn't do that, because the truck delivery company they use could not turn around that quickly. I asked about returning to a store. No, this item is not sold in ths physical stores, so I couldn't exchange it there. I would have to have another one delivered after I got back from my vacation. I agreed to this, until I got an email--let me pause right here and emphasize that they sent me this information by email--stating that in order to process my request, I would need to CALL and provide them with a method of payment for the replacement table, and then they would refund my money once they received the damaged one back at the warehouse.
AW, HELL NO.
I sent back an email--because, you know, that's how they contacted me with this completely outrageous demand for more money to fix a problem that was entirely their fault--stating that I was not going to pay them another dime, since I had waited for this thing for a month longer than they had promised, they were at fault, and they gave me no other options for the return. At this point, I was even still being nice about it. I gave them 3 options--1) they could send me another table at their expense in exchange for their damaged one, 2)they could send someone to pick up the damaged table and then send me a new one once they receive it, 3) they could pick up their busted-ass table and refund my money. (More nicely worded, of course.)
Reasonable, right? I heard NOTHING back. Crickets. I even checked the email for a disclaimer that it was an unmonitored mailbox--nothing to that effect anywhere in the message. After a month passed with no response from them, I resigned myself to living with the (huge, ugly, deep) scratch. I bought a wide table runner and got on with my life.
My only other contact with JCPenney on this or any other issue was when I got an automated email acknowledgement stating that the email I sent in January had been received and my issue was being addressed. When did I receive this email? JUNE. Has my issue been addressed? Not even remotely. That damaged table is still in my dining room, though I have changed runners since then.
Exhibit B: Walmart, Fall 2006
In the process of redoing the floors in our dining room and kitchen last summer, I decided that I wanted a different table in the kitchen as well. The one that was gracing the breakfast nook at that time was the same one I had brought from Wisconsin in 1998, bought at Pier 1 in 1995. It was outdated, it was cheap, the matching chairs were long gone, and it didn't match the new floors. Unfortunately, after sinking a good chunk of change into the reflooring project, there wasn't a whole lot left over for furniture. I figured that of our kitchen table problems, I could resolve 3 of the 4.
After looking at some-assembly-required table/chair sets at several stores, I finally settled on one at Wal-Mart. I got someone to help me load the last in-stock table and 4 chairs into the van, and I headed home. Pushing the 70-lb table box into the kitchen was a big sweaty ordeal, but I managed it on my own. Imagine my dismay when I discovered that the box contained only two table legs and no mounting hardware.
AW, HELL NO.
Fortunately, this story has a happy ending. Since I knew that the Wal-Mart I had bought the table from didn't have any more in stock, I went to the next nearest Wal-Mart. I went directly to the customer service counter and explained my situation. The lady there immediately understood what I wanted (just open another box and give me the missing parts, so that I don't have to cart the entire 70-lb table back here for an exchange), and got someone to do it for me. I got my legs and hardware within 10 minutes, the table assembled great, and I still shop at that Wal-Mart to this day.
Exhibit C: OfficeFurniture2Go.com/Bush Furniture, January 2007
At the new house, I use the 3rd bedroom as an office. In order to use this room as an office, I needed a desk. Since I had already bought a bunch of shit for the new house, I needed a cheap desk. After some online searching, I found one that I liked at OfficeFurniture2Go.com. I bought it, they shipped it, my shopping experience with them was absolutely wonderful.
However.
Two weeks later, when I finally got around to assembling the desk, I discovered a problem. After some confusion about how the hell the drawers went in, I discovered that instead of sending me two different sets of rails for the two drawers, they sent me two sets of the same rails.
AW, HELL NO.
I contacted Bush Furniture via online customer service, they're sending me my missing parts. I haven't received them yet, but I'm sure they're on their way.
This story is actually sort of boring. Let's see if I can make up for it in...
Exhibit D: Roomstore, January/February 2007
I think I've mentioned my much-beloved new TV, right? Well, one of the first things on my list of needs for the new house was an entertainment center to put it in. After a brief search and an agonizing decision process, I broke down and bought the only one in my price range that I really loved. When I ordered it in the first week of January, they let me know up front that it was backordered until mid-February. I bought a cheap Target TV stand and waited anxiously for my "real" furniture to arrive.
Late last week, I got a call from the Roomstore warehouse--my furniture was in! Well, almost in. The credenza was in Houston, but they would have to ship the hutch from their warehouse in San Antonio. Everything would be ready for delivery on Tuesday, but the earliest delivery time available was Thursday. I opted for Saturday instead, since I didn't want to take off work. The phone person said that the warehouse dispatch or someone would call Saturday morning and give me a delivery time window. Thanks were exchanged, done deal.
So, since I have my club ride on Saturday mornings, I asked Rob if he could come over and stay at the house in the morning, because they would be calling the house phone with the delivery window. He agreed, and arrived at 6:30 this morning to wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Finally, when they still hadn't called by 2:00 pm (Rob had stayed back at the house so I could get my car's oil changed), I called the store where I bought the thing. They gave me a phone number for the warehouse. I called the warehouse, where I was transferred a couple times and then told that my delivery window was 3:00-7:00 pm. Which meant that Rob had wasted an entire day at my house for want of one stupid fucking courtesy call.
I got home from the dealership at 3:15, Rob went home shortly thereafter. At around 6:40, I finally heard the truck pull up in the driveway. The drivers were not terribly (or at all, really) friendly, but they had the furniture and were prepared to bring it in. Yay! I unhooked the TV and all the receivers, set them aside, and moved the Target stand out of the way. They brought in the credenza first, and it looked heavenly. Furniture! Real furniture! I started threading cables through the cable holes.
Then they brought in the hutch. As I watched them take the bracing board off the bottom, I noticed a major defect in the staining on the right side. It looked like someone had brushed or scratched the finish while it was still wet, leaving a two-inch unstained line exposed.
IMAGINE MY DISMAY. IMAGINE IT.
I mentioned the damage, and they took the hutch back out to the truck. While they were out there, I looked over at the front of the credenza and noticed a chip out of one of the doors. Again, not delivery damages--manufacturer defect. So after waiting for a month and a half, then waiting all day for a call that never came, then waiting until the last 20 minutes of my 4-hour delivery window, the furniture arrived with both pieces damaged.
AW, HELL NO.
Long, still ongoing, story short: they took both pieces back to the warehouse, I called the warehouse who told me to call the store. I called the store, who promised me a callback within the hour. Eight minutes past the hour, I called back and talked to the exchange person, who said that she could process the exchange, but that all the stock they had was delivered. They wouldn't have any more in stock for at least 3 weeks. I unloaded on her every way in which their customer service had sucked for the past 24 hours, and I asked her what could be done about this. She was not authorized to do anything but process the exchange. I asked if I could cancel the order (and a little piece of my heart sighed wistfully). Yes, but she couldn't do it until the furniture got back to the warehouse, and it was still showing "en route". I asked what else they could do for me to make up for the horrible experience I was now having. I could talk to the store manager, who was not in today but would be tomorrow. Sigh.
By the time I hung up the phone, the rage was gone, and I had told her to continue processing the exchange just in case. I'm going to talk to the manager tomorrow, see what he offers me. At the very least, I'm going to get free delivery out of this. If I choose to wait another 3 weeks, I'm hoping for a significant discount for my trouble. If all else fails, I'll cancel the whole fucking thing and live with the Target TV stand.
So, what do you think? Is it a curse? Or maybe I should just suck it up and start shopping at real furniture stores. I may have to pay $3000 for an armoire, but at least it might arrive on time and intact.
Fuck.
I'd like to take a moment and apologize for every time I ever snickered at the sad little Texans who bust out the down jackets and mittens when the temperature dips below 40. Because, after almost 9 years here, I have become one of them. Also? Thirty degrees with Houston humidity is a totally different animal than 30-degree Wisconsin. You throw freezing rain and a nasty bit of wind in there, and I won't be leaving the house voluntarily for ANYTHING.
Unfortunately, work is mandatory. Noah's school was closed today, but my office, sadly, was not. So I bundled up, coffeed up, and shut myself into the car before I even opened the garage door. The roads actually weren't that bad and no one was being exceptionally stupid, so I made it to work in the usual amount of time. Since then, I've pretty much been fighting the urge to hibernate.
I really, REALLY need to get back into my working-out groove. I did make it to the Monday morning spin, but I think I'm going to have to start looking at other options. As much as I love the instructor, I don't love leaving the house at 4:40 am to get to the class. There's a 24-hour fitness location about 5 minutes from the house with 5:30 am classes, but I don't like their bikes OR their instructors as well as the Woodlands locations.
The cycling club has trainer classes on Tuesday/Thursday nights that I'm considering also...the last 6-week series focused on strength & endurance, this next 6 weeks are for speed. I wish I hadn't missed that first series--I really could have used some endurance/pacing tips. Still, the speed sessions can't hurt, right? These cost actual money, though, so I'm still waffling.
Even if it's not bike-related, I desperately need to get back into the gym regularly. The Monday morning workout was the first time I've set foot in the gym since...before Christmas? Is that even possible? I'm not so much worried about weight, because my eating has been pretty well under control. What I'm worried about, more than anything, is how easy it is to talk myself out of workouts lately. The longer I go, the easier it gets. And if it really takes 21 days to form a habit, I'm maybe a few days away from forming a bad one.
So, to that end, I'm planning a stop at the gym after work today. Even though it breaks my rule about no voluntary stops in this godforesaken weather, the gym is literally on the way home. Like, I pass within 10 feet of the driveway every single day. I think it's time to turn into the parking lot, for once.
Late to the game as usual, I finally gave in to this Tivo/DVR business everyone already has. Best. Invention. Ever. Seriously. I may never watch live TV again. LOVE IT.
Although, maybe after the T-W fiasco (did I tell you they sent me a bill for $199? After I canceled? That included charges for which I had already paid? On the bright side, the lady I talked to on my irate customer call was very sympathetic to my story, and assures me that I don't actually owe them any money. Of course, I didn't really need her assurances to know that I wasn't paying them another f'ing dime, but enough about that), I'm just delighted to have equipment that actually works. And the Dish Network stuff does work. Beautifully. Simply. Immediately. Every time, every channel. And the picture's better on the flat screen with dish, even on standard channels.
Now if AT&T would just activate my damned DSL (was supposed to be yesterday), they'll have a customer for life.
Other than that, things are coming together. Both cats are moved, and Jackson is nursing his moving trauma by throwing his weight around with Norman. Because he was there first, he thinks he's got dibs on all the good sleeping spots. I imagine Norman will win in the end, though, since he's got size going for him. Being an 18-lb. cat has its advantages that way.
I've stayed the last couple nights there, and mostly gotten used to the sounds around the house. The first night I was up till 3 am.. It was so quiet that every house-settling noise had me dialing 911 and checking the house for intruders, my finger hovering over the "talk" button. Finally, I found Armageddon on one of the movie channels and watched until I passed out. The past two nights have been better--Noah stayed with me, and it's easier to ignore the strange noises when there's another person around.
I haven't worked out at all since the move, and I do feel a little guilty about that. I meant to go to a spin class this morning, but I was exhausted by the time we got back from Walmart last night, and I just didn't feel up to a 4:30 wake-up call. I'm going to try to hit a 5:30 tomorrow morning, so this week will not be a total loss. Counting spin classes, I've got 117 miles planned for next week, so I need to get back into the groove.
Speaking of that, I was looking over the charity ride schedule for the months leading up to the MS150, trying to work out a tentative plan. I've signed up for the Frostbike 50 on 1/28, and then I'm riding solo long rides till March, when I'll pick up the charity Sundays again with the Continental Classic and the Bluebonnet Express. Then I want to do the century course for the Space Race this year, which is on 4/1. After that, I'm on my own again until the MS150. In the 14 weeks between now and then, I'm hoping to put about 1600 miles on the bike, which equates to around 100 hours in the saddle at my current speed. That's not counting the spin class miles, and I plan to do two of those per week. Hopefully, this will be enough training to make for a successful MS150.
Also helping this cause are the new wheels that Rob got me for Christmas. On my first ride after the shop put them on, I was a little disappointed, because I didn't really see much performance improvement in anything other than cornering, and I felt like I was riding through molasses for most of the ride. I chalked it up to wind and the fact that I had just come back from vacation. Checking the tire pressure before my beginner ride on Saturday, however, I discovered that my tires were at 40 psi. Yikes! I assumed the shop would fill the tires to 110, but they had probably just put enough air in to roll it out the door. Even allowing for some seepage, that first ride on Monday couldn't have been at more than 80 psi, which explains the whole "riding through molasses" thing. As you can probably imagine, the wheels were a totally different experience at the correct pressure. The cornering was still lovely, and I gained nearly a full mph's worth of speed w/the same level of effort. Fabulous. I can't wait to go out on a solo ride so I can play with them a bit more.
And finally, I was down a lb. on my home scale today. I'm hoping for another one by Friday.
So, life is good. Between finishing off the moving jobs, work, and getting back to the MS150 training schedule, it promises to be busy-busy-busy around here for a while. I'll try to get some songs up on Friday (I forgot last week), but I doubt you'll see much of me before then.
Jackson's fine. He ventured out of the laundry room yesterday morning, but then got freaked out by the satellite installers in the afternoon and hid for several hours. He must have found a new spot--we tore the house apart looking for him before we left, and never could find him. I was worried that he had gotten outside, but then as soon as I settled in on the couch for a few minutes, he appeared. He's walking normally, purring, eating, pooping. His little moving adventure doesn't seem to have done any permanent damage. Yay!
Now we just need to bring Norman over and get him acclimated. With this one, I think we'll use the carrier.
Whenever I move house, I always hire movers. I tried U-Haul a couple times, but with the gas cost, my relatively small amount of large stuff, and the trouble I have with driving large trucks, it's just a better deal all around to hire a couple guys who do this for a living. So, when I was going to move this time, I called my favorite neighborhood moving company and scheduled them to come at 11:00 yesterday. I figured this would be late enough that I wouldn't have to miss my club ride--I could finish riding by 10 and be home by 10:30, plenty of time to make the appointment. I could even shower!
They arrived at 10:20. Normally, arriving early would be a good thing, but in this case, it caused a bunch more stress than we bargained for...most notably for Jackson the cat.
Jackson is our most timid cat, and he has an attachment to me. If we have company when I'm not home, he hides under the bed, or the couch, or in the closet, or any number of other hidey-holes he's made for himself inside the furniture. When my mother-in-law cat-sits for us on vacation, she hardly ever sees Jackson before the 3rd or 4th day, and then only because the boy needs to eat. By the end of the week, he's usually grown accustomed enough to her that he'll come out and sit on the couch, maybe even let her pet him. So he adjusts to new people eventually, but mostly he's a big pussy. (Pun totally intended.)
Knowing that the strangeness of the movers and the chaos they brought with them would freak out all 5 cats, I had planned on crating Jackson and Norman (the two cats going with us) before the movers came. Since they came early, this did not happen, and we got a little more stress than we bargained for.
When the movers came, Jackson did what he always does--he hid under the bed. And what's the first thing the movers did? Moved the bed. So Jackson hid again, they uncovered him again, round and round and round she goes. By the time I got home at 10:45, only the sofas were left*, the cats were all freaked out, and there was no sign of Jackson. Since all the doors were open and chaos ruled, I didn't think much about the cats. They would fend for themselves, then show up when things calmed down again.
We got through the move and set up the furniture in the new house with no further incident. I was appalled at how dirty the sofa looked in the immaculate new house (sadly, I fear that it won't be that way for very much longer), particularly a palm-sized orange-brown stain at the center of the bottom edge that I didn't remember. I didn't worry about it much, though, because the fabric is Scotchguarded. I made a mental note to get some cheap rags and oxy-clean, then got on with my life.
While the movers were bringing in the bedroom furniture, Noah called. "Is Jackson with you? Because we can find all the other cats, but not him."
"No, he's not with me. He's probably hiding, or got out with the doors open. He'll come back when he thinks it's safe. He'll be fine, hon, don't worry."
And I wasn't worried yet, but I asked the movers all the same, "I hate to ask this, but when you moved the furniture, did you happen to see any cats jump out of it? Because we're missing one."
"A LOT of cats jumped out of stuff, ma'am." Great...I'm totally the crazy catlady story when they get back to the office.
"Okay, thanks."
About an hour later, I was back at Rob's house, and Jackson was still missing. Rob and Noah had already looked everywhere he could hide inside the house, so I checked all the nearby bushes outside. The more I searched, the more worried I got. With his claw covers and his natural cowardice, he wouldn't fare very well with the gangs of strays roaming the neighborhood. Rob asked a couple times if he could have gotten on the truck. No, I insisted that he couldn't have gotten on the truck, becausee the movers spent 10 minutes at my house cleaning and rearranging it, and surely they would have noticed a 12-lb black-and-white fraidycat.
Still worried, I walked the block a few more times calling Jackson's name, rechecked the closets and garage. Rob got in his car to drive the neighborhood looking for him. I decided this was the best we could do, and decided to make a run to Home Depot.
On the way to the store, that stain on the sofa came back to me, along with a terrible thought--what if I didn't notice it before because it's fresh? What if Jackson DID get on the truck, inside the sofa? Could that be a bloodstain, soaked through from the inside? I abandoned my trip to Home Depot and raced to the house.
I ran to the living room and sprawled on the floor next to the couch. I felt the stain--damp. SHIT! I started palpating the under-lining of the furniture, and there it was--a warm, heavy lump. Jackson! I started talking to him, begging him to say something, move, anything. I got nothing. I called Rob.
"Rob, you need to come over to the new house. I found Jackson inside the couch, I don't know if he's dead or alive, he's not making any noise and he's not moving. He may be alive but I don't know how bad he's hurt, there's a stain on the couch and ohmygodIcan'tbelieveIletthishappen!"
"Tell me how to get there."
This is one of the reasons I married the man. I just wish it had been enough.
While I waited, panicked, I tried to tear the lining off the bottom of the couch and get to Jack. It was surprisingly strong. I managed to tear a small hole, and I stuck my fingers in. I was able to touch him, and started stroking his fur and talking to him. He leaned his head into my hand. He was alive!
I pulled the couch out from the wall, and discovered that it was completely torn along the back side. I was able to see Jackson now, and he had moved to the other side of the couch. So he could move on his own, and I was relieved to see that he didn't have any gaping wounds. He looked back at me, silent. I called him to come out, and reached in to pet him some more and coax him out. He let me pet him, but I was afraid to drag him out in case he had broken bones or internal bleeding from being bounced around inside the moving truck.
I called Rob to let him know Jack was alive, then called the emergency vet. They gave me directions and pricing, and then Rob arrived. He was able to tear the lining some more and lift up the back of the couch so I could gently pull the cat out. We examined him and found no external injuries, Rob felt his legs, checked both ends for bleeding, palpated his belly and sides. All seemed fine. He was obviously terrified, and he had a muscle spasm going in his back leg, but he didn't seem to be in any pain.
We took him into the master closet and watched him walk, which he was able to do. When we opened the door and let him have a look around, he examined a couple rooms then took refuge under the exact middle of the bed. After discussing for a few minutes, we decided to wait for the vet till Monday--Rob made the excellent point that, shitty as it may sound, if he has massive internal injuries, he probably won't survive the night no matter what we do. Since he didn't seem to be in any pain, we can save the (exorbitant) emergency vet bill by waiting it out overnight. So Rob lifted the bed, and I went in and got the cat (poor guy...he was probably thinking the world was coming to an end--"all my hiding places are destroyed!"). We put him in the laundry room with food, water, a rug, and a litterbox, and left the house.
When I called the emergency vet back, I got a tech who found the whole situation hysterically funny (man, am I glad she didn't answer the phone the first time I called...then again, my tone was probably more relaxed this time), but who pretty much validated what we had already done. Her advice was that he was probably fine, but put him in a small space with everything he needs so that he can calm down.
Noah and I are going back there this morning, and I really hope Jackson's okay. Even though our cats have torn up our furniture (they did not always have claw covers), ruined our carpet, cost a small fortune in vet bills, and covered our clothes in hair, I kinda love the little guys.
(Oh, and the stain on the couch that led to Jackson's discovery? There's some debate about that around here. Rob checked it and thought Jackson vomited in the couch, and I agree. Noah, however, insists that it's an old marinara sauce stain--prompting a brief chat about TELLING ME WHEN HE SPILLS SOMETHING ON THE DAMNED COUCH. Either way, it was definitely not blood, and for that I'm thankful. Really, I'm grateful it was there in the first place, because I wouldn't have found Jackson nearly as quickly without it. Of course, Not grateful enough to leave it there--scrubbing it away is the first thing on my to-do list this afternoon. And then I'm going to get to work on the cushions.
*lest you think that I cleaned Rob out--we negotiated the division of the furniture. I did end up with most of the furniture we bought after we got married, mainly because he didn't like it much in the first place.
I've been quiet around here, haven't I? There's been a lot of life stuff going on lately, and I've had trouble figuring out the best way to put it all into words without coming off either too flip or too maudlin. I eventually settled for not saying anything at all, but now there is a bunch of stuff I want to write about here that I can't because it's related to the things I've been avoiding getting into here.
So, I'm just going to rip off the band-aid and be done with it.
Somewhere around the middle of last month, Rob and I decided to separate. We had been having problems for a few months, and got to the point where we were just making each other miserable. The thought of getting into a whole anatomy-of-the-marriage explanation makes me tired, so suffice it to say that no one is at fault in this, there was no major precipitating event or affair, we are just great friends that probably shouldn't have gotten married in the first place. We both really wanted it to work, but it just...didn't. And I don't want to live the next 30-50 years just going through the motions because we don't want to give up on Us. We both deserve better.
So, I looked around for apartments within the boy's school attendance zone, and discovered that there aren't any. After about a week of dealing with realtors and showings, I did find a house for rent within my price range that wasn't ugly, tiny, or 50 feet from an active railroad track. It's also closer to work, so yay! I've got the utilities turned on and the fancy new TV installed, but we don't move in for real until Saturday. Noah was a little upset at first (we waited till after Christmas to tell him, and then I totally botched it), but now he's sort of hard to read on the subject. He's glad he doesn't have to change schools, I think, but he's not really sure how it's all going to shake out. We've done a division of cats, with the two big boys going with us and the two girls and the youngest boy staying with Rob. Rob would rather not be left with three, but my landlord will only accept two. Anyone want a cat? He's very cute, I swear! Comes with claw covers and current shots. We'll even deliver. Anywhere within a 500 mile radius--I like to drive. :)
I also canceled my WW monthly pass. I haven't stayed for a meeting or counted points in over a month, and I can step on a scale at home for free. The day I weighed 198.2 at WW, I was 194.5 at home, so I've adjusted my pre-Christmas weigh-in accordingly.
So, it's been a time of big changes and small dramas. I did 60 miles of riding this weekend, but have made 0 spin classes. I can't find my Polar IR adapter, so I haven't been able to upload my stats and it's making me crazy to think of them piling up in the watch. Hopefully I'll find it again before it starts deleting workouts I haven't uploaded yet. I've also had some utilities issues with the new house, most notably with cable TV and the water management company. Hopefully, they'll get resolved by the move-in day, or Time-Warner is dead to me. The water company I choose to forgive, mainly because I like clean clothes and showers and they're the only gig in town for that sort of thing.
back from Wisconsin, probably a couple lbs. heavier. Good thing I lost a bunch last week, eh?
not much, that's what.
I got a response back from the guy who runs our company MS150 team, and after some confusion about whether or not I was registered for the ride, I managed to join the team. I still have very little idea what that entails, but hey--I'm a member!
And while I was searching for something else on the MS150 website, I came across their officially-sanctioned ms150 logo files, hidden under the group info section. In a classic example of not leaving well enough alone, I dutifully downloaded one of the gifs and replaced my existing sidebar button with it. Only then did I realize it had a white background, so I tried to photoshop it out of existence. All resulting gifs looked like crap, so I finally gave up and tried to put the original .png back. Even though it's exactly the same file as it was before, I get this weird border around the edge of the drop shadow now. After messing with it for about 5 minutes, I gave up and put the official white-backgrounded gif back. So now I have a white button instead of a nicely blended image, and you know why? Because I'm graphically incompetent, that's why. Grr.
I haven't been doing much riding this week either. This past weekend was so cold, we only lasted 8 miles on the Saturday ride, and I didn't commute on Friday. Sunday was rained out and I accidentally slept in Monday, so I've got a grand total of 18 miles this week. Woo! Go me!
On the bright side, I did discover that my bike fits nicely in my car's back seat, so I don't have to mess with the carrier anymore. I will need to mess with an old bedsheet to protect the upholstery, but that's a little thing. I'll be glad when I have a cargo-carrying vehicle again. At the rate I drive, that'll be about 4 more months. Just in time for the big ride!
In weight loss news, there really isn't any. I'm holding steady at 201-202, though my eating has been more controlled this week than it has been lately. I won't be able to weigh in tomorrow because we're going to have a consultant onsite. I could probably still go weigh in over my lunch hour, but I think I'll just wait till Friday again instead. Give myself one more day.
Thanksgiving went fine. I forgot to put starch in the apple pie, and the hashbrown casserole was a bit of a disappointment, but everything else was good. We have about 10 lbs of leftover turkey, but that's what I get for buying a 20-lb bird for 8 people. I mean, I bought it so we would have lots of leftovers, but I was really expecting guests to take some home with them. Rob's mom did, but we've been dining on leftovers for 3 days and are only about halfway through. Anyone know a good turkey soup recipe? Turkey casserole? Maybe we could work green bean casserole in there somewhere? Desperation is the mother of invention in cooking, too, right? (Or is that necessity?)
Anyway, I meant to get back here on Friday to post music, but never got around to it. I also didn't weigh in last week, since my meeting day is Thursday and I was busy with the turkey. Again, could have done it on Friday, but weigh in the day after Thanksgiving? You can't be serious. :) So I skipped a week. I'll be back on the scale this Thursday, right before the annual formal holiday party.
Speaking of which, I tried my dress on with the, erm, augmented bra from last year, and it fits fine. So, no alterations--yay! I also found some jewelry, shoes, and a purse. I'm a little uneasy about the shoes and purse, because they don't match the color of the dress. I tried to find wine-colored shoes, but didn't want to pay $100 for uncomfortable sandals that I would only wear for 3 hours anyway. So I bought black, to hell with the fashionistas. Who's gonna be looking at my feet anyway, right? (I do sort of wish I had bought a black dress now, though.)
And let's just not talk about the annual party picture. I'm going to look fatter this year. There's just no getting around it. All the fat-wrangling undergarments in the world wouldn't make me look 20 lbs thinner, and that's what it would take just to even it out between this year and last. Ah well, bygones. Hopefully, next year's picture will put them all to shame.
In bike news, I didn't make the 100-mile goal last week. Skipping the commute and a spin class reduced me to only 55 miles. This week should be better--I've already got 83 real-bike miles and one class under my belt, with two days left. Since the consensus on the poll I posted last week seems to be 10 miles/class, that means I only need 7 more miles to meet the 100-mile goal. Since I've got a class planned for Wednesday, looks like $10 more for the MS Society.
How much they get for weight loss still remains to be seen. I'm starting to get frustrated by my body's refuse-to-lose attitude. I have burned over 5000 calories in exercise over the past 4 days (per my HRM), and my weight was exactly the same on my home scale this morning as it was two weeks ago. I'm not eating the world over here...even with the turkey extravaganza, I wouldn't put my calorie intake average over 2500 per day. I've been guzzling water for two days. I mean, I'm glad that I didn't gain anything, but I'm sick to death of losing so slowly.
So, I'm taking a more intensive approach this week than I have been recently. Well, for the past two years, really. Today, I've tracked everything, and plan to continue through the next 3 weeks(I'd go longer, but that's running into the Christmas vacation, and I'd rather not deal with counting then). If my calories-in, calories-out don't start matching up*, I'm going to have to see about a doctor visit.
*With a reasonable margin for error, of course. I'm pretty sure my monitor is over-estimating calorie expenditure, and I have to take water retention and such into account as well. Still, if documented food - documented exercise = less than standard BMR, and I'm putting on weight, well...something's rotten in the state of Joy, is what I'm saying.
Things that contributed to my good mood today:
Happy Thanksgiving!
The dress for the formal holiday party came in the mail yesterday, and it's too big. The waist and skirt parts fit okay (maybe a little looser than I expected, but hey--more room for wine!), but the bust is a bit gappy, and the straps droop. Typically, this is both happy and sad. Happy, because a size 16 dress is too big. Sad, because it's not enough too big to exchange it for a 14. With only 2 weeks till the big event, I now have to figure out how this dress can be worn without excessive strap-and-gap adjustments.
Honestly, though, I saw this coming. I've never been able to fill out a normal-busted dress. I had hoped that the cup size I gained during the Pregnancy of Doom (like the 10 lbs it distributed elsewhere, the boobs seem to be here to stay) would be enough to fill out a 16, but the girls are apparently still lacking. I suppose this will be good once the rest of me is smaller, but it's an endless source of frustration at the moment. I'm going to try to remedy the situation with various bra trickery, but I suspect that the real solution is going to be alterations. Let's just hope I can get them done in time.
I tried to do this as a "real" bulleted list, but it totally hosed my template. Weird. I think it might have had something to do with putting part of it in the body and part in the extended entry, but I'm not so good with HTML. So, we go with low-tech bullets here.
**I had a personal training session today, and I hated every minute of it. These last couple sessions, she's been starting with my most hated type of movements--coordination exercises. Like, "hold yourself up and extend your right arm and left leg", or front lunge followed by side lunge, or squats with alternating torso twists. HATE. I am the least coordinated person on the planet, and these stupid things exercise my brain more than my muscles. I'm also getting frustrated that she hasn't taken any measurements since the end of my last set of sessions, even though she said she was going to on that Tuesday she canceled because she was sick. So I've been wearing my lightest clothes every freakin' session, and she doesn't mention it. She'll probably decide to do it on the day I come sporting sweatpants. I know I could just ask about the measurements, but dammit! I'm also irritated that I went through all the trouble of filling out those stupid food preference forms and she has done exactly nothing with them. AND her objective for the last few sessions seems to have been to irritate the crap out of me and then get the session over with as quickly as possible so she can go hang out with the other trainers.
Of course, it's also possible that I'm a little on edge today, and this may be affecting my interpretation of her motives. Mostly I'm just pissed because I weighed light this morning and skimped on breakfast in anticipation of the weights and measures, and now that effort's completely wasted.
**I've gone back to the Core plan for my weight-watching needs. Flex is obviously not doing the job for me--I'm going into my 10th week of meetings, and my cumulative loss during that time is 0.4 lbs. Not to mention, recording every blessed thing is a pain in the ass. So, we'll see if this is better. Oh, and I might start staying for meetings again. Even though I can barely stand them, I always seem to do better on weeks when I've stayed for the meeting.
**I desperately want to do this tour...badly enough that I'm half-tempted to put down my deposit now. The only thing stopping me is that I also really want to be pregnant by then. If I commit to the tour, then I have to avoid conceiving between now and, say, April, otherwise I'll be too pregnant to ride. Of course, it's not like we've had enormous luck with that endeavor, but it would be just my luck that I book the trip and then have to cancel due to baby belly. Though now that I think of it, maybe that's a good way to ensure that I'm pregnant by July--just rely on Murphy's Law as a conception strategy. Though we've already made several major purchases and still no baby, so maybe that strategy doesn't work all that well.
About the tour, though--that April timeframe coincides almost exactly with when I could afford to pay the balance of the tour cost anyway, so the sensible thing to do is just wait to book anything until then. Sigh. I hate waiting.
**Speaking of people who hate waiting...I had a guy on my club ride this weekend who absolutely would not stop at stop signs. I've never seen anything like it. I mean, I've seen cyclists run stop signs before, but usually they slow down and yield right-of-way to anyone who was there first. This guy--let's call him Flagrant Disregard Man (FDM)--it was like he thought stop signs were merely suggestions. Dude didn't even slow down at most of them.
I start out every ride with a brief safety speech--obey all traffic laws, signal turns, point/call out debris, etc. I do make a special comment about stop signs, because we roll through them if it's not a high traffic area and there are no cars. There are some places on the route where we'd be losing momentum every 100 yards if we didn't. The line I always use (borrowed from another ride leader, I think) is, "treat them like you would in your car." For me, this means that a rolling stop is permissible if you have the right-of-way. The sheriff's department disagrees with me, I'm sure, but I haven't hit anyone or gotten pulled over yet.
Anyway, I knew there was going to be trouble with FDM almost immediately. For one thing, he was faster than me. He was good at hanging back enough to ride with us, but keeping up was starting to be a challenge. I didn't realize his utter disdain for the big red octagon until after the first regroup stop. That's the place on our route after which the 4-way stops begin in earnest. He ran the first one without even slowing down. I was a little surprised, but I didn't press the issue because there was no one there. Then we got to the first high-traffic 4-way stop, and he barely slowed down at that one, too. Again, we had the right of way, so I wasn't too concerned.
When he cut off a left-turning minivan at the next one, I knew I had a problem on my hands. I stopped everyone else and waved the van through, mouthing "Sorry, sorry" as clearly as I could. Then we caught up with FDM, and this shit continued for the next several stop signs. Thankfully, most of them were car-free, so I decided to save my tactful correction for the next major intersection. I did have to pick up my pace to make sure I could keep an eye on him, though...I felt like I was chasing a hyperactive 2-year-old. At the next high-traffic 4-way, I broke out the stern Mom-voice. "We need to STOP!!! at this intersection, even if there's nothing coming. It's too busy."
To his credit, he called back, "You're the boss," and did make a complete stop. Unfortunately, that was the last one. I didn't know what to do. Dude was a menace, and he was just enough faster than me that I couldn't catch up enough to stop him before it was too late. Then by the time we got to the next rest stop, I didn't want to seem like a jerk by calling him out in front of everyone else.
The weirdest thing about it? I think he actually believed that he had the right of way, as long as the cars saw him. He made a comment later in the ride (as he was violating the right-of-way of a Lexus driver, who responded with an unpleasant hand gesture as I waved him through), to the effect that "see, if you wave at them to get their attention, they'll let you go through". Well, YEAH, but that doesn't mean they LIKE it, or that you're RIGHT. It's like "borrowing" your neighbor's lawnmower by walking over and stealing it out of his garage while he's sitting on the porch. The first couple times, he might nod and let it slide. After a while, though, he'll probably start locking his garage. And I wouldn't count on being invited to his next BBQ.
I mean, the guy was nice enough aside from that, but by the end of the ride I was beyond irritated. I doubt that he'll come back to this ride--he's too fast for it, really. If he does, though, I'm gonna have to have a come-to-Jesus with him beforehand if he's going to ride with us again. Drivers around here are pretty tolerant of bicycles when we ride courteously, but all it takes are a few cyclists like FDM to ruin it. There are already enough jerks who think we should get off the road...no need to reinforce that perception.
Noah's going to be a brother!
Unfortunately, not on this side of the family. His Wisconsin father's (let's call him...Joe) wife is pregnant. He called me about it this morning. They've been married for 10 years, and trying to conceive for about as long as we have (probably longer), so I want to be totally happy for them.
But, you know.
Other than the obvious (and very well-tread 'round here) trying-to-conceive jealousy, I haven't quite sorted out what my emotions are on it, really. I mean, I never really dated the guy, in the official sense. We were both in college at the time, and what we had was more of a hook-up than a relationship. He'd stop by every few weeks, we'd talk a little bit, things happened. This was what I thought I needed when I was 19--I had just come out of the same sucky relationship twice, and I was in a sort of "down with love" place emotionally. I thought a casual hook-up was just what I needed--no strings attached, right? And it did work okay for about 3 months, and then whoops! Baby drama. Lots of it, complete with yelling and denials worthy of a bad soap opera. Noah was two months old before Joe even acknowledged paternity, and that was after his mom found the child support papers hidden under his bed.
In the intervening years, our relationship has moved on to a more friendly place. Once he accepted that he was a father, he settled into a routine of occasional visits and the minimum child support required by law. Then I graduated, moved to Texas, and we maintained a sort of uneasy acquaintance until the first time Robert and I were going to get married. Without getting into too many details, his refusal to give up parental rights so that Rob could adopt Noah, and my reaction to his refusal, caused the end of the first engagement and the start a really bad (but mercifully short) episode in my life. It turned out for the best, and Rob and I got engaged again 2 years later, but there are still some hard feelings over the fatherhood issue. I don't talk to Joe much anymore, but he calls Noah every once in a while, sends presents on his birthday, and sees him every time we come to WI. Noah calls both Rob and him "Dad", depending on whom he's talking to at the time. It's not the ideal situation, but it's what we've got at the moment.
I really am happy for them. I am. But it's hard for me to keep from being just a little bit resentful. My pregnancy experience with Joe was fraught with drama and pain. Hers, I think, will be very different. As well it should be...they're a good match, since she's level-headed and responsible enough for both of them. I certainly never wanted to marry the guy, and she's stuck with him far longer than I thought she would. I guess they really do love each other, and hey--babies rule! It seems like Joe's growing up, finally, and maybe having a full-time kid will make him better with his part-time kid. Or maybe his full-time kid will make it easier for him to release his part-time kid to be adopted by his full-time dad. We'll just have to wait and see, I guess.
*Yet another Say Anything reference.
Late to the party as usual, I discovered the joys of podcast subscriptions this week. It started with a search for NPR Driveway Moments on iTunes, and ended with 5 new subscriptions: Driveway Moments, The Diner, This American Life, 60-Second Science (I'm sort of a geek, not sure if you could tell), and Grammar Girl (I am a geek-of-all-trades). These five subscriptions should ensure that each of my commutes is a learning experience.
So, in the spirit of Grammar Girl...
(pedantic grammar rant)
I got an email newsletter from an online retailer today. In this newsletter, there was a section for reviews, which was basically a bunch of quotes about their products from various websites or emails they had received. One of the quotes in the email stuck in my craw.
"I was very surprised at how well I looked in this top!"
Really? The top improved your vision?! That's amazing! Or do you mean your searching skills? That's even better--maybe if I buy one, I'll be able to find my keys! Here, let me grab my credit card!
This is the kind of grammar mistake that bugs me most--it's a classic over proper-ization. We have been drilled from elementary school onward that you don't do something good, you do it well. Sally is a good skiier/Sally skis well. Rob is a good typist/Rob types like a fucking maniac(i.e., well). Good is the adjective, well is the adverb. Simple enough. However, because of all these years of drilling, people think it's never okay to use good after a verb, even when it is grammatically correct.
So, why is well the wrong word for that quote? So glad you asked! It all comes down to clarity.
"I was very surprised at how well I looked in this top!"
I was never an English major, so I don't know enough technical grammar words to be able to get all "tense" this and "mood" that. Most of my grammar knowledge comes from reading a lot (a LOT), and a love of words. The best way I can think to describe this sentence is that it's sort of a backhanded construction. Instead of acting upon the object like a normal verb, the verb actually acts upon the subject (I think this might be passive or reflexive tense, but that doesn't really change the good/well issue, and I'm both too lazy and too far away from my grammar books to look it up)(Yes, I own grammar books.)(Many). Therefore, the well describes herself, not the quality of her looking. This makes the modifier an adjective, and therefore a good. Using well in this sentence probably made it seem more proper, but actually changed the meaning of the sentence. Reading it literally, the well modifies the looked. Putting the last part of the sentence into a more active example like the skiing and typing ones above, it would be "I looked well in this top/I was a good looker in this top." So, instead of looking hot on her, the top improved her vision and/or searching skills.
The possible exception to this would be if she were saying that the top made her look less sickly, in which case well would be totally fine. I'm not sure that would have made such a good review, though.
My peeve with this particular grammar mistake isn't that the writer makes it. I'll be the first to admit that I commit egregious crimes against good writing on a daily basis, mostly on this site. This mistake bugs me not because it's wrong, but because of the likely reason for doing it. People don't use well instead of good because it sounds better to them. They use it because it sounds more proper. They use it because decades of schooling and memorization say that well is the word you use after the verb if you want to sound smart. Because they're afraid that someone is going to jump all up in their shit because they used the common, trashy good instead of the more intellectual well. Whether the reasons are insecure or snobbish, it's hardly ever used because the author likes it better.
(/pedantic grammar rant)
UPDATE: In looking for sources to back me up, the rules I can find list sensory verbs (taste, smell, sound, feel, and yes--look) as the exception to the good/well rule. This one (scroll down to the blue "Good versus Well" section) also mentions linking verbs, but most stick strictly to the senses. So there you have it--my longer explanation, as usual, is just a bunch of needless words. :)
I sort of dropped off the face of the earth for a few days--sorry about that. I'm planning to have some music up after work today, to make up for the missed Friday. I spent the day making three trips to Walmart (three different Walmarts, actually), getting beat up by my trainer, and reading at Starbucks*. I had intended to clean all day in preparation for Noah's birthday party (which went well, though it felt like there were 18 kids in the house instead of just 5--oy), but it didn't quite work out that way. If not for Rob's last minute trip to the store Saturday morning for things like party favors and a cake, all would have been lost. If procrastination were a sport, I'd be an Olympian.
*The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay may be the best book I've ever read. It's certainly the best one I've read in a few years. Man.
During the delirium right before my ride-induced coma on Sunday, I asked Rob to bring my bike in from the car. Right before I fell into oblivion, he came in, outraged.
"Why do you have duct tape on your bike?"
"It keeps--"
"You can't have duct tape on your bike! With the 9 billion dollars we have spent on your cycling,"--He's as prone to exaggeration as I am...it's more like $2 billion, tops--"you cannot have duct tape hanging off your bike."
"It's not hanging off, it's more wrapped around."
"No. Duct. Tape. It's like a kid with tape on his glasses. Just get new glasses."
"So I should get a new bike?"
"No!"
I'm sure we would have continued in this vein, and in fact we may have, but I sort of lost consciousness.
So why do I have duct tape on my bike? Lemme 'splain.
About a year ago, I replaced my purloined (from Rob) black Cannondale saddle bag with a Timbuk2 pink saddle bag. This was mainly because the Cannondale was too small to hold my speed lever, but also because--pink!
In this year, I have been going through shorts at a dismaying rate. The Timbuk2 bag has a velcro strap that wraps around the seat post to secure it to the bike. This velcro strap has a hard edge which, if not positioned just so, eventually and painfully rubs a hole in every single pair of my cycling shorts. Since my preferred shorts go for $90/pair (though I only buy them on sale for $70 or less), this is bad.
After ruining a new pair in just two rides, I decided that I couldn't go on like this. Getting a new saddlebag would be the most obvious option, and was in fact the first thing I thought of. Upon shopping for a new one, though, I discovered two things: a) pink saddlebags are hard to find, and b) nearly all saddlebags, pink or otherwise, have a velcro seatpost closure. After a few days of considering, I decided on the #1 solution for do-it-yourselfers everywhere...
Duct tape.
I tore off two 4-inch strips and carefully covered the front of the offending velcro strap. About 100-120 miles later, I think I can safely say that this has done the trick. Except that it offends my husband.
Maybe electrical tape would be better?
I was perfectly, blissfully happy with my green Nano purchase, right up till the moment I saw this. Red! Curse my early-adopting ways!
Also, happy birthday to my son, who turns 12 today! Also to Sue, who turns, um, a year older. A lady shouldn't reveal such things, especially not about another lady. :)