Breaking records and gorgeous girls

I ran six miles today!
Well, I ran five-and-a-half miles and walked for about one. I had to take a 20 minute detour from the path because I needed to go to the bathroom.
Helpful hint: Do not eat a protein bar containing 11g of fiber before going on a run.
At least, I shouldn't. Just ten minutes into the run, I was in desperate need of the loo. Jon and I followed some signs to a bathroom only to have it locked. I was about to cry (seeing that we were a mile and a half from the start) when The Man found a cottage with the logo, "YMCA." Hallelujah! I was ready to beg, plead or kick some ass, if need be, to use their facilities. The place was open but no one was inside. I think it was where they held Summer Camp or something. Well, bless the upper class suburbia because the facilities were pretty nice. I left, still not seeing anyone, and we went back on course. The detour probably added an additional 1/2 mile to the course.
(If you haven't donated yet, the link is on the right of my blog or RIGHT HERE. It's a safe link and your money goes to a good cause. We all have had a relative suffer from heart disease or stroke. Just get your credit card out, follow the directions and donate $25! Admit it, you drop that much at Starbucks within a week. You can spare it!!!)
Six miles is a lot. Even for Jon. I've got a headache and he's a little dizzy so we're both laid out on the couch. But dammit, I ran six miles! Of course, since the prior four mile run was my longest distance, today breaks my personal record - thus far. Pretty fantastic considering ...
I was whoopin' it up at ASIA SF the night before!
I've gone dancing there before but have always wanted to catch the dinner and show. My friends and I booked reservations a month ago and finally went out last night. Sure enough, it's worth the hype! The food is excellent. And the gender illusionists are spectacular! They were so beautiful. Tiny figures with flat tummies and perfect fake chests. They didn't have the outrageous Las Vegas kind. Their boobs were definitely more voluptuous than the average Asian gal but it looked nice. Augmentation looks good when the person isn't greedy about it :)
I don't have any pictures yet but here are some samples from their website:

We had two waitresses (they are also the gals that later perform in the show.) One was an older Filipino woman/man as our waitress. She said her name is "Tita" but we could call her "Tits" for short. Well, all right.
The place is infamous for bachelorette parties which I know confuses some men. I myself can't explain it. There's something about being in a trendy place with good food and gorgeous performers (who are boys) gyrating up and down a catwalk that make the place so much fun. Of course, you heard every girl (with a vagina, I mean) in the place saying something like, "I wish I looked that good!" I was certainly one of them! As you can tell, I had a lot of admiration for the gals.
I noticed that the straight bartenders scored big time with the drunk girls so watch out for those charmers! It actually makes sense considering that most, if not all, of the straight men in attendance were brought by their girlfriends. The bartenders were feeling up on the bachelorette parties and licking whip cream from their cleavages. I'm telling you - these guys have the market cornered at this place! But enough about them. I went for the gender illusionists! The food and drinks, however, were just as lovely.
I downed three rum & diet cokes that night so I'm quite pleased that I was able to wake up at 6:30 am and run six miles. If it weren't for the headache, I'd feel pretty damn invincible.

Pound for pound

I have been a VERY BAD WW girl.
Sure, I drink at least 64 oz of water a day.
I exercise 3-4 times a week.
But I also eat anywhere from 30-50 points a day. Especially when I work out. I get so hungry! Terrible considering my allotment is 20 points per day. Even with the flex points (that's the 35 points we get as cushion for you non-WW peeps) I'm still doing miserably.
This isn't good. I know it's not good. I even skipped last week's WW meeting because I was embarassed. Maybe even ashamed?
I can't seem to get on track. I know I should eat more vegetables and fruits but I'm failing at that. Instead, I eat chocolate, carbs and the yummy-but-oh-so-bad-for-you stuff.
What's strange is I'm more comfortable in my skin than I was when I was in college. But not THIS skin. I gained 10 lbs when I was at my old job and I can't seem to shake them off! I would love to lose 15-20 but if I can lose 10 lbs I will be able to fit into my cute clothes again.
OK, enough of the pity party. I just had to put it out there because I feel like I'm not owning up to my badness.
I want to do better. I have to do better. I NEED to do better. Because even though I'm doing all this damn working out and drinking like a GD camel, I'm not losing any weight. And I'm pissed. And it's not good to be walking around in public pissed.

Old School Daddy, part II

Oh my gosh, my sister reminded me of ANOTHER story about our dad!
When I first started driving, I drove a 1989 GMC Jimmy and it always needed to be serviced. My parents, particularly my Mom, didn't trust me driving any of the "good" cars so I was only allowed to borrow my dad's beat up 1990 pick-up truck. This is the car my dad used to drive to work every day to and from Richmond. It logged a lot of miles and had many dings and dents. My mom figured I couldn't do much more damage than what had already been done.
Anyhow, during one of the times my car was getting serviced, I had to drive my dad's truck to school. No biggie, it got the job done. So, just like the many times before, I drove it to San Francisco when, on this one particular day, I had to hit the brakes really hard to avoid hitting a car that cut me off. Luckily Toyota makes good trucks with good brakes.
But imagine my surprise when this object shoots out between my legs and hits the gas and brake pedals.
It's a freakin' Machete!!!!! Or, if you're Filipino, a damn BOLO knife! I nearly had a heart attack. Yes, it was in it's holster but c'mon. If you aren't expecting something like that to whiz between your feet, it's a surprise! Sweet Mary, I remember yelling at my dad when I got home and he just chuckled.
He forgot he kept it under his seat in his car. See, during his younger days, he kept it there should someone ever punk him and he needed to protect himself. Plus, I'm not sure if he had a gun license.
Yes, seriously.
Think about it. The man worked in Richmond for over 20 years. It KIND of makes sense.
Oh Daddy.

Late, but he doesn't give a hoot.

My dad doesn't visit this here little blog. Heck, who am I kidding? He doesn't do the Internet. Just as well, probably. Plus, he's in the freakin' Philippines so we completely missed celebrating Father's Day together.
If you read carefully my blog a couple entries back (OK, so I've pretty much lost all seven people that bother to glance at this,) I said I would revisit the deal about my Dad vs. Neighborhood Stray Cats. While it may rile you up, keep in mind that my Dad is, in general, an awesome dude. Who is OLD SCHOOL.
My dad's garden is neat. He's not a landscaper so it's a hodge podge of greenery. But it's impressive - multiple rose bushes; rows and rows of orchids; hanging plants of which I don't know the names; an orange tree; lemon trees; apple trees; asian pear trees; callalillies; a persimmon tree; tomato plants; grapevines; eggplants; onions; summer squash; and on and on. Believe you me, it is a pain in the ass to water these plants when he goes on vacation. But that's beside the point. His garden is his pride and joy and he spends a lot of time making it flourish.
My dad hates the neighborhood cats. They poo and pee on his plants which, of course, either makes the plants sick or kills them. The cats also eat the eggs of the birds that decide to nest in the backyard. That really ticks off my dad. Whenever he sees cats getting comfortable in his yard, he goes after them with a waterhose. He also recently rediscovered his slingshot and shoots stones at the cats. Told you he's old school.
Before you get indignant, he never hits the cats. He hurls stones in their direction but never actually hits them. He just wants to scare the bajeezus out of them. And I think he likes shocking me more than anything. I had yelled in protest the first time he told me he used his slingshot on the cats. (Jon laughed.)
As we were leaving for the airport a few weeks ago, we walked through his garden. He wanted to remind me one last time,
"Don't forget to water my plants. Especially if it gets hot. OK?"
"OK," I replied. Then I noticed something. "Hey dad! You put mesh wiring over the soil of your rose bushes!"
"Yes. I'm tired of those damn cats pooping on my soil."
"But I thought you were using your slingshot on them." Me, of course, egging him on.
"I wish I could! Damn cats." Then he looked around. "But I don't want the neighbors seeing me and saying something."
Oh, Daddy.
He really does love animals. This is the same guy who dotes on my pups. He is the one that told me Piko was "... becoming a little lady" when he discovered she had started her period. He also yelled, "She's just a child!" when it looked like she was choking on a chew toy. He had ran to her and thumped her back while trying to pry the toy from her throat. My dad also holds Pili like a baby and whispers inaudible baby talk to her when he thinks no one is listening. He worries that they don't eat enough so he makes them chicken soup and rice, steak, and sometimes, fried rice. He also picks up my pups at noon every weekday so that they aren't alone for too long and puppysits until I pick them up after work.
Ask my nephew. Or if my puppies could talk, I'd tell you to ask Piko or Pili. Because they would all say he's a good Papa. Who's just a tiny bit protective of his garden.

Ooo-weee

This morning I ran four miles. FOUR!

This is a first for me. The most I've ever ran before is three miles. I think. I don't care much for running. That's a lie. I think running sucks. But I know it's good for me so I'm trying to get over the mind block. Thus the half-marathon. That and it's a good cause (donation link on the right side of the blog. I'm just sayin'.)

Scoff if you will but I'm proud of myself. I expected to do it in 1 hour and 20 minutes but I did it in 1 hour. I am so happy! I know I'm no gazelle but, for me, that is a GREAT time. Hot damn. (Now just 9 more miles to go!)

It almost, almost, makes up for the fact that I've gained back the 4 lbs I lost. But not quite. But I won't get into that because, when I think about it, it REALLY PISSES ME OFF.

On a completely different topic, I haven't put up a picture of the kids lately so here it is -

Stretch after squats

Or you'll be walking funny. And taking a lot of time to sit down. Something I learned from working out yesterday ... a little too late. Just thought I'd share the wisdom.
I had so much fun with Tel and Moberg! It was so nice to see Tel after all this time. Like boneheads, we talk more now that she's moved away than when she was here! But I'm glad we've been able to keep our friendship. It's been seven years!!
I have my car back now. While it's nothing to brag about it, my Pontiac Sunfire is a car that someone my age would drive. I'm happy to be reunited. (Although when I do retire, I'm sure I would feel safer behind an Oldsmobile. So never say never, right?)
No big plans this weekend. I'm training this Saturday for the marathon. (Haven't donated yet? There's a link on the right side of this blog!) And I have to garden because my dad is in the Philippines. He takes care of his garden and my garden because if he didn't, I would kill everything. Plants have a soft spot in my dad's heart. I won't even tell you what he wishes he could do to the stray cats that poop on his plants. I may save that for the next entry. Anyway, I wish I had his gift. But I don't. So simple things like watering, weeding and pruning do not excite me at all. I dread it as much as I dread cleaning the house. But even more so because there are BUGS.
Yesterday, Jon and I watered the plants (it takes two people and it still takes about an hour ... my dad has a ton of plants!) As I was unwinding the water hose, I came face to face with a yellow jacket nest.
Oh, SNAP.
"Hon!" I said. "Hon! Come here! Are they resting?!"
I could see the yellow jackets/ wasps (I am not ashamed to say I don't know the damn difference) resting on top of the little mound they built.
Imagine me, scared of bugs, and my one-handed boyfriend trying to spray the nest with bug spray (NOT my idea.) I wanted to stay the hell away but, of course, we will need to eventually use the hose so I guess Jon was right. But I had to hold the canister while he held the spray nozzle. I thought, "We are going to get stung. This is how dumb asses get stung."
Thankfully, we didn't. Jon soaked the heck out of the little nest and all the yellow jackets/ wasps fell and died.
This is huge reason why I don't like to garden. That and the getting dirty part. But mostly because of the bugs.

Ay. Ay! What's yo' name?

I am 28 years old. Sometimes I forget because I feel like I'm 25. I think it's because I was in school until I was 24. (I believe college keeps a person feeling young. Ask my ex. I digress.)
Today I realized that I'm a hop, skip and jump away from 30. And I don't think that's old - it's just that I won't be in my 20s anymore. It's weird.
So I was driving in a sketchy part of Oakland in my mom's Oldsmobile (my car is out of comission right now.) I'm stuck at a light when I hear,
"Ay. Ay! What's yo' name?"
Normally, this really turns me off. Seriously, what woman thinks, "Yes, yes. FINALLY. A man who knows how to court a woman" or "This guy would make a great baby's daddy." (OK, there may be some women who think this.)
I pause for a second, wondering what I should do. I don't normally like to converse with strangers who shout at me in my car while they are in their car but it's a light and we may be there for a while. So I decide to look over.
"My friend wants to talk to you!" says the passenger.
The driver leans over so I can see both the passenger and him.
They look like wee children.
I stare at the driver and ask, "How old are you?"
"15!"
Of course they are. "Guys, I'm 28 years old."
"Are you married?"
Not wanting to deal with the stupid line, 'Age ain't nothin' but a number', I say, "Yes."
"Oh." Pause. "You have a nice car!"
People, I was driving my mom's 1997 Oldsmobile Aurora. It is a tank.
"Thanks. It's kind of for old people. But thanks." I fight back to end with 'Sonny.' "Well, you guys have a nice day" and I make my right hand turn.
These boys were almost half my age. They could have been posterchildren for Clearasil. I'm not flattered. I'm not disgusted.
I'm almost 30.
So teenage boys, step off.

It's what you make of it

Today was a productive day. Jon-Jon and I cleaned house - he prepped the living room for me to vacuum (I didn't even ask him!) which basically meant he picked up all the chew toys any any other crap off the floor. I vacuumed the living room, going under sofa cushions, wall corners and ceilings. Then I cleaned both bathroom floors, toilets (ugh), and sinks. I also vacuumed the hallway, master and guest bedrooms. Jon swept and steam cleaned the kitchen floor (thanks be!) and most of the carpet in the house.
We were tired.
I also weighed in today. I expected it to be bad since I fell off the wagon but, man. I really need to make more of an effort to journal. I tricked myself when I tried to mentally remember what I ate. How stupid is that? I neglected to attend two of my last meetings because of Bay to Breakers and then I was out of town. But I could have tried harder to go to meetings on other days, you know? I think I'm done beating myself up. I'm back on the wagon and feel good about it. I have a strong support system with friends like Tel (thanks for pretty blog header!!!!) who swear they will help me out. I've got 17 lbs to shake off!
Oh, and I also joined a gym. That was a hard decision. I was spoiled before. I had worked at a non-profit that was attached to a gym so I had a free membership! Then, during this last year with the bad J-O-B, I made no time to work out and, while I still had one year of free membership at my old job, I didn't take advantage of it. I was tired, depressed and frustrated so I was pretty sure I shouldn't be around people, anyway. Well, now there are no more excuses. I went to my local 24 and signed up for a membership. I can't believe I pay to belong to a gym. But I do. The biggest reason why I felt I had to was because ...
I'm running a 1/2 marathon, remember?! I trained for the first time on Saturday. I ran about 2 miles and walked for 1 mile. It took me about 47 minutes to finish three miles. Jon ran with me for moral support. Oh. My. Gosh. I need to train daily. Well, truth be told, I hate treadmills. But I'm also scared to run outside around 5:30am. I would prefer to run on the the local college campus. But, and this is horrible, I still remember when I attended a while back and there was serial rapist who attacked women in the middle of the day while school was in session!!! That was nearly ten years ago but that still freaked me out. Much less running when barely anyone is on campus yet! And that spot is really the closest and best area for me to run. So with slim-to-none selections, I opted to join a gym.
In case you didn't know, I'm running for a cause. It's Train to End Stroke. One of the reasons I chose this cause is because I am a big advocate of the American Heart Association. And here's why you should make a donation:
1. They are smart with their donors' money. More than 75 cents of every dollar goes to research, education, and training. They also fund the BEST research. They have a panel of doctors and scientists that review all the proposals and only select what would best benefit the public.
2. They are the biggest (non-goverment) contributors to research. Even bigger than the American Cancer Society. It must be because they are pretty good about their overhead being less than 25% of their budget. I'm just sayin'.
3. We ALL know at least one person we are close to that has been affected by stroke or heart disease. And if you do not, you are exceptional and very, very fortunate. Think of all the things that your donation could help discover to make our parents, friends and even ourselves live longer and healthier lives.
Please make a donation. Any little bit helps! THIS IS A SECURE LINK and it's super easy to pay by credit card. Seriously, anything you can give is greatly appreciated. Trust me, I promise it's for a good cause. Think about giving and help save lives. And here's another link if you missed the first one ;)
Or just cut and paste it!
https://www.kintera.org/faf/donorReg/donorPledge.asp?ievent=231134&lis=1&kntae231134=E7345D14234A426AB3CD73E26F7AF460&supId=174574576
OK, I'm done asking. For now!

Jon's hand - may not be suitable for kids. I'm just guessing.

Since he broke it AGAIN, I'm a little less grossed out by it so I figured I'd share some pictures. He was told to make an OK sign with his hand in the first X-ray. The various X-rays show different angles of his hand, the two metal plates (one broken) and the screws that are holding them in place. His doctor doesn't know how he did it but if you look closely, the plate snapped in half. It's a METAL plate, for crap's sake! So, although I think my boyfriend is awfully strong and manly, I think it was a faulty plate.

I know that this is a minor surgery in comparison to what other people go through but doesn't that seem like a lot of screws??

See that sharp part of the plate jutting out? We think that's why the swelling didn't go down. Ick.

Anyhow, Jon's hand is still wrapped so I don't have the latest picture but I'm pretty sure it looks quite similar to this picture. This is a picture of what his hand looked like the first time he broke it.

I wouldn't let him near me because it gave me the heebeegeebies. He looked like Frankenstein. It was also very puffy. In fact, when the staples were taken out, his hand kind of looked like a baseball- round with stitch marks.

I feel bad for him. This sucks. He's not allowed to use it for three months and the Vicodin makes him dizzy. But, thankfully, he is able to still work.

I can't help notice, though, the joy he tries to surpress when he tells me he cannot take out the trash, help clean the kitchen or mop the floors - all of his chores. That is when I really hate that his hand is broken. Again. And out of commission for another three months.

But hey, this is about him! And how this sucks for him! And how I need to be supportive because it's no picnic in the park for him! Of course, it's no picnic for me, either. A lot more like sand in the panties - pretty annoying and incredibly uncomfortable. Oh, well. That's what love is all about. Not the sand piece but the supportive part.

Randomness

Okay, I hardly ever get tagged for chain whatchamahoos, and then today I got tagged by a stranger (yet fellow knitty head) named V. Here goes -

The rules: Each person tagged gives 7 random facts about themselves. Those who are tagged need to write on their own blog their own 7 random facts as well as the rules of the game. You need to tag seven other people and list their names on your blog. Then you leave those you plan on tagging a note in their comments so they know that they have been tagged and to read your blog.

7 Random Facts:
1. I can talk about vaginas and penises all day long but will easily vomit if the topic is about poo. I have my limits. Poo is my limit.
2. I'm bad about keeping in touch or just keeping friends, in general. It's horrible. I'm not good about staying in contact with a person if he/she isn't good about it, as well. I have a low tolerance for crap, to boot. No wonder I'm friendly, I have to constantly replenish!
3. My favorite flower used to be a sterling silver (lavender colored) rose. It was the flower I picked for my prom corsage and I loved it so much. But then I gained an appreciation and affection for cymbidium orchids. My dad grows them in almost every color available and I think they are beautiful.
4. I've been a size 2. I've also been a size 9. For a bridesmaid dress, I think I've been a size 12. But those sizes are just jacked up, in general.
5. I hated my hair when it was short. I chopped it off after my high school graduation. I got my heart broken and made the brillian decision to hack off my hair. I guess it was freeing. It was also ass ugly. I looked like a mushroom top (my hair has a lot of volume.) Or a UFO.
6. The prettiest I ever felt - that I can remember - was during my graduation for my M.A. program. I was just so happy to be done and I think it really showed in my pictures. I wasn't even my thinnest! But I liked almost all the photographs from that day. I guess true joy (and relief) can really show through.
7. I'm better at Power Yoga than I am in Hula. I wish it was reversed. It's just more impressive to be able to dance a hula rather than do a headstand. Except after 10 cocktails. Then I think it's a draw.

My advanced apologies to the following individuals (who will hopefully stay friends with me considering my #2 fact) -
Demondoll
Pookiepie
Couch Potato
She is Kim
Two Lips
Tel
Lola
I swear, it's not that painful and it's kind of fun. Really.

As promised, Bay to Breakers pics (not kid friendly)

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Itty Bits and the many To Do lists

I'm picking up my parents at the airport tonight from their trip to the Philippines. I miss traveling. I want to go to P.I. Or Hawaii. Or somewhere I haven't been before - Alaska, Australia, New Zealand or China. All on my traveler's To Do list.

I'm walking (not running!) the Bay to Breakers this morning! If you don't know, it's a big To Do in the San Francisco Bay Area. As someone born and raised, I feel compelled to take this off my local To Do list.

I'm also doing it for the naked people. I'm intrigued by people who are willing to literally be balls out. Which is exactly why Jon is NOT doing it. That's OK. I'm going with my friend Marisa and she is bringing a camera. She is obviously in it for the nakeD people, too. Keep in mind that we both are aware of the fact that it is never the HoT people who run naked. Thus it's appeal.

Sister has a HUGE PART in a production which opened this weekend. I wish I could visit her and start a standing ovation for her. So if you haven't already, visit her blog and give her LOVE and support!

WW Sistas, I fear that I'm falling off the wagon. Please tell me how silly and what a waste of money that would be. (What I'm doing is, while I'm still counting points, I'm letting myself far exceed my daily/weekly allotment. Bad, bad, bad! I know it's because I know I'm missing this week's meeting due to the race. Help!

I promise to post pictures of the interesting people I see today. I don't know about the naked ones. I have to learn how to fuzz out the private parts in Photoshop.

PISSED

Yes, I am. And you?
Well, I'm drinking a glass of wine to take the edge off but I am still PISSED.
This asshole cop gave me a ticket today. He and his bud were busting people who changed from a right turn lane and crossed over a solid white lane.
Yes, I committed a traffic violation. So why was he an a-hole?
Sure, he was doing his job. But there is a difference betweeen just doing your job and being freakin' HAPPY, full of glee and having a GD gleam in your eye because your ticketing someone. Someone who hasn't had a blemish on her record for over seven years if you bothered to even look it up, you ASSHOLE.
I'm going to pour another glass of wine. Or three.

The house of special dogs and my shows

Poor things, they are one step away from a soft helmet. The reason why Pili has to wear the horrible collar, too, is so she doesn't lick Piko's scar. And, like a good mom, I dope up Piko AND Pili so she doesn't play too rough. Controversial, but you're not the one who woke up at 1:00 am this morning to growling and whimpering. Plus, it's only a teeny tiny sedative!

I have way too much buy in with American Idol. I was devestated when Melinda was sent home. Then, the next day, three different radio stations played the audio of when she got the boot and I got all riled up again. I've got to learn to distance myself. I have adored her since the beginning. Here's a girl who has simple looks, modest, and very talented. I would go to the AI concert but I think I would throw things at Hotpants Haley.

The Office makes me laugh and my heart hurt. All the characters are great (Jon thinks Dwight is awesome and, after he pepper sprayed Roy and then revealed his nunchucks and ninja stars, I think he loves Dwight now.) Michael reminds me of a boss I used to have so every time he does something uncomfortable, I have to hide behind Jon because it's too painful to watch! But the love story between Jim and Pam! I didn't realize that they've been stretching it out for three years now. But it's so sweet. And I remember having crushes way back when and it being that awkward and frustrating. But at least they make it funny. I absolutely love this show.

Grey's Anatomy is making a comeback! Burke ended up being the runaway bride - I did NOT see that coming! I'm still turned off by the whole Izzy/George crap storyline and Meredith and Derrick will be forever tortured but hallelujah for the show getting back on track!

Thursdays are fantastic TV nights. Jon teases me all the time and asks me if I'm ready to "Feel Thursdays" (what a dumb tag line.) But he makes us watch 24 and The Unit so I need some chick shows. It may seem like we watch a lot of TV. We kind of do. Well, during the work week and then make up for it on the weekends. Because the dogs would turn on us if we didn't.

Little bits

I came back from my work orientation totally loving the organization. I am so gung-ho that I bought paraphernalia! Can you believe I'm actually representin'? Hehehe.

Piko is going to the vet tomorrow. Wish her luck! This will be MY third attempt in trying to get HER fixed. Sheesh. Update - just dropped off Piko at the vet hospital and they told me that this doctor, a different doctor from the other attempts, prefers to keep his patients over night! My little girl has to stay there overnight! Poor Piko.

And poor Pili. She doesn't do well being seperated from Piko (we got Pili just for her, remember?) All Pili knows is to be with Piko, no matter what. Last time Piko was supposed to get fixed, my parents were able to keep her company and they said she kept pacing, looking for her sister. When my dad left the room to go upstairs, Pili went ape shit. She scaled a baby gate (which she has never done before and hasn't done after) and ran upstairs to find my dad. We think that she thought her dog pack was disappearing so she freaked out. Anyway, she will be all by her lonesome because my parents aren't here to take care of her. Well, in light of Piko being gone for the whole day and now overnight, I've decided to slip Pili a traquilizer pill. She's going to need it today!

Jon's hand is still swollen but he's back to work with the stipulation that he cannot be a working foreman (he'll do very little labor and work mainly on logistics and supervision. I think. Well, it looked good, didn't it?)

Tel is making me a new masthead! I think she feels sorry for my lack of technological creativity, bless her heart. I'm looking forward to her pimpin' my ride blog.

I've lost a total of 3.2 lbs since I've made my "lifestyle" change. "Lifestyle" my foot - it's a freakin' diet. It's a forever diet but it's a diet.

Little things make me happy.

Not too bad!

Sooooo, I had the option to share a room OR have my own but I would have to pay the difference. Maybe it's the poor in me but I didn't want to pay out of my pocket for accomodations to attend a work function.

My colleague/ roommate and I were pleasantly surprised with this room:

We could do cartwheels in our room, it's so big! We also have our own bathrooms. OUR OWN BATHROOMS! We also have a receiving area and fluffy bathrobes.

I'm so happy with our accomodations. It is suh-weeet. And confirms my belief that it's OK to think poor. In fact, it pays off!

What is also a bonus is that it's not as hot in LA as I thought it would be. We are stuck in a conference room most of the time but my company encourages healthy living therefore "healthy activities" so we had Walk and Talk discussions and they encouraged us to walk around the block a couple of times and discuss what we just learned. It was nice to be able to enjoy a little bit of sun.

What's odd is that the part of LA we are in (and don't even ask me what part because I don't know, I just know we are staying at the Wilshire Grand) seems to close at 7:00 pm. For real. We went to Macy's and Express tonight at 7:20 pm and they were both closed. What the heck?!

Oh, and my WW sistas, I'm doing BADLY. I've had pasta, souffle and all sorts of unhealthy stuff :( I've got to get back on the wagon!!

Updates

I finished my second week of Weight Watchers and I've lost a total of 2.9 lbs so far, including the .2 from last week ;) Sweet Mary, thank goodness it's working. I really hope it keeps coming off. I've got 17.1 more to go! Now I need to get a handle on a regular work-out routine.

It's hot. And tomorrow I'm leaving for somewhere hotter. I'm going to LA for a training. Where it's HELLA hot. I normally don't mind (much) when it's hot. I do mind when I have to wear work clothes and closed-toe shoes. Ick. But I like a change of scenery so I'm actually looking forward to it. Well, except for the part of waking up tomorrow at 3:00 am and taking a 6:00 pm flight. That sucks. But the next three days should be fun! I love to learn and meet new people. Plus it should be cooler when I go back home.

Go Melinda Doolittle!

Boo to Grey's Anatomy.

That's all for now.

All you princesses will appreciate this story

I love spa treatments. Obviously.
Earlier this week, after a meeting, I talked with a new colleague, letting her know that I used to work and play on the Peninsula even though I live in the East Bay. But now that I work where I live, I want to embrace my new playground. This means spas and salons. Nail, that is. I refuse to leave my hair stylist - we have eight years together.
Anyhow, my coworker said there was a spa she and her boyfriend tried in Fremont and she liked it. She warned me that it isn't as pretty as Burke Williams but she really liked her massage. Well, pretty is as pretty does. I only like BW because of it's environment but none of the massages I've received from there were very good. She assured me that she and her boyfriend really liked their massages. But ... the layout is a little odd.
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"Well, they have a Chinese buffet in the lobby." She replied.
"What?!"
"Umm, and they also take numbers in the lobby. Like a supermarket."
I told her she just had to take me there. I wanted to see it for myself.
So we immediately drove to a Perfect Day Spa. (Check out the link for pictures. I don't think there are any of the buffet.)
The place had hard wood floors and was spacious. And yes, there was chinese food in the front lobby. And a red number dispenser prominently placed where the receptionists sat. They gave us a tour and it was nice enough. They even had a special - $48 for your first treatment.
Lots of thoughts were running through my head. But my colleague swore that she got a good massage. And, as someone who has frequently visited a third world country, I've learned to be open minded about things that are not typically American. And I could TOTALLY tell this one was ran by Asians. (I'm Asian, I can write that. Plus, I really could tell.)
So I signed up for a hot stone massage. Heck, I can spare $48 to check this place out.
Some things I found out:
- They make you take off your shoes when you leave the lobby and go into massage area
- While I had a blanket covering me, the bed was lined by tissue. Like a medical office.
- Hot stone massage to them meant they placed stones on my body and massaged around them.
- Curtains as walls just aren't the same
- I can hear EVERYTHING
There were some positives. My lady was pretty good. She made sure she got the right pressure so she wouldn't hurt me. And the place was clean.
But I can't get past the "cutting corners." Tissue-lined massage tables, curtain walls to maximize space and the on-the-side business of selling Chinese food.
If you're intrigued, you can read these reviews.
I visited Skin Fitness Day Spa in Fremont for a pedicure but, again, little things make all the difference. I received a nice pedicure but it wasn't in a massage chair. And where the hell was the head rest? I'm not sure if I'm brave enough to try their massage at $135 a pop. (Armi, do you strongly recommend this place? If so, which masseuse?)
I am still on the search for a fantastic East Bay spa. Sigh.

Odds and ends

I weighed in for the second time. I expected worse.
I'm down .2 lbs. Note: the point is BEFORE the two.
I wish it were more but I'll take what I can get.
Work is good. I've been busy but it's good busy.
I'm doing Power Yoga and have definitely walked around more than at my last job but I also know I can do more.
I'm signing up for the half marathon tomorrow so now there are no excuses.
Jon isn't excited about training with me but I think he's going to come for moral support. Well, he needs a little more convincing.
Piko is set to be spayed in two weeks. This will be our third try. She goes into heat in June so we've got a time line.
And I'm not down for dealing with her four weeks of period again so they best get it right this time.

I woke up at 5:30 am to go to yoga!

I then texted my friend and told her I was going back to bed.
I slept for probably 15 minutes and played out a whole argument in my head.
"C'mon fat ass! You complain you can't fit into your clothes and you won't even get up to go to yoga? What good is Weight Watchers if you don't exercise? Stop being lazy!" My other side can be mean.
"I just want to sleep!"
"Get up. Just GET UP!"
At 6:15 am, I felt too guilty to go back to sleep so I got out of bed and went to yoga.
Whooohooo!
I love Power Yoga. Specifically, the way this certain instructor teaches it. She's brilliant (she graduated from Stanford) and is some sort of engineer. So she's not very friendly. But I think that's part of the reason why I adore her. She means business. She pushes me way beyond what I think I can do. She doesn't talk much so when she does, it means something. When I took my last job, I was very sad that I couldn't take her class anymore. But now with my shiny, brand new spankin' job, I'm able to take her class again. Hurray!
Right?
She told us this morning that she gave her two week notice.
Son. Of. A. Bitch.