Empty

It's been an interesting day... aside from falling down a half-flight of stairs, having the washing machine in the laundry room not quite work, among other things... I got the mail today and received an unsealed, open, EMPTY envelope addressed to me from Olga's Kitchen.

I give up. I was going to email them back, but really, what's the point anymore?

Ugly, Mean Snow

For quite some time, I had been looking forward to the arrival of some snow. And we got some, large, fluffy flakes that stick to your eyelashes and tickle your cheeks--that was the snow I'd been waiting for, enjoyed... sent my cat, Calvin into spastic fits as he jumped around on the balcony catching the snowflakes in his mouth. Snow like that means it's a little cold, but warm enough to still be outside, frolicking, as it were, in the bliss of winter.

But, as is generally the case, the blissfulness doesn't last. Today, the fluffy white snow is gone, replaced by piercing white bullets of winter hell. The temperature is deceptively colder than it really is; it is really closer to -8 cloaked in the armour of 18 degrees (that's Fahrenheit for my non-USA friends, and those of you who happen to be looking for fairy snow queen porn, but stumble upon this entry instead). This is the kind of snow that doesn't gently glide down the winter air, but rather slams itself at a diagonally into the ground--what I call mean, ugly snow.

Indeed I should take a cue from Calvin and the other kitties and curl up in a blanket and take a nap. I may not purr, at least not as loudly as they do, but it seems like a fabulous idea--if I can finagle a blanket from one of them. Easier said than accomplished!

A Cat's Life

It's a relatively quiet Sunday morning... I had a large breakfast and was talking to my mom on the phone, drinking my coffee when I see Calvin strolling over to lie down in the lid to an Adidas boot box. (For those unaquainted with cats, shoe boxes and their lids are IDEAL places of slumber, fortunately, there is never really a shortage of these in my place.) Suddenly, out of nowhere Vinnie-kitty walks up behind Calvin and bites him on the ass. It is a rather strange thing to witness generally speaking. Even more peculiar is that Vinnie is the most timid of all the cats and Calvin is the elder, and while not Alpha in stature, definately in demeanor. So, as you can well imagine, this began a little fight between Calvin and Vinnie in which Calvin turned around and followed Vinnie back to from where is had come and slapped him in the head a few times. Probably deserved for a bite on the ass. All apparently has been put back in order, and seemlingly forgotten (if possibly not forgiven), as they make their way into the first of many hours of slumber.

Briefly, Olgas

Yesterday afternoon, I did receive a response from Olga's Kitchen... they, in fact, will not make a donation to the Breast Cancer Walk and offered up the cash card again (suggesting that if I don't use it for personal consumption, I could use it as part of my fundraising efforts--which I had thought of, but had hoped they would just donate directly). So I will accept it and hopefully parlay it into something good for a better cause... it's disappointing, really, on one level. The response I got pointed out to me that Olga's is a giver of the community and listed off the many charities that they do support. Not that I don't think it is terrific, and I think, generally, businesses need to be accountable to the community by supporting various charities and philanthropic endeavors. On the other hand, what the message I got essentially said is that this is a cheaper solution for us. Indeed it is. The bottom line is that good still can come from something negative with the right spin.

Super Scratchers

Lately, I've been dealing with some profoundly bored kitties. It is too cold for them to spend any significant time on the balcony--indeed Calvin will only go out when there are big flakes he can jump up to catch in his mouth. Apparently, though their fur is quite weighty, it is not nearly warm enough. It's funny, because at 5 a.m. when Jake is sleeping on my head, because I am obviously using too much of my own pillow, I find the fur not only warm, but suffocating.

Regardless of my basal ignorances, I decided today to pick up a new "toy" for the furry ones. Apparently, I am willing to pay $10 for a what amounts to some shredded cardboard boxes crammed inside another box that comes with catnip and provides ample scratching opportunities ... apparently, it also provides many opportunities for kitties to start fights with each other and is quite a treat to lick incessantly. Bowie has also decided he will take his treats on the toy as he perched on the toy and waited for his service. Upset that I am stupid enough to just put them on the floor next to the box and not on it, he still managed to eat them while sitting on the box.

I really would like it if I could get the cats to stop licking everything. Bowie spent 10 minutes licking condensation off the bedroom window this morning while I was trying to sleep. And it was loud. You might be tempted to point out at this point that if I turned the heat down, the windows would not steam as much--you would think that, but you would be wrong.

Olga's Update

As you may, or may not, have noticed, the Director of Marketing left a comment on the treatment I received at the Ann Arbor Olga's Kitchen. He offered up a nice apology and a cash card... I responded with an email indicating that I would consider revisiting Olga's at another location, but I did not want the cash card--as nice an offer as that was, I would prefer that Olga's, instead of paying for my next lunch, that they make a donation to the Avon Foundation Breast Cancer walk I'm participating in. It's been a few days, I'm still waiting on their response.

SK commented she wasn't aware that it was now the responsibility of a Marketing Director to troll blogs for bad publicity, but in thinking about how much traffic my lil space here generates, I can imagine how blogging may have impacted the role that companies take with respect to checking with a quick blog search from time to time. The internet certainly has offered up some challenges... which reminds me... I should check in with the Grand Traverse Pie Guy and the status of the "Board" revisiting the God Sandwich...

Slumber-Challenged

Nearly 24 hours in a row up; and only a few hours before that... I was starting to fall asleep on the plane, but they finally got us to the gate. Foolishly, I thought when I got home, took the long, hot shower I'd been craving since boarding the flight in Philly, I'd be able to stretch out and fall deftly asleep until sometime in the morning when the cats woke me in their panic of starvation. But not the case. I'm wide awake with a purring Calvin looking at me in complete drowsy bafflement as to why we are not sleeping. He, however, being a cat, has essetially said screw you, I need my 18 hours... and essentially is drifting off already.

If nothing else, this sleeplessness has at least produced several pages of writing--perhaps not my usual brilliant faire, but it's getting to something. Amazingly, I got 2 pages on the plane tonight via Word and earlier today, one via paper. I hadn't written pen to paper in so long, it was a strange beast. I've been reading "Writing Down the Bones" and I keep thinking how dated it is talking about writing in a note book. Today's notebook is a Dell...

Time to shut down the brain, or at least attempt... and that means shutting down the "notebook"

Hill's In?

So, it seems that Hillary Clinton has finally annouced she's considering a run for Prez in 2008. No surprise there. Oddly, with the backing of her husband, she could be a very strong contender. Femisnists everywhere can just shut up, I said it, she WILL NEED her husband's political stature and popularity to have ANY chance of a go for 2008. Hopefully, she will not make the same dumbass mistake that Gore made by distancing himself from Bill. Let her distance him once they are back in the White House full of interns--it won't be difficult. Oh, bad, Nikki!! But hell, I like Bill a lot, he'd be the reason I vote for Hillary and not write someone else in.

Hillary wants to have a public discourse and starting tomorrow evening at 7 p.m. she will be hosting web discussions... this will go on for 3 days... so if you have a question for Hillary, logon to her website and join the fray. It could be a helluva lot of fun, or it could be mindless politiko double-babble (which, in some ways, can also be fun).

And oy! Hillary is inviting people to submit a blog post to her site. I'd be more interested in what doesn't get posted though!!

Single Discriminatory Practices

Friday night I had planned to take myself to dinner, but I stood myself up. So I planned on lunch with me yesterday after some much needed retail therapy. I wanted a gyro in the worse way, so I headed over to Olga's Kitchen in the mall. After waiting for a half hour and questioning the hostess as to why it was that people in line behind me kept being seated before me, she explained it was policy... if the table was for 4, they took parties of 4 first--if the table was for 2, they took parties of 2 first. So, what that meant was that during the lunch rush, with a line up of people behind me--many of them couples--I would just have to wait until something opened up they could sit me at... the hostess was so incredibly rude about explaining the "policy" that I just left. It wasn’t enough that she was rude, she treated me as if I were stupid for even questioning it. I made it to my parking lot before anger, hunger and the stress that necessitated retail therapy caused me to break down into tears.

And, it wasn't just me. There was another single person party ahead of me; she too got fed up and just left after waiting over 30 minutes. I will not let this quietly go by; I will be sending a letter, and spreading the word about mine and others treatment at this establishment. It is unacceptable.

You might ask why I didn’t ask to speak to a manager right then and there… It’s a great question and completely fair, but you see, the manager was standing right there and heard the whole thing. In fact, he was enforcing this policy as I heard him explain to one of the other staff who was assisting the hostess.

In the end, things worked out. I left and went to a local gyro place, which I love, Ahmo’s. I had forgotten they had a location near the mall and had resigned myself to eating Subway when on my way to Target saw it. Not only did I get a far superior gyro, I got to sit at a table near the window in the sunshine. There were no screaming kids, no strollers, and while reading a Current left on the table, discovered the entry form for a writing contest I fully intend to enter.

Still, the blatant discrimination at Olga’s is completely unacceptable, and it is not in my nature to allow it to pass quietly into the night. Yes, I am fully cognizant of the discrimination that a party of one gets in restaurants, especially the ones that tout a family atmosphere… the sly suggestion that the bar area is open, or the rushing you through your meal so they can get a bigger tab seated, or seating you next to the birthday party of 20 kids. This is a first, though… the outright telling me that I am lesser a priority to be serviced because I am a party of one.

Speaking of Neanderthals....

Diana Ross.

It is almost a statement in and of itself.

Ms. Ross is out promoting her new album, "I love you." Surprisingly, it is not entitled, "I Love Me" but it probably wouldn't work, marketing-wise. She's also agreed to be a guest judge on American Idol and is going to tour. David Letterman apparently asked Ms. Ross about Dreamgirls... she, of course, has not had time to catch the Broadway musical, nor the movie--but did make the time to comment that she's always so pleased to inspire artists like Beyonce. I'm not sure if this was BEFORE or AFTER she said she would see Dreamgirls with her attorneys. Poor bastards representing her... whew!!

Now, if you go to Ms. Ross' website, you can be enthralled with images of her... at 62 she does look good--she must have some amazing surgeons to put her back together again. But I leave that for the tabloid fodder.

Neanderthals?

So yesterday an article in the LA Times caught my attention. Obviously, when an article begins with the question of whether modern human interbred with neanderthals, I have to look like a car rammed into a dumpster outside my window (what can I say, I have the view). It seems scientists with either no ethical problems toward wasting time and money on this crap or without the true skills and reliability to work on, I dunno, a cure for terminal disease, have found with some amount of certainty that modern humans are very closely related to the neanderthals. It explains some family trees. It also explains several dates over the past few years. Read:

"...it will cheer anthropologists who argue that if you gave a Neanderthal a bath, a haircut and an iPod, he would blend in with any contemporary crowd."

All I can say is really, dudes, you just needed a group of 20 or 30 women to confirm this one for you.

Catching Up

It is sometime after 2 a.m. and I’m thinking about that Anna Nalick song, Breathe (2 a.m.) … Not sure why, but hell, might as well listen to it—the lyrics are beautiful.

Went to bed at 10, and have thusly been awake since 11:30. Finally gave up trying to sleep. Tomorrow will be an “interesting” day; not unusual of late; caffeine laden and a definite bad hair day. There’s been quite a lot of these days again lately, but it gives me time to catch up the things I’ve missed—like Golden Globes.

Hurray for the Globes going to Sacha Baron Cohen, Hugh Laurie, Eddie Murphy and Prince… As you may know, I’m disappointed that Jennifer Hudson took the Globe, but there wasn’t really that much going on in her category. Dreamgirls beating out Borat—obviously a conspiracy, also beating out Little Miss Sunshine? But the bright side is Meryl Streep putting Bouncy in her place. Well, I don’t think she said anything but just by winning, I think a message was sent… stick to what you know Bouncy—backstabbing your fellow Destinies and “actors”, looking beautiful and singing. You may motivate me on the treadmill, and I have no problem laying paper for your CDs, but don’t make me have to pay $9 to see you struggle through some simple lines. Diana Ross was better (if we forget about The Wiz) at it. There was a reason she was so good at portraying a strung out Billie Holiday, but Bouncy isn’t there yet, she still has time.

Being up at this hour also allows me the knowledge of weird (and somewhat gross) cat behaviors, as Vinnie has been steadily licking the patio door for the last 10 minutes. There are also several loud crashes as branches continue to break under the weight of the ice on them and fall into the roof.

On that note, it is obvious I have nothing more constructive to offer at this point. I hope you are all sleeping dreamily… I’m off to try and find something mindless to read.

MLK Day

A friend sent me the following quote from Martin Luther King Jr. today and I thought I would share:
"Put yourself in a state of mind where you say to yourself, "Here is an opportunity for me to celebrate like never before, my own power, my own ability to get myself to do whatever is necessary."

Speaking of it being the MLK Holiday, I've said it before, I will say it again. If there was ever a holiday in which students should be in school learning, it is the Martin Luther King Day holiday. The sentiment and ideaology of Dr. King would never have called for a day away from education. However, the government having a day off from its "progress" is entirely in order for the day. In fact, we should have more holidays that prevent our government from its progress.

Ho Hum

It is 4 a.m. I was so exhausted when I got home shortly after 9 that I took a shower and immediately collapsed. I woke at about midnight and have been trying to get back to sleep ever since. Well, I gave up trying at 3 a.m. when Jake decided that if I were awake, I should share my pillow with him whilst he purred and kneaded my head. All cats made a shift from the bedroom to the living room to check into the unusual feeding hour and have since crawled into curled balls of slumber... it is not their fault I can't sleep! I do get an occassional check from Calvin where one eye suddenly pops open to ensure that I am still here and still awake, and then he returns to a full two-eyed sleep.

In the meantime, I used some caramel scented lotion when I got out of the shower this evening and damn if it isn't making my want to snack on something ultra sweet. Wisely, I don't tend to keep ultra sweet around, mandarin oranges were the choice an hour ago... sweet, but not what I had in mind. A smart girl might take advantage of this time to put together her grocery list since the fridge and cupboards are in need of replenishment.

The rain seems to have subsided for the moment. I hope it is minimal this weekend, I have a goal of gettign 25 training miles in over the long weekend, and it will truly suck doing so in the rain. There is a chance of snow on Monday--I'm keeping my fingers crossed. I have my new pink suede Adidas boots that I wore without snow, and will continue to do so, but would like it if I had the chance to stomp in them with some snow this year!

Time to annoy sleeping cats by getting up to get some water and use the bathroom.

Life's Questions

If one is married to their work... does dating become an infidelity?

The Number Ones?

What do Gnarls Barkley and Bob Dylan have in common?

They both take number one on Rolling Stone's 2006 Lists. Barkley for his horrendous "Crazy" and Dylan for a good but not great "Modern Times" album.

There was a time when I was in agreement with Rolling Stone; waiting for them to tell me the best of the year. But that was 12 years ago and now I'd be happy if the "Lists" would just go away--especially when Justin Timberlake takes a place on the list before far more talented groups like The Decemberists, Yo La Tengo and The Coup.

And you may be thinking--but aren't you a Dylan fan... don't you go see him every year? Yup, that's me, but even I can be objective. "Modern Times" is a good album, especially in the realm of the crap that was put out last year, but let's give John Mayer, The Dixie Chicks and the New York Dolls reunion their due. Yes, they are all on the list, but they had far better albums than Dylan. Thing is, Dylan is an iconoclastic figure that is apparently owed more dues than the likes of Bruce Springsteen, whose Seeger sessions album ranked, but poorly... but still probably better than it should have.

Don't even get me started on Gnarls Barkley, I'm sure it's talent...

Taking back Monday's

As I previously posted, I decided to take back Monday's for writing. In keeping with the plan, I did not go to the rec center because I had stayed at work too long trying to get a report out. But, I did get home as planned and after dinner sat down with a blank Word document. Then, apparently, I fell asleep. Mom called, woke me up after about an hour. I've gotten some writing actually done, and I'm happy with the progress, but will have to work on the not sleeping during writing time in the future.

No surprises?

Yesterday, on a walk with SK and her puppy, the trail, it seemed, was a little slippery on account of the rain that had recently subsided. There was a wood part of the trail--like a little bridge thingy... I suppose it should have occurred to me that wet wood is much more slippery than wet soil. I fell.

My knee remained swollen all day; I iced, I took Tylenol, I went shopping. A few people called me throughout the afternoon to see if I wanted to go out. I opted to decline. Not a single person whom I said that I fell was at least bit surprised. No one was shocked I was icing some part of my body. There was only the question from everyone, over and over, "AGAIN?"

Yes, people, again. And it is the same knee I continually seem to injure. And I don't know if our parts come with a warranty, like on a car... I don't know how many major impacts a single joint can take... I have no idea how much scar tissue the skin can build before you can't bend your knee... perhaps scar tissue is like padding... these are things I don't know, but think I will find out as a matter of practice. And really, isn't that what life is all about?

Dreamgirls

Not that anyone is asking for my opinion, or that the many awards shows care, but after seeing Dreamgirls this weekend, Beyonce and Jennifer Hudson, while phenomenal singers should be given Grammy’s not Gloden Globes, Academy Awards or anything else unless it is for SINGING. These ladies could not act their way out of a paper bag if they had to… and outside of the music and performances (which, they did great at, by the way) Eddie Murphy was the shining triumph in this movie. If not for the talent of he and Jamie Foxx, this repro of the Broadway sensation would have fell apart before it started. This isn’t a Chicago where good actors were forgiven their weak vocals. Beyonce (or, Bouncy, as I like to call her) is beautiful and a very talented signer… the role, suited her though… is it so hard to believe she’s a Diana Ross type? Um, no—the Supremes were Destiny’s Child the first time around… So there is no stretch to believe she could pull off Deena Jones, who was loosely based on Ms. Ross. Jennifer Hudson as an underdog, battling the comments about her appearance? Remember American Idol?

But the real star for me in this movie was not any of the actors properly (though I am continually amazed in thinking about Murphy’s perforamce), it was the social setting of the time and Detroit. I was not a live at the time of the riots (though my mother was there and I’ve heard stories of what she remembers as a child), but the movie, for the first time to me, brought it home. I’ve seen the clips, the footage, and it wasn’t new, but in the context of this movie and seeing it on the large screen, it was an amazing juxtaposition. And it was scary. I give the director his dues on that piece of movie magic.

It also reminds me how far we haven’t come since the time of “race records” and the riots and Martin Luther King… MLK day is approaching. I have it as a holiday; I’ve planned a day to go on a training walk for the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer that I am participating in come May. But in thinking about it, the façade has changed, but not the substance underneath… not really. It is sad.

Fur and Muscle Magazine

Where the notion to check the weight of my youngest cat came from, I have no idea. I had guessed he was about 11 or 12 pounds max. Mom said otherwise, but I didn't think she was right. She, of course, was. Jakey weighs in at just over 15 pounds. I was shocked, as I'm sure he was. The best I can come up with is that it's the fur that weighs him down. Yep, it's a relatively unknown fact that fur, along with muscle, can add some poundage to the kitty's scale...

In keeping with this scientifically unproven theory, the only thing I can think to do is publish a magazine on its very principle. I can see it now... Jake on the cover, Vinnie as the centerfold, Calvin giving his advice on how to properly do cat abs (see below), and Bowie doing advertisements for treats that don't freak the physique.

I mention Calvin and the abs because every night when I get home, I do some stretching and abs (perhaps some pilates or yoga, too, but not relevant here). When I say, "Calvin, let's do our abs," he comes sauntering over and plops on the floor in front of me--so I can rub his belly. THIS is how a cat does abs--it's rather ingenious, really.

I wouldn’t call it a resolution.

It started last week with a bowl of Bob’s Red Mill 10 grain cereal with blueberries. It was too hot to take with me in the car and would have been cold by the time I got to the office. So, I sat down at the dining room table; a rather obvious solution, but not one that is often utilized in my realm of living. In my place, the dining room table gets more use holding the mail from the week and whatever else I don’t have the ambition to put away right then and there. But I moved the stack of mail and a myriad of picture frames and sat down with my bowl of cereal. And there it was—sitting in front of me the way it had just a week ago.

One week before the bowl of cereal, I was with SK Christmas shopping in Brighton. Or rather, SK was Christmas shopping, I was along for the ride and browsing potential. Somewhere before Kohl’s and after Dick’s Sporting Goods, we found ourselves at Barnes and Noble. It was a delight, I was freezing and they, of course, have a Starbucks. SK went about diligently to gather up gifts and harass ignorant store clerks, I went for a decaf and chocolate cookie.

Half a cookie later, I was meandering through the store, arguing with SK that Al Franken’s book would not be under “politics” but rather the “humor” section—why they divide these sections still is beyond me. SK went off with the sales clerk to the humor section and I meandered toward the register area to review the clearance books and look at cards. About the time I noticed SK checking out, I walked passed a table to meet her and saw it. It could not have been more obvious if it had levitated off the table and smacked me in the face. The book that for the last 12 years I have been saying I was going to get; that I needed to have a copy of, but as so often the case, things come to you when you are least expecting them, and need them the most.

When I got home that night, it was late and, as I do, put the copy of the book on the table and went to bed. As excited as I was to have, finally, my own copy of “Writing Down the Bones” by Natalie Goldberg, it was at that moment more a testament and token to prove to myself, that yes, I am a writer—even if I hadn’t written anything worthwhile in forever.

Steaming hot cereal and a week and holiday later, I picked up the book and started to read the preface. So many things started to make sense again. It felt good to read another person experiences the same difficulties and barriers in writing that I was currently going through. I know it is not unique experience, but there is something soothing in the knowledge that “this too shall pass.”

Yesterday was the first day I didn’t have time to sit with the book and read a chapter while eating breakfast and I missed it all day. There are things we do by chance that we suddenly find we need to do on purpose; and this is one of them for me. I’ve never enjoyed breakfast, it has always been a necessary inconvenience on the path to better health, but this morning, I did not care if I was running behind. I stopped, ate and read. It has made all the difference in my day; I may be in pain and not feeling well, I may be without the ability to speak vocally today, but the small act of sitting for 10 minutes to eat and read—it is astounding.

I mentioned earlier that the book served as a status on the shelf—proof, if you will—that I am a writer. But writers write. That was the component that I had been missing lately. I knew it, I hated it. Last night, I vowed that if nothing else, I would write something. And I did. For me, fiction is based in the concept of poetry and prose is the culmination of many a fleeting thought captured and expounded. And the first course of action is to force myself to write poetry and think in the very basics. I may not like, exactly, what I came up with, but it opened up the thoughts again, cleared some of the passages and gave me a sense of accomplishment… not in the same way as taking out the trash or vacuuming the rug. It is the kind of feeling that says to me that the Monday night writing sessions are back—and I better stock up on Lean Cuisine or cook on Sundays again… I better be out of the gym by 5 and I need to set up a place in my apartment that works for me; I’ve been there too long to have not done that already.

New Poetry

Starry Night

The sky grows purple and black
A few wispy clouds smolder across a moon
Orange, swollen, beautiful.

Some nights it is hard to tell if I am wishing on a star or an airplane.
And I wonder. Does it matter?
Are my wishes more likely if cast upon a star—stationary in the sky,
illuminated by the sun?
Or is it more appropriate that they fall upon the wings of the Northwest connection from Minneapolis—fleeting, questionable, elusively unaware of time.
The stars follow schedule, reliable—always available but hidden by the veil of city and obscured by the glow of the everything unimportant.

And yet I wish
Hoping it falls upon something bright
Something to take it from me
Hold it until it dissolves
A desire no longer needed
A wish taken by the lights of the plane
To the wings of Zeus

Sweet Pink Boots

Earlier this fall, I found a fabulous pair of pink suede Adidas boots at DSW. I did not purchase because it was not time to wear boots, but planned to get them later. When I went back, they did not have them in my size.

It occurred to me just before New Year's to check eBay... and they had them, in my size. I watched the auction, which ended today. No bids. I placed my bid and about 3 minutes ago completed the payment for said boots... for $15 less than I would have paid at DSW and about $85 less than if Adidas.com still had them in stock.

I cannot wait to wear them. I don't care if this winter never falls below 45 degrees Fahrenheit, I'm wearing them!

Art and Dirt

As is the usual case in the evening, the TV is on and I am online reading news or responding to some emails when I hear the following:

“That’s the problem with non-representational art; you never know what offends you.” Stephen Colbert, The Colbert Report.

It caught my attention, so I looked up to see an earnest Stephen Colbert with an image of an abstract with little black bars all over it. I laughed my ass off. The man is quite simply a comic genius.

Now, I'm watching the new Courtney Cox Arquette show on FX, Dirt. I use the term "watching" loosely, but from what I can garner is that the storyline is dependent on someone fucking someone else before the next commerical break. We are 25 minutes in and I think there have been 3-4 different sex scenes, and at least one overdose. Courtney Cox seems to keep a stun gun next to her bed to kick out those with whom she's mated and some guy is talking to a cat--and the cat talks back. From what I can figure, it is best to not watch this show.

Seems I've lost my voice, again. This is getting tired. I'm getting tired. It is time to drug myself with cold medicine and go to bed. I bid yee all sweet dreams.

Broken blog

For some reason everytime I add a link today, it breaks the blog. I think it is all fixed, but if you notice a partial post... I apologize and it will also be fixed shortly.

SparkPeople

For over a year, I have used SparkPeople as a great tool for diet and motivation. I highly recomend anyone interested in making lifestyle changes to sign up--there are menu planners, food trackers, exercise plans, great articles on nutrition, exercise, wellness and motivation, as well as teams, challenges, and recipes... AND, it is free.

A new years gift...

Every so often I get asked what music I workout to. Seems to be happening a lot this week... though in all honesty, I've spent more time sick in the last week than at the Rec. BUT, I decided now was a good time to publish an iMix that I can just direct people to with some of my favorite music for the treadmill, elliptical and all those other hampster wheels that I partake of....

The iSport Mix is available and you can visit Nikki's Pleasure List. Don't forget to rate my mix!!

Happy New Year

Here it is... 2007!! So far, feels just like a Monday except I'm not at work.