Fever

Spring...

I am awaking from the dead. The earth is warming, my senses are clearing and I have the fever. We all feel it.

I went for a walk today, on this brisk, crystal blue sky day, in the park close to my apartment. Everyone was out...moms, dads, couples, teens, babies, dogs, runners, squirrels, guys, bikers, women, picnic-ers, basketball players. There was 1 birthday party, for "Michael". Just follow the soccer themed signs to find the party.

I tend to like to tune the city noises out. I am never far from my ipod. It is another appendage. Thank goodness I left it at home. Missing the birds sing would have been a tragedy.

Disappointment

I forgot to get wet cat food. Instead of wet food in the morning he and is sister will have to eat dry food. He's not pleased.

Rotten Eggs

Not sure what is up with my stomach but it dictates my life. Food is never far from my mind. I freakin' love food.

Except oysters, the slimy bastards. I would rather vomit than eat oysters. In fact, I might throw up if I do eat one so let's just skip that whole experiment. The other thing I hate is egg yolks...also makes me throw up. When I was a kid my dad often made fried eggs. I would only eat the whites. Well, one day Pops got offended at my snub of the yolks and insisted I eat my yolks. I started bawling and screaming "I'll throw up, please don't make me!!!!!!!!" My dad wasn't going to let this one go and said, "Eat the damn yolks." (swearing added for effect) I do the dirty deed...sobbing like a drama queen...and then proceed to project bile all over the kitchen table.

Payback's a bitch.

I have a very active gag reflex. If I see someone tossing cookies the gaging starts and one needs to stay clear of a possible chain reaction. My 'loving' husband loves to test this out on me. His favorite trick is to dry heave in my presence just to watch me gag and heave involuntary in response. Ah, stupid human tricks. We are a great team at a slow party.

Well, I started out writing a completely different blog but all this talk of vomit has stolen all of my creative juices...so to speak.

Until next time...

Balancing on Noodles

I can't move. I blame the gym.

I have never been one who likes to exercise. As a child, between the age of 6 - 12, I was a huge swimmer. And I don't mean my size. I think I weighed all of 20 lbs wet. I was a maniac swimmer because my mother wanted her daughter to go to the Olympics. I had a 'backstage' mom of the swimming world.

What does a 8 year old do at swim practice when they are training to be an Olympic swimmer? Swim...swim, run, run stairs, lift weights...yes, you heard correct, lift weights. I can't remember what I bench pressed at 8, but I am sure I could have whipped your 8 year old ass. I digress...

I don't like to exercise. I didn't at 8...I don't now. But as a health conscious adult I know that it is best to keep a healthy heart by pumping some extra blood into it. It also keeps me from tripping on a flabby, saggy ass.

I haven't been in a long time...a very long time. I am the queen of excuses of why I can't go...I'm too tired, my stomach hurts, my knees ache, I just washed my hair...but, the Gods spared me of all excuses today and I went.

As bedtime is approaching I am wondering how I am going to step into the shower without a step ladder. I look forward to resting the weary body in my delicious bed. And as I wake tomorrow I will begin to think of every excuse that will take precedence over my presence at the gym.

Manicure anyone?

Signs

There is a new tradition in my apartment now that I am married. Spring Training has begun and "Field of Dreams" must be watched.

I don't think I ever realized (back in '89) that it wasn't just about baseball.

Listen.

Be willing.

Trust.

...all things that are against my nature...