This weekend Will and I are supposed to start going through the LOADS and HEAPS of crap we brought back from Kuwait that have remained in foot lockers.

It needs to be done guys- seriously.

Did you know I have an elliptical we shipped over that we haven’t even put together because we need to first create space in the 3rd garage area?

We really need to do this.

But I have a really bad feeling we’re going to put it off-

again.

Let’s hope not. My thighs are going to be really pissed if we don’t. 

It’s after 9:00 on a “gym night” which means I need to be in bed. I tend to be fairly dedicated about getting up to go to the gym in what I like to call “the middle of the night,” however lately what I like to call “fatness” has gotten the best of me.

Ha ha “quotations.” They’re so funny.

And annoying.

Anyway-

Will has been going with me in the morning too, so that’s been nice.

Okay- actually he’s been with me like twice- but still- I count it as a victory.

Rome wasn’t built in a day, right?

If I keep making trifles and candy bar cookies and 27,000 calorie cake we might be forced to live life from a queen size bed in which we take turns rolling each other over so as to avoid bedsores.

Nice.

Something about moving home has brought out the domestic goddess in me-

Where has she been all my life!?

Okay- so I’m exaggerating.

A lot.

I don’t have any creativity inside of me.

I will say, however, that moving back has brought out the desire to cook- which is good and bad.

Good: This morning I made myself a fresh fruit smoothie

Bad: I made a trifle that weighed 6 pounds.

Do you know how long one would have to be on an elliptical to burn that crap off?

We’re not talking minutes.

Think hours.

Like- I was 25 when I got on this thing and will be 26 when I get off.

But that doesn’t seem to stop me.

My willpower is like that of a bloodhound being let loose in a meat locker.

(that means I don’t have any)

Anyway- I don’t feel as large since I know I’ll be going to the gym in the morning.

Because we’re “easing” Will into the gym, I’ve been gracious enough to forego my usual hour and a half workout for just one hour. I figure I’ll do an hour of cardio tomorrow and an hour of weights the next day. I hate not doing both- but oh well.

…

And wow- I just realized what a boring post this has becoming.

Or always was.

I would apologize, but then I think to myself, “I’m soooo entitled to a boring piece of crap post every now and again (cough- or every third day…).” It’s not easy thinking up interesting crap to share!

But you guys already know that.

Okay- if you’re still hanging with me, here’s a story I’ll share.

P hates working out.

She hates working out because it makes her face red.

And she sweats.

How dare someone sweat at the gym- right!?

Anyway- I made her workout with me on the cruise several times.

Sort of.

She loved every minute of it.

Ha.

I will say, though- she did overcome her fear of “gym-ing.”

Sort of.

So one day we go to the gym and it’s really busy- and full of cute boys.

I get there and start getting ready to work out and P has like this huge conniption fit.

Like she wants to scratch my eyes out and disown me as her sister.

She refuses to work out and (with her phone in hand) says the following all flustered:

“I left my phone in the room, Britt!

I have to go! I have to get my phone! I have to go, Britt!”

She darts and goes back to the room.

For someone that hates working out- she sure can sprint.

I’m not lying- the girl hates working out in front of a crowd.

Huh.

It was hilarious when it happened. I could see the stress in her eyes at the thought of working out with a crowd. I thought she was going to have a panic attack.

Reading it here? Isn’t as funny. Oh well. I always like telling P stories. They’re fun.

Speaking of- I think I might share a secret with you guys about me and P sometime soon.

(Private to P: do you think we should tell them about The Village? Not for them to come and screw things up- but just so that they’re aware? Perhaps you can share when you guest write for me next week)

Anyway- back to the matter at hand (if there really is a matter at hand)- the gym.

Here are a few things you should be listening to while you’re there (well- this is what I am listening to right now anyway):

-Mindcircus By Way Out West- (download the version that’s on Tiesto’s In Search of Sunrise 3 cd. It’s the Gabriel & Dresden Mix)
-Open You Eyes should follow Mindcircus. It’s the next song on the In Search of Sunrise cd. That’s one thing I love about working out to trance, it all flows together so you’re always keeping the same pace

Actually- just buy it all.

All of the In Search of Sunrise cds.

That will save me a ton of time…

-Nothing But You (Club Mix), Paul Van Dyk

-This Time (Klass Remix), DJ Antoine

Okay.

That’s enough.

I’m sure I’ve lulled you to sleep- and I need to do the same.

Those calories don’t burn themselves.

…

Or something like that…

My company encourages me to come to work sick.

It’s quite unfortunate, actually.

See, we’re granted “X” amount of general leave hours each year. There’s no special set days off for being sick, it’s all lumped into one “general leave” pool of days. So- if you take a sick day you’re actually losing a vacation day.

I call this The No Fun Zone.

You see, I’d rather come to work with mucous running uncontrollably out of my left nostril, hacking up loogies (ha ha- how do you spell “loogies??”) the size of a Christmas ham, and sneezing on every open surface available than use one of my general leave days to call in sick.

My coworkers love me.

Okay- I’ll be honest- I’m not fond of people who come to work sick either. 

My left eye begins to twitch at the thought of Mr. Accountant handing me damp papers full of remnants of his last sneeze. 

“GO HOME!! YOU’RE INFECTING THE ENTIRE OFFICE!” I want to yell.

However, I can sort of empathize with Mr. Accountant, because really- who wants to blow a vacation day when you’re sick!? You want to blow a vacation day when you’re on-

VACATION.

What an idea, right?

So- I have become the person I hate.

The come-to-work-sick-employee.

Shudder.

The truth is- most of us are the come-to-work-sick-employees. It’s like a race to see who can get rid of their ailments the fastest.

It’s the “If I’m miserable, I’m bringing everyone down with me” mentality.

Like a game.

I’m not kidding.

“Oh hi Jane! How are you (hack, hack, hack)?”

Two days later and Jane is down with a cold and Sam has made a full recovery.

I’ve found wet, snotty tissues “misplaced” on my desk the other day.

HA- I know what you’re trying to do Mr. Finance! You’re trying to bring me down!

You’re trying to hold me back.

You’re trying to stick it to the (wo)MAN!

I’m on to you- I see how you play.

Work is no longer just about getting the job done.

It’s about survival.

Survival I say!

It’s as though we’re being broadcast on Animal Planet and the terrifying mother Cheetah Cold Virus Middle Manager is hunting for her helpless gazelle Administrative Assistant.

It’s a perpetual relay race of Passing The Cold.

And sadly- I lost.

I knew I shouldn’t have eaten that donut randomly lying on my desk.

That was a rookie mistake!

Anyway…

Because I took 3 weeks off for the cruise in August I’m in mega (I mean MEGA) vacation debt. I think it will be like 5 years before I’m back to “0” and finally accruing general leave hours again. However, thankfully I was able to purchase 4 days this year- you know just incase I catch a cold want to leave the state of Oklahoma at some point this year.

4 days.

FOUR DAYS.

For the entire year.

The entire year.

So-

Unfortunately I caught the aforementioned (and stricken) cold.

Because of The Random Donut

HOWEVER-

I’ll be darned (yes- that’s right DARNED) if I’m going to use one of my purchased days off to recover.

So I’ve been snotting, and hacking, and choking all over myself (and anyone in a 7 foot radius). I’ve had tears streaming down my face in attempts to hold back coughing fits. I sound like Death and/or Satan when I speak because my voice is so low and throaty and sickly and deathly.

I’m also a JOY to be around.

Really- I am.

I’ve tried my best to avoid what I call the Damp Paper Handoff as mentioned earlier. I mean- you gotta set limits, right? While I may have lost this maniacal game of Pass The Cold- I honestly have no desire to bring anyone down with me.

With my luck I’d get it right back and end up using the last of my vacation days shaking on my couch in a feverish stupor.

Nice.

So- here’s to a speedy recovery-

and a nice, long, four day vacation somewhere fun.

Or not…

Tag- you’re it!

I was up before 5:00 yesterday morning with a sick husband and barking dog.

Why are men so much worse about being sick than women? Seriously!

I don’t think men could ever handle pregnancy or childbirth or PMS… they’re the biggest babies ever!

“Feel my head.”

“I’m shivering.”

“Ow! My body is achy.”

“Will you make me tea? It tastes better when you do it, and I don’t know how.”

Sigh. I love him, and I know I’m bad too, but at 5:00 in the morning!?! Yeah- it’s enough to drive me batty.

In sickness and in health, right?

I had to go to three different stores yesterday- three!

Two pharmacies were closed until 10:00, so I decided to bite the bullet and go to Wal-mart.

Amazingly, their pharmacy was closed until 10:00 too.

Sigh.

For some ridiculous reason Will wanted me to talk to a pharmacist. Apparently because I’m a moron sitting in a pile of my own drool and can’t piece together the fact that a runny nose, sore throat, and slight fever equaled a freaking cold or possibly the flu.

Sigh.

I was over waiting until 10:00 to talk to a pharmacist. I grabbed a box of Tylenol Cold, a thermometer, juice, and a bag of Soft Batch cookies.

The cookies? Yeah- those were for me.

For my troubles.

For my strength in nursing my poor sick husband back to health.

I believe this purchase was TOTALLY justifiable and does not count towards my, “Eat healthier Resolution (I use that term very loosely, by the way).’”

He should be glad I didn’t buy vodka!

Only kidding.

Kind of…

And another week begins…

Embarrassing Moment Number 16,374:

I was a the gym this morning, just like every Saturday morning. Nothing new or out of the ordinary- except for the fact that it was especially busy with what I like to call the “New Years Newbies-” people that join to lose those last 25 pounds and drop out by March after losing only 4.

I’m such an encourager, aren’t I?

Anyway- the gym was full of New Years Newbies as well as a ton of guys that that think they can monopolize the weights because they’re so strong and cut and lean and stupid. I never see any other girls at the gym that lift weights, which is really sad! Anyway, since it’s pretty much me by myself I’m always surrounded by these grunting yucky men that think they’re so hot.

Those guys really annoy me- but maybe I should post that another day and just stick to this story, right?

But wait- those guys actually are pertinent to my story because I totally blame them for the events to follow- so it’s totally legit for me to proceed to tell you how irritating these grunting sweaty guys are.

“Oh- let me help you with that 10 pounder.”

Um yeah- you’re cute and SO charming (HA) but I could probably lift as much as you.

Um- in relation to ones weight, of course.

These guys irritate me. Did I mention that?

Anyway back to the story.

The gym was full of New Years Newbies and grunty men weight lifters- which you already know because I’ve said that a million times.

I figured I ought to “step it up a notch” to show these Newbies that I was a Gym Veteran and not one of them-

because that matters, apparently.

I also wanted to shut the stupid Monopoly Men up too. They really bother me.

What an idiot- by the way.

So I decide, “I know! I’ll do squats with heavy weights on a Bosu Ball!”

It’s not like squats on a Bosu Ball are an exceptionally special exercise or anything, but they are sort of hard if you don’t do them much, especially with weights - and as a stupid idiotic “Gym Vet” that has to fight for weight time amongst the sweaty grunty men, I thought I ought to give them a try with weights and all.

I get on the stupid Bosu Ball and do one squat and am doing okay. I’ve done it before-

while my right hand was clinging to a wall for dear life-

but never with weights-

and always clinging to something to stabilize me.

I go down to do a second one and I know something is about to go wrong.

My legs were shaking,

my whole body looked like jello-

my whole squat literally went into slow-mo

as I went down for the squat I literally fell straight on my back like a freaking idiot.

Like a New Years Newbie.

And if that wasn’t bad enough- you know being all prideful and stupid and trying to look all cool- I let out this huge, “Oh wow! I just fell on my butt,” totally stating the obvious and totally trying to play it off, but trust me- there was no playing it off.

The gym was packed and every one saw me fall backwards,right on my butt, crashing to the floor.

Sigh.

You know the funniest part of all?

I toweled off a bit and did two more sets like I didn’t even care. Trust me, though, I did.

ha ha, what a dork.

So yeah- don’t be a gym snob. That’s what I learned today.

I <3 New Years Newbies.

1. Kill the power to my blog all day.

2. Tell me “you’re working on it” and have no estimated time as to when it will be back up.

3. Provide your husband with a shopping list for the following:

Milk
Evaporated Milk
Pasta
Coke

Come Home to Find:

Honey Buns
Donuts
A 17” Walmart Pizza
Chocolate Chip-Peanut Butter Cookies
Reeces Brownie Kit
2 Twix Bars
Egg Nog
2 Types of Dip
2 Bags of Chips (you know- one for you! one for me! As if one bag wasn’t enough to put your arteries into shock...)
Milk
Evaporated Milk
Pasta
Coke

4. Proceed to watch your husband stuff, shove, and pray the aforementioned items into the most awkward crannies of the fridge and cabinet. I’m pretty sure the fridge is so full it’s about to throw up all over the freaking tile.

5. I mentioned the blog already, didn’t? Screw it- seriously, it’s twitch-worthy enough to be up here twice. I was on edge all day yesterday. Just ask Angela. I’m pretty sure she and retired blogger Sarah got the brunt of my twitching regarding that matter.

Thankfully all is well with numbers 1, 2, and 5.

3 and 4?

Yeah, currently sweating all over myself in an angry twitching frenzy.

Anything causing you trouble?

This weekend was one of the best ones I’ve had in a long time-

and it’s partly due to my work Christmas party!

Who would have thought, right?

I have so much to chat about today- are you ready to sit for a while?

Good.

So Friday was my big work Christmas party (see the below post).

Guys- I had a freaking blast. I came thinking it would be alright, but it turned out to be so much fun.

As expected I saw some funny dancing- to include our vice president! I loved it. People were totally getting down. It was too funny. I sat by my boss and another girl I work with and we had a good time.

By the way- who decides to play musical chairs three hours into an adult Christmas party where 95% of the attendees have been drinking?

Crazy people, that’s who!

I must say, though- it was pretty funny.

I somehow got roped into being one of the players. I only made it two rounds.

I blame my high heels. My feet were killing me by the end of the night.

I don’t think Will had as much fun as I did.

Wait.

I know Will didn’t have as much fun as me, but I guess that’s because I know these people and Will didn’t.

Anyway- it was a lot of fun, and yes, I will be laughing on the inside when I see some of my coworkers tomorrow morning.

Yesterday was just as much fun.

We went to dinner with Ross and Rachel followed by going to a Christmas play at their church, so that was nice.

After the play we came home and watched the Heisman Presentation (we DVRed it. I love that thing.)!

As you can imagine, we were stoked to see Bradford win.

Stoked.

I think “Stoked” needs to be added to my running list of stupid words I’m not allowed to say anymore…

Anyway- we were very excited to see Bradford win (How’s that? Better than stoked?).

As you can see from my Flickr pictures, we had a good night. I’m partial to the one of me and Rachel doing the Heisman pose. Don’t ask me how we ended up in my belly dancing skirts. I don’t remember. I do remember it was funny though.

Can I blame it on the fact that we were so happy about Bradford winning the Heisman that it impaired our judgement? I’m going to go with that.

This year has been so freaking fun to be a Sooner fan. Just thinking about it gets me fired up. The last home game- against Tech- was freaking amazing. I’m so excited for the National Championship.

Wait.

Did I tell you guys I’m going?

I know most of you don’t care about football- but as you know, Will is highly obsessed, and now that we’re back in the states it’s only worse.

Anyway, because of our season tickets we qualified for four season tickets through the school so we didn’t have to pay outrageous prices so that was very exciting!

So- Ross and Rachel are going with us to the big dance! I’m so freaking excited, and now having Bradford as the Heisman winner makes it that much sweeter.

We spent a week in Miami in February of 2007, and I figured that’d be the only time we’d be there. Now we’re heading back!

Sigh- I want to go on, but I realize you don’t care, so I’ll shut up.

I’m sure you’ll be hearing more in time…

After the game we celebrated which was oddly enough followed by a 1:00 am game of Scrabble.

Random.

Oh and just for my own odd benefit- let me tell you what a freaking cow I was last night!

We had leftover pizza from dinner so I ended up eating like 2 pieces of that at like 10:30, followed up with a Reeces Christmas Tree,

(sidebar- have you guys had those yet? They’re freaking AMAZING. They’re like the Easter egg ones. I love those things. They’re way better than the regular ones because the annoying ridged chocolate doesn’t get in the way.)

3 (or 4… I can’t really remember) regular Reeces- because apparently I WANT to be fat,

chips (Reduced Fat!… although… I think after about 2 cups it doesn’t really matter...)

a peanut butter sandwich,

and Cheetos.

MOO.

No amount of working out will undo that carnage.

BOO.

I’ll sure try at the gym tomorrow, though, guys- I promise.

Sorry- I just felt the need to unload my weekend fatness on you. I generally share this information with my sister, but she’s asleep right now, so you guys have to suffer now.

Sorry.

Anyway, we had a really good Saturday night too. In my life it’s not very common that I have two nights of big fun. A party, a play, Scrabble!? Too much fun to handle! (ha ha- I’m kidding about the Scrabble part)

Wow. I realize you guys probably could care less about:

“What I Did This Weekend!” - a short story by Brittny

However, I figured I ought to use my blog to chronicle certain things I want to remember so I can look back and, well, remember them! So- sorry for the lame post.

More (less boring crap) to come…

What did you do this weekend? 

I can’t be sure of the final count, but I think I just ate 20 or so Chick-fil-a nuggets covered in Polynesian sauce.

and I pretty much feel like throwing up all over my multi-colored carpet (afterall, now that the puke-free streak has ended, does it really matter?).

Oh- and I also had a Chick-fil-a brownie too.

Because apparently I enjoy gorging myself to the point of vomiting on game day.

Game day.

What is it about game day that will make people do stupid things like break open a keg at 9:00 in the morning, go shirtless in sub-zero weather, or eat 34,000 calories!?

Oh- and I probably also failed to mention the sausage velveeta queso dip I made (Yuck! That just sounds white trash, right?). In my defense I used “lite” sausage.

ha- you know, because 10 grams of fat per 2oz. serving is SO HEALTHY! You’re really doing a bang up job keeping your family clear of heart attacks with that “lite” sausage, Brittny!

But because it’s “game day” all rules of health and sanity go out the window.

Apparently.

boomer sooner

I send him for stamps and he comes back with the following:

2 packages of slice and bake cookies (you know, because one package isn’t enough for two sedentary people)

Hot fudge

Mint chocolate chip ice cream

oh-

and stamps.

Does he want to hurt me?

I’ve mentioned on more than one occasion my ten year long streak of being puke-free.

As odd as it sounds- I’m pretty proud of that streak. Sort of like Jerry Seinfeld was- until he ate the black and white cookie and erased ten years in a mere matter of minutes.

“My stomach is a freaking tank!” I tell people.

Some people are proud of their marathons or coin collections? Yeah- I’m proud of my amazing ability to keep my crap together when everyone else is on the floor.

Unfortunately, however, yesterday- 8 November 2008 my freakishly long puke-free streak came to a screeching halt.

Not once.

Not twice.

Maybe not even three or four times…

The streak has ended and my stomach is no longer made of iron.

It’s a sad, sad day in the B-Love house.

I feel as though this post ought to be full of hilarious vomit references embedded in each sentence, but I’m not feeling very creative. I think I flushed some of my pithiness down the toilet last night (amongst all sorts of other interesting things- way cooler and more colorful than pithiness).

So- here’s to day one on the long road to 2018.

Chances are history won’t repeat itself and I’ll find myself eating bad fish or chicken and hugging the toilet by 2010- but hey- a girl has to have goals right?