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One for me, and one for my homies.
[Knowing full well you won't get the next five minutes of your life back, watch this if you've ever wanted to tell upper management why their ideas are so fundamentally wrong when it comes to white space.]
Lunches made. Workout, conveniently skipped. Monday morning is here. Again.
I wish I had tales of wild abandon from a lost weekend to share, but you know what? Sometimes, you have a bad weekend for any number of reasons. And that's just what it is.
So why post that? I would argue, why not?
IN OTHER NEWS
• No full report on Leopard yet, but this dude seems to have all the answers. I decided not to load it onto my G5 until Stacy Julian's book project was out the door, which has to be by 5 p.m. today. I did load it onto my MacBook Pro, and it seems pretty nifty, at first glance.
• I have cramps.
• No other news, scrapbooking-related or otherwise.
• Feline leukemia is the no. 1 killer of cats.
signed, debbie downer, who means no disrespect to anyone who has lost a cat to the aforementioned malady… it just gives you an idea of the tone in which i write this.
When it comes to the software, I'm an early adopter.
No questions asked. None. Wasn't the case with the iPhone, of course, which I can report I am somehow scraping by in my life without one. That said, when it comes to new OS releases, I have no hesitation. I will leap, not only without looking, but without thinking. We Mac users are such a predictable bunch.
I would have paid $35 just for the box.
And as I install my new software later tonight, I will be doing it while wearing my new slippers, which have completely blown my "I'm-the-least-excessive-person-I-know" cover, as anyone who pays $85 for slippers when they could have easily chosen the Brass Plum knock offs, clearly has a misunderstanding of the word "excessive."
And yes, I am probably one of the last people in a group of say, 10 to 30 average American women who have never owned a pair of Uggs, and am a good three years behind the trend, but… it doesn't make them any less magical.
I mean, your feet don't even sweat. I'll tell you what—that there's some magic. Indeed.
(That's what we call our pagination sheets for our publications. And yes, I sing the song whenever I work on creating or updating a map.)
Wrapping up work on Stacy Julian's new book, Photo Freedom. Which is a very good thing, because many times, towards the end of a project, I wonder why in any sane moment I have chosen my, uh… chosen profession.
Allow myself to introduce… myself
Also going to be wrapping up the January/February issue of Simple Scrapbooks, or most of it, today as well.
So why am i posting? Good question. I gotta go. Jeez! I'm serious. I can't talk to you right now...
p.s. Music pick of the week: Check out the new album by Dan Wilson (of Trip Shakespeare and Semisonic fame). He's a local boy done real good. I am adoring this album and I've only heard it once. (Margie, you will LOVE this!)
Welcome to another year in your 30s.
Go wish Tara a happy little day, if you're so inclined.
And PLEASE—FOR THE LOVE OF GOD—DO NOT make that soup i posted yesterday.
Parsnips=ewwwww. Got no love for the parsnip.
None.
Bottoms up! And may the Force be with you.
• boys playing fall soccer, with zeal
• This sneak peek at the new book from scrapbooker Elizabeth Dillow, The Scrapbooker's Almanac.
• Sorting through photos from September 2006 through July 2007 and putting them into temporary albums so I can actually see what photos I have.
• This recipe for Roasted Autumn Vegetable Soup, which I pulled down from the Weight Watchers web site. I added the brown sugar, and honestly, you could add more squash and less parsnip, but that's just the parsnip hater in me talking. Will be having this tonight for dinner, with some hot fresh Johnny Cake!
Download roasted_autumn_soup.pdf
(And if the download goes correctly, you can trim it out and it fits perfectly into the American Crafts 6 x 6 album, from the recipe album thing I posted a while back. You know…file it under "soups."
• EDITED: I made the soup and it was borderline INEDIBLE. So sorry. Proceed at your own risk.
• It's actually cool enough to eat the aforementioned soup. [see above bullet point!]
• My mom is safely out of surgery today, and that is the most good thing of all. Love you, Mom!
Me, as Dan is heading out the door to work: "I love you, honey…I'd marry you again!"
Dan: "I'd marry me again, too."
Me: "Honey!"
Dan: "Oh…sorry. I used the wrong pronoun."
Happy anniversary, babe. I love you.
Some believe that choosing to use the word 'sucks' is a sign of diminished intelligence—that it demonstrates a lack of education, or the ability to make more sophisticated choices. But seriously? When something sucks, you can't really do it justice by saying it "bodes poorly on the psyche, thusly causing duress, angst and severe dejection." It just sucks, man. End of story.
I think dieting sucks.
Now…on certain days, I am simply livingmybestlife.com. I am powerful. And healthy. And make really smart choices that will enhance my body and soul. Yay!
On other days, I am STARVING.
And yesterday, on the heels of a stupid wine hangover, I ate many things that the last time I checked (which was, in fact, YESTERDAY) aren't really on the plan. Let's take a look, shall we?:
For those unfamiliar with how Weight Watchers online works, you get a certain number of points, and then you enter your food intake on this nifty little screen, and you see your victories (or failures) calculated magically right before your very eyes.
And every week, you get daily points, and overflow points, to be used at your discretion, say, when you want to have that extra slice of cake. Or, five more Weight Watchers—what? you can't quite read on that list? Oh, it says—GIANT FUDGE BARS.
As you can see, as of yesterday, not only have i met my weekly points allowance, but i've managed to surpass it by 11.5 points. Could have been the WW fudge bars, which go from 1 point to like 20 when you have more than one. Or the large chunks of Byerly's parmesan cheese I ate as my after-dinner snack. Or the pine nuts. The bottom line is that I HATE it when that happens, the dreaded point overage thing. And to make matters worse, why do they have to run that number in red? Why not green, or light blue? Red is just so…hurtful.
Also note, in my plan choices yesterday, you will see 13 points for a Snickers bar. Now you may be thinking, "Jesus, Cathy… how big was that bar?" Well, I don't know. I was just taking a stab at a number because I actually went out last night, and picked up a bag of mini snickers and managed to eat them ALL in one sitting. Nice.
The fact of the matter is, some days, like yesterday, dieting sucks and I wish i were magically thin all the time, and everyone liked me, and I could play the guitar and sing like a freaking bird, and the letters O, C and D were just part of the alphabet and not my personal modus operandi, and I made a huge salary just by taking successive breaths, day in and day out.
But there I go dreamin' again.
…and just a titch too much of that cheap red wine. I don't remember the last time I woke with a tummy ache directly caused by the prior night's imbibement session. (Is 'imbibement' even a word?)
Let's just say I blew off ye olde early morning workout today. I'm not that concerned. I mean, yes, wine has points, but come on… they're liquid points, and every one knows those types just run through you leaving little if any trace.
And really, that's all I have today. Wednesday. From St. Paul, Minn. On a cool and cloudy fall day that makes me want to simmer something on the stove all day.
And wash it down with…lots and lots of water.
And Advil.
So I'm cleaning up the kitchen last night, doing an extra special good job, because I'm hosting a Pampered Chef party tonight (I know, my coolness is SUCH a distraction at times), and I'm explaining to Dan that I'll pick up a pizza for him and the kids from Papa Murphy's, but that later, during the party, he'll want to come downstairs to taste the dish the demonstrator is making, because, "It's reallyl yummy…it's this anti pasta pizza thing."
To which he replies: "But I'm FOR pasta."
And I've never heard that one before, and think it's the funniest thing ever. He says it's one of the oldest ones out there. And I say, "Well, it's new to me.
To which he acknowledges, adding "My timing was impeccable."
