Super Duper

The excitement is building for our revered annual Superbowl extravaganza as all America gears up for the most pervasive nationwide football party ever. And I’m snuggled up right smack in the middle of these enthusiastic throngs. My dilemma is that I don’t much mind which team wins the championship as I have no strong pull toward or against either one. Normally I take into consideration the geographical location in reference to home base but in this case, both are out of Midwestern states and there really isn’t much difference. Therefore, the organizer that I am felt the need to tally up the pros and cons in order to make an informed decision. These somewhat lame, personal considerations came into play while reflecting on my choices.

Colts

1. Peyton Manning has been my FFB QB for the last several years and I really can’t lay the blame on him for my FFB failings.

2. Indiana is my state’s next door neighbor which can make for close, fuzzy ties or aggressive sibling rivalry. *glares at Pittsburgh*

3. I’ve driven through Indianapolis on I-70 on NE trips.

4. TBC and bro-in-law are rooting for the Colts and I love playing devil’s advocate.

Bears

1. They are also perched next to a Great Lake.

2. My mom was born there.

3. One of their team colors is orange and being a Browns fan, I have much in the way of citrus-hued accessories and clothing.

4. Several of my cousins reside in Chicago.

And yet, none of these enumerated facts were of much help in picking the all-important preference. Next, I googled “Who is Cleveland rooting for in the Superbowl?” and came across some savvy hometown perspective. Mike from God Hates Cleveland Sports had this to say:

CHICAGO BEARS

Pros: A kick-ass defense is what football is all about. Chicago is almost a sister city to Cleveland. Or at least a parent city, cuz it's the city we want to grow up to be. And though the Bears is one of the NFL's storied franchises, they've been fairly downtrodden over the last 10 years or so for their 1985 Super Bowl championship.

Cons: The Bears are still living off of that 1985 Super Bowl championship. Then there's the White Sox, Michael Jordan, and the World's Largest Tavern a.k.a Wrigley Field, where the Cubs perennially disappoint. They got plenty in Chicago, they don't need another Super Bowl title.

INDIANAPOLIS COLTS

Pros: Peyton Manning is one of the NFL's good guys, even if he does throw his offensive line or defense or idiot kicker under the bus every now and then. Tony Dungy is a class act. And they've been a fun offense to watch for years.

Cons: It's the Colts fault the Browns moved to Baltimore to begin with. First, they drafted John Elway, then didn't want to pay him enough money, so he held out and went to Denver. While there, he crushed Browns fans dreams. Then the Colts snuck out of Baltimore, leaving a gaping hole that Art Modell eventually filled.

After much soul-searching deliberation, I have decided to throw my support to the Chicago Bears (sorry TC!) and dug through my closet to find appropriately-hued attire. Glued to the TV, I’ll be resplendent in bright orange jeans and a navy Rip Curl surf shirt complemented by numerous orange accessories (see above) as I once again play hostess with the mostest to our regular posse. A panoramic spread of gastronomic delights washed down with a steady flow of Genesee beer will grace the groaning table. Pictures are promised as we pay homage to this most glorious of all national holidays, Superbowl Sunday. In conclusion, GO BEARS!!!

Love Is In the Air

My preshus honey bunny hubby pooh can't remember jack squat when we are out and meeting new people. I have to remind him of their names or where they work, etc. He's just out enjoying himself and trying not to busy his mind with minor details like your name. That's my job. Always has been and I thought, always will be. Until tonight.

We headed to our weekly Power class, loaded up on weights and proceeded to get started. Some new girl was heading up our hour of intense muscle use and she introduced herself (I didn't catch her name) and said she was substituting for our regular instructor and would also be covering for her in a couple of weeks and its likely that she will take over either our class or the Monday night class on a permanent basis. That's cool.

Anyways, we get started and by the second song I realize this is 'Richards kind of music'. Kind of dark.... ok, wait. No... it was German or something. Something that he'd listen to. I looked at him and he was just lifting away with no a care in the world... it was like he'd died and gone to heaven. He smiled and turned his attention right back to the new little sub.

All of the instructors we have for this class are thick. Not fat, but thick. They are muscular and can lift massive amounts of weights and with ungodly amounts of reps. This little girl was slender and about, ohh... a size one. I tried to find some muscle tone, but she was just thin (not like anorexic girl, who by the way was a noshow tonight). This instructor is a hard-ass! She worked us harder than any of the 'muscular' instructors and is a damn slave-driver during abs. I love her!

I watched Richard during our class... I watched him, watch her... more than any other instructor. He even got his form perfected, which he refused to do in any other class. But little new sub got him to do it. I thought, 'if he wasn't with me... this girl would be one he'd want to hook up with'.

After class she came over and introduced herself again (I still didn't catch her name) and asked if we were new. She said she hadn't seen us around before... (but we hadn't seen her around either). I told her we'd been members for quite some time but we'd just never been in a class of hers. She went on to talk to us about how she's a school teacher and is going to start teaching more of these classes and hopes we enjoyed it and yadda yadda. I told her we did.... and thank you... and see you next time.... and all that good stuff.

We stopped at the clipboard on the way out so we could sign-in for the class (kind of backwards way to do it, but we always sign-in afterwards) and I noticed her name at the top of the form. As we walked out, Richard said 'her name is Crystal'. I think that's what he said... i've completely forgotten now what her name is/was. We got our keys and headed to the car. He plopped down in his seat (with his new-found energy... that he rarely has when we leave the gym!) and says "I really like her!" (may I interject my 'no shit Sherlock' here?)

I like her too. She's hardcore and makes me hurt! I love that!!!

I said, 'you know... she's your type of girl'. He says, 'yeah, she is! I was loving that music she was playing. She's got great taste and blah blah blah blah' (I totally spaced out about here). I follow with ' I had a thought while we were exercising and I was watching you watch her. If I wasnt' in the picture... you'd so be all over her!' He confirms that she's his type and follows with all kinds of information like... she's a teacher (he never remembers where people work or their position) and that she's thin but has muscle tone. I had commented earlier that she was so thin and not too muscular however he informed me that I was mistaken. She had muscle tone because while she was instructing and lifting with us, her muscles were popping out and he could see that she had blah blah blah (whatever).

I would not be surprised if we suddenly get interested in more classes and it just by chance is being taught by Crystal. I won't have to drag Richard, kicking and screaming, to the gym. He'll meet me at the car when I get home from work.... all dressed and bottled water in hand... kind of like a kid getting to go to the candy store.

MEN! But I guess if it works.... I'll go with it and let her heavy German music loving thin blonde butt suck him into being a gym rat. That's what i've wanted all along... *giggle*

Dial Trials

Our “favourite” (hehe) Canuckian chick recently blogged about misdialed numbers and I just had to relate a few personal tales to our readers. One that really sticks out in my mind was the adamant male caller who persistently argued that I had paged him. This was years before Caller ID or even cell phones. It was 11 pm on a Sunday night and though I had not quite drifted off to sleep, the jolting ring at my bedside most definitely scared off the sandman. Not satisfied with my denial, he called me back. Several times. He didn’t believe me! Fully awake and now employing the kitchen phone so as not to disturb TBC, I continued my futile attempts to get through his thick skull that there was no way on God’s green earth I was the guilty party that did this dastardly deed. In the ensuing conversation, it was established that a) it was now almost midnight, I resided in Oklahoma and most importantly, my sleep time had been greatly depleted for someone who had to get up for work the next day, and b) he was in Boston with what suspiciously sounded like raucous, background bar noises and there was no earthly way the culpability rested with moi. After further interrogation, it was ascertained that while I indeed possessed the correct digits, either he or the person paging him (I forget which it was now) had foolishly transposed the area code for LOUISIANA thus getting an increasingly miffed me in OKLAHOMA. Thanks for the memories buddy and never argue with a sleepy, disgruntled Mz Circe.

TBC and I have had the same land line number for ages and fortunately the amount of wrong numbers is not excessive though it does occasionally happen. If it occurs it tends to be someone transposing the numerals of a local convenience store. The biggest headache has been TBC’s recent cell phone acquisition. I have seriously speculated the possibility that some eminent drug dealer was the previous owner. TBC must receive five wrong calls a day (and going far into the night) and the name requested is rarely the same. Since I pay for cell phone usage and he likes his apparently popular number, I finally recorded a firmly worded message clearly enunciating precisely whom they were reaching in the hopes of cutting down persist misdirected calls.

“Attention Head-Firmly-Wedged-Up-Your-Ass Callers Who Obviously Don’t Give a Rat’s Toenail if You Actually Reach the Party You Intended as You Just Keep Calling This One Again and Again Even When Clearly Told the Person You Want is NOT at This Number. Here are the facts:

"Lisa/Brett/Tom/Melanie/Rick/Chester/Jennifer is NOT at this number. Please make a mental note to refrain from redialing this number 3 seconds later in hopes the person in question will now miraculously answer. I will assume this person is someone you know personally as most of the wrong calls originate from our particular town. May I suggest that the next time you see them you question the possibility of a change in their cell phone affilation or designation and request that you be given the updated information? Of course, it is within the realm of possibility that your friendship status has altered and it is with malice aforethought that you are not in possession of their current number. This is not my problem. Nurturing new, preferably substance-free acquaintances might be something to consider. Have a nice day.”

Muscle Madness

Anorexic girl is back on the prowl. Actually, she's never been off... but this week she's really driving me crazy so I have to write about it. I've blogged about her before (i'll find the post) but here lately she's taken a new look.

Let me briefly refresh memories...
She is at the gym 'working out' regardless of what time I make it in, so that means she's there all the time. I never see her crack a sweat yet she clocks hours on the treadmill or eliptical trainer, lifts baby weights, etc. She selects the same treadmill every time because it is directly in front of a mirror and she can spend the next hour or two staring at herself and periodically checking her phone to see if she missed a call even though it never rang. In our weight training class she places herself in the very front and spends the next hour looking herself up and down - regardless of what position we are in, she's looking in that mirror. Oh! and.... she's a complete biatch!

She won't speak. I guess she's afraid she'll crack her makeup if she smiles or speaks. A few days ago, I had a soft moment and I passed her on the floor... I smiled and said 'hi'. She just looked at me... then away... and walked on. Biatch! Her scrawny undernourished cellulite arse has issues!

One of which I can't quite figure out. She looks pregnant. She's deathly thin but has this protruding stomach. Of course it could be distended because she's starving, but it appears as if she's got a bun in the oven. She stands around with it sticking out and doesnt try to suck it in. It doesn't seem to be growing though.... well, it has somewhat because the first time I noticed it was about 4 months ago but by this time it should be huge! I'm not sure what's going on there... but with all the admiring she does of herself and how she thinks she's perfect, you'd think she'd noticed the roundness in the middle.

Last night she was 'training' another girl. Now, that was a sight to see. Anorexic girl, who curls a whopping 7.5lbs each arm, training another person. I noticed she was even loaded up on some drink... those that athletes mix for energy and muscle building. She'd filled an entire gallon of water with it and was carrying the gallon around sipping on it. Good grief. That girl needs a hamburger or a big shot of protein supplements. Something with substance! An attitude adjustment wouldn't hurt either!

Wilde Childe

Back in junior high, there was an extremely attractive gal with a very tawdry reputation. (Doesn’t that sound like the beginning of a fantasy fable?) Lovely Linda was notoriously known for her flagrant bed-hopping and brazen thievery. We must have shared one class together as I recall overhearing many sordid tales of her wild exploits and narrow escapes. Sporting lavish face paint applied with her trusty trowel, she possessed pretty cornflower blue eyes, a substantial amount of bleached blonde hair, and a flawless, angelic face that belied the fact she was in reality, one wild teenage hellion. Two specific incidents come to mind as I nostalgically muse about days gone by. One was the widespread knowledge of her having posed for nudie pix and the extensive circulation of said photos throughout our hormonally-fueled campus. She was fully aware of them and quite proud of their existence and though I never saw the actual evidence, I assume they truly existed and were not a figment of overactive imaginations. Secondly, I remember her boastful bragging regarding her controversial skills at shoplifting. To this day I recall her telling an enthralled female audience about the time she swiped an entire ensemble right out from under the store’s oblivious nose (pre-clothes tagging) by wearing it under her outfit. Nowadays, her exploits would hardly raise an eyebrow but back then, she was considered quite the radical renegade. She dropped out of high school after an unplanned pregnancy overshadowed her educational endeavors and her further forays through life remain unknown. Though she made for a lot of gossip fodder at the time, I honestly hope she found that elusive happiness that seemed to have evaded her troubled youth.

When Worlds Collide

You can be anywhere where when your life begins. You meet the right person and anything is possible.

Carlos: You're crazy...
Nicole: ...and you're beautiful.

“When fate steps in and brings together two high school seniors from opposite sides of the track, it's something crazy/beautiful in this sexy, fun and energetic story of first love. Nicole (Kirsten Dunst) is the 17-year-old troubled daughter of a wealthy congressman who never met a rule she didn't break. Carlos (Jay Hernandez) is a grade A student with big dreams who endures a two-hour bus ride every morning to attend high school in an upscale L.A. neighborhood. Their innocent flirtations quickly develop into passionate love, but Nicole's self-destructive behavior threatens their relationship and puts Carlos' promising future in jeopardy. Will their intense passion keep them together despite the objections of their families or will Carlos be forced to plan his future without Nicole? Surprises lie at every turn in this wildly seductive and critically acclaimed drama.”

A few weeks ago I rented Crazy/Beautiful and found myself rooting for this diametrically opposite couple. I’m all about reversing the usual stereotypes and she plays the spoiled, bored, substance-abusing, rich gal who initiates the romance while he’s the wrong-side-of-the-tracks, ambitious, serious, feet-firmly-planted-on-terra-firma guy. Though never having set foot in a plane, he yearns to be a naval pilot and she just wants to live it up and get high with her like-minded, hell-raising buddy, Maddy. Braless Nicole in her cropped tops, low-riding jeans and overt, in-your-face sexuality juxtaposes Carlos’ reserve and understandable wariness of any extraneous attachments. He has a well-planned out life and given the opportunity to make something of it, has no intention of wasting it. On the other hand, she doesn’t look past her nose or care what people think and lives her life on the edge. As their involvement deepens and his responsibilities go by the wayside, big brother is compelled to read him the riot act. Carlos disentangles himself from her sensuous web but gallops to her rescue when she incoherently answers her cell while attending a raucous party. Together, the viewer and Carlos discover what prompts her undisciplined behavior and though it doesn’t excuse it, insight and sympathy are obtained. Her Latino knight in shining armor whisks her away before she can be sent to a Betty Ford-like clinic as they spend time alone mulling their future. Seeing the error of her ways, they return, giving her the opportunity to make amends and come to terms with her family. In the end, he ships off to boot camp to embark on his exciting military future and this newfound, responsible member of society is anticipating her first reunion with him. Love conquers all...

Potty Break

In our continuing commitment to get unpacked, moved in and decorated, we gave our bathroom a splash of sparkling personality this weekend. I liked the brightness of the white walls, however it lacked some flare. With the master bath being an extention of the master bedroom - and we are working on the decor on the bedroom - the bathroom needed something to make it more attractive - Eye-catching!
Our bath before:
The blue tape was used for painting purposes only.

Our bath after we painted.

We chose to leave the walls around the vanity area white so that there wouldnt be a red/pink cast on your skin. The red and white looks sharp and gives the bathroom much needed spark! Its bright, yet homey.... comfortable. However, I hope my guys don't get to comfortable in there and start camping out! lol