My Week in Review: Photo Edition

Another week has come and gone, and this week I thought I'd fill you in on what I did and saw through a series of pictures I took throughout the week.

 

 I started reading Deja Dead, the first book of the series the TV show "Bones" is based on. I've never watched the show, but I've heard the books are great. I haven't read a good mystery in a while, so I'm hoping this one doesn't disappoint. I'm only a chapter in, so I'll fill you in at a later date.

I found these window markers in my I-don't-know-where-else-to-put-these-so-I'll-throw-them-in-here drawer this week. My dear friend Shawna and I bought them last year and drew a Halloween scene on my front windows. If I could draw half as well as Shawna can (or anything better than a stick figure), I'd attempt to do it myself. But I can't, so I won't.

My, what big ears you have. I have no idea what he was listening to or for, but when his ears are this big, I can't resist snapping a picture.

Thursday was definitely a caffeine-and-chocolate-for-breakfast kinda day. I had a project sheet to start writing and crochet instructions to finish. I have no doubt that my breakfast of champions helped me meet my deadlines.

This poor tree has been dead for over a year now. Saturday's winds blew it right out of the ground. My backyard looks lopsided now, with just one tree.

Somehow, Randel's sweet mom always knows when I'll like something she picks up randomly at the store. She found these key lime bars last week and gave them to me. I finally got around to making them, and they're delicious! They actually taste a lot like the lemon bars Krusteaz makes, but that's just fine by me, because they're divine too.

Randel's dog hates me, but Deuce adores Randel. Deuce pretty much wants nothing to do with me when Randel is around.

Deuce's ear has been bothering him, so I took him to the vet. Not only does my poor baby have allergies, but he also has some infections, in his right ear and in his paws, which he licks all. the. time. Combatting these infections requires three different medicines. He's lucky he's cute, cause this stuff wasn't cheap.

Who has the most amazing best friend in the history of best friends? If you guessed me, you would be correct. Jennifer and I had lunch at Zio's today then went to the outlet mall just to look around. I left with this fabulous Coach wrislet (my first Coach item EVER), as an early birthday present. I tried to tell her not to get it for me, but she wouldn't hear of it. And she even let me take it home today instead of making me wait a month. She said it would be torture for her to have it at her house for a month without being able to tell me about it anyway.

What with the key lime bars and Coach purse, this week has its work cut out for it if it wants to be better than last week.

How I Learned about the Game of Football

After the Red River Rivalry blowout I just witnessed (BOOMER!), I feel it's an appropriate time to tell you how I learned the game of football.

Anyone who knows me well knows how much I love sports. I yell at the TV during games, kick my feet wildly during big plays, and make ridiculous claims when frustrated, such as, "I would make a better quarterback than Romo!" and throw my hands up in exasperation. (Actually, maybe that particular claim isn't so preposterous, given Romo's terrible performance of late.)

But my love of sports didn't always run so deep. In fact (and this is hard for even me to believe), the first thirteen or fourteen years of my life, I hated football. My mom is the one who taught me about sports and instilled a love of all major sports in me. When she'd put the TV on a football game after church on Sundays, I used to think it was her way of telling me she didn't want me in the room.

I mean, I was very vocal about my dislike of this boring and confusing game (shocking, I know). "Can't we watch something good?" I asked many Sunday afternoons. The answer was always no. Football was good, she claimed.

So when she spent the day yelling at the TV, kicking her feet wildly during big plays, and making ridiculous claims about her ability to coach better than Bill Parcells, I concluded that she wanted me out.

I guess I just got so bored one Sunday that instead of holing myself up in my room with a Nancy Drew mystery, I ventured out to the living room, plopped on the couch, and tried to watch a football game. After all, if I ever wanted to watch TV on a Sunday, clearly it was going to have to be football.

I don't remember specifics (this was over a decade ago), but I can only assume the questions started approximately two minutes in.

"What just happened?"
"Did they score a point?"
"What's a false start?"
"So what's offsides, then?"

And the question that took me the longest to understand: "What's a first down?"

My poor mom spent weeks trying to get me to understand the downs system. Understanding it perfectly well now, I honestly don't know what was so confusing. I remember thinking something like, Why would a fourth down be bad? Four is bigger than one, so wouldn't you be excited about getting a fourth down?

When I finally got a handle on the whole downs thing, I got stuck on why they'd punt the ball away on 4th and 2. "Two yards," I'd say. "That's nothing! Why don't they just go for it?"

"Because if they don't make it, the other team gets the ball right there and will have good field position," my mom patiently explained on more than one occasion.

Now I understand coaches' reasoning for this decision, of course, but I'd be lying if I didn't say that sometimes I still think they should just go for it. I hate a wasted drive.

Obviously, I eventually learned enough to follow along and then enough to actually look forward to watching football with my mom all day Sunday. I'm nowhere near as knowledgeable about the sport as she is (I never know who the penalty is on until the refs announce it; she always knows), but I can hold my own and love spending weekends watching nothing but football.

I'm glad my mom never gave up on me (and Lord knows she had every right, what with me asking the same questions over and over), because we truly bonded over football...and eventually baseball and basketball.

My wonderful mom taught me the difference between a false start and offsides, what the red zone is, and the importance of patience and sticking with something...even if it takes you weeks to understand.

Fabulous Friday: Olay Moisturizing Body Wash

Confession time: I'm not a fan of showering.

I'm not opposed to personal hygiene--I hate sweat as much as the next girly girl--but showering is just such. a. process.

When I get home from the gym, all I want to do is plop on the couch...and eat, let's be honest. But I can't go to bed sweaty and gross, because besides the fact that that would be disgusting, I'd be known as the smelly girl at work.

So, in order to not offend my coworkers' olfactory bulbs, I dutifully drag myself in the shower every night (after as much procrastination as possible). And then I dread getting out.

Wanna know why? Because slathering on lotion takes so much time! [Note: It actually only takes about 2.5 minutes, but when you're cold and about to miss the start of your show, it feels like a really long time.]

And you can forget about simply skipping the lotion process. I get ashy seconds after drying off and would be itchy all night if I didn't moisturize.

Enter my favorite product (well, one of many): Olay Moisturizing Body Wash, specifically in soothing cucumber.

Go get some. Like now.

This stuff is liquid gold in my world. It's so amazing I don't even have a bottle of super-hydrating lotion for alligator skin on my bathroom counter anymore.

I don't mind paying a couple extra bucks for body wash if it means I get to step right out of the shower and into my PJs. Well...after the important step of drying off, of course.

This has almost made showering enjoyable. Almost. I'd still rather not do it most nights.

Oh, and an added bonus: even hours later my bathroom still smells so fresh and so clean clean.

10.11.12

You know today is 10/11/12, right? I hate math, but I love numerical patterns and things of that nature.

So in celebration of this momentous date, I give you: 10 of my favorite things, 11 of my favorite posts, and 12 of my favorite pictures.

10 of My Favorite Things:
1. peanut butter
2. fuzzy robes
3. being right
4. zumba
5. spending time with my amazing family and friends
6. massages
7. awesomely bad TV e.g. "The Bachelor"
8. laughing until I cry
9. bright-colored nail polish
10. getting to wear jeans to work every day

11 of My Favorite Posts

1. Those (Sometimes) Simpler Times
2. Are You My Doppelganger?
3. 365 Days Later
4. Anniversary: Take 2
5. It's So Hard to Say Good-bye
6. Fabulous Friday # 8: The Smell of Uncooked Rice
7. Doggy Don't
8. Laissez Les Bon Temps Rouler
9. Kids Really Do Say the Darndest Things
10. A Tale of Six Cavities
11. A Day in the Life of a Hobby Lobby Copywriter

12 of My Favorite Pictures:
1. Randel and I made this sad-looking gingerbread house just a couple months after we started dating. I love this picture because it reminds me of the fun memories we made.

2. You all know by now that Deuce is my furry child, and this picture makes me smile every time I see it. He loves riding in the car, and you can tell by his "smile."

3. Besides the laughter, amazing food, shopping, and time spent with two of my favorite girls (Shawna and Laura), the gorgeous Spanish moss trees were one of my favorite things about my Mardi Gras trip.

4. This picture is of a rose Randel brought me one day when I was home sick, along with an icee and  a Baby Ruth (my favorite candy bar at the time). What a guy!

5. The only time of the year my family is together is at Thanksgiving, my favorite holiday. We have so much fun playing games, laughing with (and sometimes at) each other, and of course, eating. I have the best family ever!

6. This is my best friend's adorable two-year-old, Reed. He makes me such a happy aintie. I just had to capture his mischevous look.

7. This picture makes me laugh because of how many people thought it was underwear when I posted it on Facebook. I just thought it was pretty. In case there's any confusion this time around, this is a picture of the bottom of the shirts hanging in my closet. I was on the floor doing crunches (my closet is the only carpeted area in my house) and noticed how pretty they were, all color coordinated and wavy like.

8. The day I met Serge Ibaka was one of the happiest days of my life. I was like a starstruck teenager. I mean, the man is gorgeous and famous and a great basketball player and speaks several languages...and I got a picture with him. Swoon.

9. I rarely think to take pictures of nature (probably because I'm not very good at it), but I took this picture of sunflowers when my friend Laura and I picnicked at Lake Hefner one evening.

10. Speaking of Laura, this picture cracks me up. Inevitably, I have my eyes closed at least once when I'm trying to take a picture with someone. My facial expression combined with the closed eyes makes this a sure favorite.

11. It always takes Randel and I about 17 tries to take a decent picture of ourselves. For this reason, we have very few pictures of the two of us, and even fewer ones I like. But I think this one is pretty good. It was taken at Thunder Alley...the night the shooting happened. So there's that.

12. My bestie, Jennifer, and I treated ourselves to dinner at our favorite restaurant (A&E) many many times in college. This is a picture from one such evening. In other news, I miss my long hair...

Happy 10.11.12, everyone!

What's Up Wednesday

I'm milking this weekly feature thing for all it's worth this month. So from now on/until I forget to continue this, you can check out "What's Up Wednesday" to find out what's up with me.

Books: Confessions of a Shopaholic and Deja Dead. I haven't gotten far enough into the latter to give a good verdict, but from what I can gather from chapter 1, Kathy Reichs is awesome with description. And while I can see people being annoyed with Becky Bloomwood of Confessions of a Shopaholic, I find myself identifying with her justifications, because I've used the same excuses many times. Not necessarily pertaining to shopping, but I often binge on Sundays because I'm "starting a diet" Monday. I'm sure I'll have more to say next week.

Food: Well, I haven't made it yet, but dinner tonight is sausage/potato burritos, topped with a mountain of shredded cheese and wrapped in a crisped-to-perfection tortilla. This is one of my favorite meals. Not only does it feed me for about three days, but it could not be easier to make (simply saute diced potatoes and Polish sausage until they're kinda crispy, throw a tortilla in a skillet and crisp it up on both sides, and voila) and it's slap-your-mama good. No lie.

Clothing: Today I was a walking Maurice's ad. I was clad in Maurice's brands from head to foot--shirt, vest, jeans, and boots. Maybe they should start paying me to shop there...

TV: "Modern Family" and "Criminal Minds" are on the agenda for tonight, of course. Thank goodness my fall shows are back. I've missed Jess and the guys, the Dunphy family, Derek Morgan (oh, and the rest of the agents), and Leonard and the gang.

And that's all, folks. Check back next Wednesday to find out what else is up with me.

The Push-Up Challenge

Last night, a friend of mine (a personal trainer and fellow Zumba instructor) posted a push-up challenge on Facebook. Before really thinking about what I was committing to, I commented “I’m in!” Exclamation point and everything.

The goal: 100 push-ups a day
Approximate number of push-ups I can do at one time without collapsing: 3

Herein lies the problem.

Nevertheless, I’m going to stick with it. I’m not actually sure how long we’re doing this challenge—my guess is through October—but I’m going to do 100 push-ups a day for at least the next 22 days.

I actually started last night around 9:00. As soon as I pressed “send” on my comment, I was all, “You got this, A-Dawg (college nickname; don’t judge)! Your arms are gonna be so toned your legs are gonna be jealous! Let’s do this right now. Fifty push-ups…and go!”

After two push-ups, I was all, “Curse your over-ambitiousness, Ash! Dawn (challenge issuer) is a trainer. She probably tells Walmart cashiers to drop and give her twenty when they're moving too slow. What were you thinking?!” Multiple punctuation (otherwise known as an interrobang) necessary.

What I was thinking was that every time I shimmy in Zumba, I’m disgusted by how my “hello, good-bye” arms continue to wave even after I’ve moved on to the Wop.

And with that in mind, I cranked out my 50 push-ups last night (10 at a time) and 30 before work this morning.

And every routine task was made more difficult. I could barely hold my arms up to fix my hair today. Several times I even had to rest my arm on top of my head to give it a rest. Reaching my purse down from the shelf above my cubicle? Embarrassingly difficult.

And forget about stretching. While normally relaxing and calming, stretching today was a form of torture.

I just have to keep telling myself that super-sexy arms are worth a few days of pain.

So when I got home from work, I put my stuff away, greeted Deuce, and dropped to the floor to bang out another 10 push-ups. And I'm pretty sure I pulled a pectoral muscle on push-up numero uno.

This doesn't bode well for the rest of the challenge, but I won't let something like a possibly imagined muscle tear stop me from getting the arms of Michelle Obama.

Photo courtesy of gawker.com

Ooh...maybe then I'll be invited to do push-ups on stage with Ellen...

Miscellaneous Monday

I came across something in Walmart yesterday that made me stop in my tracks. I literally did a double take because I thought, Surely I didn't just see what I think I saw.

I tawt I taw a Buty Pant. I did, I did taw a Buty Pant.

Uh...what the what is a buty? Does it rhyme with "duty," or is it supposed to be pronounced like "beauty?" In an effort to find out more about this ridiculous yet intriguing product, I Googled it and found some reviews. For your reading pleasure, I have a few of the best ones:
 

"I bought the Buty Pant at Walmart today to try to help my poor sad flat bum in jeans."
 

"My 16 year old tried them on and was laughing because her regular butt is hanging out below the fake one!"
 

"The pads are pretty high up or maybe I am just used to having my butt so low."

Here are my observations about these reviews:

1. There's some terrible punctuation--or lack of, more accurately--happening here. (I'm still an editor at heart.)

2. Much to my dismay, people have actually bought the Buty Pant to try to "fake it til they make it."

3. Clearly, these people have never heard of TMI.

4. Will I ever be so derriere desperate as to purchase a product that hides the fact that my bum has disappeared...until I am forced to undress? Dear Lord, please no.

I'd like to give a shout-out to the makers of the Buty Pant. It was an entertaining find on an otherwise uneventful grocery shopping trip.

*If you or someone you know has been the unfortunate victim of Buty Pant fraud, please contact me immediately. I could use a good laugh.