Wherin I have a Broken Heart

Name: Charles
Description: Beloved stuffed penguin
Age: 24 years old
Last seen: the rumpled bed at a fine hotel in Scottsdale, AZ

He's lost! My most treasured and oldest possession is lost! I am beside myself.

I know you all think that my the only inanimate friend in my life is Mustard. But no. Long before Mustard there was Charles. And now ... Charles is LOST!! It's really probably the worst thing that has ever happened to me in my entire life. I'm NOT KIDDING.

Think of it like this: If my life were Toy Story (and let's face it, I really do secretly believe that all inanimate objects have secret lives when I'm not around), Charles is Woody and Mustard is Buzz. So while Buzz is funny and weird and oh so hilarious to write about in a blog, it's Woody that is the heart of the operation. Charles is like that. He's stable, and understanding, and lets me cry on his shoulder and use him as a neck pillow. He's cool like that. As long as I'm happy, his crinkly little eyes are still happy.

Since I was twelve, Charles has been there for it all. In the montage flashback, in addition to the sappy hugging and eskimo kisses that go without saying between a girl and her stuffed penguin, these are the images you'd see :

• Throwing him up in the air by his little wings doing flips and twists in the Penguin Olympics
• Performing "Electric Charles" - a static electricity light show that was popular during my college years
• Riding shotgun during many roadtrips, serving as Co-Pilot and Navigator
  
• Arriving in a cramped shoebox in Santiago, Chile. My Mom sent him to me because I was so home sick. He single-handedly saved me from a nervous break down.
• Listening patiently while I cry and rant about one thing or another ... men, or work, or well ok, mostly work.
  

When I started this three month hotel stay, I brought Charles with me as a little piece of home. I checked in and out of about 15 hotels as I bounced across the country. Yesterday I checked out of the last one and went to go get the keys to the home I have purchased. The journey was over! And as I was unpacking the 3 suitcases I've been living out of I suddenly realized that I hadn't packed him. He had been left in the bed. I HAD LEFT CHARLES!! No mother who left her child at a gas station has felt worse than I did. Well, I didn't even think twice before grabbing my keys and driving to the hotel. A phone call just wouldn't do.

But no luck. They couldn't find him. I'm still holding out hope, calling every day ... but you know know the stats. If they don't find missing people within 24 hours the chances diminish significantly. I'm sure that the maid just thought he was so damn cute she had to keep him.

I'm brokenhearted. And yeah, I'm too old to still have a stuffed animal. And you gotta cut the cord some time. But I can't believe I am starting over in a new city, and I don't have my most constant companion to begin my new adventure with me. I love that little guy.

I'm sad.

To the low pressure system in Rio de Janeiro: You're on Notice!

Remember back when I said that I had 4 months to get ready for my trip? Remember how that felt like a REALLY long time? Plenty of time to procrastinate and STILL have lots of time to get ready.

Yeah.

Procrastinating sort of dominated the last 3.5 months.

Here we are just one week away from departure date. As a matter of fact, my plane to Rio will be leaving right about now next Wednesday night. If I'm as sleepy then as I am now (and the 2 Tylenol PM earmarked for the occasion will ensure that I am) then I will have no trouble snoozing away at least half of the 14 hour flight.

I am getting crazy excited to go. The countdown is absolutely on. Especially now that we've entered into Weather.com's 10 day forecast range. So far looks like it's a titch more on the rainy side than my travel brochures promised. BETTER STEP IT UP RIO!! I'm coming and I expect to do some serious sun bathing on your famous beaches. You would be well advised to not disappoint me.

Some Thoughts While My Beets Cook

I put some beets in to roast about two hours ago and there they are ... still a-roastin. While I wait for them to be easily piercable, I figured I might as well share some of the random thoughts that have been rattlin' around the old bean.

First of all, and while we're on the topic of beets, which I have an unbounded love for, I'm reminded that I also have an unbounded love for buying any vegetables at all from a farmers market. Cooking and eating them I'm not so fond of. But buying! Buying from the farmers market is so satisfying. With any luck I'll actually eat what I bought this week: Wax beans, zucchini, beets, arugula, mesclun greens, and some honeycrispalicious Honeycrisp apples. If not, meh, I can always buy some more next week. I can hardly wait!

Second of all, my Halloween weekend was Phenom. I went back to my old stompin ground in Capitol Hill to do my farmer's market shopping before the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear. The rally was great! It was a good old-fashioned DC Crowd Feeling Event. We could hear and see (mostly), the weather was perfect, our neighbors were friendly, and the crowd in general was good humored and unfailingly polite. A finer rally has rarely been had. Plus I got to see Ozzy and Kid Rock in concert ... two things I could have sworn on my dead aunt Ethel's grave would never happen. To tell the truth, I wouldn't have been sad if they'd had more Ozzy and less Kid.

The rest of my Halloween weekend was full of parties where I wore my Supergirl costume. It was a pretty awesome costume and a pretty awesome weekend, if I say it myself.



I think my beets are almost done, so I have just one more thought before I wrap up. The other day it was just a normal day. I went shopping to get some hiking shoes for my trip. After I got my shoes I was wandering around the outdoor shopping center. I had been craving the shrimp roll at Coastal Flatts for quite some time, so since I was right there, was a bit peckish, and didn't have a reason to not eat an early dinner, I decided to give into my craving. It was great! Diet coke. Cornbread. Fries with salt. All my favorite things! Afterward, not having much on my agenda I decided I'd see a movie across the way. While I waited for it to start, I sat on a sunny bench and read a really great book. As I was sitting there I thought to myself how much I was enjoying my day. And I reflected that I get to have these types of days pretty regularly. In fact, a day in which I get to do all of the things I want to do, and none of the things I don't want to is pretty typical for me. (The stacks of mail and less than pristine apartment alone attest to this fact). I'm pretty lucky that way, and it occurred to me that instead of being jealous or at the very least slightly wistful looking at the couples out enjoying their day, that I was the one that they (or at least someone, somewhere) should probably be jealous of. I don't want to be like, oh I'm so fab and you should think I'm the bee's knees, but I, we, all of us spend a lot of time thinking about the bad parts of our lives or how our jeans don't fit quite the way we want them to, or how we're not part of a couple on a beautiful afternoon and it just gets to be a habit. So it was a nice sojourn for a little while on my side of the fence where the grass is pretty damn green.

Wherein I am TOTALLY SKEEVED Out

What's it called when you just have to write stuff out to get it out of your system? As like therapy? You know for traumatic events? Is there an official name for that?

If there is, then that's what this post is going to be. Because I am traumatized, friends.

TRAUMA-TIZED!

I am still in this weird city of Austin (thank goodness I'm leaving tomorrow I can't handle anymore weirdness!) and well, let me tell you what happened.

I went to get dinner at this place that has a bunch of food carts in an dirt parking lot. A taco-like place, BBQ, Cupcakes, and some other stuff. (Including this Vietnam Vet musician dude that drives a truck with a skeleton in the passenger seat and "RIP Ministries" written on the door. This is a weird city.) So I get my taco-y thing --tortilla, chicken, coleslaw concoction-- and a fancy root beer in a bottle. I wolf down my meal and decide to get a cupcake to gorge on in the privacy of my hotel room.

So I walk to the end of the strip sipping on my root beer. I order my cupcake and as I'm walking away I start thinking, "I ate so fast I bet I had a bunch of crap stuck in my teeth - ew! Like Totally EMBARRASSING!" So while I walk back to my car I pick my teeth a little bit and suck on them, you know, to get it all squeaky clean.

Then I take a drink of my root beer. And there's something crunchy.

First thought: "Woah! How did I backwash something this big? I'm not a backwasher."

Second thought: "I bet I dripped some of the coleslaw from my taco into my bottle."

Third thought: "Dripping coleslaw into a bottle would be hard. AHHH! Must have been stuck in my teeth."

Fourth thought: "That's a HUGE thing to have stuck in my teeth! The cupcake man must have been laughing his face off at the enormous cabbage leaf stuck in my teeth."

At this point, I decided I needed to examine how embarrassing the Food In Teeth scenario was and I pull out the crunchy thing I'd been chewing while I had all of the above thoughts. And when I pulled it out and looked what did I see?

A BEE!!

I had been chewing on a BEE! I'm totally skeeved out about it. I'm not alergic, and it definitely wasn't alive when it went in. But still! GROOOOOSSSSS.

I bet it flew into my bottle of root beer (attracted by it's sugar cane deliciousness) and drowned a quick death. And then I gulped it in and started noshing away. Blaaaaaa! I want to scrub my mouth with turpentine and a wire brush.

I was so freaked out and distracted on the drive to the hotel I ended up totally lost and 20 miles out of my way.

I hope my insurance covers Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I definitely need it. BLLLLLAHHHHH!

Two Derbies Both Alike in Dignity (and Awesomeness)

Last weekend I went to the Demolition Derby. You KNOW I love the derby, right?

I Do.

I love it super-duper style.

Well. At least I thought I loved it as much as I possibly could. This year's visit included the usual perks:

• Corn Dogs
• Car Fires
• Mullets

All of the things I love.

But now, I have to add MORE things to this list, because this year we also had a car run THROUGH the jersey barrier and CRASH INTO and COLLAPSE the sound system. And a wheel FALL COMPLETELY OFF of a car, only to later IMPALE another car and kill it. Dead. sa-WEEET!

In the world of Demolition Derby it really does not get better than that, friends.

But why go to one derby in a weekend when you can go to TWO?!

I had the good luck to go to Texas and while I was there I went and saw the Texecutioner Rockin-RollerDerby Girls final bout. I am the luckiest girl in the world.

When the mascot/MC was circling the ring in skin-tight white jeans and a blood stained tuxedo shirt waving a running chainsaw and screaming, "TEXAS! TEXAS!" and we all screamed "KILL! KILL! KILL!". Well, that was when I knew going to the RollerDerby was the coolest thing I could have possibly done with my evening.

I *kinda* understood the rules. But I wasn't really there for the rules. I was there for the fights, and the skates to the face, and the costumes. And of course the Frito Pie! I was definitely there for the Frito Pie!

Wherein Heat Stroke Renders Me Unshockable

Last Sunday I was spending some time exploring Austin, TX when a couple of weird things happened. For the most part this visit followed the usual weekend-away format:

1. Find the yummiest brunch spot in the city
2. Visit something naturey like a park or botanical garden
   
3. See any noteworthy attractions or monuments
4. Snack-style lunch
   
5. Walk the streets and get a feel for the people, architecture, etc.
   
6. Boutique shopping in the trendy/spendy parts of town
7. Fancy Dinner somewhere fabulous
8. Wrap up the night with a film or something unique to the area. Or in some cases veg in the hotel. Depends.
   

Well, I was mid-way through number two on the itinerary when I decided that I was WAY to tired to proceed any further until I'd had a nap. So much for "Get an early start on the day, what! what!"

If you don't know me very well, let me just tell you that when I need a nap it is Serious Business. I will generally just lay down wherever I am (as long as it isn't likely that I'll be arrested or get some sort of skin disease) and snooze away. Until I've napped my fill and then I'll just get up and carry on as if nothing had interrupted me.

Anyway, I desperately needed a nap. So I decided to drive downtown to my next stop on the tour, take a little nap, and then carry on with the day. So I did. I parked in the shade near the Capitol and proceeded to take an hour nap. And yes, it was 100+ degrees in Austin that day. And yes, I had the windows up. And yes, if I had been a dog my owner would have been fined 2 million dollars and suspended from the NFL. But when I need a nap I don't always think things through.

So after about an hour of snoozing in the hot car I woke up. And lo and behold, walking in front of my car was a protest. Fifty or so men and women were marching to get equality for women to go topless. There they were: Men Boobs and Women Boobs strolling by my front window. Just like that. Boobs galore!

The weirdest thing about this was how NOT weird it was. Maybe I was just disoriented from my sauna-nap, but as I sat there watching the nipple-parade I was like, "Hmm. Boobs." But I wasn't outraged or grossed out or shocked by seeing women with no tops on walking up Congress Street. As a matter of fact, after I stumbled out of the car and down the street to get a cool soda it was so hot I must admit that stripping to the waist was pretty darn tempting. And despite never having considered that as a cool-down option before I almost did it! When in Rome, right!?

But then I got some cold sugary fluids into my system and my reason was restored. And consequently Austin was spared, er, I mean, DENIED that vision.

TIE Count Down

I have 4 months to get this bucket of bolts in good enough shape to not die on my vacation.

The last couple of weeks have been tough. Two weeks ago I started out strong. Working out. Eating well. But then I went to Texas. And however good Texas food is for the tastebuds, is tremendously BAD for the waist line. And the ghetto-ass hotel I was in on some forelorn highway wasn't offering many work-out options that didn't involve death. So there were some setbacks.

And then last week, even though I was back home, I had very little success. I went to what was perhaps the most worthless yoga class of my life. And then Chick-Fil-A and I started a whirlwind romance.

But now.

Now, it's time to get serious. I went to the gym today to do a little circuit weight training and some cardio. And what I learned was that I am a weak, weak, WEAK girl. I need to get stronger, or I will surely die a painful death in the jungles of Brazil.

Since shame is the only motivator that has any sway for me, I've added a little work-out widget to my blog. Periodically, I'm also going to update this blog with some of the more gory details. We are all in this together!!

Time to go from this:

To THIS: