Last Post for November

My goodness. Is it November 30th already? The month has just flown by, hasn't it? Today is the last day of NaBloPOMo. Thanks for continuing to tune in because believe me, I know how lackluster some of my posts were.

So many things happened this month that I feel a little like Dorothy spinning around in the tornado.

Even though I knew that the colder weather was coming, I was still surprised at how crisp our mornings became. If I had known that my last ride on Big Boy was going to be it for the season, I would have made myself savour it even more (if that's possible). There are those people that ride through the winter months but that won't be me. I despise the cold. There is hope, however. Dallas told me that we can expect approximately ten days during the winter where it will be warm enough to ride. I hope so. Every couple of days, I sneak into the garage and turn the engine over just to sit on the bike and hear the pipes rumble. I am a total dork.

The big deal. It came together and it's a doozy. I can't believe it, really. I don't want to send negative vibes out into the universe but I'm walking around with this feeling like I need someone to pinch me awake. I can't quite get my mind around what this will mean for my family. And I am profoundly grateful.

The gym. I've started up again and it's like going home. I feel good about this decision on a bunch of different levels. This is the first time in my life that I'm not polishing off my workout with a cigarette on the ride home. In a week, the regular activity has already affected the way my pants fit. I'm not really the kind of girl to do something half way (some might classify this as obsessive/impulsive/compulsive) so I expect to be successful in this quest for total health. Right now, the physical, mental and financial parts of my life are looking pretty rosy. Which leaves the emotional.

Dallas. We haven't really discussed what it was that moved us off the friends path but I don't care. I'm happy. We had dinner last night and conversation was so easy even though there were a couple of subjects that could have been uncomfortable like our respective dating lives while we were apart. Again, I'm not interested in analyzing the situation. I just want to let my feelings dictate my response and so far, it's all good.

November was very kind to me and I am mindful once again of how fortunate I am. I will not squander my blessings.

Is This Really Entertainment?

I did something last night that I rarely get the chance to do. Not THAT, silly.

TV. I watched it. Live. Commercials and all. And wow, the pharmaceutical industry must be making money hand over fist because during one commercial break from the evening news, three separate drug ads came on, one right after the other.

Depressed? No problem. Suffer from chronic constipation? See your doctor. Heart condition and have the common cold? Look for the medicine with the heart RIGHT ON THE BOX (so says S. Epatha Merkerson). It was slightly ironic that these came on during the news because Katie Couric did a segment for a week long piece called "Generation RX", detailing the epidemic of young people addicted to prescription drugs. What a surprise because if you've got an ailment, by god there's a pill for it.

After the news, I tuned into TMZ. When did this Internet favourite get it's own time slot? I was blown away. Celebrity gossip on steroids. For me, shows like this are a bit like a car wreck. You don't want to look, but you can't help yourself. The thing that arrested me was when they highlighted celebrities who were just trying to get a coffee or cross the street like the rest of us. The camera panned back far enough so that you could see the MOB of photographers snapping away and nearly chasing the flavour of the moment down the street. I know that celebrities make gobs of money and that they understand that losing their anonymity is the price of success but geez...I feel sorry for them. I think it would bite to have hordes of cameras in your face like that following you everywhere you went. I do have one question, though. When did Melanie Griffith start looking leonine? And Carrot Top? He gives Michael Jackson a run for freak of the century. I learned several things and each of them caused me to feel a bit queasy.

1. New show called, "Celebrity Rehab" has either debuted or will be sometime soon. This, of course, is just what America needs because we aren't neurotic and narcissistic enough. Throw in second shot at that elusive fifteen minutes of fame and presto! casting agents will FINALLY take note because nothing says manageable insurance risk like a successful stint at rehab.

2. Danny Bonaduce apparently wants to pose for Penthouse (you read that right)because nude photos that surfaced of him sometime this year were not especially flattering. Perhaps he is hoping better lighting might augment enhance his assets. Whatever. Pass the bucket.

3. OJ and his Las Vegas posse have plead "Not Guilty". Shocking! I sure didn't see that one coming.

So that was my evening. I figured that I deserved some entertainment after punishing myself at the gym but I think that in the future, I'll stick to TIVO.

It Ain't Your Mama's Dating Experience

When exactly do two people move from the generic term, "dating" to something more substantial? What the hell is dating?

I have this apparently antiquated notion of dating as something Richie, Potsy and Ralph did. You know what I 'm talking about. Week after week they saw several different girls and had these apple pie adventures at the drive in. It was all very innocent. There was hand holding and some kissing but nobody ever talked about a commitment. When one of them really, really liked a girl, he gave her his class ring or his letterman sweater and voilà, they were going steady.

Fast forward to today. Everyone uses the term dating to describe everything from a one night hook up to a serious relationship. One of the women at work has been seeing the same man exclusively for over a year. She says they're dating. Well...

I guess I'm dating, too. And surprisingly, I like it this way. I will admit that the course of this relationship doesn't fall within my normal pattern. In the past, I have allowed myself to be swept up in the promise of what could be rather than what was. With Dallas, our lives have dictated that we take things slowly. Both of us are single parents. We both have demanding jobs. We have very full lives steeped with obligations exclusive of our relationship. Yet somehow, we have managed in the last week and a half to make room for "us". And I'm grateful that after four months, we finally have landed here. There is commitment that doesn't need to be discussed or labeled. We have made plans that are better than a month in the future but I don't find myself needing to put my head between my legs to stave off hyperventilation. The unspoken rule is one day at a time.

Last night Dallas said, "Let's see what develops naturally" in reference to something unrelated to the status of our relationship. After he left, I realized that as a couple, we are doing just that and so far, I don't feel the need to run away.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go find some salt and some wood.

On Becoming a Gym Rat

I had a pretty challenging Monday at work. I sat in front of my computer for most of the day trying desperately to get my arms around the number of projects sitting on my desk. Some days, it's all I can do to cross one or two things off my "Hot List".

Please don't misunderstand. I am NOT complaining because if there aren't any irons in the fire, I'm not making money. Busy is good but stretched to the limit is testing every last brain cell that still occupies my head. I'm afraid to sneeze.

Yesterday, I grabbed the kids from school, turned up the music and tried to get home early so that I could get dinner started and get to the gym. Olivia and I spent over an hour there. She coloured with her friends and I worked my chest and abs until I couldn't breathe. Even though I think up a million reasons why I don't want to go, I am always so happy that I did after I'm done.

That's the trouble with middle age. If you allow it, there is this insidious complacency that develops. Of course as we age, health becomes a greater concern but it's so easy to tell yourself that there is just not enough time in the day to make it to the gym. I will admit that spending time there is causing me to have to be a better meal planner but other than that, all of the excuses that I have used for the past several months have flown right out the window.

As I sit typing this, my arms are visibly shaking and my abdominal muscles are sore. But it's all good and I'll be back there later on today for a little cardio.

A Tale of Two Girls

Oh God!

It hurts!

Remember my little workout on Saturday? Oh yeah. There is nothing in the world like a great workout to make you feel every last shooter, cigarette and all nighter that you've ever had in your entire life. I'm dying. But it's a good pain and after I pick the kids up from school today, I fully intend to drag my forty year old ass back to the gym.

(bikinibikinibikinibikinibikini)

One thing I forgot to mention yesterday was that I spent part of the time at the mall trying to find a new holster or two for the girls. TOTALLY DEMORALIZING. I am not ready for Victoria's Very Sexy just yet. I have lost a pant size but the girls seem to be content to settle in for the winter. They're not interested in downsizing from a house into a condo and thus, I have become a letter "P". While this may be appealing to boob men, can you understand how difficult it is to buy a dress or a two piece outfit? The bottom is one size and the top is a couple of sizes larger. So fit the top and lose every curve from the waist down or fit the bottom and look like a sausage in a too-tight casing on top. In a dress if the ladies are comfortable, I could have a three ring circus happening in the tent below and nobody would be the wiser.

I have watched the occasional episode of Dr. 90210 and there is no way that a reduction is in my future. EVER. So, today I will focus on chest exercises in valiant but largely useless effort to get the girls to conform.