WorldWideWaterCooler

No, not the fitness blitz that Neil and I started. This is an entirely different regimen.

I realized last Friday night that I am completely and utterly ill prepared for a trip to the UK.

I have completely and utterly lost any and all ability to hold my liquor.

I thought the Cinco de Mayo tequila bender was an isolated affair.

But then this past New Year’s Eve, half a bottle of wine and 2 glasses of champagne had me tossing my caviar mere moments into 2007.

And then on Friday night, 3 pints of beer (which would be nothing less than a year ago: witness - the amount of soju and beer consumed in Korea without repercussion) knocked me so flat on my arse that despite the 3 attempts it took to expunge the ale-soaked poutine from my body, I still had to “sleep” sitting-up on the couch, because the damn room refused to stop spinning. And I didn’t start feeling any sort of normal until well after noon the next day.

Considering I’m about to be let loose in a country with nearly as many pubs as people, this most certainly Will. Not. Do.

So I have put myself on a strict training regimen.

Starting tonight, I will drink beer, EVERY NIGHT, in increasing amounts until we leave. I have 8 days to get myself back into respectable drinking shape and avoid completely embarrassing myself on one of the UK’s omnipresent public cameras.

Combined with this, I’ll actually attempt to continue to get up and exercise each morning; the better to get used to hauling my sorry arse out of bed and doing something, even (and especially!) when I feel like doing anything but, and also to ensure that I still fit into my jeans (beer has serious calories!) when we leave.

And now, considering what very well may be the biological implications of such an endeavor, I am finally glad we have the awful rental apartment carpets that we do. I’d hate to do that kind of damage to our new hardwood.

Oh my hell.

I love snowboarding, I really do - what I don’t love are the typical injuries that come along with it.

I know most snow sports are inherently dangerous, and to date I’ve still hurt myself far worse skiing than I ever have snowboarding.

But Sunday I took a tumble, and my poor coccyx (tailbone) took the brunt of the impact. It’s bruised and kinda swollen. And this is one of those times that being bootylicious is a liability, rather than an asset: every time the rest of my butt moves, the swollen tissue is forced to adapt, and vehemently expresses its displeasure at that fact.

Do you know how often your butt moves during the course of a day? I bet you never thought of it before, but think about what happens to all that fat and muscle between your lower back and upper thighs when you sit, stand, walk or shimmy. Did you know that the connective tissues around your coccyx move substantially when you contract your sphincter? Yah, neither did I, until Sunday afternoon.

So now, in spite of taking enough ibuprofin to choke a horse and being on a near constant Robax high, I present to you a (far from complete) list of things that still hurt like a sonofabitch:

-Sitting on anything (chair, car seat, bench, couch, toilet - go ahead and contemplate that last one for a second)
-Getting from sitting to standing and back again
-Walking
-Lying on either side or my back
-Getting up from lying on my stomach (so far I can’t levitate my way to standing)
-Rolling over in bed
-Bending over to put on socks and shoes
-Farting

And do you have any idea how many people bump into you while standing on the bus? I’ve already established that sitting on bus seats right now is somewhere approaching the 7th circle of hell - but standing isn’t much better. I get nailed from all angles, then have to make sudden movements to steady myself, or risk falling (again) on my ass. None of which are terribly comfortable.

And while the idea of heading up the mountain tonight is a complete write-off, I really hope that I’ve healed enough by next weekend, so I can go out and do it all over again.

I do believe I’m getting sick.

I have perpetually dry eyes, a cough, exhaustion, sniffles - I figured it was just a matter of time.

Problem is, I haven’t had the time to slow down enough to just get sick! I was really feeling ill on Friday, had a busy weekend, and was a mess on Monday.

I figured Tuesday or Wednesday morning I’d be down for the count.

But nooooooooo.

So far, I still feel just fuzzy and off enough to be annoyed, but not actually sick.

Anyone have any ideas of what I can do to fully bring on some sort of plague, complete with raw, runny nose, body aches, and maybe a bronchial rattle?

I figure the sooner I get sick, the sooner I can hurry up and feel better.

Because this cold and flu season purgatory really sucks.

I was out shopping with Neil last night, picking up a few things at the local pharmacy.

Since I had Gravol on my list, and had already been tasked with picking out an appropriate bubble bath for his new soaker tub, I asked him to run and grab some for me.

He picks up the Gravol, throws it in the basket, we check out and go home.

So imagine my surprise when I actually looked at the package and saw something was not quite right with the wording. Check out the picture and see if you can figure it out.

His response when I pointed out his error? To laugh maniacally and say “Good luck with that!” of course. Jackass.

At least there wasn’t an urgent need for the medication, and I can return them for something a little more appropriate.

In the meantime, all either one of us has to do is utter the word “Gravol” and we burst out laughing uncontrollably. So those weirdos busting a gut over there about absolutely nothing? That’s us. Nothing to be alarmed about, just carry on with your business.

I never realized how handy that whole “opposable thumb” thing was, until one of them ceased working after I managed to fall upon it.

And so I present to you, a list of things I’ve found great difficulty doing today. An (L) behind each thing denotes the fact that I ended up having to attempt the movement left handed, (I am right handed, and not even slightly ambidextrous):

-Wash Hair
-Get bodywash onto pouf (L)
-Brush Teeth (L)
-Dry Hair with towel
-Brush hair (L) (have abandoned blow-drying, straightening and make-up today)
-Button jeans
-Do Up Bra (it’s seriously a miracle I’m dressed today)
-Scoop leftover pasta into tupperware for lunch (L)
-Unlock Car (L)
-Start Car
-Put car in gear (thank god it’s an automatic!) (L)
-Release E-brake (L)
-Drive
-Hold & Drink Coffee (L)
-Unlock my office (L)
-Hit Spacebar (L)
-Write (can’t do lefthanded - have adopted chicken scratch when necessary, otherwise have abandoned it entirely)
-Eat Lunch (L)
-Answer phone (because I grab at it without thinking - the whole grasping motion in general is not so good today - then recoil in pain)

I’m R.I.C.E.ing it for 5 minutes every 30-45 minutes, so I’m hoping it heals up relatively quickly.

However, I’m pretty glad I have a fairly private office, because I look like a big dork as I whimper with my hand stuck straight up in the air holding an ice pack.

Diet Pepsi’s new Brown & Bubbly schtick isn’t going over so well with me.

For someone who’s a lifelong sufferer of IBS, the phrase brings up thoughts of anything BUT (no pun intended) diet soda.

I’m just sayin’…

Anyone who knows me, knows I appreciate good food. I do consider myself a bit of a foodie. Perhaps even a food snob.

However, were other foodies to find out about some of my guilty pleasures, my status would be immediately cancelled, and I’d be ostracized for crimes against reasonable cuisine.

I’m going to risk it.

Looking back, I blame it all on my mother. I was blessed to have a Stay at Home Mom until I was well into my teens. She’s a great cook, and always made me eat a healthy breakfast, packed a nutritious lunch, and had a balanced dinner on the table when my dad came home from work. Pizza nights at my house didn’t happen because she was too tired to cook - they happened as a treat because everyone genuinely wanted pizza.

Sounds pretty good, right?

All of this comes with a dark side.

Because there was always such an abundance of quality good and mostly good for me food around (because really, a house is not a home without cookies!), certain things were pretty much outlawed.

And now, of course, since I’m allegedly a grownup and have full reign over my own pantry the following items that I was never fed as a child make regular appearances in my diet:

- Lunchables
- Handy Snacks
- Pop Tarts
- Sugary Cereals
- Pizza Pops
- Chef Boyardee
- Eggo Waffles
- Kraft Singles

I’m sure there are quite a few other non-nutritive offenders out there that I’ve forgotten, but you get the gist.

I don’t make a regular habit of eating these, but if I’m especially ill or stressed out, I seem to crave them. I suppose the total lack of nutritional content or anything challenging to digest makes them a popular caloric option for an upstet tummy.

So if you see me chowing on white bread grilled cheese sandwiches or eggo waffles, you know something’s up.

And if you have any brilliant ideas about how to make me feel this way about something like broccoli, please pass them on.

And whatever you do, please don’t tell my mom!

Since my usual gym is undergoing renovations, I’ve been a) slacking off and b) occasionally venturing out to another gym when I feel like I can’t take the sloth any more. Turns out the “other gym” is actually Colene’s gym.

Oh my god everything she says about the place is TRUE. The prissy girls, the meatheads, the inconsiderate, idiotic gym users. ALL OF IT.

The meatheads are especially bad. When I ask if you’re using a bench, I don’t mind if you say yes, and actually use it as part of your weight lifting routine. But when you use it as a perch upon which to preen and gossip with your friends, while occasionally picking up a 20lb dumb-bell (which, dude, *I* can lift those - you’re not impressing anyone), I’m going to give you stink-eye.

I have to say the highlight of my evening though, was encountering some dude on the rowing machine. Now most people at a gym have ZERO clue how to use a rowing machine. I’ll admit, it’s not easy to use properly, and VERY EASY to look like an absolute tool on and actually cause yourself some serious injury. This is why most people tend to stay away from them in favour of the eliptical or treadmill.

But not Mister Steeler! (he was decked out in Pittsburgh garb head to toe). He looked like the High School Quarterback gone bad. Big, beefy dude with no neck and beady little eyes. Though he wasn’t so much solid as he was just big. He’s what Samoans would look like if they were red-headed Irish giants, instead of Polynesian.

Dude was using the machine to do some bastardized version of a bicep curl. As if heaving on the chain while gliding back and forth on his ass was actully doing anything for his arms (hint, it doesn’t. Improper use of a rowing machine will just isolate all the pressure in your lower back and hurt you). Then he decided to switch it up, and started pulling the chain up over his head! It looked like he was half rowing, half doing the wave!

That’s when I lost it. I couldn’t help it… I broke down hysterically laughing then and there. On the gym floor. Out loud busted a gut at the meathead on the rowing machine.

He glared.

I tried to apologize… I said “Sorry… I think you just won some sort of award for Most Creative Use of an Ergometer.”

Meathead: “Erg…. what?… (more glaring)”

Me: “Ergometer… Rowing Machine… Nevermind…”

And I giggled all the damn way to the weight room to find some other meathead to amuse me.

Thanks to going hardcore with the extracurricular activities, I’m in a world of hurt today.

It’s the hurts-so-good kinda hurt, but still… ow.

So why is it that I’ve been sitting around whining since about 8:00am, and just now (at 3:37pm) realized that hey, maybe I should take some Advil?

Obviously because I am a big dork. Is there any other explanation?

Usually I cruise through life doin’ what I do, and don’t think too much of it. Then every once in a while, a series of seemingly unrelated events come together and the universe gives me a big kick in the arse and says “This is how it all fits. This is what you’re meant to do.”

Unrelated events:
-Undertook the Weekend to End Breast Cancer, August 2004. Raised $2200 and walked 60kms over 2 days.
-Decided that walking was ok, but I’d rather try to run a half-marathon. Been training off and on since December 2004 and volunteered for Adidas Vancouver International Marathon in April 2005.
-Started planning for a potential trip to New Orleans for Mardi Gras 2006 in May 2005.
-Dad diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes June 14, 2005.

Then, in my email inbox yesterday: An invitation to register to join Team Diabetes at the New Orleans Mardi Gras Marathon.

I’ve never before felt so strongly that there is something I’m meant to do. That all those things I did before were leading up to this. But it’s a damn scary prospect. The running will be tough; raising $5800 in 6 months is a far more daunting task.

But I think I can…

… do my allergies come out when it rains?

Le Ow.

I’m sure all the ladies in the house know that we should be feeling ourselves up on a regular monthly basis, to check for any abnormalities.

But do the boys know they should do the same?

Here’s a little clip that will… stimulate… your memory, and encourage you to… touch yourself.

Give it a Go.

Did you hug your mom yesterday? I did.

But now, the allergies have gotten the better of me. I did not sleep. And now I am home. For now I’m going back to bed - but leave a kind comment!

Actually, I’ll probably be really bored by the time 1:00pm rolls around, so everyone who leaves a comment today gets a response! How’s that for a Monday Treat!

I am so tired, I could cry.

I wish I knew what was wrong with me. Because it’s a problem when 9 hours of sleep still isn’t enough.

I don’t think I’m anemic. I’m exercising. I eat reasonably well.

This sucks.

I think I need to give in to the fact that I may have spring allergies.

I’ve been sneezing like a mofo for at least three weeks. For the past few days, my eyes have been dry and hurty (I haven’t even been wearing my contacts). I wake up in the morning groggy and snotty.

I’ve never had allergies before, nobody in my family does, so I’m totally unfamiliar with what to do about the symptoms. Should I be taking something or seeing someone about this? If so, who, what, where?