I don't know what summer does to me, but without fail I revert back to my bad eating habits of my college days. During the year, I do pretty well with at least feigning to eat healthy. Then summer hits, and boom...its coronary city. Let me tell you what I've had for lunch the last couple days...
Spaghettios using Pringles as a spoon...mmmmm (I'm hungry an hour later).
For dinner tonight...
A hamburger with a chocolate chip cookie to follow and a doughnut from Krispy Kreme.
Last night (this will make Sara proud)...
I ate a whole thing of Sour Patch Kids...by myself...in a half hour.
The summer sun has got me craving the sweets.
I will say I have not gone back to soda and I eat Grape Nuts every morning and drink a glass of Florida's best orange juice.
I also had a bowl of cantaloupe with my bowl of chili-mac last night.
Competitive eating has never looked sweeter to me.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Friday, July 25, 2008
This One Time at Band Camp...I Lost my Mind
Let me preface this post by saying we are truly blessed by our living situation. Ben's job allows us to live in an apartment rent-free. Nice situation, right? Yes, it is. We don't pay rent or utilities or internet or anything. I mean it doesn't get much better. I thank the Lord for this opportunity at this point in our lives. That being said...
Our apartment is in a dorm building where 300 other students live from September to May. We coexist peacefully with these blessed students. We hear occasional rounds of wrestling up stairs, and there are only a handful of times when I look at Ben and say, "Do you think someone just died upstairs?" To which he replies, "Eh."
Living with these 300 college students for most of the year is fine.
But for one weekend every summer, my inner-Mr. Hyde comes out. For one weekend every summer, a large band camp lives in our building for several days, and I weigh whether or not it would be acceptable to storm upstairs in my pajamas, hair askew, and scream obscenities at innocent high school students for interrupting my precious, precious REM cycle. I know when they have arrived because at 9:00 a.m. (when I'm still sleeping...b/c I get to b/c I wake up at 5:00 a.m. during the school year so get off my back) someone starts playing the drums in the bedroom above our bedroom. Loud, loud drums. That weekend, my friends, has arrived. They are here.
Riddle me this Internet (and I know that I teach high schoolers for a living): why do high schoolers have to scream their conversations with one another across a courtyard? Why? WHY? Why does it take an HOUR to walk from our building to the track across the street (where they practice)? Why does the smallest kid always play the tuba? The smallest kid with a brace on his leg? What?
I'm all for the arts in education, but ummm...not in my place of residence.
Oh Band Camp, you are the bane of my existence.
Our apartment is in a dorm building where 300 other students live from September to May. We coexist peacefully with these blessed students. We hear occasional rounds of wrestling up stairs, and there are only a handful of times when I look at Ben and say, "Do you think someone just died upstairs?" To which he replies, "Eh."
Living with these 300 college students for most of the year is fine.
But for one weekend every summer, my inner-Mr. Hyde comes out. For one weekend every summer, a large band camp lives in our building for several days, and I weigh whether or not it would be acceptable to storm upstairs in my pajamas, hair askew, and scream obscenities at innocent high school students for interrupting my precious, precious REM cycle. I know when they have arrived because at 9:00 a.m. (when I'm still sleeping...b/c I get to b/c I wake up at 5:00 a.m. during the school year so get off my back) someone starts playing the drums in the bedroom above our bedroom. Loud, loud drums. That weekend, my friends, has arrived. They are here.
Riddle me this Internet (and I know that I teach high schoolers for a living): why do high schoolers have to scream their conversations with one another across a courtyard? Why? WHY? Why does it take an HOUR to walk from our building to the track across the street (where they practice)? Why does the smallest kid always play the tuba? The smallest kid with a brace on his leg? What?
I'm all for the arts in education, but ummm...not in my place of residence.
Oh Band Camp, you are the bane of my existence.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
I'm Not Dead Yet (part deux)
Hey friends...so I've been an uber let down to myself as far as keeping up on my blog. I've had no motivation whatsoever this last month and a half. I think I'm suffering from burnout. I have been keeping track of witty, non-sensical things that pop into my head and I say "hmmm...I should write that on my blog." For example:
1. What the frick is up with this "summer weather"? Huh, Al Gore? Huh? I mean don't get me wrong. Anything is better than 12 inches of snow, but I want hot days...I didn't live in the desert for 10 years for nothing. My body needs hot weather, lest it die.
2. Why must celebrities pick out the most obscure names? It's not even fascinating anymore. You are not going against the norm if you name your baby something weird and you're a celebrity. If I were a celebrity, I would name my child Pete or Bob.
3. Why did God create us to have gas? And if we all have it, why is it so taboo to excrete it in front of others? I'm just saying, I think we should take pride in the stinkiness of our gas.
4. What is a parkway?
5. How come women with dark hair are cursed with dark leg hair that grows at a phenomenal rate? I mean I shave at 9:00 a.m. and by 4:00 p.m. I could honestly compete with Robin Williams for hairiest person alive.
Okay, that's all with the sage ponderings of yours truly.
I was in Boston last week, so I'll post pictures soon. Get ready for a treat. And by treat I mean 10 pictures of where the Revolutionary War started.
1. What the frick is up with this "summer weather"? Huh, Al Gore? Huh? I mean don't get me wrong. Anything is better than 12 inches of snow, but I want hot days...I didn't live in the desert for 10 years for nothing. My body needs hot weather, lest it die.
2. Why must celebrities pick out the most obscure names? It's not even fascinating anymore. You are not going against the norm if you name your baby something weird and you're a celebrity. If I were a celebrity, I would name my child Pete or Bob.
3. Why did God create us to have gas? And if we all have it, why is it so taboo to excrete it in front of others? I'm just saying, I think we should take pride in the stinkiness of our gas.
4. What is a parkway?
5. How come women with dark hair are cursed with dark leg hair that grows at a phenomenal rate? I mean I shave at 9:00 a.m. and by 4:00 p.m. I could honestly compete with Robin Williams for hairiest person alive.
Okay, that's all with the sage ponderings of yours truly.
I was in Boston last week, so I'll post pictures soon. Get ready for a treat. And by treat I mean 10 pictures of where the Revolutionary War started.
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