Made in Richmond

I weighed myself the gym today and I found out that I now weigh 127.6 pounds.  This means I have now lost 12.4 pounds.  I want to get to 125 so my BMI will be 21.8 which is in the middle of the healthy range for my height (a staggering 63.5 inches).  Even if I don’t get there, losing 10 pounds is huge if you are as short as I am.  So I’m very excited.

Here’s a humorous anecdote for you.  I walked out of the gym today, a sweaty and glorious mess as usual.  There was a guy (I don’t want to assume he was homeless, but let’s just say he didn’t look like he was on his way to work…or to shower) standing in the parking lot.  He looked at me and said, “Hey!  So, you’re done working out?”  I turned to look behind me because A)I never think that anyone is talking to me and B)He was talking with the enthusiasm that one would use towards a long-lost best friend who has just dropped down from the sky.  But, no.  It was just me.

“Well, yeah,” I answered.  “I mean, I’m leaving and I wouldn’t be leaving if I weren’t done.”

“Oh, yeah.  So, you’re all finished then?”

“Yeah.  All finished.”

“Then, do you want my sandwich?”  (He had no sandwich, at least not one that I could see.)

“Do you even have a sandwich?”

“No.  Will you give me $2.17 so I can buy one?”

“Sorry, sir.  I don’t have any cash on me.” (Seriously, I didn’t.  My gym clothes don’t have pockets so I had no money on me.  I admired his approach so much that I would have given him whatever I had if that had been anything.)

“Well, you have a blessed day and keep up the good work.  You look nice.”

“You, too.  I hope you get your sandwich.”

I was at work from 8:15 this morning until 6:15 this evening.  Since we will be out of town for our long-planned and much anticipated anniversary trip to Ft. Lewis, I am not going to be at work Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.  Consequently, I had to get myself together for various end of the year hooplah.  I also had to do some major purging because I am not bringing four years of accumulated elementary school junk into to our house.

Today was a typical June day in 5th grade.  Children going insane, forgetting how to behave.  Teachers ripping out their hair and banging their heads against the wall.

After getting home I rested for about 10 minutes and then went to the gym.  We have a church meeting tomorrow night, pot luck Wednesday night, and much eating a drinking planned for our long weekend, so I knew I needed to get some time in so I can avoid a nervous breakdown when stepping on the scale next week.  I did almost an hour of cardio because I was watching some of the Democratic presidential candidates on CNN.

I came home and took a shower and  I am utterly exhausted.  AND I GET TO DO IT ALL TOMORROW!!!!!!

Ross will gladly fold laundry as long as he can watch Star Trek: Voyager while doing it.

Friday:  Dinner with the in-laws at Edible Garden to celebrate their anniversary.  Came home and cleaned furiously for no reason.  Bed.

Saturday:  Met with Sam to talk about finances.  Gym.  Went to Fredericksburg.  Chatted it up.  Ate dinner.  Started to die.  Came home and missed the night of girliness fun.

Sunday:  Slept in.  Gym.  Home to shower and do laundry.  Church.  Quick dinner and much laughing with the Murphies.  Came home.  Did some laundry.  Graded papers.  Time to putter until I go off to bed.

When Ross and I went to see Pirates, they showed a preview for The Golden Compass, a film adaptation of the first book (of the same name) in Phillip Pullman’s His Dark Materials series. I first came across this book in Libby Gruner’s Children’s Literature class at the University of Richmond.

Much to Ross’s dismay, I am not one who typically goes for fantasy/science fiction. The whole concept of having to keep track of the rules in an alternate universe just never appealed to me. Naturally, I wasn’t super-thrilled to find out that Dr. Gruner’s course required me to read a book whose cover I knew would send Ross floating into nerd heaven. But I read it and loved it. I don’t typically read a book in one sitting, but I did with this one. I totally and completely loved it.

I actually felt butterflies in my stomach when I saw the trailer for the film. Nicole Kidman has been perfectly cast as Marisa Coulter and the role of Lyra (seriously, probably second only to Scout Finch on the list of literary characters whom I hope my daughter is exactly like-yes, I have a list like that because I was an English major and I am slightly crazy) is played by Dakota Blue Richards. I can tell already that she is going to be amazing AND she is the most beautiful child I have ever ever seen.

Alas, the movie doesn’t come out until December 7 of this year. So, I’m planning on reading the book over and over and over again to make the wait more bearable.

So I went up to Fredericksburg for the fun ladies’ night and ending up driving home at midnight because my stomach decided to turn itself inside out.

It all started when Maura, Chris, and I went to dinner where I ordered a club sandwich.  Club sandwiches are possibly my most favorite thing on this glorious planet.  Well, they were until tonight.  I don’t know if it’s that I haven’t consumed mayonnaise in months or maybe the restaurant doesn’t like to wash the lettuce, but let’s just say that my body is doing its best to rid itself of any remnants of this sandwich by any means possible.  I knew I should have ordered the falafel.  The falafel is always the right answer.

Now I’m missing out on watching such fabulous films as Material Girls and The Lake House.  And I bet that tickle-fight is happening as we speak.  I just know they are making prank phone calls to the cute boys in our math class while singing “Son of a Preacher Man” into their hairbrushes right at this very moment.   They are so lucky.

Oh well.  At least I still have my goodie bag.

Ross and I will be celebrating our fourth anniversary next week. I guess knowledge of this is prompting people-and by people, I mean pretty much every single person I know-to ask me when we are going to be sharing some “good news.” If you have asked me this recently, please don’t feel bad because you are not the only one by any stretch of the imagination. And some people don’t even mince words anymore. One of my co-workers said to me, “When’s a baby coming? I’ve been waiting FOREVER!” My sister even left a message telling me that I better come back pregnant from our anniversary trip. In all honesty, I appreciate such a direct approach.

It’s strange how “good news” has come to mean babies and babies only when you are a young married. I mean, I think the fact that we got a large tax refund is exciting news. Lindsay Lohan seems to be doing well in rehab, so that’s good. Or can you imagine the looks I would get if I responded to the typical inquiry by rubbing my belly and saying, “We’re so excited! Ross came up with the best recipe for turkey burgers and boy am I full!”

I feel like I get asked this question more than other people do and I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because you all can tell that I’m going to be a fabulous mother with intelligent, well-mannered, and hilarious children and you all can’t wait to see it all unfold. Or maybe it’s because I melt into a puddle of bubbling love when I see a smooshable little one.

So, for the record, no babies yet. I don’t know when the good news will come, but when it does I doubt that I will wait until you ask me about it to fill you in. I will most likely post here before I even let Ross know. Because that’s just how I roll.

I’m going up to Fredericksburg tomorrow night for a ladies’ night.  There will be pajamas, snacking, and much talk about lady parts and babies, I’m sure.  CAN YOU HANDLE IT?!?!?!?

I weighed myself at the gym today and I have lost two more pounds.  I celebrated by eating a donut when I got home.  Hey, I was just satisfied with the fact that I could lose it if I wanted to.