Will Work for Favorable Dicta

When did my life turn awesome?

2009-11-15T18:55:00.000-08:00

My husband pointed out yesterday, as I was sniffing the baby's butt through her clothes to see if she had pooped, that no one really ever talks about the dignity in parenting. And, it's true. I do things now that would have been unthinkable a few years ago. I hold out my hand to catch puke before it hits the floor. I sniff butts. I wipe snot off a tiny nose and then directly onto my jeans. I wear sweatshirts with baby barf on them all day because...well...why bother changing?

So, yeah, the dignity.

And, the weirdest thing is, I love this kid so much that sometimes I think my heart is going to leap out of my chest. She's so funny and amazing. Her personality is so...her. She's not like me or my husband, but she's exactly like herself, and it's awesome. She laughs at all my jokes and cries when she's hungry (which I totally get), and she loves to watch Iron Chef America (just like us! Don't interrupt my stories Mommy!!).

Anyway, I have no idea where this is going. Nowhere probably. I'm drinking wine on an empty stomach, which is, frankly, part of the reason I have a baby in the first place.

More another day.

Where do I even start?

2009-10-12T11:45:00.000-07:00

So, I totally did have a baby! Go me! Little Baby Spatula is now about 10 weeks old and she's totally rad in every possible way. I'm still on maternity leave, which I'm spending watching NCIS marathons on USA Network and eating cookies. And playing with the baby...because, duh...brain development is obviously more important that what's going on with DiNozzo and Ziva. But, seriously, WTF?

We do have a website for the baby. If you still read this blog, and I know who you are, and you'd like the address to the baby website, just drop me a line. Or, it's on my Facebook page, if you are into that kind of thing.

I'm still not sure what I'll do with this blog. I REALLY miss writing, even stupid one-liners about whatever the idiots are doing in the news on any given day. But, I mean...Favorable Dicta? I don't even practice. Starting something new seems sort of prohibitive though. I don't know.

DAMNIT!

2009-08-05T14:20:00.000-07:00

I just accidentally posted to the wrong blog. If you got a copy through a newsfeed, with pictures, please just delete them - huge mistake - those were meant for the grandparent blog that we are keeping up on a different site. I'm such a dummy.

Still pregnant after all these years.

2009-07-21T14:54:00.000-07:00

Yeah - I'm huge, it's in the upper 80's here, and we have no air conditioning.

I am hoping to go into labor at any moment, but so far, the baby really seems happy and content in there - no plans to leave. So, we wait.

My mom is doing awesome in her recovery and is able to have conversations with me on the phone about the baby and is excited that we will bring the baby down to see Grandma and Grandpa about 6 weeks after she's born...whenever that is.

Sigh. I think they make the last couple of weeks of pregnancy so miserable just so that you actually start to look forward to labor. At least the hospital has air conditioning.

Weird

2009-06-23T15:05:00.000-07:00

I am on modified bed rest, so basically two or three days a week, I'm home from work. Sometimes I actually rest, but normally I end up doing all kinds of stuff (chores, baby preparation stuff, doctors appointments, etc). Today I was pre-ordering birth announcement envelopes (my, what a gripping life I do lead!), and watching some old documentary on women over 40 who give birth (probably about 10 years old). And, what to my wondering eye does appear??? My very own obstetrician!!! Very, very, very weird.

Anyway, does being on a documentary on TLC mean she's famous??? My baby will be delivered by someone who's famous!

For those of you keeping score, 2.5 weeks and counting. YIKES!

And, for everyone, thanks for the kind thoughts and prayers for my mom. She continues to recover in inpatient rehab and is doing very well considering the severity of her initial brain injury. We love her and she is doing great!

It's been...well...

2009-06-16T15:17:00.000-07:00

Hi - to whoever (whomever?) is still following me here. I am now nearly 34 weeks pregnant. I was initially put on modified bed rest due to my blood pressure slowly creeping up and the risk of impending pre-eclampsia. That pretty much sucked. But, then, one month ago, the unthinkable happened...

My mom had a massive aneurysm. She was airlifted to a major research university, spent 15 days in neurological intensive care, had 3 brain surgeries, spent another 9 days on the neuro inpatient floor, and has recently returned to a city near her home to an inpatient rehabilitation facility. It has been devastating, obviously, for me and my father and our whole family. Although she is doing great (comparitively speaking), and is slowly regaining some function and independence, we have no idea where we will be in a year - but the doctors seem positive so we are trying to stay positive as well.

My mom is one of the most wonderful people to ever walk this planet. She's gentle, funny, fierce, athletic, intelligent, a great cook, a selflessly dedicated wife and mother. We want her back - all of her - and I hope that's what's going to happen. She won't be here for the baby being born or to help me out with navigating my first steps of motherhood, but I know she's here in spirit and we will be taking the baby down to meet her just as soon as we can. Hopefully she'll be living at home by then and will be able to enjoy her new granddaughter!

So, that's where I've been.

I'm alive...barely

2009-05-09T16:04:00.000-07:00

On modified bedrest with full bedrest coming soon. I'm just trying to keep this bun in the oven as long as possible...I feel like a veal.

Oh Murray...my sciatica!

2009-04-04T16:23:00.000-07:00

My back hurts. Well, not my back so much as my butt/hip/leg. It's awesome. Being pregnant is truly a beautiful and transformative experience. On Monday I'll be 6 months. You know what that means? There are still 4 long months left. Simultaneously too short and too long.

The Boy and I went to Babies R Us today to register. God help me. I literally almost passed out like four times. How can one tiny baby need so much crap??? Also, they give you a list of "must haves" that you should register for. How can it be a "must have" if I don't even know what it does?

Registering for baby stuff is a lot like registering for wedding stuff. I felt guilty registering for anything over $10.00, and manipulated by the store into registering for crap that I really don't need (or that people shouldn't have to buy for me). By the end, succumbing to low blood sugar and exhaustion, I just pointed the barcode gun at anything that didn't move and scanned it. I have no idea what we may get. The Boy spent most of his time wandering away and playing with the toys. Then I would force him back to my side, where he would faithfully stay for approximately 1.3 milliseconds until something else bright and shiny grabbed his attention.

In non-baby news, it's finally sunny here. We are going home to Mama and Daddy Spatula's for Easter next weekend, so I'm pretty much looking forward to that. I really miss them, especially my mom. I guess that is pregnancy related. Just goes to show you that I really CAN'T talk about anything else.

The Boy bought me this book - signed by the author - something I have been looking forward to for months. I'm going to read it next weekend. This weekend I'm cleaning out closets...because I'm exciting like that.

It Sucked and then I Cried...by Heather B. Armstrong

Like a pig in slop

2009-03-20T18:42:00.000-07:00

The Boy is out of town for a few days and I have, unfortunately, reverted back to my original, true self - a total slob. There are dirty dishes in the sink, laundry on the floor, dust bunnies taking over the bedroom, and that is just scraping the surface of how truly disgusting my living conditions have become. I almost hate to admit he's the more domestic of the two of us - but I will say he's never left a frying pan with the remnants of a fried egg soaking in the sink for five entire days. His head would probably explode if he walked into the house right now.

Needless to say...the first day of Spring brings me a much-needed incentive to get some cleaning done this weekend before he comes home. I'm still trying to convince him I'm awesome - and it takes A LOT of work (ie: trickery) to get the desired effect.

In other news...ummm...there is no other news. My life is fairly boring. Without the boozing I just don't think I'm half the blogger I used to be. Two of my favorite writing inspirations, being drunk and being hungover, are totally off the table. Bah.

Here are the highlights of my life: my crocuses are blooming, I figured out how to work the thermostat, I ate Indian food for dinner and am hoping I don't die of food poisoning because it looked a little sketchy, and I might buy a new shower curtain tomorrow. If I don't die from the Indian food. WOO HOO!

A question for all you great legal minds...

2009-03-08T15:22:00.000-07:00

Here's a law school hypothetical for all you lawyer types that are still reading this.

A woman, let's call her ES, rents a car at a car rental place (let's just say she's on a BUDGET...hint hint) in a remote city in Alaska. She arrives at 11pm. The keys are handed over, but there is no opportunity to check the car for damage as it is pitch black and raining and late. ES drives the car to the hotel, to her work meeting the following day, and back to the airport at 6am on the second day. There is no attendant at the rental car counter, and no one to check the car in. ES leaves the receipt for the gas, the contract, and the keys on the counter.

ES DID purchase the rental damage waiver offered by the company. ES did drive less than 25 miles. ES did not violate any of the terms of the rental contract, such as driving while intoxicated or on non-paved roads.

Approximately 2-3 weeks after her return to her home, ES receives a bill from the car rental company for $500.00 for a scratch allegedly done to the car while she drove it. She disputes the bill, and points out that she bought the insurance offered by the company. She is told that the insurance does not cover "ONE CAR COLLISIONS" and since she doesn't know what happened to the car, it is automatically a one car collision.

ES attempts to submit the bill to the Mastercard that she rented the car with, but is turned down due to the fact that she bought the supplemental insurance.

The national office of the rental car company will not help/get involved due to the fact that this is an independently owned franchise.

The $500.00 bill, which is in dispute, is turned over to collections.

ES obtains the cell phone number of the owner of the rental company franchise and explains the situation. He points out there is no way to know what happened, maybe another car hit her car in a parking lot. ES points out that a situation such as that would be a TWO CAR COLLISION, and thus covered by the insurance. The owner laughs at ES, says he doesn't care is she files a complaint with the BBB, but eventually agrees to look into it...albeit half-heartedly.

The "one car collision" loophole is listed in fine-print on the front of the contract, but is not listed on the back of the contract under the list of conditions that nullify the damage waiver.

ES believes the rental car company is using the "ONE CAR COLLISION" loophole to siphon off every instance of damage onto the consumer versus having to cover it with their own insurance, which would raise premiums and costs, etc. There is no way for the consumer to prove a one car collision didn't happen, nor is there any way for the consumer to investigate the damage as it is only pointed out long after they are gone from Small Town, Alaska.

Discuss.

I think we're alone now.

2009-03-01T17:47:00.000-08:00

I've been trying to think about what to write...not coming up with much. I feel a little...blah.

I always dreamed that I would get pregnant and suddenly feel all glowy and wonderful, eating ice cream and caressing my beautiful belly as my adoring husband gazed at me...adoringly. Instead, I am barely showing (at nearly 5 months), ice cream makes my stomach hurt, and although my husband is adoring, he has his own life to live so the gazing time is somewhat limited.

I'm an only child, so I don't have an older (or younger) sister to compare myself to, and most of my friends don't have children yet. I don't know if what I'm feeling is normal or not. I'm lonely. I feel isolated in my pregnancy. My husband is great, but he doesn't understand how bad my hips hurt, and how I want to cry all the time, and how I just want to be able to feel the baby move so I can have some companionship in this whole journey. And my hips really, really hurt.

Now that I'm pregnant, I'm realizing how much of my life was built on social drinking. Having a glass of wine with my husband, meeting my friends for drinks after work or to dish about whatever. Obviously I can still do all those things...but without the booze. I feel left out - like I haven't even had the baby yet and I'm already expected to just sit at home while everything I used to do goes on without me. My husband says "Wow, think about how much our lives will change after this baby comes". I'm like "Hey...guess what, my life IS changed. Right now!" Let's not even go into falling asleep at 9:30 only to wake up 4 times to pee!

I know I sound like a hormonal, resentful, shrew. I promise I'm not. I just wish I had more people to talk to, more stuff to do that isn't at a bar where I sit and watch everyone else drink, more of my pre-pregnancy dream of what this would all be like. I wish my mom lived here. I want my mommy! WAH!

Anyway, enough angst. I'm excited that we're going to find out the gender this week - provided the baby is cooperating. I'm a little worried that they could find something wrong, but a LOT excited about seeing the baby and knowing whether it's a boy or a girl I'm talking to all the time.

There's a tear in my beer...

2009-02-09T19:07:00.000-08:00

Well, not in my beer...because, sadly...no beer. But, I can report that everything you've heard about pregnant women is true. I cry every day, whether there's a reason or not. Sometimes it's because of an actual reason (i.e. story on the Today Show about man who dies and is then brought back to life). Other times, it's because of something...well...less than an actual reason. No orange juice in the fridge? Cry. Out of eggrolls at my fave fast food Chinese place? Cry. The Boy makes dinner? Cry. The Boy doesn't make dinner? Cry. Yeah, it's pretty impressive.

Here's an interesting thing about being knocked up...a group of people I lovingly call The Pregnancy Police (TPP). TPP will let you know, without hesitation, anytime you are doing something "wrong" in your pregnancy. For me, this includes such Sins as:

1. Drinking Diet Coke
2. Using Biore face scrub
3. Taking Sudafed
4. Eating a piece of brie

There's a lot of "Well, I guess it's your decision...buuuuuuuuuut......"

I've never had so many people concerned for my well being. Where was everyone when I was binge drinking and dating a guy who, on his very best day, looked like he crawled out of a dumpster full of patchouli oil and questionable morals??

Oh well. I know people mean well, but...in the words of Tim Gunn...I'm dubious.

The weather is here, I wish you were beautiful.

2009-01-31T17:38:00.000-08:00

I really, really, really miss drinking. Really alot. Things have been stressful of late at work, and with a bathroom renovation happening at home, and a bunch of stuff, and I would kill for a ~~bottle~~ glass of wine (geez, I'm not a total alkie).

We had an appointment last week and the doctor couldn't find the baby's heartbeat. It sucked for about five minutes, but they did an ultrasound and we got to see our little peanut in there, heart beating away. I guess he or she is just stubborn. Like Daddy. Because God knows I'm totally reasonable at all times.

Let's see...not much else is new. We are tiling our tub surround and our bathroom floor this weekend. In our only bathroom. Which is, by the way, the most important room in the house to a pregnant lady. So....yeah.

The Boy and his brother are doing the actual work. I'm eating a lot of cookies and watching the True Life marathon on MTV. I've watched people addicted to Adderall, people with insomnia, and people who are geniuses. I need to get a life.

Anyway, I just thought I should post something for the three of four readers who have come back recently. I'll try to pay attention this week and find something good to write about, I promise. I just know nobody wants to hear about my indigestion, swollen ankles, and inability to remember ANYTHING. It's like the baby actually ate my brain.

ABC Sucks!

2009-01-18T12:45:00.000-08:00

As if it wasn't bad enough to cancel Pushing Daisies, now they are waffling/refuse to air the last three episodes. I am so disturbed by the fact that they are willing to keep Grey's Anatomy, which jumped the shark like two years ago when Meredith went into the water during the ferry accident (and PUH-LEEZE don't get me started on Private Practice), but will cancel pretty much the most original show on television right now. They really needed that space to air Homeland Security USA and True Beauty apparently. What the world needs now is more vapid reality television produced by Ashton freakin' Kutcher. And, seriously...According to Jim is STILL on the air. REALLY?

Does anyone remember when television shows were actually shows? Like, with a cast and a plot and scripts and stuff? Well, I guess most of the "reality" shows have scripts, to be fair. I am so sick of bachelors, bachelorettes, survivors, idols and all things Howie Mandel.

Anyway, guess I'm just extra whiny today, but ever since Buffy the Vampire Slayer went off the air I've been waiting for another show to come along that would be interesting and unique and sort of whimsical, and I think Pushing Daisies was all of those things and more. Damnit.

What's not to be excited about?!

2009-01-15T17:10:00.000-08:00

So, for the last several days I didn't have any morning sickness. Instead of being happy, I immediately assumed something terrible had happened...because I'm ungrateful like that. So, for punishment, it's back today (now with more barfiness!). BUT WAIT! If you call within the next 20 minutes, I'll throw in headaches, indigestion, heartburn, constipation, emotional disturbances AND insomnia FOR FREE. That's right, for absolutely no additional money, you can have six (SIX!) times the pregnancy symptoms!

I continue to wait for the magical second trimester. I've heard a unicorn walks in on a rainbow and gives you a hundred dollars and tells you it's perfectly fine to drink from here on out. Sweet relief!

Want me to punch-a-size your face, for free?

2009-01-06T18:50:00.001-08:00

The thing about being pregnant is you can pretty much do anything you want, no matter how diabolical, and then blame it on hormones. It would be awesome, except I don't have the energy to take over the world and defeat evil because I'm too busy hovering over the toilet and thinking about how much I need to paint my toenails.

I am in Week 10, and the highlight thus far is how much I have come to love Rice Krispies Treats. I made some on Sunday and the whole pan is nearly gone. The Boy knows better than to get anywhere near them if he wants to live through the night. Other than that, I am eating a lot of toast, grilled cheese, and various other non-meat-based foods. The smell/thought/texture/taste of meat makes me gag. Oh yeah, and bagels. I really want a croissant too, come to think of it. OK, enough about food, it's kind of love/hate for me right now, but I think I'm moving into a happier place as the first trimester comes to an end. I hope.

In non-baby news, there is not much to report. The Boy is watching Anthony Bourdain right now, and I'm blogging because I think Bourdain is a douchebag. I think later we'll watch The Biggest Loser so I can feel less like a fat pregnant bloated cow. On the other hand, every week they'll be getting thinner and I'll just keep growing until I have my own zip code. Damnit.

OK, we're having a major windstorm, so I better go watch out the window in case our tree finally falls on the house of the neighbor I hate. Yessssssssss!

Sorry - I've been busy!

2008-12-31T10:42:00.000-08:00

Making a baby! Yup, that's right. The Boy and I, contrary to popular belief, actually HAVE done something useful with our lives and are currently incubating a tiny little miniature Spatula.

Here are some fun things I have learned about being pregnant:

1. It's hard to look excited when you are constantly on the verge of puking. It doesn't mean I'm not excited, so it's unnecessary to ask "Oh, is this a good thing?" when you congratulate me and I don't jump up and down and give you a big hug. I'm trying not to barf on your shoe.

2. People are so nice and mean so well, but the number of people who ask "So, was this planned?", is truly astounding. How should I answer that? "No. I wanted to be COMPLETELY off the drugs, but we just couldn't wait."

3. No one can out-burp a pregnant lady. We won't even talk about all the other gross stuff my husband has recently discovered about me. I'm sure he yearns for the days when I was all shy and didn't want to gross him out with my bodily functions. Now they're appropriate dinner conversation and any time, day or night, is the right time to remind him just where in the digestive process I am at that exact moment.

4. The baby is called a "fetal pole" on the ultrasound machine. Today we saw it moving and wiggling and declared it to be a "fetal pole dancer". I was pretty much the only person that thought this was funny. We're considering naming it Angel Chastity Heaven Cherry Pie Spatula, just to cement things.

5. Haagen Daaz Peppermint Bark Ice Cream is the Best. Thing. Ever. for pregnant ladies. If your lady is pregnant now, has ever been pregnant, or is even just a female, buy this for her. I really, really mean it.

Anyway, needless to say, we are extremely happy and excited. Yes, it was planned. Yes, I will probably write about it now that we've told everyone. I'm almost done with the spectacularly evil first trimester. Hallelujah.

Build a little birdhouse in your soul.

2008-10-23T15:28:00.000-07:00

A bajillion years ago, when I actually used to write here more than once a month, we used to have this little meme we would do about "Things I'm Thinking About" and "Things I'm Not Thinking About". I can't remember the rest of it, I think it had stuff you were reading or watching or whatever. Anyway, my life was way more entertaining back then, but I will try a similar theme to update everyone.

Things I'm Thinking About:

Typing: My hand seems to be slowly coming back to life, which is nice. I cannot be bothered to be productive when my hand is numb. I'm forced to read The Superficial all day and contemplate my deep-seated existential angst. It's pretty much a full time job.

Babies: I think I might want to get one. Not in the "kidnapping" sense, but more in the "throw caution to the wind and have sex without birth control for the first time since I was 18" sense. I will be sure to let you all know how that turns out.

The Boy: He's wonderful. I looked at him the other night and said "This is the first time I've ever been married where I didn't want to kill myself after the third day." Awwwwwwww, I'm so romantic. That guy is so lucky!

Things I'm Not Thinking About:

The Election: OK, I am thinking about this a bit. Up here in the Northwest a lot of people have the Sarah Palin Alaska/Minnesota/Wisconsin/Canada accent. That always reminds me I hate her.

Work: Again, I am thinking about it. I need to be actually doing it, but...baby steps.

Things I'm Reading:

In Defense of Food. I like it, but it can be a bit preachy. I feel extra-guilty about my Diet Coke, so then I have to drink another one to make me feel better. Vicious cycle. Sometimes, I throw caution to the wind a gulp down a Butterfinger Blizzard to boot.

Things I'm Watching:

Pushing Daisies. LOVE IT! I love Emerson, Ned, Olive, Chuck and most especially Digby. Finally, a show not set in a damn hospital or on a desert island. Thank Jebus.

Well, I guess that's about it for now. I wish I could talk about work, it's been exciting lately. But, alas, we bought a house in February, and I need the money. So, it would be inconvenient to get fired. You'll have to trust me that it's been a wild ride lately.

Yup yup.

2008-10-08T18:09:00.000-07:00

4 vials in which to place blood (1 red top, 3 lavender): $4.00
3 Nurses for 25 minutes: $120.00
5 needles and setups: $1.28
2 rubber tourniquets: $0.36
5 holes in my hands and arms: Free apparently

FINALLY HITTING A GODDAMN VEIN: PRICELESS

Pity: Party of 1

2008-09-29T17:02:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty much in a funk. A deep, dark, blue, sad, numb-handed funk. My body just keeps betraying me over and over and over again. I'm 33 years old and I am a sad person with numb hands and it's just pathetic. I try very hard to look at the bright side, or to at least not focus constantly on the negative, but right now it's pretty hard. I ate ice cream for dinner, I haven't been drinking (yet), and I am positively melancholy. The Boy will be home soon, and he is sooooooooooo nice and such a wonderful person and he always wants to make me feel better and he takes it so personally when I don't.

On the up side, my diet coke well runneth over and I have a job that allows me to pend $4.00 on a pint of ice cream that I will eat in secret while crying and bemoaning my various woes.

The claw

2008-09-15T19:20:00.000-07:00

I am around, Numb hands make blogging a hassle. MS sucks.

New couch! We're official adults!

2008-08-17T16:24:00.000-07:00

We decided to buy a new couch. We're getting a different fabric, but we really like the style. It's from Dania...we're finally graduating from Ikea to Ikea Plus!

I miss air conditioning

2008-08-15T18:11:00.001-07:00

I tried to come up with a clever title but I couldn't because my brain has actually baked inside my head and is no longer capable of retrieving things like funny movie lines.

On the up side, The Boy is making me dinner. He's so good. I swear, I totally don't deserve him. I've showed him my broken toe at least 53 times since Wednesday and he is so patient - he goes "Mmmmmm...gross", EVERY SINGLE TIME.

On the not up side, my left hand is basically totally numb, making typing extremely difficult, which will likely cut into my blogging in the same way it has cut into my work productivity. I totally can't feel my left pinky, which seems like not a big deal, but think of how many times you hit the Shift key or Shift with a special character. My inability to feel my ring finger is the tragic downfall of A S Z Q W and X. Typing the word "ass", one of my favorite words, has lost its joy.

If you are considering getting multiple sclerosis, I would highly advise against it. What a hassle. Thank god I can still hold a wine glass.

Oh yeah. Also it's 90 here. And no one has AC (very hard to type!!!), so it's like twelve thousand degrees in our house and even though I have a fan pointed right at me it is not even helping - my lipglosses are all melted like they've been in my car, and I think maybe my spleen is actually liquified.

If it weren't for bad luck...

2008-08-13T17:49:00.000-07:00

I'd have none at all.

Let me recap:

May 2007 - diagnosed with multiple sclerosis
December 2007 - compression fracture of T-10 vertebrae because I'm a dumbass and should have never gotten on that ATV
January 2008 - bad personal life event which I won't discuss online, but trust me, it sucked
August 12, 2008 - running down the stairs to grab the phone and broke my freaking toe! It's purple and black and blue and red...like tie dye if you could tie dye a bruise. Awesome.

To add insult to injury my left hand is pretty much completely numb now which is making typing a true adventure. My neurologist is switching practices and won't be available so I can't even get seen until after Sept. 1. Not that there's anything he can do really...welcome to MS - the incurable disease that causes a bunch of totally shitty symptoms with no real treatment except a bunch of drugs that make you feel even shittier than the disease or medicate you into a drug-addled coma. FAB!

I'm gonna go get a glass of wine. I hope I can go to the gym tomorrow...between numb legs and the broken toe, I'm ready for a damn vacation.

This is why the Romanians hate me*

2008-08-11T18:02:00.000-07:00

Normally, I consider myself to be pretty much an upfront, outgoing, tell it like it is kinda gal. For some reason, this all goes out the window when confronted openly and in person about a subject I am uncomfortable with. For instance...my alleged fatness. It's true that I have put on a couple of" happy to be married" and "thank god my husband loves to cook and also loves curvy girls" pounds. So, I joined a gym. I have been diligently attending said gym three or four times a week at 6:00am. Yes...SIX in the ANTE-MERIDIAN.

Anyway, part of joining this particular gym is two free sessions with a personal trainer. I vehemently oppose the idea of going to one of these trainers for a whole variety of reasons...they try to sell you supplements, they try to sell you more time working with them, etc. But, given my fear of open confrontation, when I signed up for the gym and the membership guy signed me up for a personal training session (it's FREE!), I was powerless to resist. We set it up for last Monday at 6:30. In the MORNING! It's FREE!

I was there. He was not. SWEET! I thought for sure I had actually managed to escape. No appointment, no one measuring my fat, no one trying to sell me protein powder, and no confrontation. But then, later at work...my cell phone rang. I didn't pick up. That's OK, I thought...I'm totally OK with being passive aggressive, I just won't call back. Problem solved.

Tuesday at the gym passes uneventfully. Then, Wednesday morning, I'm working out and I hear "Energy Spatula? Come to the front desk. Ms. Spatula...please come to the front desk!" And, here's where I made a mistake. I looked up! And, there he was...standing at the front desk...our eyes met...he waved...I knew I was in trouble.

I couldn't ignore him, eye contact was made. So, I stepped off my treadmill and headed over. He apologized profusely and wanted to set me up with a new appointment. How come no one, INCLUDING ME, has mentioned that he showed up at the gym at 6am specifically for the purpose of stalking me down? Why didn't I think of that??

So, I give in. I set the appointment for the following morning. In my 1/2 hour with the trainer, here is what I learned:

1. Muscles burn glycogen. Not everyone knows that.
2. If you take 8 years to get fat, you can't expect to lose it overnight. Fatty.
3. Most people quit the gym after four months.
4. If I manage to stick it out for four months, I will find myself becoming more magnetic as I shed my dull, inactive, unenergetic persona for a more "active" and "fit" and..."likeable" self. (People like thin people. I'm not thin. But, someday, with his help, I could at least make an attempt to get there.)
5. Romanians hate Gypsy's. Swear to God he told me this.
6. He knows all about MS because his sister-in-law has it. I shouldn't focus on my limitations, it's counterproductive. If I can't feel my legs, well, squats will help me with that if I would just quit whining.
7. Glycogen!
8. If I want more sessions, they can be had for the low, low price of $125. An HOUR!
9. Oh, I was in the Air Force? Well, he was a Marine. He's surprised I even know how to find a gym.
10. On a scale of 1-5, I know o, ZERO, about weight-lifting. The sooner I accept that, the sooner we can all get on with our lives.

But, I made it through. I fulfilled my commitment to have one free training session - I'm done, right?

WRONG! Today, I'm on the elliptical machine, headphones on, minding my own business. If I wasn't such a pussy about my MS and all focus-y on it, I would be on the treadmill, but the whole "numb from the thighs down" thing has me pouting like a five year old. I look over, and guess who is standing next to me in all of his pony-tailed glory? The staring commences. I'm not taking off my headphones, and apparently he's not budging. Finally I say "I'm watching the news." And he goes, "Yeah"...and then stands there in further awkward silence for at least two minutes.

Anyway, the whole thing is just creeping me out. This guy wants to save me from my own fatness, and I just want to be patted on the back for getting up at the crack of dawn and not falling off the treadmill and killing myself. If he had bothered to ask me my goals, he would know this. Instead I am cowering behind the elliptical machine every morning and dodging out of my own gym like it's the walk of shame or something.

*Actual quote from my trainer right before he enlightened me on his Gypsy heritage and the fact that Romanians hate Gypsy's for their superior ability to do squats and lunges. Seriously.