The Hook Brings You Back.

So I had this boyfriend in high school.  And by boyfriend, I mean this boy who liked me and I kind of liked him, but thought it was creepy that he was a senior and I was a freshman, so I didn't really want to go out with him.  I didn't know how to say no (or sure that I WANTED to say no), so I asked my mom if I could go out with him...knowing she would say no for me.  She's a good woman. 

If I had really wanted to go out with him, I would have just gone out with him.  I was difficult that way*.  So of course, mom said no because she is a rational human being and when your 14 year old daughter wants to go out with a 19 year old boy (he was old for his grade), you ALWAYS say no.  Even if you know she will go anyway.  At least then, when she gets impregnated, you can say "Nanananana, I told you so"...and then you can go about raising her High School Love Child.

For the sake of the story, we will say his name was Eagle.  This doesn't really protect the innocent at all, because his name was another bird...which totally didn't help his cause.  He was a nice enough guy and I DID like him...but only kind of.  He was into cars (which I SOOO wasn't)...and into low-rider cars (which I was even LESS into than just regular cars)...especially since I didn't even have my drivers permit.  He was into really loud music in his car - you know, like the BOOM BOOM BOOM music that makes you want to kill people as they zip through your neighborhood or stop next to you at an intersection (this is probably why I am deaf today).  But is probably also why I was not a teen mom (he knocked up a couple of girls shortly after our "relationship" ended).  See mom?  I DID make good decisions.

Anyway, we used to spend the afternoons hanging out on the bed of his truck in front of my parents house.  The fact that this was fun to a 19 year-old was baffling to me and only furthered his creepiness factor.  I mean, I felt SO cool that I was hanging with a 19 year-old, but seriously thought it was wierd that he thought it was cool to hang with me.  In my parents yard. 

Alas, we had unrequited love.  And therefore, he sent me love letters**.  Of the handwritten/cologne doused variety.  They arrived regularly in the mail...and made every other piece of paper in the mailbox stink to high heaven.  He must have wasted bottles of cologne on these letters.

Fast forward to present time:  We just had a re-orginization at work.  I have a new boss who shows up in a meeting the other day wearing a familiar scent.  I immediately placed it and the hook brought me back man.  I could totally see myself sitting in my parents yard (with straight teeth because I wore my retainer all the time back then), with my friend Eagle listening to Satellite by DMB in the bed of his truck...

To sum up:  My boss wears the same cologne as my high school "boyfriend".  Not sure how I'm supposed to get through my yearly performance review without dying.

*Let's hope Anna inherited my hair and nothing else.  The less she is like me, the more likely that Tommy and I are to survive her childhood.

**I also recieved a recorded-from-the-radio cassette tape of Careless Whisper by Wham.

Update:  It has been brought to my attention that this story would be significantly better if my new boss was my old boyfriend, so for the sake of hilarity, we will say it is so.  Done.  New boss = Ex-Boyfriend.  (But in reality, they only smell the same...)

Maternity Clothes = Increased Revenue

I am finally, FINALLY starting to be able to fit into my regular clothes.  I know they say that breastfeeding just melts the pounds away.  Well, THEY can go suck a pickle, because I can guarandamtee you that it did not melt the pounds away.  Mostly, breastfeeding made me want to eat the couch.  And possibly the coffee table.  I would wake up several times a night STARVING.  Like, could eat a whole large pizza, STARVING, not "oh, maybe if I just drink a glass of water my belly will stop growling".  No, this was RAVENOUS, you must feed me now, I think I may die, or my growling belly will wake the baby kind of hungry.  No wonder I couldn't lose weight.  I was eating for about 2 million.

Nonetheless, the point of the story is that YAYYY regular clothes!  HOWEVER, elastic waistbands rock and I miss them already.  No only are you ALWAYS ready to eat a big meal, but you save so much time in the bathroom.  I mean, with regular pants and all their buttons and zippers, you better have a few seconds to spare when you get to the toilet...but with maternity pants, you can cut it real close because all you have to do is pull those suckers down.  They are just efficient. 

I may do a six sigma project on it.  Maybe I can get my company to invest in maternity pants for all it's employees.

Maternity pants = Increased Productivity.

No Apologies.

I SHOULD be apologetic, and I DO feel a little guilty, but alas, life has once again gotten in the way of me spreading the word.  And by "the word", I mean "verbal diarrhea" and by "spreading", I mean "like herpes".

Nonetheless, thanks for everyone's concern at my absence.  I've just been busy, pre-occupied, and just generally playing about.  We have implemented Margarita Fridays at our house (we make margaritas and sit in the driveway like the classy folks we were raised to be), and therefore I spend most of my week dreaming about 5PM on Friday...which leaves little time for blogging.  Tommy mixes up a batch of sugary goodness, we take the exersaucer to the field and everyone relaxes and enjoys life.

What's that you say?  You live in Texas and it's about 237 degrees outside right now?  Yeah, this does not stop us from field sitting.  Anna is only happy when she is about catch on fire, so out to the field we go...with margaritas.  For us.  Not her. 

To recap the exersizing in the last month-ish:

I re-injured myself running.  Shocking.  I was doing really well running 3-4 miles and then when my running club started up for the season running 6/8/10 miles, I was all, "Hey yeah, I can totally run 39 miles with you guys tomorrow.  No prob."  And lo and behold, I hurt myself.  I should know better, but I got caught up in all.  Oops.  Soooo, now I'm back to 3-4 miles with walk breaks....it's going eh.  I'm having fun though, so I am trying not to care too much.

Due to my injury, my race at Bridgeland Sprint Tri went sub-optimally.  That said, I would have won the Athena division had I remembered to sign up for it (idiot)...instead I got like 9 millionth place in my normal division.  Which, by the way, doesn't feel as good as first.  In case you were curious.

I swam okay (as expected...can't expect great things when you swim twice a year), biked okay (it took me 5 miles to warm up...and in a 13 mile ride, that's too long!), and ran pretty crappily (mostly because I walked most of it).  So, eh. 

I took about 2 weeks off (you know, kind of...) of working out and it was pretty glorious.  It was probably the first time off I've taken in a few years and I really enjoyed it.  I didn't feel guilty and it was good.  I don't have any races until the spring, so there's no real reason to push the envelope now.  I felt like I needed a break and I took it.  GLORIOUS.  And during that time, Tommy and I were able to run together for the first time in about a year - it was great to be able to do that again.  Now that the weather is cooling off (it's only 168 today instead of 237), I'm hoping we can take Anna out for runs together.  

Point of the story is that I:
A.) Am alive
B.) Am well
C.) Have about 37 blogs started but not finished from over the last month
D.)  Am wishing that each day had about 3 more hours in it
E. ) All of the above

No one likes all of the above.

And, of course, gratuitous photos of my adorable nugget, whom we have nicknamed NuNu (it's short for Nugget.  Duh.)

First Trip to the Beach.  Lovin' Life.

Best.  Party.  Ever.

A Daddy and His Girl!

Baptism Day!