Happy Pi(e) Day!

In case anyone wants another reason to have pie...(does anyone need a reason??)

Today is 3.14

Pi Day

I'm not good at math, so Pi means pretty much just another number to me.

But I'm good at pies :) So if there is a day that combines something I'm horrible at and something that tastes pretty darn good, then I'm all for it.

So whether you like a nice fruit pie, a cream pie...a Kahlua cream cheese pie from Marie Callendars--seriously tasty--...Or even a chicken pot pie, take advantage of an excuse like today's date to indulge.

But do it my way and leave the math part out of it--no counting calories, no adding up the weight gain that will come with having that extra piece of your favorite kind of pie....

Happy Pi Day everyone :)

March Ramble

Just a bit of rambling thought today. Shocker, I know.

I was driving down the freeway the other day and a car passed me that had those vinyl letters in the back window that said "Die Trying".

They were young punks in that car, so they probably thought it was a fairly tough statement and didn't mean for it to cause undue thinking on any one's part--especially a kooky lady in a crapper suburban like me.

But I did think about it for awhile. Probably longer than I usually think about things, and I'm sure I'll get over it sooner rather than later....but still. I actually pondered a bit. (Write that down, because it will probably be awhile before I ponder again..)

My first thought (after the one about punk kids and their driving habits..,), was that the phrase 'die trying' is actually what everyone should hope for.

In the religion I belong to, we believe that everyone should strive toward perfection. Christ gave us the perfect example and we should emulate that and do good deeds, love thy neighbor, etc.

But also in my religion--especially in the women--I think that they have taken that perfection route a bit too literally. There are all sorts of statistics on the number of women in my State who are on anti-depressants. And I have felt for awhile that a lot of that is due, in part to the drilling in of the perfection statements.

The key is that we are to strive for that. It never, ever says we will actually become perfect. No one can. It is just part of being human that makes it so. We cannot become perfect in this life. We can, however, try to become better people. Better wives, husbands, friends, brothers...We can help others, we can volunteer, we can set good examples and try our darnedest to not be judgemental of other people and the choices they make. And we can be easier on ourselves and those around us.

No one is perfect. It isn't going to happen in this lifetime. All we can do is try to become better tomorrow than we are today and not be hard on ourselves when we slide backwards a bit because of our human nature.

All we can do is try. Try to just be good to yourself and those around you. Try to give up bad habits and replace them with good ones. Try to learn more. Try to be an example of a decent human being when the rest of the world is going to crap. Try to be more involved. Try to be more forgiving. Try to love yourself and not stress so much about being perfect.

Try every day until we die.

Hence, the 'Die Trying'. That's what we should all be doing. We should die trying to be better people. To make the world--at least our little part of it--a happier place to be. Die trying to make other people's lives a little nicer.

A great thought that sort of goes along with this whole jumble of ramble is from Marvin J. Ashton, an apostle from my church. He said:

“Be one who nurtures and builds. Be one who has an understanding and a forgiving heart, who looks for the best in people. Leave people better than you found them”.

I know it isn't a huge epiphany of sorts. It is just a reminder that even if we die tomorrow, we won't be dying perfect...but we will hopefully die trying to be a better person than we are right now.

And like my favorite part of that quote..."Leave people better than you found them."

If we do that, we won't just die trying.

I think we will have died succeeding.

Valentine's Reflections

In case you missed it, Valentine's Day was a couple of days ago.

Hallmark's favorite holiday after Christmas.

Did you know that one billion valentine's day cards are sent worldwide each year? It's true. I looked it up and learned something. One b i l l i o n. (Go ahead and say that drawn out with a pinky held at the corner of your mouth. It's more fun that way when you bring in a little Dr. Evil to the mix)

I was not one who joined in the masses of Valentine's card mailings. Or givings. Or even post-it note leaving.

It isn't that my husband and I didn't participate in some semblance of Valentine's celebration...we went to dinner at a friends house with some other couples and had a lovely meal, great conversation, and watched a really bad movie. So that was something.

I learned early on in my marriage that Valentine's isn't my husband's favorite holiday.

I remember buying a card (apparently Hallmark sold one billion and one that year), and a shirt for my husband of 5 months and presenting the gift to him that evening when he got off work. Our first Valentine's as a married couple...no kids yet to kill off brain cells...you know the drill.

I have pulled way back on my Valentine's giving since that year. He tried really hard, but couldn't actually bring himself to like the shirt I bought for him. He did keep the card though, so over the years I have given the occasional card, but left the clothes buying to him.

It all reminds me of the advice I have heard given to newlywed couples: Start the way you mean to go.

If you don't want to have to add Valentine's as a holiday to remember, don't start off with the extravagant gifts.

I can check that box off. Tried it the other way, didn't work. What we have now works fine. It is what we expect. It isn't a romantic holiday, but it is a good excuse to pretend to make really yummy sugar cookies to give to neighbors, but eat them all yourself...:)

Starting the way you mean to go is like when you make your husband a lunch to take to work. If you start packing a lunch for him, he is going to expect it. Makes sense. So unless you are going to keep doing it willingly, don't start making his lunch unless you are in it for the long haul.

Or like when you are first married and you and your husband are watching TV together and he says "I'm really thirsty", so you jump up and get him a nice beverage. Maybe even add crushed ice...and a straw if you are feeling really loving.

Fifteen (or seventeen) years later when he says "I'm really thirsty" and you pop off with the "Great. While you're up..." That doesn't go over quite as well when he has you trained to help him out of his parched predicament.

(I find it hilarious...my husband? Not so much. But we are getting to a good middle ground now, which is nice).

The one thing I never started was ironing. I hate to iron. Hate. But when I do iron I figure it shows that I care, right? (I'll just keep telling myself that...)

Starting as you mean to go is harder than it sounds. When you are newly married, you are still in the 'honeymoon' stage where you are trying harder to please so that your spouse doesn't start praying that they are just in the middle of a bad dream and are begging to wake up and find themselves single again.

The stage where your "quirks" are still endearing and not yet annoying.

So making lunch everyday with a cute little note slipped inside is more likely to occur in the first year of marriage.

By the fifth year, the note--if there still is one--will usually have fewer little heart doodles and more lists of 'To-do's for when you get home from work.

By the 23rd year you are probably making your own lunch and wondering how you got to that point.

Don't take it personally.

Life changes. Stuff happens. You get more comfortable with each other and don't feel the constant need to remind your spouse that you love them.

Which is probably the very best reason we have to celebrate Valentine's Day.

After a year of living and getting through all the ups and downs that life throws at you, it is nice to have a holiday that reminds you to tell your significant other how much they mean to you.

Because even if you are certain that they already know--I mean, after all...I DID iron those shirts for you...that one time...a few months ago....it is nice to have your partner acknowledge that you are an important part of their life. Someone you care for. Appreciate. Can't imagine life without.

You know. Love.

So if you forgot to mention to your better half on Valentine's Day that you are grateful for their presence in your life. Maybe we should change that.

You can never be told too often that someone is happy you are in their life and that you make living life more fun and entertaining than it would be otherwise.

Even if you go through life with a slightly wrinkled shirt and you pack your own lunch.

Happy belated Valentine's Day.

"English is your mother tongue, and stuff."

Human vocabulary is fascinating. We have dictionaries with thousands and thousands of words--with pronunciations, forms, and a lot of the time the words have multiple definitions.

If you pick a random word of which you are fairly certain you know the correct meaning and look it up in the dictionary, there is a decent chance that it will be a little different than you thought. You might have the basics down on that word, but sometimes there is more than one way to use that particular word that catches you completely unaware.

For example, since I was feeling a bit melancholy today, I looked it up. One of the noun definitions for melancholy is 'black bile'.

Whatever the heck that is. I couldn't even really figure out how you would use the word melancholy to talk about black bile.

So you see, you don't always use some words in all the ways they could be used.

With my attention now caught for a moment, I saw that one of the synonyms for melancholy was 'funk'. So just for fun I entered f-u-n-k into the search and pulled up this definition:

Funk [fuhngk]

–noun
1.cowering fear; state of great fright or terror.
2.a dejected mood: He's been in a funk ever since she walked out on him.

–verb (used with object)
3.to be afraid of.
4.to frighten.
5.to shrink from; try to shirk.–verb (used without object)
6.to shrink or quail in fear.

I am probably showing my ignorance of the English language here, but honestly I always thought that only #2 was the definition of funk. When I think of being afraid or fear, the word funk never comes to my mind.

Of course, part of that could be due to the addition of the letter 'Y' to funk for a completely different word. Because, c'mon. How can you be afraid if you are funky? :)

I admit that I am not a wordsmith. Keeping it simple works for me. I don't have to think too hard, and anyone I am talking with doesn't have to pretend to understand what I am talking about.

I will admit that in the past I have pulled the 'dumb blond' maneuver to get out of a relationship with an overachieving wordsmith type. I was a senior in high school and dating a guy who was fond of coming over and reading the paper. He found me a bit naive and childish when instead of watching him read the paper (there was no paint around for me to watch dry...), I chose to go outside in the snow and play catch with a stray dog that happened by. Silly me.

Once I realized that his intelligence was his point of pride, it was really quite simple for me to figure out how to make him think it was HIS idea to break up with me.

I played dumb. And I played it well.

This is the guy who I might have mentioned before, as the one who poured out his life's drama to me and then got angry with me when I didn't have any similar stories of pain and anguish to share.

He popped off with a "Doesn't ANYTHING bother you???"

And my smart aleck (read "dumb", but I meant every word..which I guess is kind of sad...) response was "Yes. I hate it when you eat a peanut M&M and there is no peanut in it."

And the last nail in the coffin could be heard echoing throughout the room.

I saw him a couple of years later and he rattled off a complete sentence with more large words than a Thesaurus, then smiled a cocky smile and waited for my response to that one.

I honestly had no idea what he had said. Not one. I'm not sure it was even English. So I did the only thing I could do in that situation.

I looked at him blankly, shrugged, said "Nice talking with you" , and walked away.

To this day, the man still believes I am dumb as a post. Maybe so. But his life is still miserable and I still only really get bummed about peanut M&M's without a peanut. I can handle the dumb as a post title if my other option is so depressing.

This has been my pensive ramble for today. I hope someone learned a little something here--mainly for my resolution for 2009--and I hope that you think about looking up some words and learning something on your own too.

And if anyone can explain that 'black bile' thing to me that would be great.

Melancholy? Black bile? I just don't get it....

Broken Resolutions (Already) and BFL

I know it has been a couple of weeks since I last wrote here in my blog.

Truth be told, I totally ruined any chances of ever writing in this again when in my last post I made the huge error of deciding that my New Year's resolution would be to not write here unless I had some sort of point. That right there killed any ability I had to write in my blog unless I wanted to immediately cancel out my resolution.

You see which part won.

I really shouldn't make resolutions. They are depressing when you don't keep them.

Maybe if I'm really lucky I will be able to throw in a good point today so that I can not completely fail in the resolution...we'll see.

I went out to dinner last Friday with a good friend of mine from high school. We hadn't seen each other in years, but it didn't seem to matter. We ate really bad food and had a wonderful time.

One thing that came up in our discussion--and I told her this was what I was going to write about in my blog--was that there are some things that people will not show other people, even if you offered them a large amount of cold hard cash.

The 'thing' in particular that I had in mind was the "Before" photo of anyone doing Body-for-Life--as long as you haven't as yet reduced your mass to an "After" type body.

Body-for-Life, in case you aren't aware, is a diet and exercise lifestyle that includes lowering your fat intake, exercising daily (alternating between cardio and weight training), having 6 smaller meals per day instead of three large ones, and having one blessed day known as your "free day" where you can eat ANYTHING you want. Most people live for that day.

At the beginning of this program, they encourage you to take photos of yourself in a swimming suit. This photo is to be posted somewhere where you will see it and be motivated to continue with the outlined diet and exercise. Because, seriously...who wants to be a 'before' photo?

I happen to have 'before' photos of myself.

You will never, ever, ever see them. And that is because I still look exactly like my 'before' photos.

It is funny how the vanity of humans make it so that the instant we become an 'after' photo, we will be more than happy to show those frightening 'before' photos. I would actually look forward to showing them if I had an 'after' body.

The reaction in my mind would be someone taking the photos from my hand and gasping "That was YOU???"

(I would at that time smile demurely--assuming that my 'after' body also included the ability to suddenly be demure...right now I'm not sure demure is in anyone's description of me--and say, "Yes, that was me. Shocking isn't it? Look at me now. --I would pause and dramatically add--I can be dramatic even now--"It took a lot of hard work and dedication, but I love my 6-pack abs and my size 4 jeans.")

Can you be demure and mention being a size 4 at the same time? I think the word demure becomes something a lot less lady-like..

Showing the 'before' photo before there is an after photo is not nearly as satisfying.

The thought of it is actually frightening.

Can you imagine? "Here, look at this 'before' photo of me."

Stunned silence. Glances from the photo, to my gelatinous self, back to the photo. "Uh. Before what?"

At least in real life I have clothes that cover my 'before' body. Those photos are 'before' body in a bikini. If you are a 'before' photo type, it is easy to ignore when you are always fully clothed. Throw a swimming suit into the mix and there is no more hiding. It is cruel, but effective.

I know you've seen people in bikinis who should never, ever be out in public in such a state of undress. I have seen them and have actually thought to myself, 'They must have a fabulous self-image to have looked in the mirror and thought that looked good." Good for them.

Not so good for the rest of us.

Maybe someday I will post my 'before' photos. That would be a really nice day for me, because it would mean that I have finally achieved my 'after' body.

Either that, or I will have joined the ranks of the bikini-wearing heavy folk who have magical mirrors, good self-images, or rose-colored glasses. Or my eyes will be poked out. Or all my friends will be even larger than me so I'll be known as the skinny one (thanks Sinbad for that idea...).

Pretty much don't count on ever seeing my photos.

But for fun, you can go here and see the before and after photos on Body-For-Life. If you go there and read about the program, you might learn something--which will make this post meaningful. Which means I will have not broken my resolution.

Brilliant.

Still a "Before" body type, but brilliant just the same. :)

From Shallow Rambling to Waist-Deep Pointed Trivia

I'm not a very deep person. As a matter of fact, if I were a swimming pool I would probably be the shallow end--but at the TOP of the stairs going into the pool..you know where I'm talking, the part where you stand in water to your ankles and wonder if you should dive in or keep edging your way deeper.

In other words, I'm almost dry-land I'm so shallow.

(Reading my blogs probably points that out since I admit that I am a rambler without much aim)

I have, however, been reading articles in magazines and newspapers and online from authors who are consistently writing about subjects that are important to them, yet they are able to add the humor and fun that makes reading their articles entertaining. They are featured writers in their respective columns for a reason. I admire their ability and prose.

For example, I think the ESPN writer Rick Reilly is a hoot. He writes his opinions well and is able to add phrases like: "It's like being named Miss Ogallala. Or Best Amish Electrician." That is funny to me. (read his whole article I took that from here)

Mr. Reilly is knowledgeable on sports. He has an actual opinion and is able to get that point he is trying to make across to a lot of readers. He is able to be funny enough to get those same readers to make a point of reading him consistently.

Another more local newspaper man I enjoy reading is Robert Kirby from the Salt Lake Tribune. He causes a lot of lifted eyebrows in the Mormon community--which is exactly why he writes for the Trib and not for Deseret News, even though he happens to be a member of said community. :) He actually lives near me, and I often pass him in the frozen food section of the local grocery store...his photo looks just like him. Poor guy. ;) An example of his work can be found here That is his piece for today's paper.

In the past when I have thought about the kind of writer I would like to be, I assumed I could just write and all would be well.

Then I attended some writer's conferences and learned that I should write what I know, or get to really know something so that I can write about it. One speaker at a conference said to become an expert in something and then people would want to read your book and have you speak about that subject that you have become an expert on. (Apparently run-on sentences would be a subject I could excel at...and dangling prepositions, and excessive use of parenthesis).

After that particular conference I realized I really have no single minded knowledge of any particular subject. Unless you count 'How to Go Insane with Seven Children or Less', or 'The Best Places in Your House to Hide the Good Snacks'.

I suppose Kirby doesn't have a single subject he is attached to but he has been writing his column so long that no one cares. Now they just read it for the laughs and to see if anyone in their church congregation resembles people he has mocked.

I'm rambling again, I know. But there is a point I am trying to make.

I am shallow and have no focused knowledge of any single subject. So against everything I believe in regarding resolutions, I have finally found one I think I might be able to pull off.

My goal is to write blog entries that will have some sense of meaning. Maybe give anyone who reads the blog a tidbit of information that they never knew before.

I'm not kidding myself (or you). I know that what I write here--even with a concerted effort at having actual meaning--will still be classed as rambling trivia. I can't help that part.

I can help directing the blog from rambling trivia to rambling trivia with some sort of point.

Maybe.

And I can try to keep them light in tone. Which is pretty easy, actually since--Hello--I'm shallow. Remember?

I can't guarantee that you'll learn anything from my blogs. I can't even guarantee that I'll write something funny enough to make you want to keep coming back to see what I write next. I can barely promise myself that I'll come up with a topic to write about that will keep me interested enough to keep writing any particular entry.

The only thing I can guarantee is that the sun will rise tomorrow, I will have to come up with something edible for dinner tonight for my family, and that the water in the pool is easier to adjust to if you just jump right in.

So I'm jumping. No diving. No running. No lifeguard on duty. Just me getting used to learning something new, sharing it here on my blog, and at least giving myself a chuckle out of the whole mess, even if no one else does.

January

I am not a fan of January.

For one thing, it is too stinkin' cold outside. I am a fan of sun and warmth. Snow and ice? Not so much.

For another, it is the new year so I always contemplate resolutions I should make, resolutions I have failed at achieving, and resolutions that I think other people assume I should make. (In other words, I think far too hard about how much extra poundage I have going and try to justify it by saying that at least I haven't GAINED any weight this past year...which in reality only really means that I have officially hit a much too comfortable rut).

Another reason why I'm not a fan of January is that it is my birthday this month. So I'm not only chubby/stocky/pleasantly plump (take your pick)...but I'm old too.

I have decided though--and I'm only putting this down on the blog so that I can look back on it in a year and remind myself of another resolution that I have made (and am still hopeful that I will attain)--that although I can't do anything about getting older, I CAN do something about being heavier than I would like. So I'm back to the "eat less, move more" plan and am doing my best to not label it as a new year's resolution. It is just me deciding that if I can't stop time, I will not be old and fat, but will instead be old and fit.

This year I'm also not a fan of January because my oldest child will turn 16. That brings on a whole other set of worries. Dating, the drama that comes from dating, the boys that cause the drama...I'm not sure I'm ready for this. My daughter is sure she is ready. I wish I had her confidence.

Of course, with my added age and the 'been-there-done-that' that comes with being my advanced age, I can see more of what my daughter is in store for than she does. And she has the added burden of being pretty and nice and friendly to everyone. I had the nice and friendly part down when I was 16, but I was never as self-assured of myself as she is.

I can't decide if that is a good thing for her or a bad thing.

But it doesn't help my worry factor for her at all.

January would probably be more palatable if I snow skied. But I am one of those rare Utahns who has only skied one time. Ever. And the rented skis I had were cheap and the bindings broke on the first run down the mountain. So it wasn't exactly a successful outing.

Skiing wouldn't solve all my problems. I would still be fluffy and old. I would still worry about my 16 year old daughter. And I probably would still prefer the heat over the cold. I just have one hangup about skiing that I've had trouble getting past enough to attempt the sport again, and that is that I don't know how to stop. If I could snow plow, or do the fancy turn that brings me to a standstill, I think skiing might hold some appeal.

But since I can't stop in skis, all I do is picture me hurtling down the frozen mountainside trying to dodge other skiers and various trees, praying that by some miracle I will stop without causing bodily damage to either myself or some unlucky bystander(s).

("Go that way, really fast. If anything gets in your way...turn.")

Maybe I will just stick to working out in my basement, trying to skip the sweets, worrying about my daughter, and trying to stay warm until the sun decides to live in Utah again so I can do some real skiing--the kind that involves water and boats and a single slalom ski.

Hibernating until February would be a nice second option.

To wrap up my rambling first blog of the new year, I'd like to stick with my John Cusak movie quotes. It won't make a whole lot of sense, but it does fit with the whole skipping the sweets theory. That is a grasp at a straw, but I'll take it.

If for no other reason than because I love this quote. :)

"You know, junk food doesn't deserve the bad rap that it gets. Take these pork rinds for example. This particular brand contains two percent of the R.D.A. - that's Recommended Daily Allowance - of riboflavin. "

Happy New Year. :)