Sore Sunday Summary

7 Mile- Rode my bike 7 miles yesterday, oooooh yeah. I've lost a little weight since my doctor took away milk and vegetables, but I noticed a little bump in my numbers lately and I think it could be Lyrica's weight gain side-effect rearing its ugly head...so now, not only is it not working but it's also making me even bigger. Fantastic.

But my appointment with Dr. S. is coming up, so that will be good.

My legs huuuuurt. My goodness. It was much too far for my first time out in weeks...but I needed to get Herbert's birthday present on the off-chance I ever see him again now that he's at school all the time. Oh, Herbert.

Speaking of Herbert, it's his 25th birthday today. I wish a very merry birthday to a very sweet, and very darling, young man. He's a good boy, and I'm lucky to know him.

And, speaking of weight, now that I think of it, I'd like to be 140 pounds or less for Lisa's wedding next September, so I've got a little less than a year to lose 40 pounds-- which is why I'm instituting Wednesday Weigh-Ins. Wednesday Weigh-Ins will include pictures of both the scale and me to watch the pounds slip off, and information on health and fitness, and I'll try to get some other bloggers in on it as well so it'll be like a...like a blog for health kind of thing. It'll be cute. Maybe we could do like a battle of the sexes-- whichever side loses more weight gets...gets...gets, at the very least, bragging rights.

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Family Fishermen: Today was the annual Governor's Tournament...I think. Anyway, it was some fishing tournament my dad and his brothers and close friends go to every year to lose epic-ly. They did not disappoint this year.

One interesting thing they learned, though, is that not only is there something a seagull won't eat, but that they could also vomit. Who knew? Seagulls eat rotting fish heads and out of garbage cans, but gag after eating kielbasa.

So do I, seagulls...so do I.

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Pants, Pants, Pants, and Pants: Many pants do be dealt with in the household. My parents love having a seamstress in the house, they make me fix everything. I have to let out my dad's pants, I need to hem mine, Mom and I went pants shopping...lots of pants.

Which reminds me, I need to write that letter to the director of my old high school's spring musical to offer my services as a costumer. I figure, why not? It's something to do. Maybe I can even get $20 out of the deal. Shoot.

The thing is, I'm so exhausted after subbing...I'm really, really afraid I won't be able to handle everything...guess I won't know for sure until I try, eh?

Sometimes I wonder what I'd do if I wasn't sick. Like go to school for design, maybe...audition for Project Runway...or textile restoration, I was thinking about that for a little while.

At the very least my kids will have the best Halloween costumes on the block.

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The Great Curl Project: I've made a great stride in the curl project. I'm still overwhelmed with insane amounts of frizz, but Dove's Damage Therapy Daily Moisture shampoo has been a big help in the battle. I've also stopped brushing my hair-- full stop, and I only brush it when it's dripping with conditioner to minimize breakage, damage, and tangles. I shower at about 4 now, then leave my hair in a loose braid until I'm about to go to bed, when I put in 9 foam curlers on the ends of my hair and sleep in a satin cap. My hair's so soft now, and the curls are very pretty and natural looking, I'm pretty happy. I wish there was less frizz, of course, but I think there's been major improvement. I'll include a picture in the Wednesday Weigh-In post.

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Upcoming Posts: The Lion King Review, Actor Analysis: Zooey Deschanel, reviews of Helen Keller's The World I Live In and Phillipa Gregory's The Constant Princess, and the first Wednesday Weigh In.

Reindeer Games are Next

My fourth post included a section where I talked about Monkey Hookers. Long story short, a group of scientists taught a group of monkeys how to use "money" and almost as soon as they did they noticed a monkey exchange "money" for sex. So...monkey hookers. No, I'm not kidding.

I love animal stories. I love animals in general. In fact, when we took Manny to see Cars 2 there was a trailer for Dolphin Tale and I started crying, just from the trailer. I can't even think about Homeward Bound...Free Willy, My Dog Skip, Beethoven...I won't even watch Marley & Me or I Am Legend because I know the dog dies and that'll tear me up.

Interesting, in that last sentence you could read it like "tear me up inside" or "to tear up while watching Brian's Song" and they're both right.

When I said I love animal stories I meant I love news stories about animals and the cool things they do that are human-ish. Like prostitution.

Another article, published about a year ago, really made my day but my parents didn't care. I think it's awesome: gorillas play tag. Like, "Tag, you're it!" tag. How great is that? It's like those stupid rhymes and songs you learn growing up, like one of my all-time favorite books (A Tree Grows in Brooklyn-- get it and read it. Read it now) says, all kids learn the same group of songs and nobody really knows why or where it's from, or how it started. In tag's case, at least, it's something we're born with. One monkey punches another monkey then runs away, and the punchee chases after it. If the punchee manages to punch the first monkey back they switch roles, just like kids. How cool is that?

And you know what else? Parrots name their babies!!! Parrot parents (say that 5 times fast) assign each baby a sound and the baby keeps it for life-- even other parrots use the baby's sound to communicate with it.

Animals aren't nearly as dumb as we tend to think they are.