Sunday

One day I aspire to be half as cool as my pets.

They Finally Found Me

Okay, I admit it. The only reason I signed up for Facebook was so I could read up on people who graduated from high school with me. I wasn't planning on adding friends or anything- it was just going to be my little duckblind on the information superhighway. Until my brother and sister-in-law found me and sent me emails inviting me to be their Facebook friends. Which led me to send out a host of other friend invites to people I haven't talked to in years.... and assorted family members I only see on holidays. So if you get an email from me, please be nice and respond.

A couple of months ago I undertook a similar project when I was phenomenally bored at work. I googled the best and brightest from my high school class and then surfed the alumni website. In hindsight, I didn't really need to know that Bapu was finished with medical school and working on dual doctorates in Economics and Business Administration. Or that Amanda had been editor of the Harvard Law Review. Or that Priya was married on an elephant. Nothing good can come from knowing stuff like that. Especially when your days are spent rearranging commas for nearly illiterate engineers and consultants.

Googling my name will get you nowhere, so let me fill you in. I didn't graduate on time or from my first-choice college, but I did graduate. With honors. And my health. There was no Asian livestock at my wedding, but there was the man of my dreams and Reader, I married him. And I haven't written my book yet. Truth be told, I'm not even close. But I promise you it will happen.

The internet can help you find a lot of things, but it can't help you find yourself. And it certainly shouldn't be used to define you. Regardless of the number of friends, doctorates, or pachyderms to your name.

And Liberty for Kate

I got a new car.

And I'm still having trouble believing it myself.

No end save victory

Three months.

Three baby showers.

Three wins in baby shower games.

Coincidence?

I think not.

Sheer skill, baby.

Lotto anyone?

An Ode to Roushie Dog

Just realized I've never posted a picture of the family dog, Roushie. Roushie T. Biggins to be exact.

He isn't exactly Lassie, but he isn't Cujo either. Okay, some, including my Dad, would beg to differ, but I feel a lot safer with him around. I don't worry as much about being alone in the house during WLC with Roushie on patrol.

I've never had a dog in the house- our dogs were always outside when I was growing up. The hair everywhere- including my shower mat and shower where he likes to hang out- takes a lot of getting used to. But snuggling with a drowsy dog before getting up for another day of work is certainly worth it. And nothing beats a doggie smile to welcome you home in the evening.

Holiday Takedown

Just finished undecorating the Christmas tree, a chore that is never fun, but certainly necessary to keep from looking like a forgotten cousin of the Beverly Hillbillies. I do know people who leave up their tree until Valentine's Day, changing from Christmas to Winter to Valentine's decorations. I just don't have the inclination to prolong a season that already seems to begin right after Labor Day.

There's something calming about removing the ornaments one by one, winding the ribbon garland back into a roll, putting the boxes back in order. It gives some order to the end of the season. Unlike the neighborhood department stores, nothing is on my floor, broken into a million pieces and 50-no-75-no-90% off. There's something very disheartening about seeing people fight over discounted tinsel, once the fa la la la las are gone, it's back to push and shove, every man for himself.

I love Christmas. But I also love the getting back to normal time that comes after Christmas. The continuing, and the starting over. It's hard to live up to Christmas expectations every single day. We hold our breath that our houses are clean enough, the presents are good enough, the food is tasty enough, until we finally realize enough is enough. We celebrate in November and December, we exhale in January.

Resolved...

I resolved not to make any resolutions this year. Not because there isn't LARGE room for improvement, but because I hate knowing I've broken one. Or several. Or every one I've ever made. I don't know why we feel we must tie the albatross of failure around our necks as a way of celebrating the New Year. So this year I didn't do it. At least I didn't write one down. That counts, doesn't it?

Like most people, I would like to use my time in 2009 getting physically active, dare I say it, fit. I'm not expecting miracles from my little appointments with the elliptical trainer. I doubt anyone will be mistaking me for Beyonce anytime soon.

Okay, K, I hear you laughing- I meant besides the obvious reasons no one would mistake me for Beyonce.

So T, my most intrepid, most handsome, and most able-to-put-up-with-my-silliness companion, and I go to the gym near our house whenever we can. We try not to go when it's too crowded- a difficult feat right after New Year's. I like seeing all of the people in the new workout gear they got for Christmas, although I expect WiiFit may have given some of the gyms a run for their money this year. I prefer Guitar Hero and we don't have a Wii (yet anyway- no hint there, I swear honey- although I know the way we operate), so I guess I'll have to stick with the gym.

Hopefully we'll keep going. I have a feeling the monthly gym membership fees will be a pretty good inspiration after good intentions lose their power. So if you're looking for me, I'm the one in the baseball cap singing along with her ipod and trying not to fall off of the equipment. I would like to say that's a joke, but I did end up severely spraining my ankle during my introductory consultation appointment at Curves three or four years ago. And yes, I'd like to say that was a joke too.

Resolved, exercise can be dangerous to the health. But so can making resolutions willy-nilly. And I'm usually a big fan of doing things willy-nilly.

kms 2009