Tuesday, February 22, 2005 ~ 08:03 p.m.
Tonight I attended my very first Pilates class. It was a small class, only five of us, and most of them were beginners, like me.
I didn't want to try Yoga. I'm all about stretching and control, but I'm not big on the New Age crap. Pilates, though, is great. I enjoyed it enough that I went ahead and paid for the five class pass. The class is actually two nights a week, but because of Movie Night, I can only make Tuesdays.
I was also toying with idea of going back to the Huntsville Community Ballet and taking their adult ballet classes again. I actually wanted modern dance, but they don't offer it for adults. Sadly, all the adult ballet classes are in the morning (while I'm working) or at 6:30 on Thursday night. I guess that means I have to look around at some of the other dance studios in town.
Anyway, it was a good end to the day. I'm looking forward to next Tuesday.
I've never made this, but it sounds like Heaven.
Tuesday, February 22, 2005 ~ 10:17 a.m.
I am bored. And I'm craving chocolate (I know, how very stereotypical). Therefore, I want to go home and make this:
Chocolate Chocolate Chip Bundt Cake
Preheat the oven to 350°.
Put the following ingredients into a large mixing bowl:
1 box Devils Food Cake mix (no pudding in the mix)
1 box chocolate pudding, instant
3/4 c. water
1/4 c. oil
1 c. sour cream (or you can use plain yogurt--not nonfat)
Using an electric mixer, beat the above until smooth and a little fluffy.
12 oz. chocolate chips
Grease a bundt cake pan. Even if you use a nonstick pan, butter it well. Pour the batter evenly into the pan. Bake for 50-60 min. Let cool on a rack. Carefully slide a knife around the sides and remove the cake by tipping it over onto a plate. Top with a sprinkling of powdered sugar just before serving.
For the record, I have no memory of where I got this recipe. It was just lurking on my hard drive.
Last night's confined space training was actually really interesting. A large part of it focused on the paperwork, but we also learned all the various ways you can hurt or kill yourself in these things. Turns out 56% of casualties in confined spaces are from people suffocating - something I didn't know. But usally that's in tanks and the like. In caissons, the only real threats are water and carbon monoxide. Honestly, my only worry when I'm in a caisson is that someone above will be looking into the hole and drop their damn hardhat on me.
The other interesting factoid we learned was that you hardly ever find only one victim in a confined space accident. Usually, you find the first person, and then you find his (or her) buddies who tried to help. Not that we have to worry about that at QORE:
"Hey, Shane's in trouble down there."
"Aw hell. Well, just pour the concrete."
This morning, one of the dogs whizzed in the middle of the kitchen floor in amounts I didn't know an elephant could store. Why is it that every day this week seems to have begun with cleaning up some form of pet mess? I think they miss Todd.
You know, I miss him too, but I'm not vomiting on the carpet or whizzing in the corner. That's just not how I express myself.
Funny Quote Time:
"I used to think that "Trading Spaces" on TLC was the worst show on television. Giving the neighbors $1,000 to impose their bad taste upon your home is just hideous. Then I saw "Clean Sweep," where they throw out all your stuff, and I thought it could get no worse. Now I've seen "It Takes a Thief," in which people let real burglars break into their houses and steal their stuff. Can it get any worse?
If you say "It Takes a Rapist," you are going straight to hell."
- One of my pet peeves is women who go around proclaiming how "hot" they are. It makes me want to smack them. Or tell them that they look fat in those pants. I also hate Christian nutters. And if this is for real* (and not some offshoot of Landover Baptist), then this woman is epitome of all that I hate about both categories: Date To Save - "Calling all Hot Women of the LORD!!!" *gag*
*There is absolutely nothing on the webpage to suggest that Date to Save is not real, except for its utter absurdity. You be the judge.
- I love the South. I do. But I really think we could do without a large portion of our population. Especially the part that ignores the separation of church and state to pass petty laws enshrining hatred and prejudice. You know, instead of doing something worthwhile.
Tuesday, February 15, 2005 ~ 09:35 a.m.
Reasons why today is not shaping up to be the greatest day ever:
- Cat vomit
- Cat vomit on the DESK
- Continuing clumsiness and the resulting bruises and burns
- Stumbling across stuff I'd rather not read about
- Todd left this morning for 10 days in North Carolina
- The house is a mess
- My hair is about 18 inches too long, about 10 times too frizzy, and needs to be chopped off
- I'm too much of a coward to chop off my hair
- Too much stuff to worry about
- People are dumb
Public Service Announcement, Part II
Thursday, February 10, 2005 ~ 02:56 p.m.
Do, however, try the Staggs Chili. It's the perfect size for office lunches, comes in a little box that's easy to store in your desk or cabinet, and is surprisingly tasty. In fact, the Country Style variety tastes suspiciously like homemade.
You don't see the Croc Hunter wrassling cats...
Tuesday, February 8, 2005 ~ 11:59 a.m.
Just another night at the Watts-Yeldell Zoo.
Stitch the Fatass is a disgusting little cat. At risk of too much information, I'll just say that she's gotten too fat to properly wash her butt and leave it at that. Lately, her..uhm...state has become intolerable. It was obvious that we were going to have to bathe the cat.
But there's a catch. You see, Stitch is a bit too high-strung for me to place in an open tub of water. For all her fatness, she's surprisingly nimble when it comes to clawing open major arteries. Also, I'm fairly certain that throwing the cat into the dishwasher with a dab of shampoo could be considered animal abuse. The last thing I need is to end up on national television in an episode of Animal Cops.
So, last night, in lieu of actual water, I attempted to wash the cat using these new-fangled "pet wipes" Todd and I found at PetsMart. I said to myself, "They're soft, barely damp, and deodorizing. The cat can just lay there while I gently wipe her down and no one has to lose any blood. Perfect." Oh, was I wrong.
The moment that clammy damp cloth touched her tender stinking ass, Stitch was in full Cuisenart mode. Sixteen claws sank into my lightly-clothed leg and both of us let out a bloodcurdling howl. What followed was not pretty.
Several scratches, curses, and tackles later (after a short period where we were both crouched under the coffee table with teeth bared, glaring and growling our mutual hatred) it ended with Stitch rolled into a towel like some bizarre, blue, cat-sized burrito. With most of the pointy bits contained, I gingerly proceeded to finish what I had started while Todd held her down.
Over the river and through the woods
Monday, February 7, 2005 ~ 10:06 a.m.
Weekends are never long enough, are they?
Todd and I left Huntsville Friday night and headed up to Boone, North Carolina to visit his dad and Melissa. It's not a terribly long drive up to their place, but it's long enough to make you wish you were staying for more than a day and a half.
We didn't really do much the whole weekend - mostly we were just lazy. Saturday we braved the icy roads and drove out to the Genesis Wildlife Sanctuary. It's a pretty awesome place, although their facilities are in desperate need of someone who actually knows how to build. The rest of the afternoon, we just wandered aimlessly around Beech Mountain. Sunday, we just lazed around before going for a short hike around the river. Looking back, I think most of our time was spent eating. ;-)
Happy Groundhog Day
Wednesday, February 2, 2005 ~ 09:36 a.m.
It's February. Cue the gray skies and cold rain.
February and I have a history of not getting along. I'll admit that a lot of our mutual dislike was probably due to the Concrete Canoe, but it was never a very kind month. Now, with things going so well in life and the marked absence of any concrete boats, I think February and I have established a truce for 2005.
Greg and I helped Jessica move boxes to her new apartment last Friday. Now I wish I'd moved into Paddock Club instead of Flagstone. Between the fireplace, the screened-in porch, and the gigantic bathtub, her apartment is pretty awesome. It's not new by any means, but it's not in bad shape. And it's a hundred times improved from where she was living before.
I took a couple pictures of her place, which hopefully she'll post sometime soon. *nudge* I also took a pretty good (albeit slightly blurred) picture of Jessica, which she will never post. So here it is.