The Best Of: Rock Stars

So, since we covered my favorite movie characters and since I've been spending so much time on YouTube listening to music and watching concerts, I thought I would cover my favorite rock stars. I'm not sure exactly what it is about these guys that works, but whatever it is, it definitely works. Again, these are in no particular order because picking a favorite is simply impossible since they all bring something different to the table.

Beginning with Gavin Rossdale, I remember waiting in line to get my copy of Sixteen Stone with my best friend. I then ran home and listened to it over and over again while reading along with the lyrics until I knew every single word by heart. It's still one of my all time favorite CDs.



Next, we have Eddie Vedder. I remember my mom saying that he looks like the devil, so I went out of my way to get a smiling picture of Ed, but I do prefer him scowling for whatever reason. Freshman year of high school, I got Pearl Jam's Ten and to this day, it remains my favorite all-time CD. If I had to use a word to describe Mr. Vedder, it would probably be intense.



Moving right along, we come to Chris Cornell. I remember my friend Meg saying that he looks like the devil...wait...are you seeing a pattern here? Anyway, back when the Irishman and I were just silly high school kids sitting around watching MTV, I would have a forced moment of silence whenever a Soundgarden video was on. Watching Chris Cornell took all of my adolescent attention.



Bono. One name that requires no explanation at all. I have no earthly clue what it is about him that puts him on this list, except he definitely belongs here and I'm sure that 1.8 million other people would agree with me.



Finally, we have a newcomer to the list. Joe Jonas. He's probably a little pretty for my taste, but hey, I wrote this list off the cuff and he came to mind, so here he is. If I was 12, I'd probably have the picture that I cut out of Bop magazine (is that still around??) hanging on my wall. Fortunately, I'm not 12 and if any of you tell anyone else that he's on my list...wait, he is over 18 years old right??

This Week's Soundtrack

So, I thought it would be fun to sum up my week by ascribing a soundtrack to it. Here is this week's soundtrack. It's definitely been an interesting week. Just click on the name to hear the song. I'm taking a risk and predicting tomorrow's song in advance, but I'll let you know if it changes...

Monday: Whitesnake, Here I Go Again

Tuesday: Pink Floyd, Comfortably Numb

Wednesday: Fiona Apple, Across the Universe (Beatles Cover)

Thursday: AC/DC, Highway To Hell

Friday: Def Leppard, Pour Some Sugar On Me

***FYI - Michael Phelps is slated to host SNL for their season premiere on Sept. 13***

By The Light Of The Moon

About a week or two ago, I came home pretty late and looked up to see this fog shrouded moon. I ran inside and grabbed my camera because the smokiness of the clouds captivated me, but I completely forgot that I had taken this picture until I downloaded it tonight.

I'm generally a morning person, so it's not often that I find myself out in the quiet darkness. While I prefer the full disclosure of daytime, there's definitely something intriguing about the night. It's as if we are shrouded in a layer of mystery, which offers us the chance to be a different version of ourselves. Imperfections and intentions are hidden beneath the gauze of the moon and we find a new boldness that allows us to say and do things that we wouldn't otherwise.

Yes, I can definitely understand why some prefer the night. As for me, I'll keep my sun and blue skies as regular companions and night as the mistress that I visit when I get restless.

Too Much Thought

It's rare that I actually get into a new TV show, particularly one that has a continuing story line week after week. I just don't like the commitment of needing to see a show; however, last week, a friend of mine handed me the entire first season of Prison Break and said, "just watch it." So, this past weekend (facing 16 hours in a car roundtrip), I brought along my computer and headphones and set off to give it a whirl.



Now I must say that, in addition to having a seriously good looking lead actor, the show is quite compelling. The thing that I like best about it is that it doesn't pull it's punches. It stays true to the brutality that exists in prison and it shows that people exist in shades of gray being neither entirely good nor bad, but generally falling somewhere in between.

There's just one thing that doesn't sit well with me. Actually, this one thing exists in all rescue type situations (whether the rescue is from prison or from natural disasters) and I've never really understood it.

Why does the death toll of the rescuers always exceed the lives that would have been lost had the rescue never been attempted?

For example, three climbers are stranded in an avalanche. Twelve search party volunteers set out in treacherous conditions to attempt the rescue against all odds. Six members of the search party end up losing their lives in the attempt while two members of the stranded climbers also fall victim to the elements. What I don't understand is that, at the end of the day, six people died to save one. Now don't get me wrong, if I'm that one person, I'd be damn grateful, but I just don't understand the trade-off that's involved.

At first I thought that there must be something about human nature that doesn't allow us to just sit back and watch people die if there's any chance that they can be saved. Whether it's rescuing someone sitting on death row for a crime that he didn't commit or digging climbers out of an avalanche, we are compelled to act even when the odds are against us. But there's one thing that I don't understand about this - why are we willing to save people who are so difficult to save while we ignore people in dire need of help on a daily basis? We walk by the homeless without a second glance and listen with bored ears to news stories about genocides in Africa, yet we are moved to tears by stories of stranded families and missing persons. I guess it all comes back to relatability. Most of us are not homeless and our families are not being slaughtered in Africa, but any one of us can become stranded or abducted.

Obviously, I've given this way too much thought and while I'm now compelled to watch the next three seasons of the show, I will always be thinking in the back of my mind, "at what cost is he being saved?"

This Just Doesn't Get Old

Is it a random day in 2008? Oh, it is?? Then it must be time for another round of Parker and Payton pics. To tell you the truth, I just can't get enough of these two characters. The Irishman keeps lobbying for another child, but really, Parker couldn't ask for a better buddy or sibling than our very own Payton.

"Well hi there little fella, do you mind if I share this couch with you?"



"Um, do you mind scooting over just a tad? I don't have enough room over here."



"Thank you, that's much better."



"Goodness, it looks like I might be squishing your tail."



"Gosh, I'm really sorry about that little buddy. Here, let me give you a hug to make up for it."





"Hey, you make a pretty nice pillow...I think I'll just take a little snooze here if you don't mind."



Payton, enough with the "woe is me" expression...we know you love him.

Silhouette

So, I'm a little bit in love with this picture. To give you the full story behind it, one day last week, the Irishman was outside working on the yard and Parker was desperate to join him. He kept pacing back and forth, calling out, "da-dee, da-dee." (You see, Parker is in a really big "da-dee" phase at the moment. Don't get me wrong, if he's sick...or tired...or hungry...or needy, he still wants me. But for the rest of the time, well, the rest of the time he is all about his dad. They play together and wrestle together. Parker tries on his dad's size 13 shoes and stumbles around the house in them. Anyway, you get the point.)

So my husband, hearing his son's desperate cries, would periodically come by the storm door and spray it with water from the hose. Parker would crack up and then go back to his pleas...waiting...and knowing, that his dad would come by again soon to spray more water at him.

I was sitting on the couch enjoying this little game and watching Parker's sweet silhouette as he paced back and forth. What you see in the picture is what I saw with my eyes. Even when he turned back towards me to laugh, I couldn't see his face with the sun filtering through the doorway behind him. Regardless, his silhouette, like his laugh, would be completely recognizable to me from a mile away.

Queen of Denial

So I have a fatal flaw - I am the Queen of Denial, particularly when it comes to emotionally charged situations. You see, I'm a thinker, not a feeler. I approach every situation with logic and I make decisions based on a cost-benefit analysis. I lead with my head and not my heart. In fact, it annoys the crap out of me that 97% of all songs are about love and relationships and blah, blah, blah. I think you get the point.

As a result, I don't consider myself the best person to go to for emotional support because I will almost always try to fix things instead of just hearing you out. Here's the problem though...there are some things that you just can't fix and this is where my denial issue comes in. I just try my best to stay as busy as possible and avoid the situation. I didn't say it was functional or rational, but unfortunately, it's my default defense mechanism. There's just one big problem about denial. It will fail you at the most inopportune time.

My best friend's mom fought and lost a battle with cancer over 4 years ago. From the time of the diagnosis, I was moving at warp speed trying to be helpful. I cleaned my friend's house and walked her dogs. I did research and tried to be available whenever possible. At the memorial service, I wrote checks for the priest and helped get everyone seated. I thought I was doing pretty well and I was...right up until the moment when I walked onto the altar to read a passage from the bible.

It was at that exact moment that everything caught up with me. The reality of the situation and the size of our loss just hit me like a two by four. And I lost it. I started sobbing like I've never sobbed before. Standing behind the podium with a microphone amplifying my sorrow, I simply could not keep it together. Looking out at all of my friends and their families, I did my best to get through the reading, but it wasn't pretty. In fact, I'm sure it was as painful to watch as it was to experience.

Now, I'm not a crier. And I'm certainly not prone to shedding tears in public, but that day, I completely fell apart. In hindsight, I know exactly where I went wrong. I didn't allow myself to grieve. I didn't say goodbye in my heart because in my mind, I felt like if I didn't acknowledge it then it wasn't really happening. Brilliant, I know.

Now, I still don't do goodbyes at all (but that's a whole other post in and of itself), but I felt like I got better at acknowledging loss. Apparently, I overestimated myself. You see, the Irishman's beloved aunt is losing her battle with cancer and I feel like I'm in a really bad flashback. We're driving down there this weekend. I'm almost frantic with trying to keep my mind busy because this just can't be happening again. It's so sad and so frustrating and there isn't a damn thing that I can do about it. So, I'll make coffee for everyone and handle whatever needs handling at the moment...anything to not have to feel. I already know that I'm heading for disaster, but I don't seem to be able to change my trajectory. The only good news is that pregnancy loosened my tear ducts, so maybe I can manage to shed all of my tears in private instead of making a big 'ol scene. In a phrase, cancer bites the big one.

Kotopoulo Lemonato (Lemon Chicken)

You guys are really in for a treat. In the spirit of generosity, I decided to share one of my mom's recipes with you. I'm all about sharing the love these days and you are all about to benefit in a big way. This lemon chicken is amazingly easy to make and the taste, well, let's just say that I could make it every single week for an entire year and the Irishman wouldn't tire of it.

Ok, let's get down to business. Here are the cast of characters: A whole chicken, a 5 lb. bag of potatoes, 2 large lemons, 2 onions, olive oil, oregano, salt and pepper. Yup, that's it.



(Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.) First, we're going to peel and wash the potatoes. Since the Irishman is indeed Irish, I always go ahead and peel the entire bag. Potatoes are a hot item in this household.



Then, we're going to cut the potatoes into slightly larger than bite sized pieces. You want to make sure that they're roughly the same size so that they cook evenly. I just throw them directly into my roasting pan as I chop 'em up.



Speaking of which, I'd like to draw your attention to my roasting pan. My mom received it as a wedding present in 1973 and it got passed onto me a couple of years ago. I love cooking with this pan because it's been so thoroughly used and so well loved. I like how it looks slightly beaten up and while I could probably scour it back into pristine shape, I kind of like it just as it is.



Moving right along, dice up your onions and throw them right on top of the potatoes.



Now, we're going to add a healthy amount of olive oil (remember, we have 5 lbs. of potatoes in there). I'd say about a quarter cup is good here. Just drizzle it right on top of the potatoes. This is also when we're going to add our salt, pepper, oregano and lemon. Squeeze one and a half of your lemons directly onto the potatoes and add about 1 tablespoon each of salt, pepper and oregano.



Now, take a large spoon (or use your hands if you feel like walking on the wild side) and mix it all around so the potatoes are all coated nicely.

You still with me? Good. Now, take you chicken out of the bag and rinse it. My organic chicken didn't come with all of extra parts in the body cavity, but you'll want to check the inside of your chicken to make sure that there isn't a plastic bag shoved in there. Here's where I get lazy. Technically, my mom cuts the chicken into 2-4 pieces. Now, I personally hate manhandling raw chicken, so I just make sure that I have a small one and I just lay it on there whole (breast side down). I'm such a rebel...ok, ok, or just lazy.



Once your chicken is resting comfortably on it's bed of potatoes, go ahead an drizzle a little olive oil, the rest of the lemon juice and a sprinkle of salt, pepper and oregano over the top of it.

One of my mom's secrets is that she puts an entire peeled onion and several pieces of lemon rind inside of the body cavity. I hate to do this to you Mrs. Chicken. You've obviously suffered enough indignity in your life, but mom says that it's the only way to go, so I hope you'll forgive me.



Ok, the prep is done. In all honestly, the entire process took me about 15 minutes. Seriously, you can totally make this! Now, put the roasting pan in the over (remember to remove the top rack so that it fits) and bake at 350 degrees for 60 minutes. After 60 minutes, flip the bird over with tongs and bake for another 45 minutes. You know it's done when you poke it with a fork and the juices run clear.



Mmmm, can you smell that? Ok, you can't yet, but just wait until you make this wholesome dish. It smells like my mom's kichen and nothing in this world can bring back sweeter memories than that. Oh and this could probably feed a family of four, but in my house, this will last two meals (and I don't even eat meat!). Enjoy!

Generosity

I think that it's important to teach Parker how to share. I have to say that I'm really impressed with my own generosity.



I'm working on the finishing touches of a recipe that I'll post at some point tomorrow. It's my mom's Greek Lemon Chicken and Potatoes - easy and delicious!

Am I The Slacker Mom?

As I sit here at the coffee shop after dropping Parker off at school, I can't help but wonder if the other parents think that I'm "the slacker mom." You see, as they arrived in business suits and dresses to drop off their children, I was in my running shorts, tank top and Nike hat ready to head to the gym. What got me thinking about this was that another mom was at the coffee shop this morning and asked, "are you Parker's mom?" When I answered in the affimative, she said, "I recognized your baseball cap." Oh dear. If this were an isolated occurrence, I wouldn't even give it a second thought, but you see, I'm dressed like this about 90% of the time that I go to his school.

In the parenting world, the slacker mom (or dad) is the one who neither works nor is a stay at home parent. The caveat to this is that their children aren't old enough to attend public school, so they're paying for daycare/school. Obviously, I have more jobs than I know what to do with, but I work my own hours and I fit them in around my workout schedule, so it just happens that I'm WAY underdressed at the times that Parker gets dropped off and picked up. It also doesn't help that I look about 20 years old with no make-up and a baseball cap. So, I'm now the slacker mom who got pregnant way too young. Great.

I find myself slipping in work references whenever I'm in conversation with the parents of Parker's little friends so that they think I have some credibility. Of course, this isn't always a good thing considering my line of work. For example, there's a parent log next to the sign in sheet where parents communicate any special instructions for that day. This is what brilliant me wrote in it last week:

I'm going to be in prison where I cannot be reached by phone. Please contact my husband if you need anything.

I got no fewer than three inquiries of, "what were you doing in prison??" when I picked Parker up at the end of the day. So, here's the bottom line - I need to work on my parenting image. It dawned on me that it's going to be an endless parade of meet and greets over the next 17 years or so and my usual aloof self is just not going to cut it. Being an introvert definitely has it's disadvantages. I'm breaking into a cold sweat just thinking about PTA and Booster meetings, which other parents often use to establish cliques and committees. It's like high school, part 2. *Shudder* Maybe I can talk the Irishman into going. He'd gain points for being the involved dad and I can avoid interacting with strangers...yes, I think that is a brilliant idea!

Pounding the Pavement

There's something so refreshing about leaving your house when it's still completely dark outside. At 6:15am on a Sunday morning, I encountered fewer than 5 cars driving out the meet the group. When I got to the starting point, there were a couple new people that I hadn't met before, one of which is running the Disney Marathon as well.

So, we set off at 6:30am, in the dark, to pound the pavement. Most of the runners had GPS watches, which made it easy when we split up into three groups. The first group was running a quick 4-miler, the second group was aiming for 6 miles and the last group, which consisted of me and the other Disney marathoner decided to go for 8 miles. Is two people still considered a group?

It was a nice, easy pace and it was quiet enough in the area that we could run in the middle of the street. Around mile 3, we watched the sunrise over the lake, which was a spectacular view. I really wish I had my camera with me, but somehow, I think running with my Nikon isn't really practical.



Around mile 5, we snuck onto the Golf Club grounds to sneak some water from their water cooler and around mile 6, I realized that the water wasn't such a great idea. Luckily, my running partner knew all of the ins and outs of the area and pointed me in the direction of a nice cluster of bushes that I could use as cover to relieve myself. I have to say that that's the first time I've peed outdoors since my sophomore year in college, but we'll save that fun little story for another time.

We finished out the last two miles easily and then cooled down. It was nice to meet someone who's training for the same marathon (and who owns a GPS watch to track our distance) and who runs at the same pace. It looks like we're going to start meeting every Sunday morning to tackle the long runs together and I have to say, I'm somewhat relieved. It's so much easier for me to stick with it when I know that someone is suffering along side me and none of my regular friends are sadomasicistic enough to punish their bodies every weekend.

Mileage

Since I signed up for the triathlon last week, I've been thinking about the fact that I haven't ridden a bike outdoors in over two years. While I've been spinning about three days a week, I was a little bit nervous about how that would translate to road mileage. When one of my friends from the gym invited me to ride the St. Marks Trail at 7am this morning, I jumped at the chance to get my on my bike.

I wasn't sure what experience level all of the other riders were, but I've ridden the St. Marks trail (32 miles) for years, so I wasn't too worried about it. Plus, I would rather fall over and die than get left behind on a group ride, so my will if nothing else would allow me to keep up. So, I had the Irishman inflate my bike tires and hook up the bike carrier to the truck and I was off at 6:40am to meet the group at the trail head.

When I got there, the only thing that gave me pause was the fact that the other 4 riders had high-end road bikes and I was riding on my Trek hybrid, which while competent, is sorely lacking in speed. Unfortunately (or fortunately if you have $5K to spend), cycling is one sport where your equipment is absolutely tied to your performance. In other words, you can peddle your heart out on a tricycle, but you're not going to get very far very fast.

Anyway, I suited up with my helmet and gloves (safety first) and we set off. I have to say that this was a pretty fast group. When I used to ride the trail with my friend Nicole, we would average probably 15-17 mph. We weren't out to kill ourselves, but we were slacking either. Well, on the ride this morning, we averaged 21-24 mph. Yeah, that's pretty dang fast for my heavy hybrid. I have to say that I was working pretty hard to keep up with the monster wheels on the road bikes, but fortunately, I like the chase, so it was a lot of fun staying with the group.

All in all, it was a really enjoyable ride. The sun was just coming up and the wind was blowing nicely. There's definitely a rush associated with going over 20 mph on a bike. When our ride was over, one of the cyclists said, "damn Cyn, I'd like to see what you could do on a road bike." I laughed because the only thought running through my head was for the better part of the ride was, "I have GOT to get a better bike!"

It was pretty brutal on my quads, but I'm glad that I made a good impression because all of the riders are triathletes, so they'll make good training partners for all three sports. In fact, I'm meeting them tomorrow morning for a 6am run. While I think I can hold my own there as well, I'm really looking forward to Wednesday morning when I'm meeting them at the pool.

Apprehension

So, I'm getting into something new. Something that I've been wanting to do for a long time, but never really gave careful consideration to until recently. After much ado, I'm getting a motorcycle sometime in the next couple of weeks.

While this may seem completely out of left field, there's a certain method to my random madness. The first thing I do when I consider taking up a new hobby/mode of transportation/obsession is research it like crazy. What I mean by that is that I spend every free minute that I have learning everything there is to know about my new interest. Ranging from the best safety gear to crash statistics, I can guarantee you that I leave no stone unturned in my quest for knowledge. I generally don't dive into any endeavor headfirst without knowing exactly what I'm getting myself into.

The next step was signing up for a Motorcycle Safety Foundation Course. I'll learn the basics of bike safety there and I'll also get a discount on my insurance. It's a good thing that I had every intention of taking it because as of July 1st, 2008, all individuals applying for a motorcycle license need to have taken the course.

Once I was signed up for the course, I set about getting all of my gear (which is completely functional as well as very cool). I ordered a leather jacket, leather gloves and leather riding boots. The jacket and boots both have body armor so that in the event of a crash, I'm better protected. The other piece of gear that I still need to figure out is motorcycle pants. Apparently, jeans will only protect you for about a 5-foot skid and obviously that's not very far. The only problem is that these are my other pant options:

1. Leather pants (I'm not sure I want to teach classes in full leather)
2. Chaps (um, yeah)
3. Overpants (which basically are big body armor pants that you pull over your regular pants)

I need to go try some of these options on, but based on the new biker lingo I picked up, you want to wear ATGATT (all the gear all the time), otherwise you're just a squid (someone completely stupid who rides around unsafely). Ok, ok, I promise not to use my new biker terminology in regular conversations.

So, I managed to pick up 70% of the gear that I needed without ever having stepped foot in an actual store. Unfortunately, the two things that I still needed (an actual motorcycle and a helmet) required an in-store visit.

Let me preface my apprehension by saying that it is really annoying to be a female walking into any situation where you're dealing with men who think that women don't know what they're talking about. The classic annoying as hell scenario is buying a car. I can guarantee you that I know more about cars (ALL cars) than 90% of the men that I know. Still, without fail, I have to essentially brow beat the salesmen with my knowledge to get them to speak to me about something other than the color of the car or how soft the leather seats are. Even in a bicycle shop, where I can spout off all of the bike components and talk about suspension and frame weight with the best of them do I have a hard time getting someone to take me seriously.

So, imagine my apprehension sitting in front of the Harley Davidson dealership gathering the nerve to go inside. It didn't help that I had just driven back from the prison and was dressed in grey dress slacks, heels and a black sweater. Certainly not biker attire. Never one to shy away from any situation, I firmed my resolve and walked inside. I thought that I would try on helmets first since that's less intimidating than straddling a 500 lb. motorcycle. The guy at the front counter directed me to the helmet guy and I explained what I wanted (full face helmet for optimum safety, etc...)

Then something shocking happened. He started speaking to me as if I knew exactly what he was saying, which I did. We had a 15 minute conversation about the different safety gear and the different helmet types (I'm happy to say that I made good decisions on the rest of my gear) and after I told him that I was going to think on the helmet, he walked me over to the bike salesman. "Great," I thought, "this is when it should get ugly." But it didn't. I told him that I was taking the MSF course and it turns out that he's on a softball team with the guy who runs it and then we spent about 30 minutes talking about all of the different types of motorcycles that would work with my needs. Simply amazing. Both guys offered to help in any way they could (whether I went with a Harley or not) and welcomed me back anytime. I walked out of that store completely dumbfounded.

Fast forward a couple of days and I needed to go to a couple of other motorcycle dealers. I figured that the Harley guys were an exception and prepared myself for the worst as I went into the second shop. (I felt a little more comfortable because I was at least in jeans this time.) You know what, they were really helpful too! I tried on about 5 different helmets (turns out that I'm a size small in some helmets and an extra-small in others) and I sat on 4 different bikes. The bike salesman was even googling images of the bikes that he thought would work best for me...and they weren't even bikes that he sold!

So, here are my conclusions. Motorcycle salesmen are polite, friendly and blow car salesmen out of the water when it comes to dealing with women. Helmets are not for clausterphobic people. Walking a 500 lb. motorcycle out of a parking spot is a lot harder than it looks. Motorcycles are much larger in person than they appear to be on the internet.

I'll definitely keep you guys posted as my quest for the perfect motorcycle continues....

Food/Exercise log:

Breakfast: Kashi breakfast bar, coffee

Workout: 4 mile run, 50 minute spinning

Lunch: Hummus and baked torilla chips, blueberries

Dinner: 2 eggs over-easy, baked potato with sour cream, strawberries

Our New DVR

There are certain purchases that make me think, "how did I manage without this??" Our new DVR is one such purchase. The last time I had this much enthusiasm for electronics was my Chi flat iron for my hair. Seriously, how did I make it through undergrad without one? Anyway, back to the DVR. It has completely changed my television viewing experience.

I think we've already established that with the exception of a handful of New Balance commercials, I have a serious aversion to them. Well now, I don't ever have to watch them again! There are a couple of things that I'll still want to watch live (primarily sporting events), but for the most part, I can now skip forward through all of the fluff to get to what I really want to see. Simply amazing.

The other thing is that I have a pretty early bedtime. I've been trying to stay up for the Olympics, but I'm usually crashing around 10:30 or so. As a result, I haven't watched a show that began after 8pm in about 5 years. Now, I can record whatever I want to watch and do so at my leisure without giving away my senior citizen schedule.

Now, I'm sure that the vast majority of you have had DVRs for years and you're probably shaking your heads at my glee, but for those of you without DVRs, I have to say that it's definitely worth having to go through the hassle of contacting Comcast to get set up with one. Now that's a pretty big endorsement!

Pathways

When I work with undergrads, there is one underlying theme that always comes across. Almost all of their questions are centered around the fact that they are trying to figure out what it is they want to do. It’s interesting that we spend so much of our early years trying to find direction. It seems like from the time we can first speak, someone is asking us, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Unfortunately for my students, they’re on a pretty strict timeline to decide on a major and a field of study.

I have a pretty straightforward philosophy on this. Do what you love and if you don’t know what that is yet, do the best job you can wherever you are and your strengths will come through. Once you figure out what those are, go from there. My students will typically look at me like I’m a complete dolt, but I don’t mind…they’ll understand what I mean eventually and even if they don’t, at least they still have a job. To get them thinking about the whole what they love thing, I have my students do an exercise on the first day of class. I ask them to write down what their dream job would be if money were no object. In a perfect world, that is what they should be striving for.

As far as my own path, I’m not sure whether teaching was a conscious decision on my part or not, but it seems like I always ended up there. Even at my teenage jobs of Blockbuster and the coffee shop, I somehow always ended up training people. I think that the reason for this was twofold (1) I was good at explaining things and (2) if I’m being honest, I liked telling people what to do. At every job I’ve had since then, it’s either been explicitly a teaching position or I’d unofficially taken on training (even in units other than my own).

Even my fun jobs involve teaching. I teach spinning classes at a local gym (getting paid to workout was a no brainer for me, plus my gym membership is free) and I’m currently working on the curriculum to teach two classes at a nearby prison (yes, teaching inmates definitely falls under the fun category for me).

So, my question for you guys is this, do you think that there’s such a thing as a calling or do you think that we just gravitate to what we know? Are you where you wanted to be or do you wish you were doing something else?

Little Things

So, I'm a firm believer in enjoying the little things in life. The big things are generally few and far between and if you only focus on those, you're missing out on all of the pleasure to be found in your everyday life. As a tribute to the small things, I thought that I would compile a list of my small pleasures in life...delivered in stream of consciousness of course.

1. Watching the sunrise.

2. The smell of chlorine.

3. The feel of chapstick when you first put it on.

4. An unexpected hug from my son.

5. A cold shower after working out.

6. The first sip of a cold beer.

7. Driving fast alone on an empty highway.

8. Entering an airport.

9. Sore muscles the morning after a hard workout.

10. The feeling of the sun on my skin.

11. A pedicure.

12. Getting email from an old friend.

13. The first big stretch when you wake up.

14. The first real day of fall.

15. Shopping for Christmas presents year round.

16. A good book.

17. Being greeted by my dogs.

18. A good conversation.

19. Wandering through the supermarket.

20. Hearing one of my favorite songs on the radio.

21. Sundays during football season.

22. Coming home to a clean house.

23. Attending a college basketball game.

24. Meeting someone interesting.

25. Sitting in a coffee shop, drinking my second cup of joe and writing this blog on a Tuesday morning. That's good stuff.

Victory.

THIS RIGHT HERE is what it's all about. Amazing.

Payton and Parker, A Continuing Saga

On the same night that I made the pizza that I wrote about last week, I caught this interaction between Parker and Payton. I still had my low-light lens on my Nikon that shoots with a wide aperture and is the absolute wrong lens for action shots, but I was afraid that if I took the time to switch my lenses, I would have missed this playfulness. In other words, some of the pictures are blurry, but they were too fun not to share. Oh, and I'm posting these in proper temporal order.

Triathlon

Well, I've gone and done it. I decided to sign up for my first triathlon. I figured since I'm already swimming and cycling and running, I might as well go ahead and enter a race for fun. It's a sprint triathlon, so here's the breakdown: 1/2 mile swim, 14 mile bike ride and 3 mile run.

Logistically speaking, this means that I need to get my bike into the shop to get it tuned up since I've been doing a lot of my miles on a spinner bike. I'll also need to practice swimming in a wetsuit since the triathlon is at the end of October in an Orlando lake at 7am.

I'm actually really pumped about being in a race. For all of my marathon training, my goal there is simply to finish. I'm not looking to beat a particular time or to place in my age group. I seriously just want to cross the finish line in one piece.

On the other hand, I can treat this triathlon as an actual competition and that really gets my juices flowing. It's been more than ten years since my last race. I miss it...badly. Strangely enough, I miss the burning muscles just as much as I miss the adrenaline rush.

It's also nice to have a purpose for all of my swimming and cycling miles. Drive and direction are always good things when it comes to pumping up your workout. I'll be sure to keep you posted!

Food/Exercise Log:

Breakfast - Coffee and a Kashi breakfast bar

Workout - 1 hour swim (2 miles)

Lunch - Veggie wrap (cucumber, avocado, tomato, sprouts, lettuce, mushrooms on an Ezekiel wrap with ranch dressing) and an apple

Dinner - Veggie burger, small salad and a slice of homemade carrot cake (It was a pretty stressful week and I bake as a stress reliever, so I ate a slice of this homemade goodness and sent the rest off with the Irishman to feed to his friends)

08-08-08

As I sit here watching the opening ceremonies of the Olympic games, I can't help but tingle with the anticipation of what's to come over the next several weeks.



As a former swimmer, I'm in the fortunate position of getting to watch my sport first. Over the next 8 days, the hard work pays off and we get to watch these athletes in all of their glory.



They've been tapering now for the last two weeks and their muscles are fresh and ready to show the world what they can do.



Whether they manage to exceed all expectations...


or merely get the chance to compete with all of their heart,



my eyes will be glued to every minute of the action.



I'm not exaggerating either. My DVR is getting delivered tomorrow morning. Let the games begin!

Homemade Pizza, Version #183

I make pizza at home quite frequently. I like to know exactly what's on my pizza and I also like to switch it up. I have to say that ever since I stopped eating meat, I've been experimenting with my pizza toppings. When I was a carnivore, I almost always got a pepperoni pizza. Now, I'm all over the dang place with my toppings.

The pizza I'm going to share with you consists of 5 ingredients. Yup, that's it. While I typically make my own dough, I've found these great 6-grain ready made varieties that have flax seed and spelt and other good for you stuff. It's cut down my pizza making time from about 30 minutes to 15.

Ok, here are the cast of characters: Dough, pesto, fresh mozzarella, tomatoes and parmesan cheese (which I forgot to include in the picture).



First, preheat your oven to 450 degrees, then put on Thomas the Train so your 20-month-old will let you make dinner in peace.

Next, spread a nice layer of pesto on your pizza dough. I used a traditional basil pesto, but really any pesto would work. You'll also notice that I'm using a pizza stone, but a regular cookie sheet or putting the dough directly onto the rack would work as well.



Now, we need to slice up our mozzarella. There's nothing like fresh mozzarella on a pizza. You'll want to slice it pretty thin so that it melts completely when you bake it.



Now, lay it on top of your dough. (As an aside, I was rushing to make this pizza before my husband got home because he would have insisted on laying the mozzarella in a completely symetrical pattern with a standard distance between the pieces. I really wish I was joking about this. For more information on his OCD, be sure to ask Meg about the tater tot incident of 2001.)



Now we need to slice up our tomatoes. I always slice up more than I need because I invariably will eat half of them. There's nothing like a ripe, salted tomato. Yum!



Ok, now let's get those beauties on the pizza.



For the final step, I added some shaved parmesan cheese on top, but the stuff in the can would work just fine too. I like the saltiness that it adds to the pizza.



Alright, just pop it into your preheated oven for 12-15 minutes and you'll have cheesy gourmet deliciousness in no time!



Now run off and enjoy some relatively guiltless pizza! It reheats wonderfully in the toaster over or if you don't have one, just throw it in a skillet over medium heat - works just as well!

Food/Exercise Log for Wednesday, August 6th:

Breakfast: German Chocolate Cake and Coffee (just keepin' it real folks!)

9-10:30am: Easy 3 mile run (my achillis is swollen and irritated with me) and a 30 minute hard bike ride.

Lunch: Edamame (soy beans) and a strawberry protein shake (strawberries, vanilla soy milk and protein powder)

Dinner: Two slices of the pieces shown above and 2 lbs. of mixed fruit shown below.