Words of Encouragement and Calorie-Free Love, Please

So we're going back to the Mexico again for a little taste of heaven. All inclusive in Puerto Vallarta was calling our name, and we answered.

Sadly, this has meant a complete overhaul of current lifestyle-ness. Back to dieting, back to the gym, and thanks to the beauty of a little ol' thing called Craigslist, hopping on the for-reals bike to burn some cals and tone some booty.

By the time I get to Me-hi-co, I am going to be in desperate need of every frozen drink they will give me.

Seeing Red

For most of my college life, I was a redhead. Not naturally, of course, but courtesy of my good friends at Clairol. I liked being a redhead, it made me stand out in my group of friends (because really, when all your friends are hot, smart, and funny, there's no sense trying to corner the market on one of those). It gave me license to let me temper flare. It was more of a lifestyle choice then a hair color.
But, one instance of grabbing ruby instead of auburn, and gone was the sexy Nicole Kidman in Moulin Rouge look. Here to stay was the Ronald McDonald's crazed offspring look. So I kissed red goodbye and went back to brown.

Until Saturday. At the behest of the hubbs and a couple of other friends, I told my stylist I wanted to go red, but natural looking red. She lit up with glee and got to work a-mixin' some goop. She oohed, she ahhed, but alas, this color is only found in nature on tropical birds and poisonous lizards...but I think I love it anyway.

Hopped Up on Gasoline and Conversation Hearts

This morning, the smell of gasoline greeted me at the door of my workplace, which is not a bus terminal or mechanic's shop but a library. Second time in a couple of weeks. It seems the ventilation system keeps grabbing air from near the snow plow storage area. Good times.

Also, I'm having an unusually difficult time finding the regular Necco conversation hearts. Yes, they taste sort of like chalk. Yes, they are full of empty calories and will probably rot my teefs out. But alas, I loves them and their cutesy-wootsy messages. Now all I can find are the fruity ones, and they sort of have a Windexy taste to them (I prefer the sidewalk chalky originals by far).

Probably Not Welcome at Disneyworld...

There is a mouse

living in my house

He's quite a louse

And so I grouse

To my spouse

And I will douse

This little mouse

...with toxic chemicals

So last week, I was up in my study (okay, so it's not really a study, per se, just a spare bedroom with a bookshelf and a shoddy desk), and I decided to do some organizing.
The hubbs and I had placed a bag o' Christmas joy up in the study right after the holiday, and I forgot it had some chocolate treaties in it. I pick up the bag, one of those "re-use me and save the trees" bags from La Target, and there is a big hole in the bottom. Odd, I think, since it was intact last I saw it. Then I see the poopies. I do not like poopies of any sort floating around my house, and these were clearly the excrement of a rodent, either mouse or perhaps wild dwarf hamster. I was annoyed that we had a critter, but living in the middle of cornfields and suffering through the Arctic temperatures we've had in Chicagoland lately, I thought nothing of it. I'd just get one of those humane little boxes and catch the bugger, then let him go in some other subdivision.

Then I saw what was apparently worth chewing through a bag for.

Candy wrappers, shredded like confetti. The little bastard ate my gourmet chocolates.

Gone was my earth-mother, peace-keeper, animal-loving urge to play catch and release with Mickey. Went to the hardware store, bought some traps. Homeboy's in trouble now...if only I could catch him...

I Like Big Baubles, and I Cannot Lie

Is anyone else as thrilled as I am that ginormous costume jewelry is making a comeback? I was out shopping the other day, and it seems like every where you turn, there's something huge and beaded. Things that are eerily reminiscent to the dress-up days of yore...

I had some Christmas gift cardage to spend, so I went out last week, looking for some goods. Not that I hop on every trend bandwagon (maybe I do own a pair of leggings from Miley Cyrus's Walmart collection, so sue me), but as a jewelry lover (and designer), I'm really psyched about this one.

I ended up grabbing a huge silver sparkly flower ring, and I've been sporting it every day since.


How's that for fab?

Of Broken Knees & Busted Caps

The man I'm married to is made out of spun sugar. Before you go all "Aww, isn't that adorable" on me, let me clarify. He is made out of spun sugar not because he is super-duper sweet, but because he is so fragile, a stiff wind can bust his junk. Well, maybe not his junk per se, but anyway.
He's always had rotten knees. Blame genetics, blame sports, blame me for going after him with a baseball bat, but regardless, he's not in the best of knee-shape. Two years ago, a trip to his alma mater, combined with an ice storm and some Jager, resulted in intensive knee surgery. We thought all would be well and good, until Hubbs got the genius idea to play a tackle football game this fall. Yes, he scored a touchdown. He also scored another round of "rebuild the knee."

The doc told us this one would be way more intensive, that he'd be off work for up to 8 weeks, so on and so forth. We made peace with the idea that he was going to wear a two-month butt groove on the couch. We put in the paperwork for temporary disability. We ... didn't get him that mountain bike for Christmas because that would have just been cruel.

He went under the knife on Friday. He'll be back at work most likely next week. The injury wasn't as bad as originally expected. Hubbs is sad that he's not getting the two-month nap he was expecting, but I think under it all, he's feeling the same thing I am: Relief.

The One Where I (Don't) Make Resolutions

I hate the concept of the New Year's resolution. It's a lot of pressure to put on one day, not to mention, people are usually overestimating either their drive, their ability or the governing rules of physics. I mean, really, could it be any more of a setup for failure?

So I don't do "resolutions."

But...who doesn't like a clean start for something? This year, the hubbs and I are going to try to be more *ahem* responsible with money, which I guess means no more fabulous-if-too-expensive handbags. It also means fewer delicious take-out meals, which will probably be better on ye olde waistline. We also *CAUTION: GROWNUP TALK AHEAD* just finished a re-fi on our house, and paid off the hubbster's car, too.

Last year, I also got my nerd on (moreso than usual) by taking on the task of reading one non-fiction book per month, a) to expand my own horizons, and b) so I'd be better at my gig a la biblioteque. I think I may do something similar this year, but I gotta say, I don't know what to pick.

Those aren't technically resolutions, right? Anybody got anything good they're giving up, changing, starting, etc.?