Fit or Fail: Blizzard Edition

Against all odds I am back with the second edition of Fit or Fail.

(I have a history of quitting things before I start...)

But here I am!

So, this week was a little odd because Colorado was buried in snow, therefore forcing me to be on house arrest for a couple of days.

(The first day was because of my mother's orders... the second day Mike needed my car...)

So I didn't get out as much as I wanted... plus, snow makes me hungry... for junk food...

(Seriously, though, who wants to eat carrot sticks during a blizzard? It's all about Thin Mints and hot chocolate.)

But, let's take a look at my goals for this week:

Work out three times

• FIT: twice at the gym, once on the Wii Fit. This was hard for me to do. I was on the verge of getting sick, again, earlier this week, so I didn't want to work out. But I pushed through and ended up doing a pretty hard half an hour on the Wii Fit (if you don't believe that it could be hard, try doing that Hula Hoop game for six minutes and then tell me if you don't want to puke your abs out). Then, today I didn't want to go to the gym because I still have a very annoying runny nose and I just didn't want to BE at the gym in general, but I went and pushed myself very hard, and now I'm proud.

Work out with weights, even if it makes me want to crawl in a hole with a hippie jam band and die

• FIT: and, thankfully, I don't want to die because of it. (Still sore, but I don't have as long of a list as last time.)
  

Do something active on the days I don't work out (like walk the dogs)

• FAIL: I would love to blame this entirely on the blizzard, but I could have been more active, even indoors... I was pretty lazy. BUT, I think I redeemed myself a little bit by SHOVELING SNOW, which rendered me completely immobile for half a day (sore wrist+pulled quad+sore hip+holy shit I didn't even know my back had that many muscles= absolute FIT.)
  

Drink at least one water bottle full of water (not chocolate milkshake or margarita) everyday

• Big fat FIT: I drank about TWO a day... and therefore peed constantly.
  

Eat smaller portions more often

• FAIL: Still working on this one... I really like to eat a bunch... then eat a snack... then wait until I want to faint... then eat a snack... then eat a bunch... it's a learning process.
  

Keep better track of my FIT and FAILs because this list is kinda lame-o

• You decide. Though I did think a lot about it (like "do I really want the fail for eating these Thin Mints?") (Answer: yes.) (BTW: FAIL: Thin Mints.)

So, all in all, another decent week. But I do want to try harder, especially in the whole f-o-o-d area.

New goals:

• Eat healthier (I went grocery shopping today and loaded up on a lot of healthy food... seriously, like, no bad stuff... (I still have some cookies hidden... shut up))
• Work out four times
  
• Increase the weight of my strength training
• Interval train for my cardio
  
• Eat on a more regular basis (aka, avoid that fainting feeling if at all possible)
• Move on my non-workout days (even if it's inside)
  
• Convince Mike that me shoveling the snow really doesn't help ANYONE and that the job should either be his or outsourced to a teenager...
  

My Whole House Smells like Wet Dog...

My mom called this morning from Florida telling me that I wasn't allowed to leave the house because of the snow storm...

I was still in bed, so I had no idea what the crazy woman was talking about.

(I think that it's impressive that my mother is across the country and she knows about the state of my backyard better than I do...)


(She's freaky like that...)

So I was instructed to stay inside and watch movies and drink hot chocolate.

And I learned at a very early age that you ALWAYS listen to mom... I'm, like, a great daughter.

So I'm holed up in my house with two crazy dogs who think the snow is so great that they are bringing half of it INSIDE with them...

(I know that they look miserable... and I think Hannah fell asleep sitting there... but I assure you they are having a fabulous time...)

(Awesome.)

But I shall persevere, because my mommy told me to stay put.

(Unfortunately, Mike had to go to work. He took the bus so that he didn't have to drive... and the bus got stuck somewhere... but he eventually made it...)

(He works in a restaurant on an OUTDOOR mall... who the HELL is going there today?)

(I asked Mike that and he said it didn't matter because he was scheduled and he had to go in... he's "responsible"... loser.)

So I'm sitting here... watching the blizzard... remembering how it was in the 70s a couple of days ago... yelling at the idiots who think that it's a bright idea to ride a bicycle in over a foot of snow...

("Hey genius... you could get further CRAWLING... damn fool...")

(On top of being an awesome daughter, I am, like, the nicest person ever.)

And They Say Romance is Dead...

Last night The Bloggess wrote about this guy who proposed to his lady friend through a blog.

(Cute? Romantic? Impersonal? Creepy? You decide...)

But part of the whole hoopla is that people are supposed to link to their blog with a story about their marriage/love/wedding.

Since I have never been married or had a wedding, I can't really participate in that.

But I do have love.

(Cue the vomit soundtrack...)

Seriously, though, Mike and I have been together for almost seven years... and to those who say that the romance has died, well...

A few weeks ago I was having a bad day and I was crying all morning for no particular reason.

Mike had been very sweet all morning. He hugged me, told me it was okay... tried to make me laugh.

It didn't work, because I kept crying.

(FAIL)

Seeing that this wasn't working, he tried a different approach.

Me: *starting to cry again*

Mike: NO! If you start crying I will slap the tears right off of your face!

Now that, my friends, is L-O-V-E.

(He didn't really slap me... it actually did work because I burst out laughing (you know, that awkward crying-snot-infested-laughing/choking), and the day got better after that...)

So... there is my love story... congrats to the happy couple...

(She said yes, btw.)

(PS: I was going to write this last night but Mike decided that we should get drunk and I said we should watch TWILIGHT and so we compromised and drank while watching TWILIGHT...)

(Now THAT is romantic...)

Fit or Fail: First Edition

Lots of blogs have certain posts that are featured on a regular basis.

Badger Meets World has Song Lyric Saturday.

The Mom Chronicles has the Thursday Ten.

But the one that I am blatantly stealing graciously adapting is the Work it out Weekends series from Your Wishcake.


(She totally said it was okay in this post because she is officially the sweetest thing in the world. So don't call me a thief... I'm just not creative so I have to borrow my blog material from more talented bloggers.)

(You should read her blog... because I'm a very smart person who has never done you wrong.)

(Unless you're a hippie jam band neighbor of mine... in which case, you should just leave... now.)

Anywho, Work it out Weekends was my inspiration for this series that I am starting now, aptly titled Fit or Fail. In this series, I will be evaluating all of my fitness goals each week.

I am trying (desperately) to get into shape.

I'm unhealthy, and I'm extremely unhappy about it.

(Plus (I'm not gonna lie) I want to look "pretty". I know that people say I'm pretty, but I want to look pretty to ME too, which is not the case right now.)

So, I've made a deal with myself to change. I'm eating better (mostly), and have made it a goal of mine to workout at least three times a week (for now).

Each week I will write a post under the Fit or Fail title that will include any observations that I have had plus a list with certain things that I did during the week that were Fit and others that were Fail.

(I was going to call it Heaven or Hell and then list all of the things that were going to get me into heaven and all of the things that were going to send me to hell.)

(But it was stupid...)

(Because I'm not going to heaven. No amount of exercise will change that...)

I figure that by posting it on these here internets, I make myself accountable to everyone, not just me.

(I mean, if Tuesday I decide to eat a gallon of ice cream, then I remember that I will have to tell you all about it over the weekend... well, that's somewhat of a deterrent.)

(Or, I'll just lie.)

(But I'll try to avoid that.)

(See? Hell...)

Okay. Ladies and gentlemen: the first edition of my Fit or Fail List...

FIT: I worked out three times (twice in the gym, once on the Wii Fit)

FIT: I lifted weights... it was horrible. See here for more. (BTW, feeling better, but shaking my fist at hippie jam bands is still a challenge.)

FAIL: Ate a lot of the birthday cake that my mom made.

FIT: Threw out the last third of the cake.

FIT: Didn't try to take the cake out of the trash... (not that I would do that... I think... but I still feel that I deserve a FIT for it...)

FAIL: Girl scout cookies. Enough said.

FIT: Walked the dogs three times. (That may not be a huge workout, but YOU try holding an Aussie Shepard back from the many evils of the neighborhood (at least the ones that she perceives... like that border collie three blocks down... or that bicycle...or that leaf...) and then you tell me if your arms don't feel a tad stronger.)

FAIL: I ate a lot of guacamole. I know that avocados are good for you and all... but not the amount I ate... and not with that many tortilla chips...

Well... that's all I can think of... but I'll update if I think of anything else.

Hey! Look at that... there really aren't that many FAILs this week! WooHoo!

Here are my goals for the upcoming week:

• Work out three times
  
• Work out with weights, even if it makes me want to crawl in a hole with a hippie jam band and die
• Do something active on the days I don't work out (like walk the dogs)
• Drink at least one water bottle full of water (not chocolate milkshake or margarita) everyday
• Eat smaller portions more often
• Keep better track of my FIT and FAILs because this list is kinda lame-o

See! Now I'm accountable to you all!

(I also accept rewards if I meet my goals... although I would say ice cream is an excellent reward, it seems a tad counter-productive... so I will accept cash and pretty things...)

Step Away from the Keyboard... Now...

It was a beautiful day... the sun was out... the breeze was nice... and I was enjoying reading Pride and Prejudice and Zombies in the backyard.

(Best. Book. Ever. Bytheway.)

Then...

My Twitter from 6 hours ago:

The guys two houses down just brought a drum set into their backyard... no good can come from this.

Yeah... well, they calmly started playing a little bit and I really didn't mind because I was all into Elizabeth Bennet slaying the minions of Satan with her favorite musket.

Later, though, I realized that there was some noise... but I assumed that it was a car parked at the light in front of my house or something...

But the music didn't go away...

My Twitter from 27 minutes ago:

ARE YOU KIDDING ME? God damn guys with the drums have been playing "music" for 1.5 hrs! OUTSIDE. It's 10:30! & turn off your black light!

I AM GOING TO KILL THEM... KILL THEM!

After turning off the TV I couldn't help but acknowledge that there is a JAM BAND in the backyard two houses over...

Drums.

Guitar.

Keyboard set to imitate a PIPE ORGAN.

And bright (black) lights...

And cheering.

And it DOESN'T STOP... ever.



Hippie Invasion from rhymes with milk on Vimeo.

(I know that you can't see anything (like the black lights), but even on my crappy camera, you can HEAR it... remember, there is a whole HOUSE between us...)

So I did what any rational individual would do.

First, I sent my dog out to bark at them.

(Actually, she's been out there off and on all night barking at them... but at this point I stopped telling her to shut up and instead told her to bark away and mess up that jam band-y beat...)

Then, I called Mike.

Me: MIKE!! Those-god-damn-mother-fucking-hippie-bastards-are-playing-jam-band-music- with-black-lights-and-I-am-officially-going-to-kill-them-and-once-they-are-finished-I-am-going-to-go-steal-their-drum-set-or-at-least-put-dog-poop-in-it-and- they-totally-interrupted-my-Grey's Anatomy-which-was-really-good-and-I-KNEW-that-Derek- would-have-to-save-Izzie-and-anyway-I-am-going-to-shoot-me-some-hippies!

Mike: Well... as long as you don't involve the cops...

Next, I did the most logical thing I could think of:

I put my IPOD into it's stereo next to the window and blasted songs from the Wicked soundtrack...

(Take that you damn hippies!! Jam to that, suckas!!)

(Don't make me go all John Cusack on your ass!)


(I actually thought that it had worked... but then I realized that I had turned the Wicked soundtrack up so high that it took a few seconds for my ears to hear those damn drums and keyboard...)

Finally, I documented that I was not the only one suffering here:


Interview with a Hannah from rhymes with milk on Vimeo.

All in all... a very productive night.

So... it's 11:30 at night... and they have expanded... there are now yelling females...

HEY RUDE NEIGHBORS! SOME OF US HAVE TO GO TO WORK IN THE MORNING!

(They don't know that I'm not "some of us"...)

What Doesn't Kill me Only Makes me Bitter

Kanye West |MTV Music

I went to the gym.

I went to the gym and used some weight machines.

I went to the gym and used some weight machines and now I can barely type.

These are some other things that I am now unable to do without cursing and screaming "ow" repeatedly:

• Putting the car in reverse

• Putting the car in drive

• Turning the steering wheel into the driveway

• Putting the car in park

• Slicing an apple for my after-workout snack

• Opening the peanut butter jar (I hear protein is good for shredded muscles...)

• Closing the peanut butter jar

• Getting the chocolate chips down from the really high cabinet (not necessarily good for muscles, but excellent for my psyche...)

• Quickly holding back 116 pounds of dog from the chocolate chips that I dropped on the floor

• Putting chocolate chips back in unnecessarily high cabinet
  

• Bending my elbows at all

• Taking my gym clothes off

• Washing my hair

• Adjusting the shower head so that it stops spraying water onto the bathroom floor

• Drying my hair

• Drying the bathroom floor
  

• Putting on mascara
  

• Changing my shirt six times before I find a top that makes me look less fat

• Giving Mike a high-five because I actually got off my ass and went to the gym so that more of my shirts make me look less fat

So yeah... I'm dying... and it will only get worse. But I will continue to go because I WILL beat SOMEONE at cinder block throwing before I die.

What is cinder block throwing?

Exactly what is sounds like.

How classy are we? Photo stolen borrowed from The Human Condition

Needless to say, I came in last. But not for long!! I shall work through my all encompassing upper-body pain and I will become the best damn cinder block thrower y'all have ever seen!

(Or I will at lease beat ONE person... just one... that's all I'm looking for...)

I have to go ice my entire upper-body now...

My Baby Brother is the big Two-One...

Dear Andrew Jay,

You're my brother!!

It's your birthday!!

You're 21!!

You're in Thailand!!

(I know that YOU know all of this... but I'm setting it up for my blog readers...)

(And I know that I could just email this to you personally... but I am whore for blog fodder...)

So, since you are not here with us, we will be having a party without you.

(You know our family... we never turn down an opportunity to party...)

Even the dogs will be there to celebrate.

(I just realized that there will actually be more dogs than people there... we're kind of pathetic.)

My idea: eat Thai food... since you're in Thailand... I thought I'd just clear that up in case you were confused because I want you to realize how much of a genius I am.

Mom's idea: make a cake and let Ally pick the flavor. Hell yes! I told her that I think that this should be the protocol for ALL future birthdays in the family... so we're having FUNFETTI cake with chocolate frosting. I will attempt to make a portrait of you on the cake with the frosting.

Mom's idea: she is getting ME a present for YOUR birthday... AGAIN, this should just be protocol for all birthdays... including national birthday holidays (like Lincoln's birthday... Washington's birthday...the Nation's birthday... and of course, Jesus' birthday). So I am getting THE TWILIGHT DVD for your birthday, so thanks for that.

(I heart Edward Cullen.)

My idea: since you're turning 21, one of us should get gratuitously drunk tonight.

Dad's idea: it should be Mom.

So, your party is really a group effort...

I'll take pictures for you to show all of your monk friends.

(Side note: Don't tickle a monk... unless they look sad... then the don't-tickle-a-monk rule is void.)

(I just made that up... I would double check on that, though...)

So, happy birthday!

I miss you so much, but I am so thrilled slash proud slash jealous that you are able to take this journey of yours.

(I'm like 90% thrilled and proud... 8% jealous... and 2% hungry... I heart Thai food...)

PS: I thought I would tell you that while writing this post I hit my knuckle on the table and it HURT and I screamed profanities in PUBLIC with CHILDREN around and MARK laughed at me and now my knuckle is all red and that is the FIRST SIGN of TRAUMA so I may not have a FINGER when you get back which will really suck because it's my pointer finger and I type with ONLY my pointer fingers (mostly... it drives Mike NUTS) so my BLOG will FAIL because I won't be able to type anymore... just so you know...

Super Ally! Now Sold with a Stick!

I found this link on Badger Meets World where you can make yourself into a superhero...

Did that register?

You CAN MAKE YOURSELF INTO A SUPERHERO!

And you should know how much I love superheros...

So I promptly went over there I made SUPER ALLY!!



I know... I am H-O-T-T.

Except I totally cheated. I am SO not that skinny (they don't even give you an OPTION for a slightly chubby superhero... not fair).

And my boobs don't look like that (can't decide if that's a good or bad thing... at first glance they're pretty cool... but after staring at them multiple times, they're a little alien-like... and I doubt they're real...).

But I do tend to scowl and my posture is pretty terrible. So it's not ALL lies.

Anywhodle.

Part of the process is that you can pick your super weapon of choice... and I got a STICK!!

Sure, I could have picked the gun or something OBVIOUS, but a big stick is more my style. I mean... would you ever suspect that pretty little thing with the stick to be able to KICK YOUR ASS?

The stick is totally unassuming, and therefore TOTALLY LETHAL.

Now, I didn't come up with the name (the site generates that), but it is SO HELPFUL because without the name "Baroness Von Splintery Stick" I would have totally forgotten that I could GIVE MY ENEMIES SPLINTERS...

I got a splinter a few days ago and I was totally USELESS for at least an hour (wimp)... imagine if a really mean and powerful VILLAIN got a splinter... we could totally TAKE HIM/HER DOWN and THWART all of his/her EVIL PLANS!!

So, all in all, you do NOT want to be on MY shit list...

PS: If you go make your own superhero, send it to me (allyb at allybspeakin dot com) or post it on your own blog and let me know... I'd love to see it.

PPS: What would YOUR super weapon of choice be? Comment and let me know.

PPPS: I was told that some people don't know how to comment... so read this.

PPPPS: I want a cape... like... badly...

PPPPPS: Thinking about it, if I had a choice for ANY super weapon, it wouldn't be a stick. It would TOTALLY be a puppy... A villain would be all "oh what a cute puppy!" and I'd be all "yeah... well check out these KILLER RAZOR PUPPY TEETH!" and I'd throw the puppy at the villain and I would totally WIN!

PPPPPPS: No puppies were harmed in the writing of this post.

PPPPPPPS: I would never ACTUALLY throw a puppy... but it's still an awesome idea.

Symptomatic

I'm sick.

Me: Mike, I'm sick.

Mike: What are your symptoms?

Me: Well... are you ready? First, my head feels like it's being shoved through a garlic press.

Mike: That sounds pleasant.

Me: Oh, I'm just getting started. My nose is stuffy AND runny at the same time.

Mike: OK, what else?

Me: My ears hurt.

Mike: Like pressure, maybe from your sinuses?

Me: No... like a needle kind of pain... like someone is poking the inside of my ear with a needle.

Mike: Nice.

Me: My teeth hurt, too.

Mike: Like when you bite down?

Me: Yes, but ALSO when I talk or just sit here quietly... that can't be good, can it?

Mike: No, probably not. Anything else?

Me: Hell yes! I have sores in my mouth. One in the back of my mouth. And OH! There's one on the top of my mouth!

Mike: So sores are popping up while we have this conversation?

Me: Yes! It's very serious. AND... the bottom of my feet are hot.

Mike: I don't believe you.

Me: Seriously... would I JOKE about hot, tingly FEET? Here.

(I take off my sock and shove my hot and tingly foot at him.)

Mike: It's lukewarm are best.

Me: Well it feels BURNING hot from the inside, so that's not good. AND my eyes are glassy... I think.

Mike: You think? You can't tell.

Me: Well no. My eyes are watering too much for me to know if they're glassy and not just watery.

Mike: You're not crying?

Me: Noooooo... my eyes are watering UNCONTROLLABLY... although your lack of sensitivity regarding my hot and tingly feet did hurt my feelings.

Mike: Well, I apologize. Please tell me that's it.

Me: Nope... my hair is greasy.

Mike: Ally... I don't think that that's a VALID symptom of DISEASE.

Me: Are you kidding me? That's by far the most important of my symptoms. When I was a child, my mom always said that she knew when I was ACTUALLY sick (aka, not faking it) because my HAIR would ALSO get sick... are you DOUBTING my MOTHER... you better hope I don't rat you out.

Mike: No... I'm not doubting your mother's ability to diagnose you and your weird diseases... I just don't know if your symptoms would hold up to a MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL.

Me: So you're saying I might not be able to find "hot on the inside of my feet" or "greasy hair" on WebMD?

Mike: I'm going to go with "no".

So I just looked up my symptoms on WebMD and the stupid site doesn't have any options for "hot on the inside of my feet" or "greasy hair". They did have a symptom for "numbness or tingling feet" so I clicked on that and now it's telling me that I have a myriad of horrible diseases of the neurological persuasion, so I unclicked that because it's not really a real description of what my feet feel like...

So, without that symptom I could have a migraine, sinusitis, nasal polyps (WHAT?), swimmers ear, or caffeine withdrawal.

So I'm going to take some aspirin, blow my nose, get out of this here swimming pool, and drink a latte.

And I washed my hair so it's not so greasy.

And I put on some socks... and uncrossed my legs... so the tingling has essentially stopped...

But the headache and runny slash stuffy nose is still here... damn.

The Power of Twitter...

So here's a video of a TED talk by Evan Williams, the CEO of Twitter.

If you're confused about what Twitter is, Williams does a good job of showing WHAT Twitter is and WHY it's useful.

(He's not the greatest public speaker or anything, but he's probably bathing in a bathtub of hundred dollar bills while I'm... posting a video of him speaking publicly... so I can't really judge.)

(And thanks to Esther at FaintStarLite for linking to this on her latest post.)



PS: I also added this to my "New to Blogs?" post under my description of Twitter, just so you know.

Un-Domestic Goddess

This morning I received a text from Mark that asked if I (or Mike) knew how to sew buttons onto clothes.

I promptly returned the text with a resounding, and honest, "I can't sew worth shit. Sorry, I fail."

I soon started thinking about why I don't sew or do any other crafty things.

I mean, I wish that I was like Mike's mom, who could probably make a beautiful wedding dress out of nothing but toilet paper and some human hair (I'm not sure why I immediately jumped to THAT combination... it makes her sound creepy... she actually makes INCREDIBLE things in RECORD time using completely NORMAL materials... as far as I know...).

And I would love it if I could put my adorable creations of my blog, like Miss Wishcake...

But I'm just not good at those sorts of things.

The first time I attempted to sew something was in my sixth grade Home Ec class...

I chose to make a little yellow ducky (so cute!), and remember bringing my half completed friend home to finish it over the weekend...

I was having some trouble, so I asked my mother to help me.

(That was my first mistake.)

I should probably FIRST explain that I come from a family where my mom has a stapler and a glue gun... NOT a sewing machine.

And, although my father can sew basic stuff so that it stays in one piece, his knowledge stems from sewing FLESH TOGETHER, not patterns to make stuffed animals.

(Did I mention he's a medical doctor... NOT that freak from Silence of the Lambs? I thought I should clear that up. So, Dad = doctor, NOT serial killer who sews skin together to make an outfit... got it? Good.)

So I didn't grow up with the whiz of the sewing machine in the background (though my mom DID sew me a poodle skirt in one night... ROCKSTAR... though I can't remember if glue was involved...).

Anyway! Asking my mother to help me finish my innocent yellow ducky was not the greatest of decisions.

The duck ended up HALF INSIDE OUT. Really? Really. His head was INSIDE OUT.

(It's not ALL her fault... though I was only 11... sorry, Ma... I can't really help you with that one...)

(Did I mention the amazing poodle skirt? Let's just focus on that.)

I was so embarrassed that I didn't even go back to reclaim him after the semester was over. (And I don't remember the grade I got... it's possible that I've blocked it from my psyche.)

The next semester a girl in one of my other classes informed me that the teacher had asked them to remind me to come pick my project up and then left the HALF INSIDE OUT creature ON HER DESK so that ALL of my classmates could STARE at him.

(Thankfully (sadly?), I was so un-popular that few people even knew that the Home Ec teacher was referring to me...)

I never went back for him.

As I got older, the craftiness gene never kicked in. My senior year of high school I took a "Fashion" class and had to make a winter hat (didn't even fit over the crown of my head) and a pair of boxer shorts. And the boxer shorts?? WERE HALF INSIDE OUT.

Don't ask me how. I blame aliens.

PS: After I responded that I couldn't sew a button, I received the following message: "You're not getting into heaven." Well, duh. Though I would say that sewing buttons is the LEAST of my problems. (See post about the vet, my shame, and epileptic dogs.)

Lumpy McGee is NOT Gwen Stefani

*NOTE: Bonnie is fine... so no worries.*

A few days ago Mike felt a bump above Bonnie's front leg.

(Is that an arm? I don't know... at the time I said it was an arm... but now I fear I am really wrong...)

We decided to give it a few days to see if it went away.

Then, a few days later, we found a scab in the vicinity of the (still very much existent) lump.

What went through my head?

SOMETHING HAS BURROWED UNDER HER SKIN AND IS SUCKING HER BLOOD AND EATING HER FOOD AND OH MY GOD WE HAVE TO GET IT OUT AND OH MY GOD DID IT JUST MOVE AND WHAT IF IT WANTS TO COME OUT... and so on.

So we I called the vet the next day...

(Oh, I used to work at my vet as a receptionist, so I know the people who work there fairly well.)

Sara the Receptionist: Indian-Peaks-Vet-Hospital-this-is-Sara-how-may-I-help-you? (I used to answer my cell phone like this by accident... awk-ward...)

Me: Hi, Sara, it's Ally.

Sara: Hey, Ally, how's it going? (Her voice is noticeably less perky... I assume that it's because she doesn't have to pretend to be happy with me because I've been-there-done-that and therefore know very well that she's not that perky and happy to be at work answering phones... or maybe she just ISN'T happy to hear from me...)

Me: Um... I have a question... well, not really a question as much as some information to share with you... although I could use some advice...

Sara: Let's hear it.

Me: So we found a lump on Bonnie and there is a scab in the general area and I'm a tad worried that there is, you know, something LIVING in her that, you know, burrowed INTO her... so I'm thinking that maybe we should have a professional look at her, you know?

Sara: Um... yeah... I would say I agree with you.

So we took Bonnie to the vet and had to sit in the room for awhile waiting for the doctor while Bonnie tried to sniff EVERYTHING and Hannah (who was there for a very traumatic nail-clipping and for moral support) hid under the bench where we were sitting.

Then the doctor came in and apologized for being late and told us it was because a dog was having a seizure in the other room... and that just made me feel bad about posting that video the other day... and then I felt even worse because I got the damn "Song for Epileptic Dogs" (see video) stuck in my head and I started humming it and I'm pretty sure I am one step closer to securing my spot in HELL.

While I was thinking about all of that Mike and the doctor held Bonnie down and the doctor took a sample of Bonnie's lumpy cells with a needle.

(I could hear Hannah thinking "if that bastard comes anywhere NEAR me with that poky thing I am biting him and THEN I will pee on him".)

Then we left and I spent the rest of the day waiting for the doctor to call to assure us that the lump was just a lump and not the "c" word.

(No... not THAT "c" word... you dirty freak.)

And then we got the call that she was fine and he thanked me again for being patient when he was late; so I kissed Bonnie, crowned her "Lumpy McGee", and bellowed the "Song for Epileptic Dogs" for all to hear.

PS: Bonnie does not yet respond to Lumpy McGee. I shouted for Lumpy McGee and nobody came.

PPS: I just shouted for Bonnie and nobody came either... either there actually IS something burrowed in her that is SUCKING HER HEARING AWAY... or she has NO RESPECT.

PPPS: Apparently she was able to hear a squirrel land on a branch two houses down which caused her to bark her lumpy-self into a barking-induced coma... so I think it's pretty clear that she has no respect at all.

This Just in! No Doubt Cures Herpes...

Somebody should HIRE ME.

Seriously, here's my LinkedIn Profile.

So, here's the best song No Doubt has ever written. I didn't mention it in my post last night because I am an idiot... or I just forgot... or... whatever.

Enjoy!

(And hire me!)

No Doubt |MTV Music

(After watching the whole video and listening to the whole song I feel AWESOME! See? I meant what I said about No Doubt being the perfect cure for... EVERYTHING! In fact, I would bet my non-existent paycheck that they could cure such terrible plagues as chlamydia, restless leg syndrome, and Beer Pong Herpes.)

(You MUST watch this video... it's sort of like a public service announcement that makes you pee your pants and choke on your own spit...)

The Colbert ReportMon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c

Beer Pong Herpes Outbreak

Colbert Report Full Episodes
Political Humor

I'm Just a Fan

I just found out that No Doubt is coming to Denver...

No.

Doubt.

The band that I have loved since I was 10.

The band that has taken a five year hiatus from playing together because Gwen, Brad love her, decided to tour with Harajuku girls rather than her ex-boyfriend, that quite guy, and the drummer who plays in a thong...

The band that has written songs that have been a staple in my life's soundtrack since my middle school years.

The first time I was going to go see them live was when I was 11. They were at Red Rocks touring for Tragic Kingdom.

(Best. Album. Ever.)

(Seriously.)

They were going to be there on the last day of sixth grade, and my parents surprised me with tickets.

It was going to be my first concert.

Mom and Dad were going to pick me and my brother up from school and we were going to get sandwiches from Subway and we were going to get there early because it was General Admission and I was going to see that crazy chick who sang about how she was just a girl.

(EXCITED!)

Then a freak TORNADO (which NEVER HAPPENS HERE... EVER...) hit my school and the lake where my brother was having his end-of-the-year party for the fourth grade, thus turning us into screaming basket-cases who wanted to stay the hell away from any outdoor amphitheater.

Fail number one.

Second concert: back at Red Rocks promoting Return of Saturn. Gwen had pink hair now, and as a fourteen-year-old on the brink of being "angsty", she was my hero.

(I angry-danced to Ex-Girlfriend many a times in my bedroom.)

(Even though I'd never been an ex-anything... except an ex-Hebrew school student... but that's a different subject...)

Since I was at the age where I was "too cool" to think of going with JUST my parents, I would only go with a friend.

But ALL (two) of my friends were going to be out of town when the concert was.

Fail number two.

Finally, when I was fifteen, they opened for U2. I convinced my brother, my best friend, and my mom to go see U2 so that I could (finally) catch a glimpse of No Doubt.

(Don't get me wrong... I love U2, and they were amazing, but No Doubt was what sealed the deal.)

I got to see them play! But it only made me want to see a headlining show that much more.

And then, when Rock Steady came out, I was able to see a No Doubt concert! My brother and I got into line early and even got to meet Tom Dumont (aka that quiet guy)!

I cornered him and told him about my tornado fiasco, and got his autograph (but left the Sharpie in the car... and the only pen I could find was dying... so you can't really see his signature... half-fail)... and then I saw Gwen walking backstage before the show and I screamed "I LOVE YOU, GWEN" and she? Waved. At. Me. (Half-fail revoked.)

I proceeded to have an AMAZING time dancing my sixteen-year-old ass off to Don't Speak and Hey Baby.

(I was rocking out so hard that at one point I almost punched a guy with an out-of-control fist.)

I was able to see them one more time the following year with my brother and Mike. I had spent the whole night before the concert sick to my stomach (with nerves), but the minute I sat in my seat and the lights went down, my stomach ache was history.

See... my whole life I've been a very nervous person. I worry. But concerts were something that eased it.

And even so, I've been to several concerts where I still get distracted. I suddenly realize that there are thousands of people around me... blocking my exit.

I start to panic during a slow song because my mind wanders.

But No Doubt made ALL of my nerves - all of my THOUGHTS - go away. And for the sixty to ninety minutes that Gwen was running around and Tony was rocking the bass and Adrian was in his thong and Tom was being all mysterious... I was perfect. All of my inhibitions were gone and I was HAPPY.

So, even though I've seen them several times before, I have to see them again. If nothing else than to feel like that teenager without a care in the world.

Now, all I need is the money so that I can actually SEE them rather than have to settle for the cheap spots all the way in the back.

(Those tickets don't even come with SEATS... you have to stand on a lawn and share a blanket with breast-feeding moms and that guy trying to sell you pot brownies.)

PS: I was originally going to sit down and write about my new nickname for Bonnie (Lumpy McGee) before this turned into an extremely LONG sob story about my adventures with my favorite band... I'll be back to regularly scheduled programming tomorrow.

Housekeeping

Just a few housekeeping notes for Ally B Speakin...

First, there is a new section on the sidebar (→) called "Important Info".

If you are so inclined, there are now super-cool links there such as an about Ally B section (everything you ever wanted to know about me and my blog... except not really... I get bored fast), my list of my most favoritist blogs (Mom, this is called a "blogroll"), AND a post with tips about reading/using blogs.

(My mom has been calling me with questions like "How do you comment?" and "What is a Twitter" and "I think my computer is being monitored because every time you refer to 'god' it comes out 'Brad'"... so SOME of these questions are answered in the "New to Blogs?" post that you can click on in the "Important Info" section...)

(I just filled her in on the Brad Pitt=god thing over the phone... she was glad to hear that her computer is NOT being fucked with...)

(She's a very smart lady... really.)

So I hope that you find it useful/interesting.

Other than that, Mike is participating in March-Stache, which means he is growing a mustache for the month of March. Apparently, it's actually a real thing that is done to raise money for cancer research in Taiwan...

Mike, however, is not growing his March-Stache to help better the world (in fact, when I told him it was for charity he said, "Woohoo! I'm getting paid for this?"... so yeah...). Mike is growing it because... well, just because.

(I think it's to prove his manliness since he, you know, CAN grow a mustache...)

(Couldn't he just build something useful?)



It is going to be a VERY long month.

Pray to Brad for me...

(Did I type that? Or was is The Feds?)