Knocked Off My Pedastal (again...)

I had a good run of it. I refer to my earlier blog entry about starting off the New Year with a perfect record: perfect eating habits, perfect personal grooming, perfect exercise habits...  I made a good show.

Of course, that's  all in the crapper now. I made it until day 10, when I decided I'd rather eat Chinese out with Blair versus workout and it's been a downhill slide from there. I didn't exercise Friday or Saturday AND pretty much ate whatever came in my path during those two days. As we speak, I am preparing to head next door to our neighbors for their post holiday party of coffee and desserts.  Rick is a semi-gourmet chef and does amazing things with chocolate. Yippee!

I have some mental block that once I slide off the perfection scale, I have no desire to get back on until the next January 2nd rolls around.  Oh, I'll still exercise and semi-watch what I eat. But I did SO GREAT during the first 10 days. Being perfect in exercise and diet spilled over into all areas of my life and I was perfect about everything. Clothes in the dryer? No procrastination from perfect woman! Let's get those undies folded and put away... work to be done? Let's tackle it head-on and not tell ourself we'll feel more like working on it in the the morning.  And so on...

But now... sigh. I'm going to wear large pants to the party so I have room to stuff myself with cake and the only concession I'll make to eating so late at night is that I'll request decaf coffee.

Here's hoping your New Years resolutions are still a go. Don't let me bring you down... ;) 

Hundreds of Thousands of Copies Sold!!!!!!

In the process of updating my website, I e-mailed my editor for the Chicken Soup for the Cat Lover's Soul book (where 2 of my humor essays appear) and asked her how many copies of the book had sold. Her response was that the exact number is proprietary info but that "a bunch had sold--over 100,000."

I  almost let that number blip  by me. But then I thought about it...Wow. Well over 100,000 people have potentially read my work, just from this one book! Sure, some of the books were probably given as gifts to people who never cracked the spine. But there's also a huge turnover in books like this with people passing it around to family and friends. Then there are library copies with large readerships. In all, I figure close to a quarter million people may have read my work.

That's stunning to me. And completely irrelevant in the overall scheme of life.  Maybe 3 out of that quarter million would know my name and that's probably a stretch. But that's not what this is about.  I'm just having a "happy moment" over how many people I may have made laugh (or okay, smile) with my writing.

Please DO Squeeze the Charmin!

No, this lovely white cat is not being strangled--it's receiving a neck rub. Welcome Charmin, my mom's new cat!

I inherited my love of cats from my mother and it is from her that I learned how to give a high-pitched squeal capable of being heard only (ironically enough) by dogs each and every time I see a cat. 

Mom has been thinking about getting a cat for awhile. Then this past Monday she had a dream about a white cat.  The next day she found Charmin, a shelter cat, who was at his FIRST day at the shelter.  It was a love meant to be.

Here's mom's high maintenance Maltese, Bailey, checking out the competition. Neither seems too disturbed by the other, which is a good sign. Fric and Frac is what I think. 

Apparently Charmin--who is about 5 years old--rolls on his back for bellyrubs at the drop of a hat. He must have come from a very loving home. We wonder if someone lost him or had to give him up. He didn't have a microchip but does now. (TIP: Microchip ALL your animals, including your indoor pets. Suppose there's a fire and your indoor cat escapes. How will you find her in a shelter if she's picked up?) 

So again, a warm kitty hello to Charmin. I foresee much squeezing in her future. 

Catcalls, Wolf Whistles, and "Hey Baby!"

I was out jogging last weekend, enjoying the unseasonably warm (70 degree) weather. I was in a sleeveless t-shirt and shorts as I huffed and puffed my way through my last few miles. But then a wonderful thing happened. As I jogged in place at a traffic light, waiting for it to change, a truck driver leaned out his window and gave me a long, low wolf whistle.

I recall a time not so long ago when such a "comment" would have  me rolling my eyes in disgust as I would look away and refuse to even acknowledge the presence of such a crass human being.

No more.  This time, I waved.

It gets better. Not two minutes later a pick-up truck rolled past with one of those big bullhorn systems hooked up to it. "Lookin' good!" yelled the driver. I gave him a thumbs up.

Apparently once you cross that 35 age barrier, you become much more tolerant (and indeed, encouraging) of such behavior.

"Have a good run?" Blair asked when I walked in the door.

"I had a GREAT run," I said. "I got whistled and honked at."

"Oh-kaaay," said Blair.

I may have found my motivation to run a marathon. All I have to do is pay some guys to jog alongside me and comment on how great my ass looks. I'll probably finish the marathon in record time.

Hey, when it comes to exercise, whatever works....