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Showing posts with label The MFP. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The MFP. Show all posts
*Not* Top Chef
I have a new post at TheMFP.com. It's about my new adventure with Top Chef. Come over and check it out!
Damn Facebook Games
Last week I started playing Ravenwood Fair on Facebook. It was weird for me because I'd already played Cafe World, started a small farm on Farmville, and dug for treasure on Treasure Isle. I even did the whole Mafia Wars and Hotel City thing...but that was a looong time ago. And I had figured out pretty early on that logging onto those games and going "click-click-click" and asking for energy packs was a complete waste of my time - and boring...just sayin'.
So why the renewed interest in a completely moronic game? (By moronic I mean unthinking and unchallenging - not that people who play the games are morons - because then I would be calling myself a moron...)
It was because by playing Ravenwood Fair I was feeling successful. It was something I could *actually* do. I could "click-click-click" and chop down a bunch of trees. I could wack a Domovio, collect tree sap, construct food carts, and build games for my fair visitors. I watched my 'fun meter' rise and got an increase in visitors. And maybe...eventually...if I worked hard enough at my fair...there would be a wedding! (Unless I was away from my fair too long, then my fair would be over grown with Dark Roots and I'd have to spend most of my valuable energy digging them out.)
Every where else in my life where I was feeling unsucsessful was being numbed by this damn Facebook game. I quit today. I let it go. Ravenswood Fair ended up like all the other Facebook games I've played - on the blocked list.
I guess I'll spend those few extra moments being a more successful me and doing something productive like working on my new blog layout, cooking, or playing Rock Band.
*Oh, when I said "ended up like all the other Facebook games I've played - on the block list", that didn't include Scrabble. If you want to play Facebook Scrabble with me, I'm all game!
So why the renewed interest in a completely moronic game? (By moronic I mean unthinking and unchallenging - not that people who play the games are morons - because then I would be calling myself a moron...)
It was because by playing Ravenwood Fair I was feeling successful. It was something I could *actually* do. I could "click-click-click" and chop down a bunch of trees. I could wack a Domovio, collect tree sap, construct food carts, and build games for my fair visitors. I watched my 'fun meter' rise and got an increase in visitors. And maybe...eventually...if I worked hard enough at my fair...there would be a wedding! (Unless I was away from my fair too long, then my fair would be over grown with Dark Roots and I'd have to spend most of my valuable energy digging them out.)
Every where else in my life where I was feeling unsucsessful was being numbed by this damn Facebook game. I quit today. I let it go. Ravenswood Fair ended up like all the other Facebook games I've played - on the blocked list.
I guess I'll spend those few extra moments being a more successful me and doing something productive like working on my new blog layout, cooking, or playing Rock Band.
*Oh, when I said "ended up like all the other Facebook games I've played - on the block list", that didn't include Scrabble. If you want to play Facebook Scrabble with me, I'm all game!
Other Things to Try...Yes!
Here are some other things I tried over the weekend:
Pickled Quail Eggs
Caviar
Assorted Cheeses
And a few different vodkas (some were plain and others were flavor infused) from around the world:
I also met new people without peeing my pants or making a complete ass out of myself...but I didn't try the pickled herring or pickled lemons...I had to draw the line somewhere!
Pickled Quail Eggs
Caviar
Assorted Cheeses
And a few different vodkas (some were plain and others were flavor infused) from around the world:
I also met new people without peeing my pants or making a complete ass out of myself...but I didn't try the pickled herring or pickled lemons...I had to draw the line somewhere!
~The MFP
Things to Try, er Not...
As you know, I'm all about trying new things and expanding my belief system. This weekend I tried several new things.
The first thing I tried was dying my hair with Kool-Aid. I thought it would be a great way to save money, save Natron time, AND it would just be pretty cool to say that I dye my hair with Kool-Aid.
When coloring ones hair there are a few simple rules you should follow:
Have clean up items handy.
Wear old clothes that you wouldn't mind wrecking.
Have someone else to it for you.
Do a test strand.
Me? Oh, I did none of the above. I ruined one of my favorite shirts, ended up in the bathtub, naked with Kool-Aid running down my back and splattering the shower walls, *and* I even have a head full of pukish, brownish, pinkish hair...I made an appointment with Natron on Wednesday night to fix it for me :)
The first thing I tried was dying my hair with Kool-Aid. I thought it would be a great way to save money, save Natron time, AND it would just be pretty cool to say that I dye my hair with Kool-Aid.
When coloring ones hair there are a few simple rules you should follow:
Have clean up items handy.
Wear old clothes that you wouldn't mind wrecking.
Have someone else to it for you.
Do a test strand.
Me? Oh, I did none of the above. I ruined one of my favorite shirts, ended up in the bathtub, naked with Kool-Aid running down my back and splattering the shower walls, *and* I even have a head full of pukish, brownish, pinkish hair...I made an appointment with Natron on Wednesday night to fix it for me :)
2 Cherry + 2 Strawberry + 1 Grape + 1 Pink Lemonade + 1 Berry Blue =
Muddy Pinkish Brown....who knew?
Who's in Your Head?
I was reading the Barefoot Foodie the other day and came across this post: Introducing
I've been thinking about her post off and on, trying to figure out 'who's inside my head' but I wasn't really coming up with a great answer, until today:
Kathleen Turner, as Joan Wilder, in Romancing the Stone - Mostly I'm her in the opening scene where she's finishing her book. She's crying hysterically and way too happy with her own writing. I've totally written blog posts where I am entirely too proud of myself.
Obviously I am part punk princess! And I would looooove to do my hair like this, but I have crinkly hair....and I don't know if something like this would work on me.
I've been thinking about her post off and on, trying to figure out 'who's inside my head' but I wasn't really coming up with a great answer, until today:
Kathleen Turner, as Joan Wilder, in Romancing the Stone - Mostly I'm her in the opening scene where she's finishing her book. She's crying hysterically and way too happy with her own writing. I've totally written blog posts where I am entirely too proud of myself.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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| http://www.hairdye-colors.com |
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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| http://www.mtcoffinz.com |
My punk princess has a huge romantic side. As a full-time wife and homeschool mom I *really* need to figure out how to incorporate tutus in my everyday life.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The Muppets Swedish Chef, because really...no one can take my cooking too seriously and I have a damn good time whipping out a crazy dish or two.
How about you? Who's inside your head?
~The MFP
Do You Know What I Mean?
some times I understand the aldkjlpwe mvoe
f vjow
nvds;dofj
v;djaepi
vdj eiouf
jvgjgviogfjv0rw
or
the longing sensation of making sense...
f vjow
nvds;dofj
v;djaepi
vdj eiouf
jvgjgviogfjv0rw
or
the longing sensation of making sense...
Mother Freakin' Crabby Ass
Here's the thing, I know have a million things I am thankful for, but instead of chasing the rainbows and butterflies I've been clawing, scratching, kicking, and screaming. This doesn't do well for my writing (or my family). I tend to see myself as the heroine of my blog. I like to put out messages such as:
"Look at me. I'm down and out. Wait! I just kicked ass! I WIN!"
Instead all I want to write about is how stupid plantar fasciitis is and because I haven't been able to run or bike I started gaining weight again. Wait...the weight loss could actually be attributed to the increased drinking and eating I've done over the last month or so? Maybe. But wouldn't I rather blame the weight gain on something I *can't* control then something I *can* control? No. That's not really my style. I'm much more of a control freak then a blamer. I'm much more of a pull-myself-up-by-the-bootstraps kind of gal. So here I go:
Phase 3:
It's a five week plan that starts today - I could have started it yesterday since I did both yoga and weights, but that kinda felt like cheating, so it starts today.
Yoga daily
Weight lifting four times per week.
Crunchless Xtreme Abs w/Jackie four times per week.
Swimming at least three times per week.
Phase 3 also includes:
stretching my legs and feet daily to promote healing
no caffeine
and definitely no complaining about my lack of interest (read: hate) in lifting weights
I'm still refusing to count calories and I'm allowing myself to drink occasionally. My hope is that by the end of Phase 3 I will have lost at least ten pounds and my foot will be healed enough to do some light stationary biking. I'll be posting my workouts and other updates on Facebook. I always seem to do better when I have a some sort of public commitment (and a chart, I just love charts!).
"Look at me. I'm down and out. Wait! I just kicked ass! I WIN!"
Instead all I want to write about is how stupid plantar fasciitis is and because I haven't been able to run or bike I started gaining weight again. Wait...the weight loss could actually be attributed to the increased drinking and eating I've done over the last month or so? Maybe. But wouldn't I rather blame the weight gain on something I *can't* control then something I *can* control? No. That's not really my style. I'm much more of a control freak then a blamer. I'm much more of a pull-myself-up-by-the-bootstraps kind of gal. So here I go:
Phase 3:
It's a five week plan that starts today - I could have started it yesterday since I did both yoga and weights, but that kinda felt like cheating, so it starts today.
Yoga daily
Weight lifting four times per week.
Crunchless Xtreme Abs w/Jackie four times per week.
Swimming at least three times per week.
Phase 3 also includes:
stretching my legs and feet daily to promote healing
no caffeine
and definitely no complaining about my lack of interest (read: hate) in lifting weights
I'm still refusing to count calories and I'm allowing myself to drink occasionally. My hope is that by the end of Phase 3 I will have lost at least ten pounds and my foot will be healed enough to do some light stationary biking. I'll be posting my workouts and other updates on Facebook. I always seem to do better when I have a some sort of public commitment (and a chart, I just love charts!).
International Super Star
I added some tracking software to my blog. A few of my friends offered to help me with it, but it felt like we were just never able to connect. So I plugged my nose and tried it myself. I went with Google's Analytics. I thought what the heck, I'm using Google AdSense, I might as well use another Google product.
Here's the thing...I really, really like reports and stuff. This thing is AWESOME! I log in and I can see how many visits I've had, how long people spend on my page, how many are new visits, how many pages people look at, and...
I can tell where they are from! I mean I can *really* tell where they are from...like what city, and how many in each city...it is so-freaking-cool! And yesterday I logged on to my tracking site and SOMEONE FROM CANADA READ MY BLOG! omg...The Mother Freaking Princess has gone international.
Here's the thing...I really, really like reports and stuff. This thing is AWESOME! I log in and I can see how many visits I've had, how long people spend on my page, how many are new visits, how many pages people look at, and...
I can tell where they are from! I mean I can *really* tell where they are from...like what city, and how many in each city...it is so-freaking-cool! And yesterday I logged on to my tracking site and SOMEONE FROM CANADA READ MY BLOG! omg...The Mother Freaking Princess has gone international.
Fall Famliy Camping
We've tried to camp a few times this year, mostly due to our mountain bike season, but for the first time in my life I agreed to go Fall Family Camping. We had it all planned out. We would clear the calendar for the first weekend in October. Then we'd wait to see if the forecast would be stellar. We wouldn't make reservations, but we'd go up on Thursday so we wouldn't need them, and we would have the most terrific weekend of hiking and hanging with each other.
Wednesday night we double checked the forecast and everything seemed to be a "go". We drifted off to bed with nothing but Mother Nature in our dreams. A few hours later I was awoken a little differently then I had planned. Kade had a sore, dry throat. "Bummer", I thought. He probably got the little cold Nathan and I had the week before. I got him a drink and laid on the couch with him while he watched some cartoons.
A couple hours later Nathan and I debated whether we should continue with our camping plans or not. We asked Kade if he thought he'd be okay. He said, "No, I don't think I can do it." I told him that it wasn't really any different going camping when you have a cold or staying at home. He wasn't going to be allowed to watch tv all weekend anyway, so he might as well sit on our comfy camp chairs in front of the fire. He still said, "No." As knowledgeable parents, we decided what the heck. We might as well go. We've both had the cold and it wasn't *too* bad.
On our way out to the State Park we stopped at Target to pick up some batteries and a few gallons of water. While I was there I picked up a Lego Mini Figures Sticker book for Kade. I figure it would give him something kinda fun to look at and perk him up a bit. When I got back to the truck, Nathan asked me if I thought Kade felt hot. "No." I said. "I don't think he feels warm. He'll be fine." I assure him and off we go!
We circled the campground and found the perfect site. There was only one other campsite next to us and behind our site was this amazing savanna prairie and then the bluffs off the river. It must have been the most beautiful campsite I have ever seen. The first thing we do is set Kade up in a camp chair and then Nathan headed out to find firewood. Matt and Kelsey started to help me set up camp.
Kade starts to complain that he's cold. I find a blanket for him and continue with set up. The older kids and I start to get a little worried about Nathan. He's been out looking for firewood for a looong time. In fact, it's been so long that we're pretty much done with the set up. All that's left is to pump up the air-mattresses and make the beds, but we can't do that until he comes back. Nathan finally returns to the camp and says he couldn't find any fire wood. He had gone to all three places that should have had wood available, but there wasn't any there. Crap, we're gonna be cold tonight. Oh well, it's going to be a great weekend. We can handle one cold night. The forecast is beautiful and our site in unbelievable.
Kade pipes up again. He's getting 'really' cold. I find him another blanket, a hat, and a scarf. He's all snuggled up and we continue putting the finishing touches on the campsite. I *just* finished making all the beds and I go to the truck to get my scarf and sweatshirt. It's time to sit down, relax, and enjoy a brat. I turn away from the truck and I hear, "HE'S THROWING UP!" My heart sinks. I run over to him. I hold back the the blankets, the scarf, and take off his hat. The poor kid pukes and pukes. He finally finishes and it's pretty obvious we're gonna go home. We eat a quick dinner, repack camp, and head all the way back.
Kade spent the rest of the weekend in front of the tv. The rest of us spent the weekend commenting on what good weather we were having and how we'll need to try that campsite again next year.
Wednesday night we double checked the forecast and everything seemed to be a "go". We drifted off to bed with nothing but Mother Nature in our dreams. A few hours later I was awoken a little differently then I had planned. Kade had a sore, dry throat. "Bummer", I thought. He probably got the little cold Nathan and I had the week before. I got him a drink and laid on the couch with him while he watched some cartoons.
A couple hours later Nathan and I debated whether we should continue with our camping plans or not. We asked Kade if he thought he'd be okay. He said, "No, I don't think I can do it." I told him that it wasn't really any different going camping when you have a cold or staying at home. He wasn't going to be allowed to watch tv all weekend anyway, so he might as well sit on our comfy camp chairs in front of the fire. He still said, "No." As knowledgeable parents, we decided what the heck. We might as well go. We've both had the cold and it wasn't *too* bad.
On our way out to the State Park we stopped at Target to pick up some batteries and a few gallons of water. While I was there I picked up a Lego Mini Figures Sticker book for Kade. I figure it would give him something kinda fun to look at and perk him up a bit. When I got back to the truck, Nathan asked me if I thought Kade felt hot. "No." I said. "I don't think he feels warm. He'll be fine." I assure him and off we go!
We circled the campground and found the perfect site. There was only one other campsite next to us and behind our site was this amazing savanna prairie and then the bluffs off the river. It must have been the most beautiful campsite I have ever seen. The first thing we do is set Kade up in a camp chair and then Nathan headed out to find firewood. Matt and Kelsey started to help me set up camp.
Kade starts to complain that he's cold. I find a blanket for him and continue with set up. The older kids and I start to get a little worried about Nathan. He's been out looking for firewood for a looong time. In fact, it's been so long that we're pretty much done with the set up. All that's left is to pump up the air-mattresses and make the beds, but we can't do that until he comes back. Nathan finally returns to the camp and says he couldn't find any fire wood. He had gone to all three places that should have had wood available, but there wasn't any there. Crap, we're gonna be cold tonight. Oh well, it's going to be a great weekend. We can handle one cold night. The forecast is beautiful and our site in unbelievable.
Kade pipes up again. He's getting 'really' cold. I find him another blanket, a hat, and a scarf. He's all snuggled up and we continue putting the finishing touches on the campsite. I *just* finished making all the beds and I go to the truck to get my scarf and sweatshirt. It's time to sit down, relax, and enjoy a brat. I turn away from the truck and I hear, "HE'S THROWING UP!" My heart sinks. I run over to him. I hold back the the blankets, the scarf, and take off his hat. The poor kid pukes and pukes. He finally finishes and it's pretty obvious we're gonna go home. We eat a quick dinner, repack camp, and head all the way back.
Kade spent the rest of the weekend in front of the tv. The rest of us spent the weekend commenting on what good weather we were having and how we'll need to try that campsite again next year.
Reverting
When I was a young woman, I used to joke that the only kind of camping I was willing to do would be at Camp Holiday Inn. This was mostly due to the fact that as a child almost every camping trip I went on with my parents was completely uncomfortable and usually ended in rain. And then there was the one time it ended in a tornado...me, holding my baby sister, sitting in the tent and watching it heave in and out...yeah that particular trip might have had something to do with my dislike for camping.
Fifteen years ago, Nathan and I went on our fist camping trip together and I was shocked at the differences. Instead of four people sleeping in a 'four person tent' (seriously, who sleeps side by side like that without any gear when camping?!?!?), there was just the two of us in a four person tent.
Instead of sleeping with rocks and sticks poking me in the back all night, we slept on an air mattress. Instead of our campsite being in a parking lot next to fifty other campers, our site was secluded amongst the trees. And instead of the cold and rainy weather I was used to, we had a calm cool breeze at night and it was completely-rain-free!
I was sold on this new version of camping and soon we started adding gear to make our camping more and more convenient. Seriously, we camp like kings and queens. Here's a picture of my camping bed, it's a double-decker air-mattress, with sheets and satin pillowcases:
We love camping so much we've considered buying and living full-time in an RV. An RV....now that would rock. Imagine most of your things pre-packed in your camper, pulling up to your sight, leveling your camper, and then....just enjoying yourself for the duration of the trip.
Over the last year or so, this RV dream of mine has become a bit obsessive. It's to the point where I don't want to camp anymore without one. I'm tired of setting up the tents (3 of them), filling up air-mattresses (4 of them, including the double-decker which requires a special plug-in that runs off the battery of the truck), putting sheets on the bed and rolling out sleeping bags, pounding the Kamp Pal into the ground (with it's paper towels, garbage bag, lantern, and hand sanitizer), putting out the table cloth, setting out the chairs, organizing the camp stove, gas burner, AND the gas griddle, stringing the close line, filling the water jug, erecting the canopy, and then finally playing the 'what did we forget?' game.
This past weekend we went camping and there was something *different* about it. When we pulled up to the camp site, everyone jumped out of the truck and we had camp set up in less then an hour, less then an hour! It was easy and fun. I stood there, dazed and confused, wondering why on earth I wanted an RV so badly. Then it hit me. Over the last year, in an attempt to get a head start on our camping weekends, I have gone out early with the kids and set up camp without Nathan three of the last five times.
I don't need an RV, I just need my husband...the camper.
Fifteen years ago, Nathan and I went on our fist camping trip together and I was shocked at the differences. Instead of four people sleeping in a 'four person tent' (seriously, who sleeps side by side like that without any gear when camping?!?!?), there was just the two of us in a four person tent.
Instead of sleeping with rocks and sticks poking me in the back all night, we slept on an air mattress. Instead of our campsite being in a parking lot next to fifty other campers, our site was secluded amongst the trees. And instead of the cold and rainy weather I was used to, we had a calm cool breeze at night and it was completely-rain-free!
I was sold on this new version of camping and soon we started adding gear to make our camping more and more convenient. Seriously, we camp like kings and queens. Here's a picture of my camping bed, it's a double-decker air-mattress, with sheets and satin pillowcases:
We love camping so much we've considered buying and living full-time in an RV. An RV....now that would rock. Imagine most of your things pre-packed in your camper, pulling up to your sight, leveling your camper, and then....just enjoying yourself for the duration of the trip.
Over the last year or so, this RV dream of mine has become a bit obsessive. It's to the point where I don't want to camp anymore without one. I'm tired of setting up the tents (3 of them), filling up air-mattresses (4 of them, including the double-decker which requires a special plug-in that runs off the battery of the truck), putting sheets on the bed and rolling out sleeping bags, pounding the Kamp Pal into the ground (with it's paper towels, garbage bag, lantern, and hand sanitizer), putting out the table cloth, setting out the chairs, organizing the camp stove, gas burner, AND the gas griddle, stringing the close line, filling the water jug, erecting the canopy, and then finally playing the 'what did we forget?' game.
This past weekend we went camping and there was something *different* about it. When we pulled up to the camp site, everyone jumped out of the truck and we had camp set up in less then an hour, less then an hour! It was easy and fun. I stood there, dazed and confused, wondering why on earth I wanted an RV so badly. Then it hit me. Over the last year, in an attempt to get a head start on our camping weekends, I have gone out early with the kids and set up camp without Nathan three of the last five times.
I don't need an RV, I just need my husband...the camper.
Joy Ride
I've been a bit moody the last few weeks. I wasn't really sure what it was, but I might have figured it out last night on my bike ride. I think it's because I've been in a constant state of 'not-really-all-that-great'.
I mountain bike and I basically battle it out for not-last-place every race. I have yet to have a race where I'm middle of the pack, let alone close to first. I raced Ragnar. Our team's only expectations were to survive. We knew we weren't going to win our division (most of us probably don't even know what division we were in) and we weren't exactly the most creative/spirited team - although we did get a lot of props for the tutus.
So I've been working my ass off all spring and summer to be 'not-really-all-that-great'. It sucks. I want to feel like I can do anything. I want to feel strong and lean. I want to feel powerful and graceful at the same time. I want to be proud of myself. And I get it....I *get* that just getting out there is great and that I have a lot to be proud of and I am strong and graceful. BUT...I want more. I want to be good...no, I want to be great. I want to be great at...something.
Last night we went mountain biking. We went to our 'home' course. We left the two younger kids at home, they were tired. It was just Nathan, The Social Guy, and Me. The plan was; I was going to ride the whole trail once, and the two boys would ride the whole trail, plus an additional hard loop. We pulled up to the trail and when we started to get our gear on, The Social Guy realized he didn't bring his biking shoes. He can't go biking without his biking shoes. We decided that Nathan and I would still bike, but just shorten our ride. Nathan would do the whole trail and I would do the medium loop twice.
OH MY GOD....I had one of the best rides of my life. The trail was just challenging enough to keep my interested and I flew like a mother fucker. I felt I had wings. I just glided along the trail, up and down the hills, over rocks and between the trees. No one passed me. I got out to the clearing at the end of my first loop and tears streamed down my face. THIS IS WHAT IT'S SUPPOSED TO FEEL LIKE! I went for a second lap and again, had the time of my life. I was not only good last night on the trail, I was great.
This is me, after my ride. It's a pretty bad picture, but I can't be great at everything :)
I mountain bike and I basically battle it out for not-last-place every race. I have yet to have a race where I'm middle of the pack, let alone close to first. I raced Ragnar. Our team's only expectations were to survive. We knew we weren't going to win our division (most of us probably don't even know what division we were in) and we weren't exactly the most creative/spirited team - although we did get a lot of props for the tutus.
So I've been working my ass off all spring and summer to be 'not-really-all-that-great'. It sucks. I want to feel like I can do anything. I want to feel strong and lean. I want to feel powerful and graceful at the same time. I want to be proud of myself. And I get it....I *get* that just getting out there is great and that I have a lot to be proud of and I am strong and graceful. BUT...I want more. I want to be good...no, I want to be great. I want to be great at...something.
Last night we went mountain biking. We went to our 'home' course. We left the two younger kids at home, they were tired. It was just Nathan, The Social Guy, and Me. The plan was; I was going to ride the whole trail once, and the two boys would ride the whole trail, plus an additional hard loop. We pulled up to the trail and when we started to get our gear on, The Social Guy realized he didn't bring his biking shoes. He can't go biking without his biking shoes. We decided that Nathan and I would still bike, but just shorten our ride. Nathan would do the whole trail and I would do the medium loop twice.
OH MY GOD....I had one of the best rides of my life. The trail was just challenging enough to keep my interested and I flew like a mother fucker. I felt I had wings. I just glided along the trail, up and down the hills, over rocks and between the trees. No one passed me. I got out to the clearing at the end of my first loop and tears streamed down my face. THIS IS WHAT IT'S SUPPOSED TO FEEL LIKE! I went for a second lap and again, had the time of my life. I was not only good last night on the trail, I was great.
This is me, after my ride. It's a pretty bad picture, but I can't be great at everything :)
Think Pink
About a year ago I decided to put in a pink highlight in my hair.
I know...I'm closer to 40 then to 16, but I had this complete yearning for a streak of pink in my hair. I loved it. I felt spunky and I thought it was beautiful. Over the last year I've not only tried pink, but also crimson red, and electric blue. And I've tried a couple different brands of hair color too. My favorite brand is Manic Panic.
Earlier this year I took the color out and just kept a streak of bleached/blond. It was fine, more grown up and adult like.
Totally grown-up, right? But not exactly me. Last night Nathan helped me go back to pink. I love pink! And I don't do it because I think I'm a teenager rebelling against my parents and/or 'The Man'. I do it because I think it's pretty and I like the way I feel.
Which brings me to another subject...my tutus. I like the way I feel in them too, but have only worn tutus to my sporting events (mountain bike racing and the Ragnar). Is wearing a tutu out in public on a regular basis just too much? I'm still debating that one.
I know...I'm closer to 40 then to 16, but I had this complete yearning for a streak of pink in my hair. I loved it. I felt spunky and I thought it was beautiful. Over the last year I've not only tried pink, but also crimson red, and electric blue. And I've tried a couple different brands of hair color too. My favorite brand is Manic Panic.
Earlier this year I took the color out and just kept a streak of bleached/blond. It was fine, more grown up and adult like.
Totally grown-up, right? But not exactly me. Last night Nathan helped me go back to pink. I love pink! And I don't do it because I think I'm a teenager rebelling against my parents and/or 'The Man'. I do it because I think it's pretty and I like the way I feel.
Which brings me to another subject...my tutus. I like the way I feel in them too, but have only worn tutus to my sporting events (mountain bike racing and the Ragnar). Is wearing a tutu out in public on a regular basis just too much? I'm still debating that one.
Awesomeness
A couple weeks ago I had the pleasure of mountain bike training with two of my friends. Both are new to the sport. One of them had been mountain biking once before and the other one, well it was her first time. I warned them the week prior to the bike ride that if they saw anything they didn't want to go over they could just hop off their bikes and walk. This was to be a no pressure ride...let's just have a good time.
Well, these girls got on the course and went completely mad! They ripped up the hills and jumped over rocks and logs. They even took this drop/berm here:
(Do you see how steep that drop is? It's about a five foot, mostly vertical drop!)
They didn't think anything of it. They didn't know they were *supposed* to walk down that hill and over that berm.
It's all good though. I was riding behind them and when I caught up to them, I made sure to show them how to get off their bikes and walk. Do you know what these girls did? They encouraged me to take the drop on the next lap.
Again we went around and I panicked. "I'm supposed to walk down all the scary parts." These women didn't let up. They told me to back my bike up and try again. They said I could do this. I took another false start. I pointed out the fallen tree that my head might hit when I took the berm (look again at the photo). They assured me I would not hit the tree and mentioned how they had both already done it and neither of them had hit the tree. These ladies were just not buying any of my reasoning and common sense. I took a deep breath and backed my bike up again. I pedaled up to the drop and...
I DID IT! Full of adrenaline and excitement I screamed at my friends, "YOU'RE SO AWESOME!" They screamed back, "YOU ARE AWESOME!" Then I screamed, "YOU ARE AWESOME!" This round of awesomeness went on for awhile and then we collapsed in a fit of giggles because we are all just so awesome.
My vision that day was stretched beyond what I ever thought possible. I did things that day that made my heart soar and I finally felt like a 'real' mountain biker.
Well, these girls got on the course and went completely mad! They ripped up the hills and jumped over rocks and logs. They even took this drop/berm here:
They didn't think anything of it. They didn't know they were *supposed* to walk down that hill and over that berm.
It's all good though. I was riding behind them and when I caught up to them, I made sure to show them how to get off their bikes and walk. Do you know what these girls did? They encouraged me to take the drop on the next lap.
Again we went around and I panicked. "I'm supposed to walk down all the scary parts." These women didn't let up. They told me to back my bike up and try again. They said I could do this. I took another false start. I pointed out the fallen tree that my head might hit when I took the berm (look again at the photo). They assured me I would not hit the tree and mentioned how they had both already done it and neither of them had hit the tree. These ladies were just not buying any of my reasoning and common sense. I took a deep breath and backed my bike up again. I pedaled up to the drop and...
I DID IT! Full of adrenaline and excitement I screamed at my friends, "YOU'RE SO AWESOME!" They screamed back, "YOU ARE AWESOME!" Then I screamed, "YOU ARE AWESOME!" This round of awesomeness went on for awhile and then we collapsed in a fit of giggles because we are all just so awesome.
My vision that day was stretched beyond what I ever thought possible. I did things that day that made my heart soar and I finally felt like a 'real' mountain biker.
DNF...Been There Done That!
Last weekend we mountain bike raced at a very challenging course, Afton Alps. The course had crazy up hills and tons of technical, steep, rocky down hills. I was really nervous for it. Although I practiced the course twice before the race, I actually never practiced a full lap. I mentally prepared myself though and imagined riding all the obstacles and making it down all the narly hills.
Race day came and I thought it would be best to leave my tutu at home - this is a serious course and it would require all of my concentration. I was very nervous, but I knew I would try hard and do my best. My best included walking my bike up several hills and down just a couple of them. I wasn't alone. Lots of people in my class were walking up and down those same hills. There was a tough battle going on between me and about three other riders for 'not-last-place'.
Towards the end of my first lap the leaders of the race had caught up to me. I was being lapped. The first rider was completely nice about it and waited for me to get down a long, steep hill before he announced his pass, then passed me. The second rider passed me shortly after the first. He announced his pass and took me on the left. Just as he passed me, my bike slipped out from under me and I fell to the ground. I let out a small screech and he looked back at me, told me he was sorry, and asked if I was okay. I told him I was fine and it wasn't his fault, it was mine. I got back on my bike and was just starting to take off when the third rider came up behind me and said, "Get off the trail, please!"
This is when I lost it. I screamed back, "I just wiped out!!!" He passed me and I continued on my journey. I made it down the long fast hill at the end and then took a berm a little too high and a little too slow. I did a slow motion wipe out in front of *everyone*. I picked my bike up, determined and strong? No, I gave up. I walked off the trail, with a broken heart and hurt pride. I felt I didn't belong. I wasn't good enough. I was too fat and out of shape. I was a silly girl to think I could race...
Although I tried to be kind and gentle with myself for walking off the course that day, I carried these feelings of 'not good enough' with me all last week. I debated on whether or not I would race again on Sunday. A day before the race I finally committed.
The race started and again I battled for 'not-last-place'. Again I walked my bike up and down the same hills as everyone else. Again I got lapped by the leaders of the race. But this time it was different. This time I would not give up. I would hold my head high and smile at those who passed me, wishing them a good ride. This time I would finish the race and it would take everything inside of me to do so. This time me and my tutu would get our much deserved medal...
From now on, if this Mother Freakin' Princess lines up at the starting line, you can bet your ass she's going finish the race!
Race day came and I thought it would be best to leave my tutu at home - this is a serious course and it would require all of my concentration. I was very nervous, but I knew I would try hard and do my best. My best included walking my bike up several hills and down just a couple of them. I wasn't alone. Lots of people in my class were walking up and down those same hills. There was a tough battle going on between me and about three other riders for 'not-last-place'.
Towards the end of my first lap the leaders of the race had caught up to me. I was being lapped. The first rider was completely nice about it and waited for me to get down a long, steep hill before he announced his pass, then passed me. The second rider passed me shortly after the first. He announced his pass and took me on the left. Just as he passed me, my bike slipped out from under me and I fell to the ground. I let out a small screech and he looked back at me, told me he was sorry, and asked if I was okay. I told him I was fine and it wasn't his fault, it was mine. I got back on my bike and was just starting to take off when the third rider came up behind me and said, "Get off the trail, please!"
This is when I lost it. I screamed back, "I just wiped out!!!" He passed me and I continued on my journey. I made it down the long fast hill at the end and then took a berm a little too high and a little too slow. I did a slow motion wipe out in front of *everyone*. I picked my bike up, determined and strong? No, I gave up. I walked off the trail, with a broken heart and hurt pride. I felt I didn't belong. I wasn't good enough. I was too fat and out of shape. I was a silly girl to think I could race...
Although I tried to be kind and gentle with myself for walking off the course that day, I carried these feelings of 'not good enough' with me all last week. I debated on whether or not I would race again on Sunday. A day before the race I finally committed.
The race started and again I battled for 'not-last-place'. Again I walked my bike up and down the same hills as everyone else. Again I got lapped by the leaders of the race. But this time it was different. This time I would not give up. I would hold my head high and smile at those who passed me, wishing them a good ride. This time I would finish the race and it would take everything inside of me to do so. This time me and my tutu would get our much deserved medal...
Meal Planning
We have an out of town mountain bike race this weekend, so we'll be enjoying one of our families all time greatest pastimes: camping!
Being the Domestic MFPrincess I am, I have been doing the clothes packing, errand running, and meal planning for the trip. We've been camping for years and years, so I kinda got it all down. I have an excel check list of all the things we will need to pack. I've been running around picking up things (like a bike trailer for the dog), and I outlined meals for breakfast, lunch, snacks, dinner, snacks, and dessert.
This trip I planned on fresh strawberries, grapes, cherries, some fresh veggies with homemade spinach dip, burgers (turkey or beef *and* with or without mushrooms, bacon, or cheese - jalapeno cheddar or colby jack), brats (chicken/feta/spinach, chicken andouille, chicken apple gouda, or old fashioned wieners), turkey/bacon/avocado sandwiches, a quinoa salad, breakfast pudgy pies (scrambled eggs, onions, peppers, and sausage enclosed in two slices of bread and cooked over the open fire), mini cinnamon rolls, lemon brunch cake, pita chips, some sort of sprouted veggie chips, cookies, and a cold chicken pesto pasta salad...
Sometimes when we go camping I bring too much food.
I thought about this today as I started making the pasta and quinoa salads.
And then I put the six chicken breasts I planned on putting in the cold chicken pesto pasta salad in the microwave to get them out of my way.
And I left them there.
For a long time.
Too long.
We'll need to throw them out.
I stopped at Cub Foods and grabbed ONE rotisserie chicken to replace those SIX chicken breasts.
We might run out of food while camping. I'll let you know.
Being the Domestic MFPrincess I am, I have been doing the clothes packing, errand running, and meal planning for the trip. We've been camping for years and years, so I kinda got it all down. I have an excel check list of all the things we will need to pack. I've been running around picking up things (like a bike trailer for the dog), and I outlined meals for breakfast, lunch, snacks, dinner, snacks, and dessert.
This trip I planned on fresh strawberries, grapes, cherries, some fresh veggies with homemade spinach dip, burgers (turkey or beef *and* with or without mushrooms, bacon, or cheese - jalapeno cheddar or colby jack), brats (chicken/feta/spinach, chicken andouille, chicken apple gouda, or old fashioned wieners), turkey/bacon/avocado sandwiches, a quinoa salad, breakfast pudgy pies (scrambled eggs, onions, peppers, and sausage enclosed in two slices of bread and cooked over the open fire), mini cinnamon rolls, lemon brunch cake, pita chips, some sort of sprouted veggie chips, cookies, and a cold chicken pesto pasta salad...
Sometimes when we go camping I bring too much food.
I thought about this today as I started making the pasta and quinoa salads.
And then I put the six chicken breasts I planned on putting in the cold chicken pesto pasta salad in the microwave to get them out of my way.
And I left them there.
For a long time.
Too long.
We'll need to throw them out.
I stopped at Cub Foods and grabbed ONE rotisserie chicken to replace those SIX chicken breasts.
We might run out of food while camping. I'll let you know.
The Search Continues
I'm doing my best to find out 'exactly' who I am. Which is odd in itself because I feel that most people grow and change. So reality is that I will never know 'exactly' who I am. Sometimes we are forced into a period of growth and other times we just find ourselves there.
I am constantly growing. For example, even just a few months ago I had sworn off coconut for-ev-er, *knowing* that I hated it. I hate the way it tasted. I hate the texture of it. (Oh, but I do kinda like the smell of it.) WAIT!!! I hate coconut! And then...I decided that I'm not against trying things with coconut in them. I am not about limiting myself, even to things I *knew* were true about me. And you know what? I had changed. I can say that I have actually enjoyed things with coconut in them. Weird, I like coconut?!?!
So don't pin me down, don't judge me for this or that, and please...please don't tell me you know me or what you think I am or what I like or don't like....because you just never know - hell, I don't even know!
Collections
I have a few collections. Okay, I have several odd collections. One of my favorite collections is of floor cleaners. You see, I own five of them. They all have different purposes. Some are for the hard floors, some for the carpet. I have a couple that are for getting into the tight cracks and corners, and some are made specifically for sucking up dog hair.
You see, I can't help myself. I go into the store and somehow find my way to the floor cleaning mechanisms aisle and next thing you know I've got some sort of cleaning deal in my cart. You see, there *has* to be the perfect machine out there. The one that will clean both hard and carpeted floors. One that will steam clean stains out of the carpet and vacuum dog hair all at once. This machine will get into the cracks and crevasses, without any attachments. It will be light weight and be able to suck up a small child.
I'll admit, I've actually been talked out of the floor cleaning aisle more then once...apparently some people don't think I *need* another appliance to clean the floor. Oh, but I do. One of the top things on my Christmas list this year is a Little Green Machine :)
So, what kinds of things do you collect?
You see, I can't help myself. I go into the store and somehow find my way to the floor cleaning mechanisms aisle and next thing you know I've got some sort of cleaning deal in my cart. You see, there *has* to be the perfect machine out there. The one that will clean both hard and carpeted floors. One that will steam clean stains out of the carpet and vacuum dog hair all at once. This machine will get into the cracks and crevasses, without any attachments. It will be light weight and be able to suck up a small child.
I'll admit, I've actually been talked out of the floor cleaning aisle more then once...apparently some people don't think I *need* another appliance to clean the floor. Oh, but I do. One of the top things on my Christmas list this year is a Little Green Machine :)
So, what kinds of things do you collect?
The Flu
We have the flu at our house. I can tell you where we got it (or at least I think I can). Matt brought it home from football. You see, it was against "some rule" for players to bring their own water bottles to the football games. The team was required to share water bottles. The bottles are those squeezy kind. You don't actually *have* to put your mouth on the bottle to get it to work. Apparently the coaches forgot to teach that to the ninth grade football team. Even if they would've offered a lesson on "How To Drink From a Water Bottle 101", I know the attention span of a fifteen year old. The lesson wouldn't have mattered.
Last night I received an email from the coach saying that over 30% of the football players on the ninth grade team were out sick Monday. They have a new policy now. Each player is required to have their own water bottle....geez. took. them. long. enough.
Last night I received an email from the coach saying that over 30% of the football players on the ninth grade team were out sick Monday. They have a new policy now. Each player is required to have their own water bottle....geez. took. them. long. enough.
