What comes after 26?

This happened over the weekend:

I don't want to talk about it. But I'll write about it. This was my first "scary" birthday. When I turned 26, somehow I knew that it would be my last birthday before I felt old. 26 seemed fine to me, but 27 was a whole different story. I have no idea why. Regardless of the fact that I'm feeling kind of geriatric, it was still a fun day. (Or, fun extended weekend, because I have the tendency to drag my birthday celebrations on for as long as possible.)

My birthday fell on a Saturday (April 16) but Frank had Friday off and it was gorgeous outside so we just pretended that Friday was my birthday. I came downstairs in the morning and saw this sitting out on my back deck:

I love spring flowers and these tulips were perfect for me. Plus they're potted, so I can plant them in the ground and I will be a lot less likely to kill them.

I also noticed that this was in the oven:

MY husband, baking a cake? Yes. And it was funfetti. Are you jealous yet? Because you should be.

Then I got my presents, where were wrapped in Christmas paper. He tries.

But I forgave him for the wrap job, because what was inside totally made up for it:

A leather Michael Kors bag and a wad of cash. He knows me so well. He also got me a book, which was really cute because he knows how much I love to read.

After that, I took my wad of cash, stuffed it in my new purse and we went out shopping to spend it. I bought some new dresses for our trip to Italy, among other things. 

Frank said, "Where do you want to go to eat? I'll take you anywhere you want." And, being the classy lady that I am, I chose Red Lobster. I just really wanted crab legs, don't judge. 

We also got some extra delicious birthday Starbucks.

And Frank took an incredibly unflattering picture of me blowing out my birthday candles.

That night we went over to a friend's house to watch the hockey game (YAWN) and then we went to a bar afterward. I stayed just long enough to make it until midnight and then booked it out of there to go to bed. See, I told you I'm old.

Saturday was my real birthday, even though unfortunately, it was rainy and miserable outside. I celebrated by going to the gym and then taking a long nap. That night, Frank threw a "surprise" party for me. He pretty much throws me a surprise party every year, except that I know about the whole thing. We went to the local bar and 40 friends showed up! Frank said he counted, but I think he may have counted a few people twice. I even stayed awake until 1:30 am, so I consider the night a great success. 

Progress

Just thought I'd update about the status of my healthy eating/exercise plan. I know you really care and you're just dying to know, ha. But really, its just so I can keep track. Here's my weight chart, I use SparkPeople.com. I look at this a lot because when my weight spikes up a little once in a while, I can remind myself that it's all a downward trend. All those peaks that happen about once a week are my lower body lifting days. Interesting, right? You retain a lot of water and your muscles fill up with blood to try to recover.

My original goal was to be at 115 lbs by the time I went to Italy, but then I raised the stakes and changed it to 115 by my birthday. Right now I'm 116.4, but my birthday is on Saturday so I don't think I'm going to be at 115 on the dot by then. It's looking good for vacation though.

I know it's not always good to be fixated on a weight number goal. But I'm motivated by concrete goals, and seeing that exact, measurable statistic every day really keeps me going. It's just what works for me, it may not be what works for you.

So I'm only about a pound away from my goal weight. I'm not planning on officially lowering my goal again, but inevitably I will have that next 5 pound interval in my head. I'm not planning on changing my daily calorie goals or my workout routines just for the sake of maintaining weight. I'm interested in seeing where my weight "settles" without changing my routines.

I feel great, but it's kind of sad to me how easy it is to get used to your changed body and start finding flaws again. If you would have told me 6 months ago that I would lose almost 20 pounds, I would be ecstatic. Now I'm already used to my new weight and picking on myself for new things. Guess it's the plight of being a girl, never satisfied with yourself! Oh well, I'm enjoying my new clothing sizes and my lack of a muffin top, so there's some positivity for you!

PS. In posting these complaints/progress, I am NOT fishing for compliments, seriously. This is more for my "records" and to relate to others who are trying to get healthier.

PPS. It should also be noted that I housed half a bag of Moose Munch while writing this post. #Winning

Over three months of significantly less pizza and booze.

How do you say "Zoloft" in Italian?

You guys, I have just a little over two weeks until my trip to Italy and the anxiety has begun to kick in. That's what sets someone with anxiety disorder apart from the rest. Instead of thinking "vacation, cheese, men in tight pants!", I'm thinking, "doom, gloom, language barrier."

Yes, the language barrier is what I'm most concerned about. You see, I'm not exactly the most worldly chick. The most foreign land I've been to was Riviera Maya in Mexico, and that barely counted. We were secluded on a giant resort with tons of other tourists, most of them English-speaking. The most culture shock I experienced there were the throngs of European tourists in speedos and aqua socks. It also helped that I had three years of high school Spanish under my belt, much of which miraculously came back to me on the trip.

I know, everyone says that most of the people I'll encounter will speak at least a little English. Especially in all the main tourists areas, where we're going. But I feel like I need to at least make an effort to speak their language. I have this fear of being viewed as an ignorant American. Especially when so many Americans demand that anyone coming to our country speak English. Yet they don't expect to be held to the same standards in another country?

Frank is not to concerned because he is Frank and he is never concerned about anything. He thinks that as long as we know how to say "pizza" we'll be fine. I'm having nightmares in which we will be drinking toilet water and eating pizza for every meal, which wouldn't be so bad minus the toilet water part. I'm also worried about money and paying. Like if someone says the total of our bill and we don't understand what they're saying, so we just have to hand them a wad of euros and hope for the best. I don't want to make the Italians angry, like this:

Another concern I have is shoes. I like to look good on vacation because a) the world is judging me and b) I want to look good in pictures. So I'm planning on buying all these new cute dresses and not wearing fanny packs and t-shirts every day. But the issue is the shoes. We'll be walking everywhere, on billion year old cobblestone streets, and I'm having an issue with finding very comfortable, non-athletic shoes that don't make me look butch-femme. Is it too much to ask?

The third largest concern is electricity. Like, how to harness it and use it for good. I know I need to buy things like adapters and converters and I also know that they cost a lot of money. But along with my pizza and toilet water dreams, I'm having visions of exploding flat irons and iPhones. I will probably be afraid to use anything. And yes, I know my iPhone won't work there, but I can't fall asleep or go to the toilet without playing Angry Birds. These things have become physical impossibilities in the modern world.

Next on the list is flying. The longest flight I've ever been on was about four hours. I'm not really afraid of actually flying and being millions of miles off the ground, I'm more concerned about claustrophobia. It's the "there's only one way outta this thing" factor that's bringing me down. Our flight will land bright and early in the morning, Rome time, so it's not like i'll be able to go to sleep when we get in. I'm planning on not sleeping the night before we leave, popping some klonopin or tylenol pm on the plane and knocking myself unconscious. I once slept 24 hours straight on a bus ride to Panama City with the aid of a double dose of Nyquil. If I can sleep through a 24 hour bus ride with 100 drunk spring breakers, this should be cake.

One more thing. This will be the longest period of time that we have left our kid. You know, the one with floppy ears and a chronic humping habit. My brother in law may be watching him but that's not set in stone, so we had to find alternate care. Normally, we leave him with my sister-in-law and her family, but the last time he was there, he pooped in their house and ran away. Their four year old son confided in me that "Wilby pooped on the floor and then Daddy said a bad word," so I'm guessing he's probably worn out his welcome there. Luckily, we found a lady that runs a doggy day care out of her home. She just lets the dogs have the run of her house and her yard and only crates them if she has to leave the house. She even lets the dogs sleep in bed with her . . . all of them. I know what you're thinking, she's a creeper. It's kind of like we're leaving Wilbur at the Neverland Ranch for 11 days. But we're okay with that.

Have you been somewhere foreign without knowing the language? Any advice?

I have a new lover . . .

It was time to break up with Big Red, my beloved but used and abused coffeemaker. We had some good times but it was time to upgrade . . .

It was actually Frank's idea to upgrade to a Keurig. I had my reservations. It just seemed like a lot of money to spend on a coffeemaker. It also seemed like a lot of money to spend on the actual coffee. I LOVE my coffee but I'm not a coffee snob, Folgers is what my parents have had in the house for 500 years and its what I've always kept in my freezer (a weird habit from my mom, who freezes EVERYTHING). But my husband . . . he is a coffee snob in the worst way. Which explains why we spent over $500 at Starbucks last year. His reasoning was that if we had a Keurig and different kinds of gourmet coffees at our disposal, he would spend less dough at the Bucks. I'm not buying it, but I couldn't resist the pull of something new and shiny, so I went out and bought it at Kohls (I had $50 store credit for there).

Well, consider me converted. I am obsessed with this thing. Just the fact that there is not the task of emptying out a soggy coffee filter and scooping out new coffee standing between me and my morning cup, makes the morning so much smoother. Yeah, its more expensive. But I think its worth it to spend a little extra money to get that simple daily pleasure. Yes, I'm self-justifying. 

The first thing I wanted to do was stock up on all different kinds of K-cups. I searched online for discount retailers and found Big Cat Coffees. You can create your own variety packs by selecting any kinds you want. I would be lying if I said that I didn't select 50% of the coffee based on the sweet graphic design on the front of the cups. What can I say, it looks good on my counter.

Big Cat even included a free sample of this chocolate glazed donut coffee. And a piece of candy! It's like they already knew me. I made sure to make it clear to Frank that if he even touched this with his dirty paws I would file for divorce. Mine.

I'm still feel a little guilt about the Keurig. A couple people have accused us of Yuppiedom. It's also not exactly the green thing to do, with packaging waste from every cup of coffee. I'll be extra diligent about recycling. 

Are you really particular about your coffee, or will any old cup of joe do? 

PS. Neither Keurig nor Big Cat Coffees is paying me, and they have no idea who I am, but if they wish to send me a lifetime supply of coffee, I will happily oblige.

Half-Ass April Fool's Joke

I was feeling too lazy to set up an elaborate April Fool's joke. Luckily, I had these two things within twenty feet of me:

Pink Marker 

plus a dollar store pregnancy test, given to me as a gag gift

= a super lame and obvious April Fool's joke. Oh well, I used the resources I had on hand.

He called me a few minutes later and said "Are you serious?" and I said "Are YOU serious?" Wow.