Rebellin

It has just been a crappy day.  First I broke my blog.  Then my watch broke at the gym and a piece of it fell in the toilet.  So I had to stick my hand in the gym toilet to rescue it. 

Work has required stupid red tape all day, and oh, my blog images are still broken.

I had thoughts of just quitting blogging all together.

But you all know that I couldn’t do that, as I’m addicted.  But it REALLY gets to the perfectionist in me that my images are all broken.  Gah!!!!  If anyone can help, please email lynnettebellin at hotmail dot com.  I’m willing to bribe you…

I just couldn’t handle the gazillion comment spams I was receiving every day any more.  I was deleting many real comments as I tried to purge all of the spam from my account.

Upgrading Movable Type is a painful process.  A friend recommended Word Press, and voila!  Look at me, I changed my blog platforms ALL BY MYSELF!  OK, with only a few emails for support.  But anyway, it’s done!

Now, I just need someone to help me with some style sheets to make this site look less lame.  Anyone looking for a small freelance gig?  Let me know in the comments if you’re interested!

Updated to add: CRAP AGAIN!!!  I went from breaking half the pictures on my site a few days ago, to breaking ALL of them (including video and slide shows) when I switched platforms.  See, there is a reason I don’t screw with the platform very often.  Someone help!

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I’m proud to say that I am now working for one of the 100 Best Companies for Working Mothers. I was really glad to see my company on that list. If you have to be a working mom, it helps to be working for a company that is supportive of your dual careers (the day job and Mommyhood).

Things are going well at work. I’m finding the entire atmosphere refreshing, and my brain is finally stimulated again. I work with REALLY smart people, which makes it all the more interesting.

I’m sorry I haven’t had much to say this week… Not much going on besides work and hanging out with Little Miss. Next week I have my first business trip since Little Miss was born. It will be three long days of meetings. In one way, I’m looking forward to the change of scenery, but also know I’ll miss my baby so very much.

I’ve decided that searching for a new job is much like the dating scene. Follow along with me here.

You first see that job posting, it’s like seeing a really hot guy from across the room. Looks good… You decided to look into it further, and then send on your resume. Very much like online dating if you ask me.

And then you wait. You put yourself out there, and now you have to wait to see if they’re interested.

The phone finally rings, or they finally answer your e-mail and they’re asking you to an interview. It’s just like a first date! Oh my gosh, what am I going to wear, what am I going to say, whill they like me?!!!! I want to make a good first impression….

Before the interview, you fuss about your outfit, your hair and your makeup, wanting to look just so. On that interview, you offer your winningest smile, and answer questions the way you think they’d want to hear the answers. You try to read body language and verbal cues to see if they like you or not.

And then you wait again for them to call. Meanwhile, you’re still wondering, did they like me? Could I have answered their questions better? When are they going to call?

So you send e-mails to thank them for the interview (much like if you were to e-mail someone you went on a date with just to say hello). You don’t get a response, so then you start to wonder well, what does THAT mean?

And then, finally they call. And you learn that you got the job. THEY LIKE ME! THEY LIKE ME!

But then you have to talk DETAILS. Much like in dating how those first conversations about marriage and kids can be daunting, negotiating that job offer feels much the same. You WANT to tell them what you really NEED, but is that going to scare them off? Is that going to ruin the deal?

So then you accept the job, which is much like accepting an engagement, or at least deciding to be exclusive with that one special person.

Much like that, quitting a job can be just like a nasty breakup. Look at my current situation — I’ve been with this job for four years, through ups and downs, through thick and thin, and my resignation will definitely leave them in a bit of a lurch. You then have to have the conversation of “it’s me, not you”, when sometimes you really mean, “it’s completely YOU and not at all ME”.

And, like many breakups, it’s amazing how quickly you can shut a door on a past that took up so much time and effort. You walk away, into the new job, with renewed hope for the future, and increased pressure to really make things work this time around.

The whole process is exhausting.

And I’m so glad I’m not doing the dating thing in real life anymore!

Here is your update on Baby Bellin as of today, which makes me 31 weeks pregnant.

How your baby’s growing: This week, your baby measures about 16 inches long. She weighs a little over 3 pounds and is headed for a growth spurt. She can turn her head from side to side, and she’s beginning to accumulate a layer of fat underneath her skin in preparation for life as a newborn. As a result, her arms, legs, and body are filling out.

How your life’s changing:
Have you noticed the muscles in your uterus tightening now and then? Some women feel these random contractions — called Braxton Hicks contractions — in the second half of pregnancy. Lasting from 30 to 60 seconds, they’re nonrhythmic and irregular and, at this point in your pregnancy, they should be infrequent and not painful. (When you’re within a few weeks of your due date, it’s normal for Braxton Hicks contractions to become more frequent and even somewhat painful; in fact, they’re often called “false labor” because sometimes it can be hard to tell them from the real thing.) Until 37 weeks, though, your baby is still premature. So if you’re getting frequent contractions (even if they don’t hurt), it may be a sign of preterm labor.

Courtesy of BabyCenter.com.

I just picked up the invitations. They turned out really well. I really expected them to mis-spell my name (as 90% of the population does), or to goof up some of the text, considering the experience I had placing the actual order.

But they look great.

The problem? I totally didn’t think there would be so much assembly involved in these things! Oh…. my….gosh. Each invitation is a tri-fold, meaning there are 125 invitations that must be folded. You would think for how much we paid, they could fold the darn things for us! Then, they come with assembly instructions…

Here is what needs to be done:

• Fold 125 invitations

• Fold 125 response cards
• Stuff 125 response cards into their envelopes
• Stamp 125 response card envelopes
• Stuff 125 invitations into the inner envelopes
• Stuff 125 sheets with directions into the inner envelopes
• Place tissue paper on top of the writing of the 125 invitations
• Stuff 125 response cards into the inner envelope
• Stuff 125 inner envelopes into the outer envelopes

Then, of course, they’ll need to be stamped (I’m sure this is going to cost more than 37 cents each) and addressed. Mom has volunteered to do the addressing, but good golly, I had absolutely no idea how complex this project would be!

I’ve had thoughts of bribing the girls at work to help me with this on a lunch hour, but will see how far I can get on our road trip this weekend.

I made a mistake when I put up the previous post that has now been deleted. I may have made the man who is the best thing that has ever happened to me look bad, which wasn’t at all what I intended to do. I took the entire conversation out of context and posted it inappropriately without his consent. And for that I am deeply sorry.

And now I am going to take a brief hiatus from this site, because I honestly don’t even want to think about it anymore. I’ll probably be back sometime next week.

I somehow managed to find my way back to the office today after four days on the ski slopes. On Thursday, I skied Mt. Rose for work in a blinding snow storm. But the powder skiing was incredible. In two hours, I managed to get in eight runs and felt like a powder skiing pro.

On Friday, I skied at Heavenly, also for work. It was a beautiful day with over a foot of fresh powder from the storm on Thursday. Our clients were treated to the best snow of the season, bright blue skies, and breath-taking views of Lake Tahoe. Not a bad way to spend a Friday.

Saturday, JB and I skied at Sierra. In the past week, over 5 feet of snow dumped on the mountains. And it was probably the best snow conditions you’ll see around here. And for some reason, both of us were having a hell of a time getting around in it. The past several days JB and I had skied together, we both felt like we were in a ‘groove’, feeling like we were quite the hot shots. Well, Saturday, and subsequently Sunday, humbled us significantly.

I cannot believe how many times we fell on Saturday and Sunday. It was deep snow, and we just managed to keep tipping over into the powder. Despite the fact that I really thought that I had figured out how to ski in powder on Thursday at Mt. Rose, this stuff seemed entirely different, and I couldn’t seem to ski gracefully through it if my life depended on it.

Falling in powder is fun. You’re usually going slow, and the landing is a nice ‘poof’ as the powder envelopes you. It’s the getting up that sucks, as poles are completely useless because they’ll sink down into the snow up to the handles.

I knew that my brother Chuck and his wife, Audra would be at Sierra, so I was on the lookout for them. I didn’t find them on the slopes, but actually found my other brother, Greg. I must have annoyed the entire lift line as I yelled Greg’s name. He was a mere 20 feet away from me, but it took numerous shouts and help from some people around me to get his attention.

We ended up stumbling into both of my brothers, Audra, and one of Greg’s friends at the bar after skiing. It was fun to have an impromtu happy hour. After that, Chuck and Audra joined JB and I for some take and bake pizza at JB’s house. It was some unexpected, yet enjoyable family time.

We were at Northstar yesterday. We arrived at the resort around 10:30, and passed one sign that said ‘Northstar parking full’. Well, we weren’t going to be deterred by that. We turned into the resort and headed towards the parking. The next sign said ‘We’re not kidding, our parking is full.’ So we kept driving. We then passed a third sign that said ‘Seriously, we’re full.’ And you know what? We got one of THE last parking spaces available, but we got one!!!

The lines at Northstar were pretty crazy until we made our way to Lookout Mountain, an experts only area of the resort. Once we made it there, we didn’t wait in line once. But oh, did our legs get tired. And we never really managed to get our skiing groove back. We just fought our way down every run, tumbling all the way. I am so ready to give my poor legs a break! Hopefully, by next weekend I will have found my skiing mojo again.

So that’s really the report for the weekend. JB was supposed to have a gig in Sparks on Friday, but the lead singer of his band managed to develop appendicitis, so it sounds like the band will be taking a bit of a hiatus. Another storm is making its way through the area, so next weekend promises more great snow conditions.

My nephew, Jack, the lion and his father (my brother), Greg.


My god-daughter, Kylie, in her ghost cap, with her mother (my best friend), Amber.


This is my mother’s dog, Shelby, dressed as a pumpkin. Believe it or not, this was Shelby’s second year being a pumpkin! Is it just me, or does she not look happy to be a pumpkin? Mom, next year, this dog needs to ba a kangaroo due to her jumping capabilities.

I’m FINALLY back online, after over 2 days of no connectivity. I’d like to report that the office move went off without a hitch, but it didn’t…

I came in on Monday to discover that I had been told to label all of my blongings with the WRONG OFFICE NUMBER. Hence, all of my boxes, monitor, computer wires, etc. were all delivered directly to storage. The new offices aren’t finished… Literally… I’m talking the stairs and hallways into our offices are still bare wood and are in the process of being painted, with ‘WET PAINT’ signs glaring angrily at you every way you turn. There is also a piece of paper with a peace sign drawn on it, and I’m not quite sure what that means in the world of construction workers.

So in our offices, we had all kinds of workers who were useless because the servers were down, scores of movers who were tripping over the construction workers that are scrambling to finish the building. We even have some spots where we’re walking on carpet padding instead of carpet. Lovely.

One good thing about the move is my new desk, which once belonged to the former CEO. It’s NICE. I’m talking dark red wood executive type desk. Too bad it had to be paired with some 1970s era chairs.

The fact that my stuff was missing and I couldn’t get online meant that I had almost two full days off from work. On Monday, I called JB to gloat about my ‘rough’ work day, and he suggested I come meet him up at Lake Tahoe by his work. I thought this was a wonderful idea, and packed a picnic of wine, cheese, salami, crackers, sushi, and edamame. I hopped in the Trans Am and enjoyed a fun ride up the mountain as I followed a Porsche. You wouldn’t believe how well people move over to let you pass when there is a Porsche and a Trans Am coming up behing them.

So JB and I met up at the beach right at sunset, and had the beach to ourselves, except for two Canadian Geese that watched us for about ten minutes. We polished off the bottle of wine, and after watching the sunset, we were treated by watching the moon rise. We went for a lovely moonlit walk on the beach *insert romantic sigh here*, and I must say, it was one of the best dates EVER.

On Tuesday, I slept in a bit, headed into the office, then headed back home, and managed to get all kinds of stuff done around the house. I later went for a trail run, where I fell AGAIN, and am now scraped up on my hand and my leg. I think it’s time to go find a track.

As for the weekend, JB and I watched my two year old nephew, Jack, on Friday and Saturday. I must say I think we did a swell job, but neither of us can stop talking like the little tyke. Our conversations now have inserts of ‘uh-ohs’, ‘eeeewwsss’, ‘scary’, etc. It’s actually rather entertaining.

On Sunday, JB and I did a 5k Race for the Cure run. I’m happy to report that I shaved over seven minutes off of my time since April. JB still beat me by five minutes, but cripes, his legs must be at least a foot longer than mine!

So that’s the update. Contrary to popular belief in my family, I haven’t dropped off the face of the earth, I haven’t been kidnapped by JB, and I am not sick. I’m alive and kickin’.

I’m back from another wonderful weekend, where I enjoyed the beautiful Indian Summer weather. I went camping with both of my brothers and their families, a few friends, and my new man (we’ll call him JB).

We were in California, camping at Lake Francis Resort. It’s a pretty little lake, and it was nice and warm.

We were a short drive from Bullard’s Bar Reservoir, where we mountain biked and boated. It’s a beautiful alpine lake surrounded by evergreen trees and with turquoise water. Here’s an arial pic:

Saturday night, it was so warm that JB and I decided to sleep out under the stars, which was so peaceful. I stared up at the stars, reveling in the fact that one year ago, I wouldn’t have been able to see any stars without my glasses. Laser surgery rocks.

After everyone in our group left on Sunday, JB and I swam around in Lake Francis and hung out on the pier. We practically had the lake to ourselves, and it was easy to just relax and let the time slip away. I got back home last night around 10… And woke up this morning a bit groggy and sore, but happy.

It was probably the last camping trip of the year, but it was a good one.

I’ve been playing phone tag a lot lately with my friend Samantha. Samantha and I became close friends while we were both living in the Detroit area. The two of us had grown up in New Mexico, and both happened to end up in Michigan. Our brothers and mothers had been friends, so we had a lot in common.

One of the biggest things we had in common was our dislike for Michigan. We both wanted OUT, and after I had been there four years and she had been there seven, we both plotted our escape routes. Within a few weeks of each other, we moved to the places we had been dreaming of going. I headed to Nevada, and she headed for Virginia Beach, VA.

We haven’t seen each other since, and I really miss her. She bought a condo in Virginia Beach, and I can’t help but think of her this week as hurricane Isabel nears her new home. But you know where Samantha is? Europe. She is a flight attendant, and evidently was sent to work overseas during the hurricane fiasco.

I feel really bad for her being in a foreign country, wondering what will become of her new place. I don’t even think she had a chance to board up the windows.

I just read this quote in an article:

In the coastal resort of Virginia Beach, the police chief urged those staying behind to write their names on their forearms so authorities could identify their bodies and notify their next of kin.

Now, that is serious.

Isabel, please be nice to Samantha. And Samantha, I hate to say ‘I told you so’, but Nevadans don’t have to worry about hurricanes.

In honor of the two year anniversary of September 11, I post what I wrote on the six month anniversary of the event.

I was working in downtown Detroit, on the 23rd floor of the GM World Headquarters. I had organized some disability training for GM’s HR managers, and during our first break, my friend David said ‘A plane has hit the World Trade Center’. Although everyone was talking about it, we all thought it was an accident, so we continued on with the training.

On our second break, we heard that the second tower had been hit. That’s when the fire alarm started going off, and the building security stated over the intercom that anyone who did not feel secure was free to leave.

A few minutes later, the same voice came over the loud speaker, stating that terrorists had hijacked planes and ran them into the Pentagon and the World Trade Center. He then said that there were still four planes unaccounted for, and they were assumed to be heading West, targeting large buildings.

Now that was scary. I was in the largest building in downtown Detroit. Not only that, but I was 23 floors up.

Hence, the training was cancelled.

So I left. There was a traffic jam getting out of my parking garage and heading towards the freeway. I couldn’t help but think that if a plane hit the GM World Headquarters, all of us stuck in the traffic jam would probably be killed by the falling building.

Our staff had actually planned an off-site meeting that day at a park, so I headed to the park. It was a beautiful day, but needless to say, we ended that early, with our managers telling us to go home to our families.

I think that September 11 is my generation’s defining event, like the assassination of JFK and Pearl Harbor were to our parents and grandparents. This will be the event that we remember sadly, and will always remember where we were when we heard the news.

May God be with our troops as they fight to protect us from terrorists.

It was just days after September 11 that I accepted a job in Reno and decided to change my life forever. As much as I miss working for General Motors, I love my new life, and wouldn’t change it for anything.

***Update***
I received this in e-mail yesterday from Karen and thought it was a great write up. Enjoy!

This is a comment I was going to post to your 9/11 entry. It wound up pretty big so I moved it to this email. So much happened that day that should be remembered. This is just my perspective. It was way too close to home.

Take care,

Karen

It is so interesting to hear what happened throughout the United States as the news of this tragedy was reported. Other big cities closed up to avoid the worst. While it seemed like it happened far away to the towns out in the middle of no where. At least those are the perspectives I have heard.

Here in Northern Virginia things were crazy. (Though I am sure not near as crazy as NYC.)

My morning commute to work was awful; worse than normal traffic. Little did I know it would be horrendous less than 2 hours later. The traffic stopped me on an over pass where there is an awesome view of Dulles airport. I remember thinking wouldn’t it be nice to take a flight somewhere away from this crazy traffic and work. Not that I was getting on a plane nine months pregnant, but the thought was nicely distracting.

The planes crashed into the Trade Center buildings and the Pentagon after I had arrived at work. I came out of my office to get some water after no success of getting an outside line to make a callback to troubleshoot an issue. I heard someone mention the World Trade Center was bombed. When I returned to my desk my friend instant messaged me about the first tower and sent me a web link where I wound up watching a streaming video the second tower attack. When the Pentagon was hit we all had trouble believing it. Seemed like some sort of sick joke to further scare people; as if the Trade Center attack wasn’t enough. When we started hearing the commuters on the radio stations calling in to describe what they had seen it was then the report of the attack on the Pentagon became more believable. I can’t imagine viewing that on my way to work and to comprehend what I watched happen to those poor people. I mean what a terrible person I was for complaining about just having to sit in bad traffic on my way in to work just hours before. At least I don’t have the memory of this traumatic attack to remember for the rest of my life.

Then another hijacked plane went down in Pennsylvania.

My boss was learning to pilot and was on one of her first solo flights when the Air Traffic Control ordered all planes to land. After she left the airport, she was able to call me quickly from her cell to tell me to make sure everyone went home and that she would not be in.

Shortly after this call, AOL sent everyone home since many families in this area had loved ones working at the pentagon and for the airlines. I work just down the street from Lockheed Martin. As I crept passed it on my drive home the reality of the situation really hit me. The guards were heavily armed with large rifles and they have been there since.

All I could think on the drive home was how my friends were and how could I raise a child in a world like this. Many of my friends had relatives at the Pentagon or for fire and rescue. One of the dads from my birthing class was a paramedic. Across the television screen for the rest of the day was a call for all rescue workers to report to work. He dutifully left his wife and two week old baby to tend to those who needed aid. He was able to return to his family about 3 days later. I worried about him every time that message flashed on the television.

My friend’s dad was working just a section away from where the plane hit. The newly renovated area where the plane collided was slated to be his group’s new office area when it was completed and was scheduled to be ready for them to move in the next 2 weeks.

The phone lines were so busy we were told not to make phone calls so that family members of the pentagon workers and flight passengers could locate their loved ones. Due to traffic, Paul was stuck at work off of I495 until the late evening. I knew he was ok but it was hard not having the ability to talk with him.

That day, I worried and mourned, like many others, for all of the loss of life and the people involved. I thank God that my family wasn’t involved first hand in this tragedy. I also give thanks that the people I knew and their families were all safe. It goes without saying; I will not forget what other families went through who were involved with this attack on September 1, 2001. It is amazing how so much changed in such a brief amount of time.

Thanks, Karen!

I swear, I keep hearing Overkill by Men at Work multiple times a day. And it kind of describes how I’m feeling lately.

This song was featured in an episode of Scrubs, where the singer of this song kept following around the main character, Zach. It’s pretty ironic, because I also feel like I’m being followed around by this song that was popular in the 80s. Weird.

Overkill, by Men at Work

I can’t get to sleep
I think about the implications
Of diving in too deep
And possibly the complications

Especially at night
I worry over situations
I know will be alright
Perahaps its just my imagination

Day after day it reappears
Night after night my heartbeat, shows the fear
Ghosts appear and fade away

Alone between the sheets
Only brings exasperation
It’s time to walk the streets
Smell the desperation

At least there’s pretty lights
And though there’s little variation
It nullifies the night
From overkill

Day after day it reappears
Night after night my heartbeat, shows the fear
Ghosts appear and fade away

I can’t get to sleep
I think about the implications
Of diving in too deep
And possibly the complications

Especially at night
I worry over situations
I know will be alright
It’s just overkill

Day after day it reappears
Night after night my heartbeat, shows the fear
Ghosts appear and fade away

My hair is freshly highlighted and trimmed and the eyebrows are waxed.

My new black dress is hanging in the closet.

Self-tanner has bronzed my skin.

I’ve dropped 22 pounds.

Ready or not, here I come.

Saturday is the big day — the 10 year high school reunion. I dug out the old high school yearbook last night to try to put faces to names again. Man, did I have big early 90s hair. Mom had convinced me to get a perm for my already naturally curly hair. My hair exceeds the boundaries of the actual yearbook photo. (The picture was taken slightly after I had gone to visit my grandparents, and the first thing grandpa said was ‘That sure is a lot of hair’.)

In the yearbook, I keep a letter that one of my teachers had us write right before graduation. The assignment was to write a letter to yourself 5 years in the future. That teacher then mailed the letter 5 years later. My letter depicts my anger at my prom date for not calling after the dance, how I enjoyed my group of friends, my love for my Camaro, and the hopes for owning a Corvette in the future. I had hoped to have received a Bachelor’s degree, and to be going to the bars and having a lot of fun.

I don’t think I let my 17 year-old self down. Starting at 18, I hung out at a lot of bars. I sold the Camaro after college, but then acquired the Trans Am a few years later. I managed to get two degrees instead of one. Not bad.

I only wish that I could now sit down and write back to my 17 year-old self. I have all kinds of advice for her.

Study hard your first semester in college so that you don’t lose that scholarship. Consider a college out of state. Do an exchange program to France. Major in something you love, not what your family expects you to study. Don’t get too wrapped up in the guy from Buffalo — long distance relationships never work. Those guys you’ll date in college — a few of them could be keepers. Don’t move to Michigan — it’s cold as hell there.

Oh well. I guess it’s too late now. It’s not that I’m NOT happy with the way things turned out. I could have just avoided a lot of heartache, and could possibly enjoy my career a bit more.

I consider myself an organized person. I manage to juggle numerous projects at once, and balance my personal life with my work life. However, I seem to have a deficiency when it comes to organizing paper. Electronically, I organize exceptionally well.

Perhaps this is a symptom of me spending at least nine hours a day on the computer, but if you walk into my office right now, you’d see that it looks like a tornado swept through it. At least on my desk surface. And on top of my laptop. And on the chairs in my office. Ugh.

I try so hard. At least once a week, I’ll take the piles of paper and neatly stack them. This only serves to prevent me from finding specific pieces of paper when I really need them. And the stacks only remain intact for a few hours.

I’ve been told that people judge you professionally by how well you keep your office. Perhaps they should judge me based on the appearance of chaos in my office. I mean really, if I can manage to get all of my projects done on time in the midst of all this, I’m really a stellar person, right?

It’s the same thing at home. It is my goal to completely eliminate snail mail in my mail box. I’ll get the house picked up, and within a few days, we have newspapers, bills, and junk mail littering the kitchen counter and table. I haven’t used the kitchen table since Easter Sunday, and that is primarily because it is the temporary sorting place for papers, junk and important.

A few weeks ago, I broke our shredder trying to make a dent in all of that mess. Really, I prefer e-mails, online bill pay, and online account access.

Now [The Man Now Known as The Ex], on the other hand, prefers paper. He even has a phobia of using credit cards. We could not be more polar opposite in that way. His method of organizing is to create multiple stacks of paper all across our study. The day he moved in with me, we went out and bought a filing cabinet and the now defunct shredder. However, he has yet to use that filing cabinet. Our extra bedroom is victem to [The Man Now Known as The Ex]‘s strange method of organization. There are stacks littering the bed, the chest, the filing cabinet (how ironic), and then huge stacks in two of his brief cases.

He does have files. I created them for him because his stacks were driving me mad. I guess I can’t complain too much, though, because I don’t have much room to talk if you take a look at my office.

I wish I didn’t kill so many trees.

I had the ideal winter day on Saturday. It started with skiing at Kirkwood from 10-3:30 (no stopping for lunch). There was fresh snow to be had, and the sun broke through around noon and gave us a glorious day. We spent a lot of time exporing new trails through the trees.

After we left Kirkwood, we stopped at Cattlemen’s for dinner. One prime rib later, I was full, sleepy, and happy.

We went back to my brother’s place where we then christened his fiance’s hot tub.

Ahhhhh…… Perfection. If only every day could be like that and I didn’t have to sit in front of a computer 5 days a week!

To make the weekend even better, I went mountain biking with the pooch on Sunday, fully taking advantage of the summer and winter sports available at the same time around here.

I’m planning a sequel to this day…. The perfect Spring day will include initiating my brand new kayak on the crystal blue waters of Lake Tahoe with the pooch swimming happily along side.

So evidently, when you tell a man that you don’t want flowers on Valentine’s Day, he’ll take that to mean you don’t want anything at all.

I spent yesterday afternoon with my nephew and my pooch on the beach of Lake Tahoe. It was unusually warm, and we sat in the sand, threw the ball for the dog, tossed rocks in the water, and let Tucker swim around. It was extra enjoyable because we pretty much had the beach to ourselves. What a rare opportunity to have a warm day on the beach at Lake Tahoe in January!

There was a slight fog over the lake, which made the reflections of the snow capped mountains and evergreen trees extra sharp on the smoothe as glass waters of Lake Tahoe. It was breath-taking.

On Saturday, I went snow shoeing with [The Man Now Known as The Ex], my brother, and our dog, as well as my brother’s dog. It was so warm I was just wearing a t-shirt, and the pups had a wonderful time romping in the snow. Afterwards, we hot-tubbed at my brother’s house, which was just what the doctor ordered!

I discovered this weekend that my body has really adjusted to the Body For Life program. You get a day each week to eat whatever you like, and on Friday, I had pizza and a brownie for dinner. Oh my, did my body not like that! On Saturday, I didn’t get to eat every two hours, as the program dictates. I was starving!!! I’m glad to be back to work (kinda) so that I can really get back into my routine. I started week 5 today!

This spammer actually got my attention because they started off saying that the Chamber of Commerce said for them to contact me. Well, working for a Convention and Visitor’s Bureau, I interact with the Chamber of Commerce regularly. I doubt they’d have any involvement in this:

Your contact was availed to me by the chamber of
commerce. It was given to me because of my diplomatic
status as I did not disclose the actual reasons for
which I sought your contact. But I was
assured That you are reputable and trustworthy if you
will be of assistance.
I am Laurent Mpeti Kabila (Jnr) the second son of
Late President LAURENT DESIRE KABILA the immediate
Past president of the DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC OF CONGO in
Africa who was murdered by his opposition through his
personal bodyguards in his bedroom on Tuesday 16th January, 2001. I have the privilege of being mandated by my father colleagues to seek your immediate and urgent co-operation to receive into your bank account the sum of US $10,000,000(ten million Dollars) and some thousands carats of Diamond.

Buddy, I’d love to receive $10M and thousands of carats of diamonds, but we American’s get that kind of cash through the lottery, not from freaks from Africa!

I went to a business function last night held by a group walled WeAct. It was an amazing event. There were at least 80 professional women there, and the event was all set up for networking. After being laid off twice in one year, I’ve vowed to become more networked so that I’ll be more prepared if it happens to me again.

Anyways, at the start of this event, you had 10 minutes to collect as many business cards from the other women as you could. Unfortunately, I only brought 10 business cards, so I felt like a loser after I had run out of cards. I got at least 15 cards. We’re now supposed to pick four cards and meet up with those women to see ‘what we can do for eachother’ professionally. It’s a cool concept. After looking at all of my cards last night, I was disappointed to find that there weren’t many Marketing/Internet types like myself.

So many of the women were really inspirational. They were professional, they were outgoing, and really happy to be there. I think it will be a good gig for me for the future.

I’m off to New Mexico this afternoon to throw a baby shower for my best friend, Amber, tomorrow. It’s still so weird to think that my former bar buddy and guy scamming pal has a bun in the oven. Oh, the stories I could tell to her daughter one day!

I was randomly Googling people from my past, and ran across an article about my first boyfriend in high school, Elvis Terry. He used to write me the sweetest love poems, but I didn’t appreciate them because I focused on his not-so-perfect grammar. Funny thing is that he’s now an English teacher! I broke up with him for some stupid reason. Then, when I changed my mind a few years later, he wouldn’t give me the time of day. I really don’t blame him. Anyway, here’s a pic of my old beau. Damn, he got hot! I swear he looks like a model in that pic!

Well, I signed up for this new software to manage my Blog. It’s called MoveableType. I’m still trying to figure it out, so please be patient! In the mean time, you can read my old blog archives here.

[The Man Now Known as The Ex] and I went skiing at Squaw Valley on Saturday. It was awesome! The views of Lake Tahoe were incredible, and the snow was pretty good. We have spring skiing conditions since it has been so warm this week. On Sunday, I cruised around in the Trans Am with the windows down, and had to laugh at the memory of what the weather is like in Michigan in January. Ha!

In other news, thanks to Jesse for providing entertainment through this link. Go ahead and try the game — catch Michael Jackson’s baby!!!