Last week was a big step in our relationship.
For years, Kristen and I have been fighting the urge to be common folk. Going against everyone else's desire and their tenacity to be so informed with what's going on. As if it's SO IMPORTANT to have to know the second something happens with the stock market, Lindsay Lohan or the score of the big game (there's always a big game, so icksnay that). In any case, we've been going against the grain.
Until now...
Ladies and Gentlemen, I'd like to introduce you to Kristen Cumming AND Brian Bachman...
New Owners Of...
The iPhone 4. (Thank you...thank you...you're too kind...I'd like to thank the Academy for making this possible, I'd like to thank God for all His hard work in this area, and I'd like to thank...what honey? No, that's not important. Alright, I'll tell them).
We're technically NOT (using air quotes) complete owners of the iPhone 4.
About eight days ago, or as Kristen would tell you, 8 days, 2 hours and 17 minutes ago, we bought the iPhone 4.
Except for the fact that nearly everyone older than the age of seven, bought the iPhone 4 the week it came out (something like 221 million people, give or take). Apple is still making the phones, yet they, along with AT&T, have no problem taking our money, while we wait for them to make more. When we asked how long it'll take for them to come in, the AT&T guy told us...
"It'll only take a week to get here. We get shipments all the time. I haven't seen it take longer than a week."
About two seconds after we walk out of the store after purchasing our new BFF's, I MEAN, our new phones, (which neither of us will obsess over at all, we will continue to stare lovingly into each other's eyes at restaurants, while everyone else sits next to each other glued face down into their phones), Kristen hops up and down..."WE'RE GETTING IPHONES...WE'RE GETTING IPHONES." Remember that eye staring...loving...we're the only ones that matter to each other thing I was just telling you about...I think every time Kristen hopped, society was slapping common sense into me.
They told us they'd call and email when our bad boys are coming to a new home.
We're not going to take faith in that.
Monday, Kristen calls them, still haven't shipped.
Tuesday, Kristen calls, still haven't shipped.
Wednesday, Kristen picks up the phone, and places a phone call to AT&T. At this point, our guy could probably recognize Kristen's voice, and the two are getting so comfortable, it wouldn't surprise me if he asked how Tucker was doing. Guess what??? Still haven't shipped.
Thursday, Kristen, AT&T...hi, have we met before...Survey Says...(buzzer sounding) STILL HAVEN'T SHIPPED.
Friday,
Kristen: "Honey, can you please call them and ask about our iPhones? They're onto me, and I think they're getting annoyed."
Me: "Sure, love of my life, sweet angel, dream of my dreams. Anything for you." (I talk like that to her all the time)
Pinocchio: "Hey, I want my nose back?"
AT&T: "This is AT&T, how can we tell you in so many ways we don't have a new shipment of iPhones in?"
Me: "Well, let's find out. Do you have our new iPhones in yet?"
Them: "Let me check...(puts phone call on hold)...Hey, Roger, can you believe these idiots? (laughing) Don't they know one week, really means October? Which excuse do you want me to use on these saps? (picks excuse out of hat) It gave me, dog ate your iPhone package? (picks up phone). Sorry, Sir, they still haven't shipped?"
Me: "Can you tell me if UPS and FedEx have arrived today? Oh, they haven't, can you tell me..."
Them: (Interrupting) "We'll call you and email you when they arrive."
You think that's going to deter us?
Two hours later...
Kristen calls, because the packages haven't arrived today. No movement.
Today, phone call to AT&T + our hopes of becoming technologically relevant = no iPhone.
So, that's where we're at.
Kristen couldn't be more excited. She'll have everything at her fingertip. Facebook, the constant updates (the whole thing confuses me), her email, her gossip sites (or at least I assume, she always knows everything happening, well before me). This is the beginning of a Kristen I'm a little frightened to witness; if her constant Verizon bill showing her AT&T calls is proof. But, I know she'll rock an iPhone like no other. In a couple hours, she'll have gone over, around and through the complexities that is a new device. She'll be spinning sites faster than a nine year old texting her BFF's, all the while Kristen will flash a gang sign as she passes them, yelling "BAM!!!"
For me, I've never had Internet on a phone. Probably because I'm worried that it would be so complicated to me, I'd have trouble getting off the main Internet page that would eventually flash, "Please move forward, there's so much more to see."
As I go all day without my email, I'm content. Anything that happens, I'll hear about eventually. But, when I do sit down in front of a computer, I could spend hours on fantasy baseball, Dave Matthews sites or reading anything and everything. The power of "If you put it in front of me, it must be good." Getting an iPhone won't clutter my everyday existence. Yeah right.
Did I tell you, I love iTunes, and my iPod? There's so much I could do with this new phone, but I'll take it slow...no I won't. I'll baby step my way into your world. The iPhone world; think again.
I'll have to, because unless I hire one of the seven year olds to show me how to use the thing, for the first month, all I'll be able to do is dial out. But, at least I'll keep trying.
Here we come world...watch out!
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Monday, July 19, 2010
A New Chapter
So, I'm going back to work today. I haven't been there in a week and a half. In my life, this is the longest I've ever been out of work, sick. Nine days ago, I injured my back and had to go to the Emergency Room, and was "couch ridden" for five straight days. Didn't do much, other than flip the channels on the remote control, take painkillers, play on the computer, and heat my back.
I learned some things about myself over the past week and a half...
1) You think you'd enjoy a lot of time off from work. Not so much. No human interaction during the day makes it lonely at times. Tucker and I became best friends.
2) It's possible to actually beat the Internet. Sometime last Wednesday afternoon, I was scrolling through some websites, and a message came up that said, "Congratulations Brian, you've now reached the end of the Internet. Please go outside and enjoy the sunshine, you lazy piece of $%$@$".
3) I learned the Internet has a potty mouth.
4) I finished two books.
5) It could have been more if I didn't sleep 22 hours in a 28 hour period.
6) Painkillers make you sleepy.
7) And spaced out. I didn't drive for the first five days, because as the Doctor said, "Don't drive while you're on this (particular) painkiller (which I'm now off of), you'll get arrested for a DUI."
8) Who knew that doctors prescribed vodka and codeine as a prescription drug? That's weird.
9) Most importantly, I didn't realize how much I would miss exercising. I miss running on the treadmill, and yes, I miss you too, Tony from P90X. I'm not sure when I'm getting back to you, because you really emphasize the back in certain stretches, but I'd love to get back to a treadmill in due time. Slowly, walking. Then, maybe a mile one day. If all goes well, two miles another day. Do I need to pick a fight with my brother, just so my parents can threaten to take me back to the YMCA, again? I'll do it, if that's what it takes.
All in all, I'm glad to go back to work, today. Light duty for the time being, until my back gets closer to 100%. Hey, I'm just happy I can touch my knees again.
I learned some things about myself over the past week and a half...
1) You think you'd enjoy a lot of time off from work. Not so much. No human interaction during the day makes it lonely at times. Tucker and I became best friends.
2) It's possible to actually beat the Internet. Sometime last Wednesday afternoon, I was scrolling through some websites, and a message came up that said, "Congratulations Brian, you've now reached the end of the Internet. Please go outside and enjoy the sunshine, you lazy piece of $%$@$".
3) I learned the Internet has a potty mouth.
4) I finished two books.
5) It could have been more if I didn't sleep 22 hours in a 28 hour period.
6) Painkillers make you sleepy.
7) And spaced out. I didn't drive for the first five days, because as the Doctor said, "Don't drive while you're on this (particular) painkiller (which I'm now off of), you'll get arrested for a DUI."
8) Who knew that doctors prescribed vodka and codeine as a prescription drug? That's weird.
9) Most importantly, I didn't realize how much I would miss exercising. I miss running on the treadmill, and yes, I miss you too, Tony from P90X. I'm not sure when I'm getting back to you, because you really emphasize the back in certain stretches, but I'd love to get back to a treadmill in due time. Slowly, walking. Then, maybe a mile one day. If all goes well, two miles another day. Do I need to pick a fight with my brother, just so my parents can threaten to take me back to the YMCA, again? I'll do it, if that's what it takes.
All in all, I'm glad to go back to work, today. Light duty for the time being, until my back gets closer to 100%. Hey, I'm just happy I can touch my knees again.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Be Careful What You Wish For
Two and a half weeks ago, I made a commitment to myself to get in shape. At that time, we were T-minus 17 weeks until the wedding, and I wanted to lose some weight by..
a) Stop drinking beer
b) Eating healthier
c) Exercising
And that last one, I took very seriously. As I've mentioned before, Kristen and I started P90X, and let me tell you, that's a workout. You work your arms, legs, hips, back, even your tongue...for every time I yelled at Tony, "How About You Show Us What You're Going To Do Before You Do It Tony", or "My Body Doesn't Twist That Way TONY!!!", or the most popular, "I HATE YOU TONY!!!!!".
On some days, I would combine P90X with my running program. I joined the YMCA, mostly because if you want to run outside after 8am, you can actually hear your skin sizzle in the heat. Since I'm not a fan of a skin fillet, I became a Y person, and I love it.
I remember the days when I was younger and my older brother Kevin, would smooth out the kinks in the floor boards by using my head as his tool. My Grandma would call my mom saying something to the effect of, "Kevin's beating up on Brian again, Oh, he just broke his glasses again, Oh, now Brian's scratching him, again" (when you're three years younger, and slower, and fatter, you use whatever kind of leverage God gave you). My Mom would call us from work, crying, (we couldn't understand what she was saying underneath her sobs and our continued grappling) and the inevitable call from my Dad three minutes later, "You Boys Stop Fighting Right Now Or You're Going Back To The Y" (the Y at that time was a sweatshop of kids not playing, or having any fun activities whatsoever, and I believe at one time, they made us clean the kitchen).
The Y now is much different. I love it; probably because they don't force me to clean the kitchens anymore.
So, why am I telling you all this?
I've temporarily stopped P90-ing as well as running, and it's killing me. After two weeks, I finally felt thinner, and I was losing weight. And then, the irony of ironies came into my life.
The Chiropractor.
I've been shooting tv news for 10 years now, and I carry a lot of equipment and use my right shoulder as a "camera pad", while shooting sports, interviews, etc. Well, you can guess what my shoulders/neck/back looks like. It's not pretty, but it's mine, and I'm proud of them.
However, X-rays and other technological instruments would tell you differently. And that's why we hate those instruments. They tell us things of reality, while I enjoy living in quasi-reality. Tell me just enough to not change my perception, that's all I need out of life.
Last Wednesday, I went into the chiro for a meet and greet. He flipped me over onto my stomach, as if I was his personal pancake, so he could poke around my back. That lasted one minute. He's pushing on my back near my neck, shoulders, all over my back. It was a hit and run. The only thing we didn't have was a chalk outline of my body on that table.
An hour later, no joke, my lower back started hurting me. Mind you, earlier when I mentioned to them I had severe lower back pain two years ago, they admitted that they can't look at that area, because a spinal scan doesn't go down the spine that far, AND they admitted that any pushing on a certain part of the back could exacerbate that area. Guess what happened? Ding...Ding...DING....you exacerbated the area.
Next day, back hurt worse, but I got through. Two days later, back more stiff, more hurt. Three days later, back much better. Great...exacerbation over!
I started running again. It was three days since my last run, and I needed it. Started out real well. Running on a treadmill = Hamster on a wheel. Keep running, never going anywhere, death stare on the time, and distance in front of you. One foot after another after another after another...
I ran three miles, wanted another, but I felt my back hurting a bit more. I do the smart thing, and stop.
Wobble into the locker room...I can't touch my knees. I can't bend over. Try to stretch it out. Exacerbation!
Slowly walk to my car, flop in, that's the easy part. Anyone show you how to flop out of a car. It doesn't happen. With ten half inch moves, I slowly get out of the car by almost rolling my stomach onto the ground, and wobble my way into Kristen's apartment.
Kristen: "How was the gym?"
Me: "OK"
Kristen: "What's wrong?"
Me: "I hurt my back."
Kristen: "I'm so sorry honey, can I get you anything?"
Me: (slowly climbing upstairs) "Yeah, a new back."
I shower slowly, change, go back downstairs, do the smart thing, ice, medicine, drink, more ice, more medicine, and after five hours, time to go to bed. I can't move. Back completely locked up. Kristen wants me to go upstairs. Heck, my goal is to get up off the couch. Upstairs would have been me climbing Everest at that point. All I needed was a sherpa to help me find my way. The couch was my quicksand. I'm rolling off the couch, but haven't figured out when I hit the floor, how am I going to get off the floor? Uh oh, bigger problem. It took me five minutes to get off the couch and reach the stairs ten feet away. You know how I got up? Kristen lifted me up. If Kristen wasn't in my life, I'd still be on the couch.
Kristen: "I think we should call your Mom"
Me: "I don't want to worry her."
Kristen: "I think we should go to the emergency room."
Me: "I can't afford the ER"
Kristen: "Honey, you might not be able to get out of bed tomorrow. I think we need to go to the ER."
Me: (still in slow motion trying to move my feet towards the stairs the way our older, no let's say "Seasoned Generation" moves into the Rec Room for Bingo Night): "You're probably right. Let's go."
Spent three hours in the emergency room. They gave me painkillers (didn't work). Got three more bottles of painkillers from the 24 hour pharmacy. I thought I'd be good to go. Probably get one day off from work, and I'll be back.
Yeah, that didn't happen.
Called out of work on Monday. I can hear my Dad right now, 1500 miles away, "Unless you're in the hospital, you go to work. Now, stop writing your blog, and GET BACK TO WORK!"
I'm taking 10-12 pills of painkillers each day. You know what that does to you, besides take the edge off...puts you to sleep. In a 28 hour span, I slept 22 hours. When I work morning show, I don't get 22 hours of sleep in a week. I was the Bear hibernating in it's cave on Sunday. Poor Kristen. She could have moved the furniture around in the living room, with me laying on the couch, and I wouldn't have stirred. She could have lit fireworks in the house. Nothing. But, if she changed the channel...
Me: "(waking up as fast as humanly possible) "WHAT'S Going On? I was watching that."
Went to the orthopedist. He told me I had some inflammation in the back...you think. Gave me more painkillers. Good thing I don't get addicted to those things, because man, do they knock your socks off. Half my days, I'm a walking zombie. I went four days without driving my car, probably because everyone, including the mailboxes would have become a hood ornament on my Honda.
So, we're at Day Five now of "Couch Hibernation". And let me tell you...I thought it would have been great. Newsflash: It's not. I'd love to go back to work (if I could only bend down and touch my knees), I'd love to see people out in the world (yes, even those who constantly cut me off on I-4), and I'd love to be able to sit upright for more than half my day (so my legs don't have complete atrophy when this is over).
I've run out of tv shows to watch, I've finished a book, I've had the couch file a restraining order against me (we're working on a plea deal so it doesn't go to court, my lawyer tells me it's 50-50).
Anyone have any ideas how I can stay entertained during the day? The painkillers are working slowly (I am getting better though), but my boredom is on a Mach Three right now, gaining steam as the days drag on.
Again, I thought I would enjoy this. Not so much. Thankfully, I'm not seriously injured, but like I said, "Be Careful What You Wish For".
And for the record, I've halted P90 (no Mom, this wasn't caused by P90, I haven't P90'd two days before the Hit and Run), but not running, hurts my insides. I miss my Hamster Wheel.
a) Stop drinking beer
b) Eating healthier
c) Exercising
And that last one, I took very seriously. As I've mentioned before, Kristen and I started P90X, and let me tell you, that's a workout. You work your arms, legs, hips, back, even your tongue...for every time I yelled at Tony, "How About You Show Us What You're Going To Do Before You Do It Tony", or "My Body Doesn't Twist That Way TONY!!!", or the most popular, "I HATE YOU TONY!!!!!".
On some days, I would combine P90X with my running program. I joined the YMCA, mostly because if you want to run outside after 8am, you can actually hear your skin sizzle in the heat. Since I'm not a fan of a skin fillet, I became a Y person, and I love it.
I remember the days when I was younger and my older brother Kevin, would smooth out the kinks in the floor boards by using my head as his tool. My Grandma would call my mom saying something to the effect of, "Kevin's beating up on Brian again, Oh, he just broke his glasses again, Oh, now Brian's scratching him, again" (when you're three years younger, and slower, and fatter, you use whatever kind of leverage God gave you). My Mom would call us from work, crying, (we couldn't understand what she was saying underneath her sobs and our continued grappling) and the inevitable call from my Dad three minutes later, "You Boys Stop Fighting Right Now Or You're Going Back To The Y" (the Y at that time was a sweatshop of kids not playing, or having any fun activities whatsoever, and I believe at one time, they made us clean the kitchen).
The Y now is much different. I love it; probably because they don't force me to clean the kitchens anymore.
So, why am I telling you all this?
I've temporarily stopped P90-ing as well as running, and it's killing me. After two weeks, I finally felt thinner, and I was losing weight. And then, the irony of ironies came into my life.
The Chiropractor.
I've been shooting tv news for 10 years now, and I carry a lot of equipment and use my right shoulder as a "camera pad", while shooting sports, interviews, etc. Well, you can guess what my shoulders/neck/back looks like. It's not pretty, but it's mine, and I'm proud of them.
However, X-rays and other technological instruments would tell you differently. And that's why we hate those instruments. They tell us things of reality, while I enjoy living in quasi-reality. Tell me just enough to not change my perception, that's all I need out of life.
Last Wednesday, I went into the chiro for a meet and greet. He flipped me over onto my stomach, as if I was his personal pancake, so he could poke around my back. That lasted one minute. He's pushing on my back near my neck, shoulders, all over my back. It was a hit and run. The only thing we didn't have was a chalk outline of my body on that table.
An hour later, no joke, my lower back started hurting me. Mind you, earlier when I mentioned to them I had severe lower back pain two years ago, they admitted that they can't look at that area, because a spinal scan doesn't go down the spine that far, AND they admitted that any pushing on a certain part of the back could exacerbate that area. Guess what happened? Ding...Ding...DING....you exacerbated the area.
Next day, back hurt worse, but I got through. Two days later, back more stiff, more hurt. Three days later, back much better. Great...exacerbation over!
I started running again. It was three days since my last run, and I needed it. Started out real well. Running on a treadmill = Hamster on a wheel. Keep running, never going anywhere, death stare on the time, and distance in front of you. One foot after another after another after another...
I ran three miles, wanted another, but I felt my back hurting a bit more. I do the smart thing, and stop.
Wobble into the locker room...I can't touch my knees. I can't bend over. Try to stretch it out. Exacerbation!
Slowly walk to my car, flop in, that's the easy part. Anyone show you how to flop out of a car. It doesn't happen. With ten half inch moves, I slowly get out of the car by almost rolling my stomach onto the ground, and wobble my way into Kristen's apartment.
Kristen: "How was the gym?"
Me: "OK"
Kristen: "What's wrong?"
Me: "I hurt my back."
Kristen: "I'm so sorry honey, can I get you anything?"
Me: (slowly climbing upstairs) "Yeah, a new back."
I shower slowly, change, go back downstairs, do the smart thing, ice, medicine, drink, more ice, more medicine, and after five hours, time to go to bed. I can't move. Back completely locked up. Kristen wants me to go upstairs. Heck, my goal is to get up off the couch. Upstairs would have been me climbing Everest at that point. All I needed was a sherpa to help me find my way. The couch was my quicksand. I'm rolling off the couch, but haven't figured out when I hit the floor, how am I going to get off the floor? Uh oh, bigger problem. It took me five minutes to get off the couch and reach the stairs ten feet away. You know how I got up? Kristen lifted me up. If Kristen wasn't in my life, I'd still be on the couch.
Kristen: "I think we should call your Mom"
Me: "I don't want to worry her."
Kristen: "I think we should go to the emergency room."
Me: "I can't afford the ER"
Kristen: "Honey, you might not be able to get out of bed tomorrow. I think we need to go to the ER."
Me: (still in slow motion trying to move my feet towards the stairs the way our older, no let's say "Seasoned Generation" moves into the Rec Room for Bingo Night): "You're probably right. Let's go."
Spent three hours in the emergency room. They gave me painkillers (didn't work). Got three more bottles of painkillers from the 24 hour pharmacy. I thought I'd be good to go. Probably get one day off from work, and I'll be back.
Yeah, that didn't happen.
Called out of work on Monday. I can hear my Dad right now, 1500 miles away, "Unless you're in the hospital, you go to work. Now, stop writing your blog, and GET BACK TO WORK!"
I'm taking 10-12 pills of painkillers each day. You know what that does to you, besides take the edge off...puts you to sleep. In a 28 hour span, I slept 22 hours. When I work morning show, I don't get 22 hours of sleep in a week. I was the Bear hibernating in it's cave on Sunday. Poor Kristen. She could have moved the furniture around in the living room, with me laying on the couch, and I wouldn't have stirred. She could have lit fireworks in the house. Nothing. But, if she changed the channel...
Me: "(waking up as fast as humanly possible) "WHAT'S Going On? I was watching that."
Went to the orthopedist. He told me I had some inflammation in the back...you think. Gave me more painkillers. Good thing I don't get addicted to those things, because man, do they knock your socks off. Half my days, I'm a walking zombie. I went four days without driving my car, probably because everyone, including the mailboxes would have become a hood ornament on my Honda.
So, we're at Day Five now of "Couch Hibernation". And let me tell you...I thought it would have been great. Newsflash: It's not. I'd love to go back to work (if I could only bend down and touch my knees), I'd love to see people out in the world (yes, even those who constantly cut me off on I-4), and I'd love to be able to sit upright for more than half my day (so my legs don't have complete atrophy when this is over).
I've run out of tv shows to watch, I've finished a book, I've had the couch file a restraining order against me (we're working on a plea deal so it doesn't go to court, my lawyer tells me it's 50-50).
Anyone have any ideas how I can stay entertained during the day? The painkillers are working slowly (I am getting better though), but my boredom is on a Mach Three right now, gaining steam as the days drag on.
Again, I thought I would enjoy this. Not so much. Thankfully, I'm not seriously injured, but like I said, "Be Careful What You Wish For".
And for the record, I've halted P90 (no Mom, this wasn't caused by P90, I haven't P90'd two days before the Hit and Run), but not running, hurts my insides. I miss my Hamster Wheel.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
My limbs still work
Well...it's been two days since I started P90X.
I'd like to say off the bat, having Kristen P90X with me, is a huge help. Nothing like her being much better at the aerobics steps than me. Many times I have felt I had two right feet. I looked down and was amazed I didn't.
Starting off the first day, I knew I was in trouble when I was winded during the opening stretching routine. Uh oh! And I run about 10-12 miles a week, yet P90X stretching...Whoa! Let's face it, I can't touch my feet when I'm leaning over, stretching. Can't do it. I'm ok with that. But, should I feel that tight? I know it'll get easier.
I'd also like to say for the record, these people are cyborgs. There's no way they are 100% human. They're doing all this punching, jumping, squatting motions (sometimes all at once) with a smile on their face. I've already screamed, "I hate you Tony!" (Tony's the leader of the cyborg cult). He's half evil, half robot. I think Bill Gates created him at Microsoft.
Here's what we've worked on so far...
Arms
Legs
Butt
Chest
You do things like pushups (I have a feeling I'm going to do about 10,000 of these by the end of 90 days), this Dreya Roll, which is this inhumane way of standing up, then sitting down (without using your arms to guide you onto the floor), then you're on your back, roll your legs over your head, then reverse it, and pop back up (again without using your arms to get up). You do this over and over and over again.
Let's say, I have a friend (ME) who isn't the best at this (ME), and uses his hands, arms AND knees to stand back up during Dreya Roll (Again ME!!!). I also love doing leg kicks over a stool. Good times. Had to pick up parts of my groin off the carpet for that one. Poor Tucker. I accidentally kicked him in the face during this. I thought he would be concussed. Instead, he kept his happy face on, tag wagging as if nothing happened. Tony would LOVE his tenacity. Then, tell him to do it only FIVE MORE TIMES!!
Not too sore yet. Some stiffness. Drinking lots of water.
We took before pictures. Not sure how to post them. I'm sure Kristen will show me.
Two days down...88 more to go.
Oh, and my buddy Tim also started P90X on Monday (without knowing that Kristen and I were also doing it). You remember Tim. He's the one that has the biggest appetite of anyone I know. He could eat an entire buffalo if we gave him enough time. After these 90 days, I hope he doesn't lose his will to eat. That would be the biggest loss of all.
I'd like to say off the bat, having Kristen P90X with me, is a huge help. Nothing like her being much better at the aerobics steps than me. Many times I have felt I had two right feet. I looked down and was amazed I didn't.
Starting off the first day, I knew I was in trouble when I was winded during the opening stretching routine. Uh oh! And I run about 10-12 miles a week, yet P90X stretching...Whoa! Let's face it, I can't touch my feet when I'm leaning over, stretching. Can't do it. I'm ok with that. But, should I feel that tight? I know it'll get easier.
I'd also like to say for the record, these people are cyborgs. There's no way they are 100% human. They're doing all this punching, jumping, squatting motions (sometimes all at once) with a smile on their face. I've already screamed, "I hate you Tony!" (Tony's the leader of the cyborg cult). He's half evil, half robot. I think Bill Gates created him at Microsoft.
Here's what we've worked on so far...
Arms
Legs
Butt
Chest
You do things like pushups (I have a feeling I'm going to do about 10,000 of these by the end of 90 days), this Dreya Roll, which is this inhumane way of standing up, then sitting down (without using your arms to guide you onto the floor), then you're on your back, roll your legs over your head, then reverse it, and pop back up (again without using your arms to get up). You do this over and over and over again.
Let's say, I have a friend (ME) who isn't the best at this (ME), and uses his hands, arms AND knees to stand back up during Dreya Roll (Again ME!!!). I also love doing leg kicks over a stool. Good times. Had to pick up parts of my groin off the carpet for that one. Poor Tucker. I accidentally kicked him in the face during this. I thought he would be concussed. Instead, he kept his happy face on, tag wagging as if nothing happened. Tony would LOVE his tenacity. Then, tell him to do it only FIVE MORE TIMES!!
Not too sore yet. Some stiffness. Drinking lots of water.
We took before pictures. Not sure how to post them. I'm sure Kristen will show me.
Two days down...88 more to go.
Oh, and my buddy Tim also started P90X on Monday (without knowing that Kristen and I were also doing it). You remember Tim. He's the one that has the biggest appetite of anyone I know. He could eat an entire buffalo if we gave him enough time. After these 90 days, I hope he doesn't lose his will to eat. That would be the biggest loss of all.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
The New Soon To Be Me
Before we get started, I just want to let you know...
The Streak Lives On! 5,208 days and counting. Even an All You Can Eat Meat Fest keeps the food down. Amazing! Like I've always said...The Streak is bigger than you and me.
But, onto new things, and a new chapter in my life.
Let's call this chapter...Hell!
At least that's what I've heard people call it.
No, I'm talking about the fact that starting Monday morning, Kristen and I are starting P90X. If you're unfamiliar with P90X, basically it works your entire body, section by section, for 90 straight days, with occasional days off, to what they call stretch, so that when you bend over to tie your shoes, you're able to straighten up.
I always ask a guy at work who is doing P90X..."James, how's it going?" "HELL". Or Shannon, "How's P90X?" "I can't move my arms." Well...then! There's that!
Here's a video of P90X...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rQwHGiAyyBU&feature=channel
I love how they dare you at the end. That's always encouraging. Sounds like a real walk in the park.
How did I get myself involved with this? Oh yeah, less than four months until I get hitched, so I'd like to lose some of my "Baby Fat" before then. Granted, thirty years after the fact, but Baby Fat burns off right?
I wish I was technologically savvy enough to take a before and after picture of myself, and post it.
Oh...I found one of myself...
http://media.photobucket.com/image/chunk/shadys-lady/chunk.jpg
Hopefully, I won't look like that person on October 23rd.
Throughout "Hell", I will continuously track my progress to everyone so you can know where to send flowers in case of serious injury.
Also, for the next three months, I hope I'll be able to do the following...
Be able to tie my shoes and not ask for assistance.
Be able to pick up the camera at work...on second thought, I'd like to be able to straighten my arms and not cry.
Be able to wake up out of bed and not ask for a "Push".
Be able to sneeze and not worry about cracking a rib.
Be able to fork my own food into my mouth.
You know the little things.
I'll let you know how we do.
The Streak Lives On! 5,208 days and counting. Even an All You Can Eat Meat Fest keeps the food down. Amazing! Like I've always said...The Streak is bigger than you and me.
But, onto new things, and a new chapter in my life.
Let's call this chapter...Hell!
At least that's what I've heard people call it.
No, I'm talking about the fact that starting Monday morning, Kristen and I are starting P90X. If you're unfamiliar with P90X, basically it works your entire body, section by section, for 90 straight days, with occasional days off, to what they call stretch, so that when you bend over to tie your shoes, you're able to straighten up.
I always ask a guy at work who is doing P90X..."James, how's it going?" "HELL". Or Shannon, "How's P90X?" "I can't move my arms." Well...then! There's that!
Here's a video of P90X...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rQwHGiAyyBU&feature=channel
I love how they dare you at the end. That's always encouraging. Sounds like a real walk in the park.
How did I get myself involved with this? Oh yeah, less than four months until I get hitched, so I'd like to lose some of my "Baby Fat" before then. Granted, thirty years after the fact, but Baby Fat burns off right?
I wish I was technologically savvy enough to take a before and after picture of myself, and post it.
Oh...I found one of myself...
http://media.photobucket.com/image/chunk/shadys-lady/chunk.jpg
Hopefully, I won't look like that person on October 23rd.
Throughout "Hell", I will continuously track my progress to everyone so you can know where to send flowers in case of serious injury.
Also, for the next three months, I hope I'll be able to do the following...
Be able to tie my shoes and not ask for assistance.
Be able to pick up the camera at work...on second thought, I'd like to be able to straighten my arms and not cry.
Be able to wake up out of bed and not ask for a "Push".
Be able to sneeze and not worry about cracking a rib.
Be able to fork my own food into my mouth.
You know the little things.
I'll let you know how we do.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Write this on my tombstone...
Things I'm most proud of in my life...
Graduating college
Successful in the television news industry
Leaving family and friends in New York and moving to Florida without knowing anyone
Meeting Kristen and having the opportunity to marry her
Not getting mugged in any of my shady apartment complexes (I've learned they're cheap for a reason)
The streak
It was a fateful night...March 24, 1996, I was a senior in high school. A friend of mine, who later turned out to be my college roommate, was having a party with non Gatorade beverages. That same night, Syracuse was playing in the Sweet 16 against Georgia. Anyone who knows me, puts up with my obsession with Syracuse basketball. This was a HUGE game for the 'Cuse. Top 15 team in the country, playing for a chance to make it to the Elite Eight. Syracuse down 2 with two seconds left. Inbounds pass from half court...Jason Cipolla catches it, throws it up...MAKES IT...ties the game...in overtime, Syracuse down 2 with ten seconds left...their best player...John Wallace...6'8"...a ball handler he is not...decides to bring the ball up...everyone within earshot of Syracuse hears the collective cry from the city..."NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"...he fumbles his way upcourt as gracefully as an ice skating pig...throws up a 3...and NAILS IT!!!! Syracuse wins.
And I celebrate as if I'm in the heap of the Syracuse players. From that moment on, the non Gatorade beverages were flowing at an increased rate.
Looking back on it...all I remember after the game is stumbling out of the bathroom as cops inform me I've had too much to drink. Very insightful.
Friends gave me a ride home and I proceed to make it out of the driveway before I lose what wasn't Gatorade onto a poor, unsuspecting sidewalk.
Everything after that horn sounded to end the game was a moment I'd like to forget.
Unfortunately, I can't. From that moment on...the streak was born.
There are many famous streaks out there....
Joe DiMaggio hitting safely in 56 straight games.
Cal Ripken playing in 2632 straight games.
Wilt Chamberlain sleeping with different women in 1284 consecutive days.
Dad eating the cookies I leave out for Santa, right in front of me, on the night of Christmas Eve, for the last five years.
Mine...
It's been 14 plus years since I've thrown up.
There were some close calls.
Like the May 2000 incident, the night before college graduation, standing over the toilet, reading the streak it's last rites. I made my peace with it. But, it survived.
Or the times I see people on the "teacups" at Disney World. That gives me the queasies.
I bring this up, because two days ago, intestinal forecasters warned me that there is a vomit warning on the horizon, possibly making landfall around Saturday night.
Hey, that sucks...that's the same night as my Bachelor Party and I don't want to have to leave my guys, so I can be sick and miss out on all of the fun and...
OH...
UH OH...
Now I see...
Not Good.
Here is the itinerary...
Late morning...Beer Olympics...caps...cornhole...beer pong.
Make an appearance at the shower my Mom is throwing Kristen. AKA...don't be so buzzed that you're a moron. Show up, sit up and shut up. Well, not the last part, I needed another "s". I do have to contribute...things like..."That's a lovely bowl" or "I've always wanted that glassware" or "I can die a happy man knowing my love got the dishes she always wanted."
After that, more Beer Olympics...followed by a drive to Niagara Falls. Casino, drinking and eating. My favorite part...a dinner at an all you can eat Brazilian steakhouse. You know what that means...
A meat-off between my brother Kevin, who's penchant for throwing down food in mass quantities is growing more legendary the older he gets (you should have seen what he did to the Bellagio Buffet...I thought they were going to call security and have us escorted out of there because the food didn't have a chance of surviving) vs Tim who was born that way, and eats more than any other person I've ever met. Old School vs New School. Mentor vs Student. It's the Meat-Off. We should pay per view this thing.
After this....more drinking.
I'm getting the sense Kevin wants to see me lose the streak.
Sadly enough, I've been proud of the streak for years and years. I'm excited it's lasted this long. I hope it doesn't flame out this weekend. I'll be really sad.
I've realized the streak is bigger than you and me. I just hope it continues to live, so we can all share in the good news.
Graduating college
Successful in the television news industry
Leaving family and friends in New York and moving to Florida without knowing anyone
Meeting Kristen and having the opportunity to marry her
Not getting mugged in any of my shady apartment complexes (I've learned they're cheap for a reason)
The streak
It was a fateful night...March 24, 1996, I was a senior in high school. A friend of mine, who later turned out to be my college roommate, was having a party with non Gatorade beverages. That same night, Syracuse was playing in the Sweet 16 against Georgia. Anyone who knows me, puts up with my obsession with Syracuse basketball. This was a HUGE game for the 'Cuse. Top 15 team in the country, playing for a chance to make it to the Elite Eight. Syracuse down 2 with two seconds left. Inbounds pass from half court...Jason Cipolla catches it, throws it up...MAKES IT...ties the game...in overtime, Syracuse down 2 with ten seconds left...their best player...John Wallace...6'8"...a ball handler he is not...decides to bring the ball up...everyone within earshot of Syracuse hears the collective cry from the city..."NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"...he fumbles his way upcourt as gracefully as an ice skating pig...throws up a 3...and NAILS IT!!!! Syracuse wins.
And I celebrate as if I'm in the heap of the Syracuse players. From that moment on, the non Gatorade beverages were flowing at an increased rate.
Looking back on it...all I remember after the game is stumbling out of the bathroom as cops inform me I've had too much to drink. Very insightful.
Friends gave me a ride home and I proceed to make it out of the driveway before I lose what wasn't Gatorade onto a poor, unsuspecting sidewalk.
Everything after that horn sounded to end the game was a moment I'd like to forget.
Unfortunately, I can't. From that moment on...the streak was born.
There are many famous streaks out there....
Joe DiMaggio hitting safely in 56 straight games.
Cal Ripken playing in 2632 straight games.
Wilt Chamberlain sleeping with different women in 1284 consecutive days.
Dad eating the cookies I leave out for Santa, right in front of me, on the night of Christmas Eve, for the last five years.
Mine...
It's been 14 plus years since I've thrown up.
There were some close calls.
Like the May 2000 incident, the night before college graduation, standing over the toilet, reading the streak it's last rites. I made my peace with it. But, it survived.
Or the times I see people on the "teacups" at Disney World. That gives me the queasies.
I bring this up, because two days ago, intestinal forecasters warned me that there is a vomit warning on the horizon, possibly making landfall around Saturday night.
Hey, that sucks...that's the same night as my Bachelor Party and I don't want to have to leave my guys, so I can be sick and miss out on all of the fun and...
OH...
UH OH...
Now I see...
Not Good.
Here is the itinerary...
Late morning...Beer Olympics...caps...cornhole...beer pong.
Make an appearance at the shower my Mom is throwing Kristen. AKA...don't be so buzzed that you're a moron. Show up, sit up and shut up. Well, not the last part, I needed another "s". I do have to contribute...things like..."That's a lovely bowl" or "I've always wanted that glassware" or "I can die a happy man knowing my love got the dishes she always wanted."
After that, more Beer Olympics...followed by a drive to Niagara Falls. Casino, drinking and eating. My favorite part...a dinner at an all you can eat Brazilian steakhouse. You know what that means...
A meat-off between my brother Kevin, who's penchant for throwing down food in mass quantities is growing more legendary the older he gets (you should have seen what he did to the Bellagio Buffet...I thought they were going to call security and have us escorted out of there because the food didn't have a chance of surviving) vs Tim who was born that way, and eats more than any other person I've ever met. Old School vs New School. Mentor vs Student. It's the Meat-Off. We should pay per view this thing.
After this....more drinking.
I'm getting the sense Kevin wants to see me lose the streak.
Sadly enough, I've been proud of the streak for years and years. I'm excited it's lasted this long. I hope it doesn't flame out this weekend. I'll be really sad.
I've realized the streak is bigger than you and me. I just hope it continues to live, so we can all share in the good news.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
A One Sided Mismatch
Ever say to yourself, "What did I do to deserve this?"
Had one of those moments this morning as I was on my way to work.
I walked outside and I noticed my silver Honda Accord was littered...no littered isn't a strong enough word...MASSACRED in bird poop. My car had no chance. There must have been thirty different spots hit. The windshield, the hood, the roof, the side windows (always a tough angle for them). What those birds did to my car isn't humane. They must have been circling my car over and over, having a contest with one another.
"Hey Jermaine...watch this...(drops)...OHHHHH!!!! That was a good one. Right on the door handle. He's going to have a tough one getting that off his hands."
Either that, or it was one single bird that had WAY too much Mexican last night. If that's the case, I honestly want to send it to a vet and get it's digestive system cleaned. Give it some Imodium, nurse it back to health and send it on it's way.
I would have taken a picture but it was the middle of the night, I don't own a camera or a phone that has flash. I'm really up on the times.
At first, I thought it was the "neighborhood kids", and I don't even know if there are "neighborhood kids", but it's always easier to blame it on them. I thought they painted my car white...I'm not kidding.
I noticed that no other car got hit in the parking lot. So, I spent five minutes looking up research to my long held belief that birds like using silver cars as their own personal porta potties. I came up with about eight other people having the same experience that their silver cars got crushed in a parking lot or driveway and not a speck anywhere else.
Mind you, I haven't had great experiences with birds. Over the last three years, I've been hit twice in the head by our hawk. No, we don't own a hawk, but every year there's a hawk at work who spends a couple months divebombing my co-workers. And the tv station can't do anything about it. We're told by Fish and Wildlife that because they're endangered (as opposed to my head), we have to leave them alone. So, they continue picking us off like target practice and we take it. "Thank you sir, may I have another."
All in all, birds and I aren't cohabitating together right now. Not until they stop using my car as target practice...or until they lay off the Mexican.
Had one of those moments this morning as I was on my way to work.
I walked outside and I noticed my silver Honda Accord was littered...no littered isn't a strong enough word...MASSACRED in bird poop. My car had no chance. There must have been thirty different spots hit. The windshield, the hood, the roof, the side windows (always a tough angle for them). What those birds did to my car isn't humane. They must have been circling my car over and over, having a contest with one another.
"Hey Jermaine...watch this...(drops)...OHHHHH!!!! That was a good one. Right on the door handle. He's going to have a tough one getting that off his hands."
Either that, or it was one single bird that had WAY too much Mexican last night. If that's the case, I honestly want to send it to a vet and get it's digestive system cleaned. Give it some Imodium, nurse it back to health and send it on it's way.
I would have taken a picture but it was the middle of the night, I don't own a camera or a phone that has flash. I'm really up on the times.
At first, I thought it was the "neighborhood kids", and I don't even know if there are "neighborhood kids", but it's always easier to blame it on them. I thought they painted my car white...I'm not kidding.
I noticed that no other car got hit in the parking lot. So, I spent five minutes looking up research to my long held belief that birds like using silver cars as their own personal porta potties. I came up with about eight other people having the same experience that their silver cars got crushed in a parking lot or driveway and not a speck anywhere else.
Mind you, I haven't had great experiences with birds. Over the last three years, I've been hit twice in the head by our hawk. No, we don't own a hawk, but every year there's a hawk at work who spends a couple months divebombing my co-workers. And the tv station can't do anything about it. We're told by Fish and Wildlife that because they're endangered (as opposed to my head), we have to leave them alone. So, they continue picking us off like target practice and we take it. "Thank you sir, may I have another."
All in all, birds and I aren't cohabitating together right now. Not until they stop using my car as target practice...or until they lay off the Mexican.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Why are you defending yourself?
I was driving around in sunny Florida today and I noticed a truck with a sticker on it's window that said the following...
"I'll take my guns, my freedom and my money and you can have the change."
First off, what does that mean? Your change? I have no idea what you're offering me. I'm a fairly intelligent individual. I got an 1120 on my SAT's before they completely changed the scoring. Now an 1120 will land you on a PROP 48 list for a college basketball recruit. Next, you're going to have shady characters named Rocco knocking on your door asking you if they can take your next SAT exam for you, so you can play point guard for their favorite college basketball program. But, for me, I don't think my college fraternity, Kappa Alpha, was hiring anyone on my behalf, so I could squeeze onto the fraternity's intramural volleyball team.
Second, why do gun owners feel the need to show off to fellow drivers the fact that they own a gun? Last I heard, you don't need a gun in order to put a car into ignition, drive 60 mph in a 35 mph zone, weave in and around cars with no turn signals, cross two lanes of traffic, stop on a dime, just so they can pull into Publix; at least that's how they drive in Florida.
Here are the following gun bumper stickers that you just COULDN'T live without...
Gun Control Means Using Both Hands
Gun Control Means Hitting Your Target
A Gun In The Hand Is Better Than A Cop On The Phone
See...now you can sleep better knowing these are out there.
Some gun owners scream..."Second Amendment rights." Thanks. I know that you're allowed to own a gun. I don't need a bumper sticker to remind me of that fact. It's my right to own an iPod. I'm not going to make up a bumper sticker that says..."I'm spinning tunes with Apple. You can have my core."
I just don't understand the need to tell me you're packing. Next time, I'm wondering, I'll ask. Until then...get your gun out of my face. I need two eyes on the road before I get cut off again.
"I'll take my guns, my freedom and my money and you can have the change."
First off, what does that mean? Your change? I have no idea what you're offering me. I'm a fairly intelligent individual. I got an 1120 on my SAT's before they completely changed the scoring. Now an 1120 will land you on a PROP 48 list for a college basketball recruit. Next, you're going to have shady characters named Rocco knocking on your door asking you if they can take your next SAT exam for you, so you can play point guard for their favorite college basketball program. But, for me, I don't think my college fraternity, Kappa Alpha, was hiring anyone on my behalf, so I could squeeze onto the fraternity's intramural volleyball team.
Second, why do gun owners feel the need to show off to fellow drivers the fact that they own a gun? Last I heard, you don't need a gun in order to put a car into ignition, drive 60 mph in a 35 mph zone, weave in and around cars with no turn signals, cross two lanes of traffic, stop on a dime, just so they can pull into Publix; at least that's how they drive in Florida.
Here are the following gun bumper stickers that you just COULDN'T live without...
Gun Control Means Using Both Hands
Gun Control Means Hitting Your Target
A Gun In The Hand Is Better Than A Cop On The Phone
See...now you can sleep better knowing these are out there.
Some gun owners scream..."Second Amendment rights." Thanks. I know that you're allowed to own a gun. I don't need a bumper sticker to remind me of that fact. It's my right to own an iPod. I'm not going to make up a bumper sticker that says..."I'm spinning tunes with Apple. You can have my core."
I just don't understand the need to tell me you're packing. Next time, I'm wondering, I'll ask. Until then...get your gun out of my face. I need two eyes on the road before I get cut off again.
Friday, May 28, 2010
I'm glad I'm a guy
Anyone who knows me knows I love food. Probably half my posts are related to food. It's a true miracle I don't weight 300 pounds and have the cholesterol level of a Samoan guy (quote courtesy to Joe Cowan).
I'm obsessed with food. Kristen sent me a link to our honeymoon hotel in Hawaii.
http://www.hiltonwaikoloavillage.com/
First thing I looked at...
Dining. I want to see all the restaurants they have to offer. That's who I am.
In a little more than two weeks, Kristen and I are flying to Rochester, so my mom can throw her a bridal shower and I will have my bachelor's party in Niagara Falls. Two birds, one stone.
Yesterday, I heard what was on her menu. What's the opposite of mouth watering? Mouth drying? Desert mouth?
Don't get me wrong, the food will be spectacular. It's from a very well known hotel in Rochester, and I know the ladies will love it.
It's just not my cup of tea. Let's take a look at something that I would want...
Wait, it's NOT about me? Really? Oh well, here's what I would want if I was having a Groomsman's shower of food, food and more food...
Garbage plate, a combination of hamburgers, mac salad, potatoes, hot sauce, ketchup, all sitting on top of each other...http://margorabb.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/01/garbageplate1.jpg
Now, doesn't that look delicious?
Or, a contest to see who can eat a 30" pizza the quickest.
Or, all you can eat barbecue.
Or a five pound burrito? That would be awesome!!
See a trend here.
Kristen's menu...
Pistachio crusted chicken. I know all the ladies are saying, "HMMMM!!!!" Why put pistachios on chicken, when you can douse it with barbecue sauce? That's ridiculous.
A mixed green salad. Why mix greens into anything? That just stops the process of seeing how much one can eat at any given time.
And the topper...
Lemon Chaffon Cake.
I think the word "Chaffon" in French means "Air". Why have an Air Cake?
Let's have a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup Cheesecake with Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough. That's my kind of dessert. With milkshakes.
I wonder why my stomach hurts at night. Must be all the water I drink. I told them no tap water.
Again, I know it will be amazing for the ladies. I'm not dissing my mom. I'm dissing the bridal shower system. Let's give the ladies some Five Guys Burgers. Multiple hamburgers, unlimited toppings of mushrooms, red onions, fried onions, bacon, lettuce (see you can have greens), mayonnaise, hot sauce, ketchup, whatever. An entire bag's worth of fries. Now we're talking. I'm going to ambush the shower with Five Guys.
On second thought, that might be rude to my mother. So, I won't. But, only because I love my mother.
Instead, I'm going to bridal shower crash someone I don't know. Walk in with bags of grease..."LADIES, who wants some Five Guys?" They'll look at me like I'm George Clooney. Or Justin Bieber if it's a teenage bridal shower. Hey, have you seen those shows on MTV? There's more out there than you think.
Kristen wouldn't want this for her shower. She likes what my mom chooses. So, it works out for everyone.
However, I'm seeing a trend of Men Eat Whatever They Want (until they're married) vs Women Who Mix In Greens. Once I say, "I Do", I know Kristen will throw a plate of greens my way (I'll ask what that red thing is, she'll say it's a tomato), and throw out all my burrito punch cards. But, I was so close to my third time of getting a free burrito after ten purchases. It's to the point, I'm having conversations with the general manager of the store.
So, until the "I Do", please don't send me any chaffon. I have a mouth to water.
I'm obsessed with food. Kristen sent me a link to our honeymoon hotel in Hawaii.
http://www.hiltonwaikoloavillage.com/
First thing I looked at...
Dining. I want to see all the restaurants they have to offer. That's who I am.
In a little more than two weeks, Kristen and I are flying to Rochester, so my mom can throw her a bridal shower and I will have my bachelor's party in Niagara Falls. Two birds, one stone.
Yesterday, I heard what was on her menu. What's the opposite of mouth watering? Mouth drying? Desert mouth?
Don't get me wrong, the food will be spectacular. It's from a very well known hotel in Rochester, and I know the ladies will love it.
It's just not my cup of tea. Let's take a look at something that I would want...
Wait, it's NOT about me? Really? Oh well, here's what I would want if I was having a Groomsman's shower of food, food and more food...
Garbage plate, a combination of hamburgers, mac salad, potatoes, hot sauce, ketchup, all sitting on top of each other...http://margorabb.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/01/garbageplate1.jpg
Now, doesn't that look delicious?
Or, a contest to see who can eat a 30" pizza the quickest.
Or, all you can eat barbecue.
Or a five pound burrito? That would be awesome!!
See a trend here.
Kristen's menu...
Pistachio crusted chicken. I know all the ladies are saying, "HMMMM!!!!" Why put pistachios on chicken, when you can douse it with barbecue sauce? That's ridiculous.
A mixed green salad. Why mix greens into anything? That just stops the process of seeing how much one can eat at any given time.
And the topper...
Lemon Chaffon Cake.
I think the word "Chaffon" in French means "Air". Why have an Air Cake?
Let's have a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup Cheesecake with Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough. That's my kind of dessert. With milkshakes.
I wonder why my stomach hurts at night. Must be all the water I drink. I told them no tap water.
Again, I know it will be amazing for the ladies. I'm not dissing my mom. I'm dissing the bridal shower system. Let's give the ladies some Five Guys Burgers. Multiple hamburgers, unlimited toppings of mushrooms, red onions, fried onions, bacon, lettuce (see you can have greens), mayonnaise, hot sauce, ketchup, whatever. An entire bag's worth of fries. Now we're talking. I'm going to ambush the shower with Five Guys.
On second thought, that might be rude to my mother. So, I won't. But, only because I love my mother.
Instead, I'm going to bridal shower crash someone I don't know. Walk in with bags of grease..."LADIES, who wants some Five Guys?" They'll look at me like I'm George Clooney. Or Justin Bieber if it's a teenage bridal shower. Hey, have you seen those shows on MTV? There's more out there than you think.
Kristen wouldn't want this for her shower. She likes what my mom chooses. So, it works out for everyone.
However, I'm seeing a trend of Men Eat Whatever They Want (until they're married) vs Women Who Mix In Greens. Once I say, "I Do", I know Kristen will throw a plate of greens my way (I'll ask what that red thing is, she'll say it's a tomato), and throw out all my burrito punch cards. But, I was so close to my third time of getting a free burrito after ten purchases. It's to the point, I'm having conversations with the general manager of the store.
So, until the "I Do", please don't send me any chaffon. I have a mouth to water.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Major Wedding Plans Update
Kristen and I have a major announcement to share with everyone and thought it best to put on the blog. For something as important as this, we know it's proper to call everyone and share this news (because it affects all the people going to our wedding). However, it's just too difficult to individually call everyone we care about. And it's because we care about those same people, that we feel it's important enough to tell you at the same time.
So, with sad hearts, we are here to tell you...
Kristen and I have decided it's in our best interest to....
Have cupcakes at our wedding.
Sad hearts, maybe for everyone else who loves wedding cake, but for us, suck it wedding cake. We've known you for 20 years, and we want to know you no longer. Another tombstone...
Wedding Cake
Beginning of time to May 25, 2010
You filled us with sugary goodness for years, but lack in taste.
I'm glad to get a shovel, heck I'll get a bulldozer so I can pound dirt on your casket, quick enough so I don't have to see you again.
This is a cupcake birth and we're holding our own pile of sugary goodness. Smile sweet heart as we take pictures with our cupcake babies.
OK, that may be going a bit too far, but I ask you this...
Have you tasted these cupcakes?
The creator...SweetbyHolly. Website: www.sweetbyholly.com
We've ordered 360 mini cupcakes (think two bites and bring your eat on, especially considering my boy Timmy can't have them...sorry Timmy) with nine different flavors. Going in for a tasting, this was more exciting to me than anything else we've done. I love sweets so much, that I'm the same guy who puts out cookies for Santa Claus on Christmas Eve night, in the hopes that my dad won't eat ALL of them, so I can have a couple in the morning.
(Announcer voice)..."AND NOW....FOR YOUR EATING PLEASURE...HERE ARE YOUR NINE FLAVORS...."
Black and White cake...chocolate cake, white chips, swirled frosting. Kristen's favorite.
Black Out...dark chocolate cake and frosting, chocolate vermicelli (I have no idea what that word means. She made that up. But it sounds great with the word chocolate in front of it. This is when all the ladies reading this nod, "You're right...chocolate...)
Boston Cream...yellow cake, vanilla buttercream, chocolate ganache, cream filling. This is going to have "B" in orange on top signifying either my last name or "Best Buddy" for her "best buddy" in Gainesville. Best Buddy will be prominently shown in our wedding with "Best Buddy" cupcakes and we can't take out this booty shaking song, it's "Best Buddy and my favorite dance"...hmmm...I've heard that for like five songs. Why haven't I picked up on that yet?
Carrot...spiced cake, walnuts, raisins, cream cheese frosting.
Cookies and cream...white cake, vanilla buttercream, crushed oreos and cream filling.
Peanut Butter...chocolate peanut butter swirled cake and frosting. Reese's chunk on top.
Red Velvet...traditional red cake, cream cheese frosting, dark chocolate curls. Again, no idea what a "curl" is, but we're all seduced with "chocolate". It could say "chocolate shoe" and we'd all..."WOW...that's amazing. I've never tried shoe before."
White Out...white cake, white chocolate buttercream, white chocolate vermicelli (there's THAT word again).
And finally, last but certainly not least...
Tiramisu...espresso soaked cake, cream cheese frosting, dark chocolate curls.
So, there you have them. Your dessert starting lineup everyone. Take pictures as they stand there, ready to get ASSAULTED by the sweet tooth in all of us.
Except my mom. She'll probably have bread for dinner. (Shaking my head). So sad. If she only knew...
So, with sad hearts, we are here to tell you...
Kristen and I have decided it's in our best interest to....
Have cupcakes at our wedding.
Sad hearts, maybe for everyone else who loves wedding cake, but for us, suck it wedding cake. We've known you for 20 years, and we want to know you no longer. Another tombstone...
Wedding Cake
Beginning of time to May 25, 2010
You filled us with sugary goodness for years, but lack in taste.
I'm glad to get a shovel, heck I'll get a bulldozer so I can pound dirt on your casket, quick enough so I don't have to see you again.
This is a cupcake birth and we're holding our own pile of sugary goodness. Smile sweet heart as we take pictures with our cupcake babies.
OK, that may be going a bit too far, but I ask you this...
Have you tasted these cupcakes?
The creator...SweetbyHolly. Website: www.sweetbyholly.com
We've ordered 360 mini cupcakes (think two bites and bring your eat on, especially considering my boy Timmy can't have them...sorry Timmy) with nine different flavors. Going in for a tasting, this was more exciting to me than anything else we've done. I love sweets so much, that I'm the same guy who puts out cookies for Santa Claus on Christmas Eve night, in the hopes that my dad won't eat ALL of them, so I can have a couple in the morning.
(Announcer voice)..."AND NOW....FOR YOUR EATING PLEASURE...HERE ARE YOUR NINE FLAVORS...."
Black and White cake...chocolate cake, white chips, swirled frosting. Kristen's favorite.
Black Out...dark chocolate cake and frosting, chocolate vermicelli (I have no idea what that word means. She made that up. But it sounds great with the word chocolate in front of it. This is when all the ladies reading this nod, "You're right...chocolate...)
Boston Cream...yellow cake, vanilla buttercream, chocolate ganache, cream filling. This is going to have "B" in orange on top signifying either my last name or "Best Buddy" for her "best buddy" in Gainesville. Best Buddy will be prominently shown in our wedding with "Best Buddy" cupcakes and we can't take out this booty shaking song, it's "Best Buddy and my favorite dance"...hmmm...I've heard that for like five songs. Why haven't I picked up on that yet?
Carrot...spiced cake, walnuts, raisins, cream cheese frosting.
Cookies and cream...white cake, vanilla buttercream, crushed oreos and cream filling.
Peanut Butter...chocolate peanut butter swirled cake and frosting. Reese's chunk on top.
Red Velvet...traditional red cake, cream cheese frosting, dark chocolate curls. Again, no idea what a "curl" is, but we're all seduced with "chocolate". It could say "chocolate shoe" and we'd all..."WOW...that's amazing. I've never tried shoe before."
White Out...white cake, white chocolate buttercream, white chocolate vermicelli (there's THAT word again).
And finally, last but certainly not least...
Tiramisu...espresso soaked cake, cream cheese frosting, dark chocolate curls.
So, there you have them. Your dessert starting lineup everyone. Take pictures as they stand there, ready to get ASSAULTED by the sweet tooth in all of us.
Except my mom. She'll probably have bread for dinner. (Shaking my head). So sad. If she only knew...
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