Happy 2012! I'm not exactly working too hard on my vow to stop procrastinating. I've been meaning to update the blog, but just haven't gotten around to it. I kept telling myself I'd work on it tomorrow. That was over two weeks ago. I'm thinking I probably have what I call the Scarlett O'Hara Syndrome: "Tomorrow is another day."
Christmas came and went with its usual flurry. We made a quick trip back to Flint and took Keaton's beloved Elizabeth with us. We, of course, had to initiate her and make her a fan of the overall Christmas spirit and yummy chicken dinner goodness found in Frankenmuth. That meant posing for pictures...lots of pictures. Some serious and some not-so-serious ones. Poor Keaton just shakes his head and walks away from us when we're being goofy. I think he's secretly wondering if there's any way he could have been switched at birth.
Keaton spent New Year's Eve with his beloved and her family in Chicago. So, since he wasn't around for his yearly Happy New Year kiss, I had Matt take a close-up picture of my puckered lips and then sent it to Keaton. He didn't seem to find it as amusing as I did. I think he's secretly hoping his real parents are normal.
Our crazy roller coaster weather has made it tough to snowshoe. We did get about a foot of snow two weeks ago, so we ventured outside to enjoy a nice walk along the lovely Kalamazoo River. We had another good snowfall last week and had snow piled up to the top of our mailbox. But then we had a thunderstorm on Sunday night and awoke to rain. Now the snow is pretty much gone. I'm thinking of building an ark. Well, maybe it'll be more like a houseboat. With global warming and living in Michigan surrounded by huge lakes, I'm thinking we're going to get some flooding in the future. Make that a lot of flooding.
I've been keeping busy trying to not get killed by our new treadmill. So far, so good. Well, mostly so good. It has different workout programs with different inclines and speeds. Last week I tried (that's the operative word...TRIED) to do the same workout as I had done the previous day. Well, I thought it was the same program. It started out exactly the same...slow increases in speed and incline. All of a sudden the treadmill incline increased to 12 and the speed jumped to 6.5 mph. That doesn't sound too bad for most people, but for us uncoordinated and out-of-shape people, it's scary. So, I did what any woman would do. I started yelling, "whoa, Whoa, WHOA, *^%(#@(!&#!" (edited for delicate ears). Luckily I was able to jump off before I was forced to run up the mountain. Since I have no need to ever run up a mountain, I see no need to ever train for running up a mountain. (The only way I'd ever have to run up a mountain is if there was a bear chasing me. Then, I only have to run faster than the person behind me. So, I figure that if I just plan to make sure there's always someone slower than me on our hikes, I'll be just fine.) So, training for a marathon or mountain climbing is just crazy for me. Plus, I don't like to sweat. (Again, it could just be a symptom of the Scarlett O'Hara Syndrome.) I now have that workout program marked as the Near-Death Experience. Matt was nice enough after my attempted murder to tell me about the safety cord I'm supposed to clip on me that will automatically stop the treadmill if it's ever trying to kill me. Well, at that incline and speed, I definitely would have wound up bashed against the wall...probably perilously close to seeing a white light. Needless to say, I've had much better workouts since the treadmill stopped trying to kill me. Whew! Cyrus, being Cyrus, just walks into the room and looks at me during my workouts and then walks out again. He's so anti-drama in any way, shape or form. Cyrus does like the treadmill though. He enjoys sitting on it. We're trying to get him to walk on it, but he just likes to ride it until the end of the belt and then just jumps off. I guess that's kind of a workout for him. He's at least jumping.
We enjoyed a fabulous dinner at The Melting Pot to celebrate my birthday. My original birthday celebration had to be postponed because Matt had his department holiday celebration that night. Since spending my birthday with strangers and listening to a lot of work talk wasn't really my idea of a fun birthday celebration, I decided Matt could take me out for real and foot the bill instead of his boss. We enjoyed a delicious three-course fondue dinner with friends and had a great time. I'm not sure what it is about salads that make them a thousand times better in a restaurant than in your own home. I make them at home with the same ingredients, but they're always SO much better in a restaurant. It must be the fact that someone else prepares them and brings them to you. Things just seem to taste better if someone else makes the food for you...and better yet if they wait on you. I had lobster (probably my favorite food in the world after anything Mexican) and then chose milk chocolate with amaretto for our dessert fondue. All I can say is I seriously almost licked the bowl...it was that amazingly, deliciously, unbelievably good!
Speaking of food, I'm trying to introduce Matt to Indian cuisine since he'll be heading over to India in February/March for a few weeks for work. I'm not a huge fan of Indian food (which is odd since I love anything spicy). I think it's just the smell of curry. It's a smell that just makes me nauseous. I don't mind the flavor, but the smell just hangs around and I can't smell anything but curry for days and days. I'm thinking of just clipping a clothespin on my nose for the next Indian meal I make for Matt...and then just using a can of Febreeze in the house. Maybe a couple of cans. I may need to stock up on Febreeze for Matt's return from India. I'm afraid that all that curry will soak into his skin. He may have to stay in the garage until he airs out. But, Matt's not leaving for another month so I can worry about the smell next month. Yep, I definitely think I have the Scarlett O'Hara Syndrome.
