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Last week I was taking it easy, lounging on my bed and reading a book when my husband Jordan came in. Our conversation went as follows:
Jordan: "What did you say?"
Bre: "I didn't say anything."
Jordan: "Yeah, you did. You said something and then I said 'what?' and then you said 'nothing!'"
Bre: "No, I've been sitting here reading, I haven't said a thing."
Yesterday, I paid a much needed visit to the orthopedic doctor to get my knees checked. No, it's not because I am getting older (turning thirty does feel fantastic by the way). Thanks to all that hiking and running I did in my twenties, I have a nice bod but weak knees to go with it. I feel awful that I can't even go on a real run with my dog without being in pain. It truly is sad because I love, I mean looove running in the rain with her!
Anyway, back to the doctor's office- dressed in my pretty wavy skirt and knit top, I figured I was dressed appropriately- no need to lift up awfully long pants to my thighs for the exam. Little did I know I had to lift my damn knees for one of the x-rays! Ah ha. Had I not gotten so dark from all that summer sun, the specialist would have seen my embarrassed red face as I tried my hardest not to flash him. Then comes in the doctor. The true professional that he was, he didn't even bat an eye. He did the exam, suggested a bit of physical therapy to ease my pain and said I'd be back to running in no time. Phew.
Last weekend I went to Texas Roadhouse with a couple of my family members. They convinced me to try the steak, and I decided to give it a go. To save money, and because neither of us wanted a whole steak, my sister, Britney, and I decided to split one.
The waiter came along and asked for our order, and asked how we'd like it cooked. Britney piped up with "medium rare" as I was about to say "well-done", and I realized that it never occurred to us until the waiter arrived that we'd probably want it cooked differently. But I was outnumbered. The waiter and my family assured me that "medium-rare" was the best way to cook a steak 'cause the meat melts in your mouth. Really, melting meat is the best way you can convince me to try something new? The idea of meat melting in my mouth isn't as appetizing as you might think. I said okay, I'll do it your way, let's go ahead and cook it medium-rare.
My grandmother ran around the house getting everything ready. She looked like a chicken that just had its head cut off by a farmer and was now running around for the remainder of its little life. She may be our grandmother, but she’s momma to my brother and me. Her short curly wig stayed in perfect place despite all the chaos. I wondered if it was permanently attached the same way my Barbie’s hair was on her head.
My dear fellow Earthlings – can we stop Amtrak?
No, I don’t mean repeating Anna Karenina and throwing ourselves in front of the train, although I was tempted to confront their tree-chopping equipment the other day. Amtrak is cutting every tree that grows on their property, which amounts to miles and miles of trees – along the entire length of train tracks across the country.
Okay, get this: the average American spent 1,613 hours watching television in 2007. To completely understand this number we need to break that into days. So let's say the Average American cannot watch T.V. for 10 hours a day - maybe 12, but to be on the conservative side we'll use 10. Why can't they watch T.V. for 10 out of every 24 hours? They have to sleep for eight hours, drive for an hour or so, take a shower, go to the bathroom, and probably take out the trash or walk the dogs. Speaking only for myself, I do not have a T.V. in my shower, car, or driveway. If we agree that the maximum time a person can watch T.V. is 14 hours a day - and that is a stretch - then we can compute how many days Americans watch television. 1,613 hours of T.V. divided by 14 (hour days) equals 115 days of doing nothing else but watching television. Since there are 365 days in a year, that leaves 250 days left to do other things.
I thought it would be easy to go a mere 24 hours without using anything electronic. This included my laptop, my cell phone, television, movies, microwave, everything. The only exception was lights so I could read once it got dark out. But it wasn’t what happened.
I almost cracked a few minutes after waking up in the morning. I passed by my laptop on the way to the bathroom and it called to me like a long lost lover. All I had to do was lean over and push that little ON button. Then I would have my e-mail, my news sites, twitter and more. It took a few seconds to get control of myself and continue my trip to the bathroom – where I encountered my cell phone sitting there and staring at me like I was neglecting it. I felt like an addict. It got worse, it got way worse.
Last week, browsing the Craigslist for writing gigs as usual, I came across an ad that promised decent payments for 800-1200 words business articles if accepted by www.theglasshammer.com - an online publication designed for women executives in finance, law, business and other parts of the big corporation universe. I’m not a big fan of big corporation, actually to be truthful, I’m an anti-fan, but the name glass hammer made me think of a young spunky corporate rebel (maybe even with a tattoo or two) smashing a skyscraper’s window with a big heavy sledge and I liked the image. Maybe they were a new-age corporate website, I thought. Besides, in these tough times a freelance writer can’t be picky. I sent my resume.
Back came two replies, one from Melissa, one form Nicky. “Can you do an article on comparing CR and CSR as a test for us?” they asked. “What is the difference? Is there any?”
