Showing posts from September, 2009

But Maaaahhhmmm

My mother lives some several thousand miles away. I would google map it, but I bet it can't give me directions to The Gambia. She's far away, working to maintain US relations with the tiny African country. Go mom. Love her bunches and am prouder than I can describe.
But she has a few little things that she do that leave me dumbfounded. Last night I was shopping at, loaded up my shopping cart and hit "Purchase" ... expecting questions about billing to pop up ... not so much. About 2:30 a.m., I get an email from mom, "Did you order from Amazon..."
Apparently she was still signed in on my computer. Opps. She said the purchase could be a gift for all I've done for her lately... refinancing her house, running errands, plumbers, etc. I do do a lot, but she changed my diapers, so who can say no? I love my mom deeper than anyone else in the whole world. More than myself and the boys. It's nights like this when I miss her the most and wish I could ju…

One of Them Days

I was so excited to have lunch with Amy today - if you don't know Mrs. Dilocker, you should. She's a breath of fresh air! For some reason she thinks I'm the bee's knees, too. She calls me a local celebrity and I secretly love it while publicly poo-pooing it. But as we're paying our bill today, the cashier goes to me, "Do you write a column?"

And so the conversation goes - her gushing over my fabulousness and me rushing to get her to fan me on Facebook. Okay, the first part isn't true, but my actions were. I wrote it all out on the back of a receipt and can't wait to see if she fans me. :)

Then I had to go to the post office to mail my mom her box of goods. I do this about every two months - for eight years now. The post office guy knows me because of this. I hand over the box and ask for a book of Simpson stamps. Love me some Simpsons. And he goes, "So, what do you think ..." and my mind starts to race - ohhh! Let's talk F…

My Hefty Dog and Cheese

Yep - another Dog Blog Jake was put on a diet in the spring - told to lose 5 pounds. At 27 pounds that was a tough mandate. But if we could get him to 22, it'd be better for his heart. And BONUS, he and Poncho would be in the same "weight range" for their monthly medications.
At his appointment today, he weighed 21.7 pounds. My little chunk is now svelte. He reports that his self-esteem, which has always been a touch low, has peaked and that he enjoys playing basketball the other neighborhood dogs. His ear is still crazy.
I nod in acceptance of his delusions. Poncho, on the other hand, weighs in at 14 pounds and has never had an esteem issue. He has more confidence in his soul than most teenage girls.
On another note ... enjoyed the weekend in Louisville with my Ohio friends: Amy, Angela, and Helka. It's amazing how with some friends you can be apart for years and it doesn't matter. That's how it is with these girls. They're funny and accepting. Who could as…

One More Thing

Dear Jay Leno,

I love you. Who else could ask Kanye (sp?) how his mom would feel about that - and literally shame in to humiliation him so politely.

You go Jay.

Just like you did with Hugh Grant, "What in the hell were you thinking?"

Biggest Loser

Okay - Season 8 here we go.

In the first hour I've cried and yelled more than I have at anything in the last few months. The stories break my heart. The excuses infuriate me.

They had to finish a mile (run or walk). The first person crossed in about 14:27. On a good day, I can clock an 8:40 mile. Because I choose it. I can do three miles in about 28 minutes on the road and 26 on the treadmill. I push and exhaust myself. Because I want to. I want it more than anything in the world - to run fast as my body will allow. But it's not just running, it's more. Exercise is an aggressionreliever. It's a way of life.

After watching the trainers, I have to just pause and thank Tyrone for:
1. Never making me yell out my weight when I was at my "humiliation point of wanting to quit" - especially during the ball toss thing when snot pours out of my nose.
2. Just not yelling at me in general, but instead just looking with disappointment when I want to quit ... esp. that starfish…

99 Columns ...

Tonight I'm organizing my columns ... six years of my life written in 600-700 word segments.

As part of the Book Dreams prep, I'm sorting them into three categories: Just Life, Personal Growth (need a new title .... ohhh Pearls of Wisdom), and Relationships.

I counted them up and can't believe the little gift God gave me ... the coincidence of 99 columns at the same time I'm embarking on this mission. In all honesty, there are about four that won't make it into the book because they're about Connect or such ... so I have 99 columns ready for editing, revising, adoration, and publication.

I just love that my 100th column will signal a new start in my life ... which is EXACTLY what my last column alluded to at the end. Of course I had no flippin' clue what was ahead when I wrote it.

Here's my last column, in case you missed it... AND I KNOW THE SECOND WORD HAS A TYPO ! :)

In all my life, I don't remember being…

Working It From Home

I stepped off the elevator an onto the third floor. I felt the heat immediately then remembered the email from Friday: the air conditioner was out ... and would be until mid-Monday. Now those of you who don't live in the South may wonder why in the world we'd run the AC in mid-September. Because it's fucking hot. That's why. It's hot until October. Then fall slaps you like a bitch and it's long-sleeves and jeans until March. Yep - screw you cold season. SKA-REW YOU. Dressed in a cotton shirt and thick pants, I gasped, "Oh hell no." It was like a sauna. I called my boss to remind her about the situation and then told her I'd be packing up my things and working at home. I carry all my files on my laptop - so this is easy. I'd hate to think what people in the olden days did. You know, the olden days before the Internet. They'd probably sit and sweat. Not me. I may not mind lugging coolers, herding cats, collecting recycling, etc. on program …

Frantic Frog 09

This morning, Team Body Glide put forth a magnificent effort at the Frantic Frog Triathlon, finishing fourth! Cheryl, in the pink, biked; Brandi, in the middle swam; and I ran. The weather was lovely to start - overcast and about 66 degrees. Jake and Poncho came to cheer - but stayed in the car when momma went for her run. Next year, we're going to train and kick butt!

Eight Years?

Three years ago I wrote this column:

It still rings true. Amazing how some things never change. :(

Magic Shrinking Pill

I signed up for back in early summer. It has been anything but successful. It's been a humorous, humbling, and eye-opening. But today it was just damn puzzling.

I'd been emailing a guy who vanished about a week ago. This morning I get an email that says: The only reason I haven't contacted you is because our height is so close. However, it won't bother me if it doesn't you. :) Do I sound pitiful enough??? :)

Really? I grab the tape measure - 70 inches in bare feet. That's 5' 10", which is what I stated on my profile, as did he.

I really want to reply to him, but don't how to say what needs to be said or what to say. My body is my biggest insecurity and height can't be changed. I can do side bends and sit ups ... (name the tune!)

So this leads me to my points:

1. What?
2. Huh?
3. Really?
4. You're picking one of the things I can't change (nor ever had any control over) and are telling me that it is what's holding you back from mee…

Strawberries with Syrup

Yesterday morning I was slicing strawberries for breakfast when I realized I wanted more than just fruit. But what? Pancakes ... yum. Pancakes. I pulled the mix out of the cupboard. Even though it had long expired I went on with my mission: pancakes with fresh fruit and some maple syrup. Yum.

I whipped up the batch and it looked normal. I poured a scoopful on the hot pan and it oozed in every direction. "This doesn't look right," I said. I pulled out the spatula and tried to morph the mixture into a circle. Instead it looked like a tipped out trapezoid. "Beginners bad luck" I said as I tossed it into the trash. The second, third and fourth followed the same pattern. "Crap."

Visions of brunch at my aunt's house danced through my head. "How does Bob do this?" I continued to try. And they either ended up grainy, spread, or burnt. I thought maybe, just maybe the final one (# 7) would work. Wrong. By this time I was famish…

The Things We Can Change

Feeling a little bit like a diva this week, I started to get full of myself and made a mental list of things I'd demand if I really were important.

1. At Starbucks, I'd demand that the sugar dispenser actually poured more than five grams at once. I love sugar in my coffee ... but the sugar dispensers are ALWAYS clogged. The other day I decided to be proactive and just unscrewed the top...Classic Allison moment coming ... as I was lightly pouring the sugar, a block of it, about the size of a golf ball, fell into the dark abyss.

2. Someone else would pick up my dogs' shit. I love them, but it gags me. I also love Mike Rowe (Dirty Jobs), and was thrilled to see a special on TV this morning with him ... but it was the Crap Special. I gagged and turned it off. The sight of that georgous man with his hand up a cow's ass with so emasculating. I couldn't watch.

3. The dogs wouldn't track in cut grass. Or eat it. The former causes me to sweep two-three times a day. The lat…

TLC on Sunday Nights

Last night, as I was forcing myself to stay awake to watch Mad Men, I kept flipping over to TLC. While TLC is usually a great mental vacation, on Sunday nights it's ... uhm ... how do I say this politely? On Sunday nights, TLC is a horrific reminder of the following things:

1. We are a fat nation
2. I'm not as fat as I think I am
3. Self-control is a novelty item
4. Visit Texas if you want to feel thin

Last night's shows were: The Half-Ton Mom, The 500-pound Virgin, The 1,000-pound Dad ... Part of me is sympathetic to these people. But another part (and much larger) understands that we make the choices that lead us to the lives we have. To get one guy out of the house, they had to cut a hole in the wall of his home, then they transported him on one of those carts you use to Home Depot for lumber. Oh the HUMANITY!

Rather than flipping back and forth, I got on the floor and did some abs. Then, in complete contradiction to my horror, I decided the dogs needed new food an…

AHH THree-Day Weekend

Grey skies hang above this Saturday morning. I should have gotten up to run, but the sleep felt great. And let's face it - I can run when I'm dead.

I have incredibly vivid dreams. Last night it was about random dogs, Thanksgiving, and even the Dilockers made a guest appearance. My dogs were running the neighborhood, Jason and Amy were strolling with a whole posse, and a random dog appeared. I spent the majority of the dream trying to dial the phone to call its owner, but never got through.

With new phones we can't call (256) ARD-KHUB. Know what I mean? If I tried to call that # it'd really be something like *35':_!.

This dialing drama theme is quite frequent in my dreams. Think about how easy it is to place a call - and how often we do it. But in my dreams, it is impossible. I either can't find the digits on the phone, can't get the number (continually misplace it), or get distracted.

I completely believe that dreams are a way for your soul to commun…

Getting away with it

It's Friday. I'm tired. I love my sleeping pills, but some mornings they don't love me. This is one of those days. I'm lethargic, sluggish, and a bit devilish.

Basking in the glow of winning Finalist of Young Professional of the Year, I want to see what I can get away with at the office.

Thoughts dance through my head as I ask myself, "What would be the worst thing I could do without getting fired?"

Standing in front of my closet, the answer comes to me ...JEANS! Ohhh wouldn't that be fantastic? Denim in the house of economic development. If I could hide long enough, or just not stand, I could totally get away with it. This means no lunch out of office, no restroom breaks, no hopping up to help anyone.

Jeans! You fashion folly you! The voice of reason set in...could you really go all day without peeing? My humble attempt at rebelling was squashed.

I opted for white carpi pants that are two sizes too big; a grey patterned shirt that is too small, thus revealing…

Here We Go

It's creeping up on 10 p.m. and I must get to bed. But today I emailed with a book person - thanks to Sarah Lauren. She asked if I had a blog ... uh, no. Isn't that what Facebook Notes is for? Not really. Here goes.

I have given up drinking. Just until the holidays. And when I go on vacation. Really I've just given up drinking in the state of Alabama. I made this promise to myself last Friday. I broke it on Tuesday. Four days. Yep - that's how long it lasted. Now it's day two of sober Allison.

We'll see how long this lasts.


On Tuesday, I had reason to drink - it was the Small Business Awards and I was up for Young Professional of the Year. Out of about 20 people, I was one of three finalists. I didn't get the ultimate title, but I am totally fine with it.

After listening to many people smile and say, "It should have been you..." I realized I was the reason it wasn't. The winner, my friend Olly, can sell ice to an eskimo. I can't sell …