Archive for the ‘yuck’ Category

Home-owning hazard no. 1

As a recent homeowner, I have more than my share of new responsibilities. One of which is my newly acquired landscape. I’m pretty much used to balcony gardens from my apartment renting days, which is basically just potted plants and wind-chimes. Now I have full on greenery that stretches farther than just a few steps and all the nuisances that comes with it. Namely: wildlife.

This morning I was watering the front yard and a flurry of dragonflies, bees, butterflies and dirt-dobbers were abound. I tried not to swat at bees of course, as a gardening friend of mine had warned me before so I just went along my merry way, watering and sweating up a storm. But at one point I saw/felt something scurry up my leg…

I squealed of course and jumped back. I did a little wiggle and shook my leg. I thought what had decided to set up camp in my pants had flown away because the next thing I saw was a bug (bee? wasp?) fly overhead. I was at ease thinking I no longer had a visitor in my jeans. But then I felt a scampering in a place I shall not disclosed.  I quickly ran into the house and dropped trough. Sure enough a little gecko scampering out and into the bathroom. Yes folks. A lizard was in my pants. I ran to find something to catch it with. My cat Tiger Lily seemed amused. She didn’t go after him though and just when I though she was at least going to swat at it, my little friend (I now shall call him Frankie) ran behind the sink cabinet.

I got a towel and closed the bathroom door. I put the towel in front of the door to block Frankie if he tried to get out. Then I waited about 45 minutes, grabbed Lily and we went hunting again. This time Frankie was on the wall and I knocked him down with a broom. Lily just stared at him as I tried to scoop him up into a container but alas, he ran back to his hiding place. He’s probably still there…

I talked to my friend and others who basically said having a little gecko in the house can be a good thing — they kill spiders and such. Plus (if Lily ever figures out to attack him) Frankie can be some good protein for my cat. So now we wait…and next time I water the yard, I will wear a long dress. Sure it may make it an easier route, but at least then if it happens again, I can shake Frankie off with one jump.

Day 72: Wipe down your equipment

wipe-down-your-equipment.jpgI’ve started counting calories…reluctantly.

The working out has been steady but I’ve been under the delusion that I’ve been eating the right portions of everything. Wrong. Of course wrong! I’ve been counting calories for a little more than a week and have already lost enough inches for the owner of this cafe across the street from my job to ask, “Have you lost weight?”

I didn’t just jump on this calorie thing. I did it kicking and screaming until my mother bought and gave me several books to help me along. And some notebooks to keep track. I’m staying at no more than 2,000 calories and I’ve done quite well. It doesn’t even annoy me that much anymore and I’ve lost a few of my hard and fast cravings: burgers, pizza…Sonic slushes. Wait. Now that I’ve typed that I need to find the calorie count for one because a slush suddenly sounds good…

Anyway, my mother has noted my progress. She is concerned for me because I’ve been so concerned. Because of medication and a thyroid disorder, she has trouble with her weight. In fact she is very good at managing food intake and now I’m in training. I’m only a pound away from dropping under the dreaded weight I am now which, no matter how disclosing I am here, I will never share. At least not until I am well below it.

Because of overdoing the reception on Saturday and dancing all night, I haven’t hit the gym. I am only just now nearly 100 percent from having all that nausea. I don’t think a hangover lasts that long and I’m now convinced I got food poisoning from the all of six bites of Chinese food I had that night after the club. Or maybe it’s because I haven’t been doing that kind of food and my body went into shock. Don’t know.

The last time I went to the gym my favorite treadmill was covered in snot and spit. No lie! It was like someone was so determined to finish their miles that they didn’t care they had an upper-respiratory infection or other funky health issue in the process. It was so sick I almost didn’t work out. But instead I grabbed on to the very dry elliptical machine and tried not to heave. I don’t know why I shared that except to give warning to all of you who work out and like to grab onto those heart-rate bars like I do. Never again.