Interesting Poll Results

Like the geek I am, I was listening to NPR this morning and heard about a new poll that shows the current political climate of the country. NPR surveyed the 50 most competitive Congressional District races in the country and showed that the pendulum is swinging in the other direction. Finally. I hate to say it, but, it's about time.

See the official results here.

Listen to the story here.

Enjoy!

Yogurt, it does a body good

I'm often approached in our neighborhood by men who wish to comment on my appearance. Yesterday, I was told by a Hispanic gentleman that I had a "pretty body." A couple of weeks ago a mailman drove by and stuck his head out of the car window to yell, "I wish I could deliver your mail!"

Even though I've grown somewhat accustomed to the attention given to me from these men, it still surprises me when it happens. Confusion (who me?) is followed by disbelief which then turns into mild embarrassment which causes me to make a gesture of bowing my head and shuffling into a dark corner to hide.

It happened again today. I was at the grocery store (the scene of most of my weird encounters) perusing the dairy aisle when a man approached me. He was a middle aged man who was pushing his nearly empty cart while talking to his friend, another middle aged man. He stopped and turned toward me while pushing his sunglasses a little further down on his nose.

"No wonder you look so good," he said surveying my cart. "All you eat is yogurt."

"Thanks, I like yogurt," was my feeble reply as I turned to keep walking down the aisle.

"I ain't tryin' to get fresh with ya," he continued. "I mean, I don't mean no disrespect or nothin', but tell your husband he should be thankin' his lucky stars he gets to be with you."

"Oh, I'll tell him," I said and hurried to get away so I could find a dark corner. Only, I still had some more shopping to do. I had just a few more items to pick up, but it seemed at the end of every aisle, there he was. I don't think he was following me, however, and after our akward encounter we just pretended like we hadn't had one.

Somehow I managed to get out of the store without any further bizarre comments being thrown my way. I have to admit though, as I put the yogurt away in my fridge once I got home, the whole thing gave me a chuckle.

See you on the Court

My husband and I have always tried to find athletic activities we could both do together and actually enjoy. So far we've agreed on hiking.

So for my birthday last week, my husband gave me a tennis racket. He grew up on the courts and has longed for someone to stand on the other side of the net and hit the tennis ball back to him. I, on the other hand, haven't ever set foot on one, unless you count the time in 8th grade that my friend's dad took us to the court at his country club and proceeded to humiliate us in front of all of his friends.

So, yesterday morning my husband and I had a date to hit the tennis courts. Bright and early, with my pink tennis rack in hand, we headed over to the courts in the park across the street. My husband went over the basics (forehand, backhand, serving, the rules of the game) and we got to playing. Impatient by nature, I immediately attempted to serve, throwing caution to the wind.

My comfort with the court increased and pretty soon I was keeping extra tennis balls in the waistband of my shorts and grunting like Maria Sharapova. Tennis pros, look out, here I come.

When we got back to the apartment I was feeling pretty good about picking up the game so fast, my husband's comments only fueling the fire. The discussion then turned to the couple who was playing on the court next to ours. They were similar in age and it seemed as though the male counterpart was teaching the female how to play as well. My confidence got ahead of me.

"I don't really think she has was what it takes," I blurted out to my husband.

The look of absolute horror on his face said it all.

"I mean..." I stammered, but what was said, was said.

So those in my neighborhood beware. I'll be back on the courts tomorrow.

Mi Media Naranja

Since this is the second anniversary of marrying my amazing husband, I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to write a gushy, sappy post. (Thank you for indulging me.)

I feel so lucky to have found someone in the world who understands me and loves me so well. I believe there is nothing greater than to love and be loved honestly and unabashedly with the entirety of your being. Having found this kind of love, everything else in life is colored differently - tragedy becomes less dire, celebrations more jubilant.

Thank you husband, for allowing me to be myself and for giving of yourself so selflessly. You truly are mi media naranja.

A Relieving Rainfall

I awoke this morning to a rumble from the sky. It was still dark when it should have been light and the air was curiously cool. I inhaled the smell of crisp vapor into my lungs and listened as the drops splattered the ground outside my open window.



The people, as well as the land, needed this cleansing. The heat, the humidity and the dryness have pushed both to their breaking point. The ground was brown and thirsty, the people tired and worn. But now that the rain has finally fallen, a quiet gratitude blankets the city and all are at peace.

One Hot Dog

Proof that I'm not the only one that thinks its hot outside. (Don't worry - I gave him some ice water five minutes after I subjected him to this photo shoot.)

Dubble Bubble, Toil and Trouble

I'm a person who likes theories. And I'm a person who likes to come up with them. Some of my theories are more far fetched like the one I have about JFK, however, most of them are harmless observations about human behavior. For instance, I have a theory that we are all allotted only so many words in the day and that the moment you exceed your individual quota your mouth will forbid them to come out in the right order, no matter how hard you try.

Another theory I have about quotas and allotments concerns the amount of patience in the world. I believe there is only so much to go around in the course of the day and once it's gone, it's gone. Today I think someone used it all up pretty early on.

Standing in lines has never been my cup of tea and today, given the lack of patience available to me in the universe, it nearly sent me over the edge.

The first line was at a large evil chain store where I had gone in search of something to cool off my insufferably hot apartment. I have this theory about lines; the one with the least number of people in it will get you out of the door the fastest. Although my theories have proved untrue a time or two.

So, there was a sweet elderly lady and her husband who had been rung up already and only needed to pay for their items so I thought it was the perfect qeue. Oh, how I was wrong. The dance between checkbook and patron and cashier and reciept took a full ten minutes. I was forced to throw a Diet Mountain Dew in my pile due to the exertion of standing in one place for so long.

The second line was later in the day at the grocery store. The woman checking out in front of me only had a few items and so did I so I thought, "Man, I lucked out." Well let me tell you, man, I did NOT luck out. The cashier held up a bag filled with Dubble Bubble and asked the woman, "How many do you have?"

"What do you mean?" asked the woman. "Don't you weigh that stuff by the pound?"

"Um, no we don't," replied the clerk. "It's 5 cents a piece. So how many?"

"I guess I'll have to count."

So we all waited while the woman slowly counted each and every individually wrapped gumball and set them on the checkout counter. "1...2...3...4.......61...62...63." Sixty-three gumballs scattered all over the place.

"That will be $3.15," said the cashier and then she moved on to the rest of the woman's items.

What couldn't have been more than 20 seconds later a plump young boy of 10 years, chocolate smeared all over his face, ran up to the woman who was his mom. He was holding a bag of individually wrapped chocolates.

Somehow I made it out of the store with all of my grocery items in my brown paper bag and my mouth tightly shut. I guess some of that patience got passed my way after all.

Thank you Global Warming

When my husband and I made the move from the hot arid desert of the west to the Great White North we didn't think that heat would be a problem we would have to worry about anymore. Cold, yes, but heat? It couldn't possibly be a concern. Could it?

Turns out it can get hot in Minnesota. Not just uncomfortable, glad I wore shorts hot, but the kind of oppressive heat that makes you seriously consider why people ever go outside anymore.

From the wonderful air-conditioned car (best purchase I ever made) to the air-conditioned cafe I am now sitting in I got sunburned. It was a 25 foot walk. We decided to seek shelter because our apartment doesn't have any air-conditioning. I know. I know.

One of my coworkers was venting yesterday about the insane 100 degree heat (without factoring in the heat index or humidity) and said, "I mean, I can't imagine anyone getting through this alive without AC."

I meekly raised my hand and said,

"Actually..."

So we left ice cubes in Harper's water dish and all the fans on high and we fled the hot box we call home for a couple of hours to lavish in a place where we are not melting into the floor. And, I must say, we probably won't be leaving anytime soon.