Where is the Love?

**Note: usually on Mondays I would post a weekend in collage, but I have been editing this silly post for darn near a week, and I'm sick of looking at it. So, I needed to post it before I drove myself crazy.**

There is nothing quite like people-watching at the arrivals lobby at the airport. I love seeing people waiting with anticipation and excitement as they wait for their loved ones to come up the escalator, and the utter joy that crosses their face as they finally connect after their time apart.

Last Sunday, I got to be one of those eager beavers as I was down at the airport waiting to pick up hubs. He had been out of the country at a conference for about a week hobnobbing with some bigwigs in his field. It had been a long week of silence with only being able to exchange a few emails. Time changes, internet outages, and bogus fees all prevented actual live conversation, and if you know my hubs, then you know that the silence was deafening. And, lord, do I love my dogs, but they just weren’t cutting it as a hubs substitute. I truly believe they only tolerated me because I was the only one left to feed them. But I digress.

When I arrived at the airport, I realized that I would have ample time to witness these happy reunions as Delta Tracker had failed to inform me that hubs’s plane would be landing later than scheduled. Like a whole hour later. So, I settled in and watched as wave after wave of passengers came up the escalators. There were hugs, there were kisses, and there were some tears, but overall, there was just happiness. I. was. luurrving. it. (Sidenote: Let me just clarify that while I love the love, what I don't love is the out of control PDA). And then it all came crashing down.

There were a couple of kids standing next to me waiting for their dad. To say they were excited would be an understatement. They were jumping up and down and nearly bowled him over when he appeared. When they finally let him come up for some air, the adult female (which I can only assume was his wife) barely glanced at him before turning and walking towards baggage claim. Way harsh. I shivered from the icy cold wind that had blown through. Now, I don’t want to judge, ‘cause I don’t know what was in her head. And it could very well be that she was just distracted with the logistics of keeping her sanity while trying to navigate baggage claim with two excited children and getting home. But sheesh, not even managing a hug or a smile? It reminded me of those couples that I wrote about earlier that I spy on see at restaurants just sitting there not smiling, not talking, looking everywhere else but their companion. It’s just so sad to see. Where is the love? You are married to this person, for Pete's sake.

I don’t proclaim to be a marriage expert after only 3 years and 10 months of marriage, but I can safely guess that being in a marriage where spouses act as if it’s a chore to be married; is not fun. Doesn't it take more energy to hold on to all the negativity than not? Why not use that energy for more fun purposes, like adult-rated fun purposes? (Sorry, parentals and parentals-in-law). Talk about getting some aggression and stress out. If you did that, then you probably wouldn't treat your spouse as an after-thought. Just sayin’.

Shortly after my awe at the happy airport arrivals reunions had been thoroughly sqaushed like a bug on a windshield, hubs made his appearance. Was I going to throw caution to the wind and become one of those PDA exhibitionists that I gag at in an attempt to make up for the lack of love that I had just witnessed? Heck, no! I may love the hubs, but I'm not about to maul him in front of complete strangers! But, I will say that hubs definitely wasn't disappointed.

So, what about you, people of the interwebz? What's your favorite people-watching moment at the airport?

This Weekend in Collage

This Weekend in Collage by kimberlina13

A Note and Some Shameless Begging

As you can see, I have made some changes to the previous post. Apparently, I ended up having a lot more to say on both of the topics that allowed them to stand alone on their own. So, they have been separated into two.

Now, for the shameless begging part. I would really love for you readers to leave me comments. I already know what I think, I want to know what you think. There is always room for improvement, and I need for you guys to tell me where it should happen. Help me, help you. I want you to keep reading and invite others to read, and you won't if it's sucky. Also, feel free to "follow" me as well. I've got one, and I'd like to see her have some company.

Thank you, that is all.

Superheroes Need Help Too

This is my brother. The one on the right. The one on the left is also my brother, but not the one I am referring to today.

 
This is my brother running, swimming, and bike riding an insane amount of miles, unfortunately, I was unable to steal locate a suitable swimming pic.

I'm talking crazy insane triple digit mileage. He logs more miles in one training session than I do in my WEEKLY commute. Crazy bastard. But, he's doing it for a really good reason. He's going to compete in the Ford Ironman Arizona this November with his Team in Training IronTeam. For those of you who haven't heard of Team in Training, it is an organization that trains athletes for an endurance sporting event while the athletes, in turn, raise money that goes to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society for cancer research. My brother, Kevin, has set a personal goal to raise $6,600, and he has raised about 40% of this total.

I know that we are all financially strapped these days with the economy being what it is, but if you could spare anything, I would love it if you would consider donating to this great cause. I imagine right about now, "girl, you must be outside your mind" is running through your head, plus a couple of curses. However, even though you may have never met my brother, you've more than likely met me, and I like to think that I'm pretty awesome, and that makes him awesome by association. Seriously, though, he is an awesome big brother and person, and I would love to see him succeed in this endeavor that he has poured his heart, soul, blood, sweat, and tears into for well over a year. I am so proud of what he has already accomplished, to do this would be just amazing. Here is his fundraising page. Just remember, as you consider making a contribution, TAX-DEDUCTIBLE.

Twitterazzi

Let's talk about Twitter. Let's talk about my fascination with celebrities. Let's talk about Twitter and my fascination with celebrities. I think you can see where I am going with this. At first, I just didn't get Twitter. I had Facebook. I had MySpace. Hell, I even had Friendster. Why did I need to add to the nightmare, especially with a character limit. Limit myself? Quel nightmare. Then I came across Clever Girl Goes Blog and her post showing Bravo Network's Andy Cohen responding to her tweet. Color me jealous. This was better than getting an autograph. This was acknowledgement and actual response, practically BFF. And so, my quest began. Rachael, Giada, Mario, Adam Richman, Anthony, Tom Hanks, Ron Howard, just to name a few, all added to my following list in the course of 10 minutes. I even started formulating strategies to optimize my chances of getting a response. For example, food questions for the foodies/chefs.

Weeks went by, and I was low on hope. Nobody was biting. Then I hit paydirt. Movie studios announce that Dirty Dancing was being remade, and the general public reaction was not good, ugly even. I knew. Knew. KNEW. that if I brought this up to one of my celebrities that I would get an answer. So, I threw it out to the universe, specifically, Bethany Joy Galeotti, television actress/director and general creative genius extraordinaire. Ya'll don't know how badly I had to squash my inner need for instant gratification in waiting for a reply. The hours passed, and I grew more despondent. Almost 24 hours later, and I had given up hope. Damn, what was it gonna take?! Then, while checking my Twitter feed, I see this:

What?! Why didn't I get an email notification?! Why isn't it showing up on my profile?! PANIC! Of course, just my luck, the one time I get a reply, my username is mucked up. So it's like I don't get credit, cause it doesn't show up anywhere on my page. Now, I am racking my brain. I want the world to know that I have been acknowledged, dammit! Der. Retweet. Hyperventilation prevented. Not ideal, but I'll take what I can get. I don't even care that she disagreed with me. She talked to me. Total BFFs.
And so, my quest continues. Some may think that it's non-sensical, as evidenced by hubs's reaction to my news that I got Haley from One Tree Hill to talk to me, "why would you even ask her that or even care about her opinion?" Silly hubs. Go back to your statistical software and academic journals.

Some final thoughts on Twitter:
Waste of time? Perhaps.
Crazy/obsessive/stupid? Some would think so.
Worth it to be online BFF with a celebrity? Abso-freakin-lutely.

It's the little things in life, people.

This Weekend in Collage

This Weekend in Collage by kimberlina13

Just Not Feelin' It

A few months ago, hubs got me started on a weight lifting regimen that totally kicks my butt. Throw in a bi-weekly dance class, and I am starting to see some results.


I have to do this because I was not blessed with a magic metabolism that allows me to eat anything I want and not see any of the effects.  I also realize that my love for these foods will probably never allow me to ever be high school skinny again, and I am okay with that. I do, however, have to make sure that I am active enough to counterbalance that love. So every Tuesday and Saturday, I faithfully work my way through squats, bench presses, overhead presses, dead lifts, and rows. Increasing the weight each session to get the maximum benefit possible. Sundays and Wednesdays are dedicated to satisfying my inner ballerina and stretching out the effects from Saturday and Tuesday.

But there are days where I just seem to hit a wall and really struggle to get through the routine or down to class. Those days, I am just not feelin' it.  Where the thought of being out in the 90+ degree garage, racking and unracking weights, and punishing my body or getting dressed and driving 20 minutes to the studio cannot compete with the call of the couch and my U-verse remote. But the guilt sets in, and I pull my tush off the couch,  only to have a terrible session or class. I can't complete sets, increasing the weight by even 5 lbs feels like adding 50, and hell, even the ipod is giving me trouble with its "random" song selection or I can't bend as far as I did the previous class or that whole balance thing is just off.


The part that really bites though is that every time this happens, I know it's all mental. Obviously, my body can handle it, but my head just won't cooperate. C'mon head! Don't you know that nothing comes between me and pasta and cheese?!


Usually, hubs is there to suffer with encourage me as we take turns when it's a lifting day, but our schedules as of late have not allowed for it, which I suspect is a major contributing factor. No accountability= high temptation to be lazy. There's no motivation like your incredibly in shape spouse asking if you're sure that you want to skip.

I'd like to think that these days are just my subconscious's way of telling me to take a day off, but lately it seems more like the devil on my shoulder telling me to skip.  Either way it would be really nice to just be able to tell it to please be quiet so that I can get through my workout/class well so that I can enjoy my carbs and fat.