As per my earlier determination, I've been virtuous and attempted to stay busy all day with cleaning and other last-minute details before I head up to the Salt Lake aeroport tomorrow evening to go pick up Sebastian. Part of this determination included attacking the upstairs floors. The carpets - in a shameful state, thanks in part to Scott's neglect to clean any dirt not on his clothes - and the hardwood required heavy reinforcements. Unable to call in the aid of the dust mop, I had to content myself with sweeping and then mopping the floor. Of course, the fact that I didn't quite trust any of the mops left me with the option of going hands-and-knees with a damp cloth like Cinderella. Of course, Cinderella didn't have an iPod to keep her occupied whilst cleaning, she could only sing her own renditions of the songs her step-sisters were butchering upstairs. Not to mention, I don't think Cinderella ever really got her cleaning groove on to anything like Celia Cruz or Justin Timberlake. (Wait, what did I just admit to?)
The poor laundry machine is probably begging me for a rest, and considering its admirable service record for the day, I'm inclined to grant it a brief furlough. I must admit that this is one of the perks to having procrastinated a good deal of the work I had to do for the coming fortnight: I now have enough to keep me sufficiently occupied until the time comes to scuttle off to Salt Lake City tomorrow. Sehr fantastisch.
On to bigger and better things now that my Subway-fuelled break is over: tackling the kitchen in what may become a struggle of Iliadic proportions. Clearly, in this ill-conceived metaphor I am Achilles and the kitchen can be Hector...or perhaps just Pandarus so there are fewer casualties.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Yoghurt on the Rocks
This was quite the nice afternoon. V and I have a very good friend - Chip - with whom we definitely haven't spent enough time since getting back into Provo. So at the Munch-n-Mingle after church last Sunday, the four of us (including Chip's brother Jon) decided to fix that by going hiking in Rock Canyon and then grabbing some snazzy frozen yoghurt. Yum!
I decided to forgo my usual pathetic three-mile jog/run since we'd be getting in some decent work on the hike. Of course, I could have been super virtuous and done both, but then I was a bit demoralised by my last attempt at a run. Since free gym time ended, it had been 4 days since my last go around with the stair master to keep me in shape. Factor in the heat and a slightly more grueling pace than usual and I was walking right around mile two. Complete with proverbial tail between legs: this was worse than normal for someone used to climbing 3-4 miles of stairs a day.
The hike, though, was fantastic. V, Chip, and I (Jon was at work) did something between 4 and 5 miles all round, including several meanders to a small cave (complete with deflated air mattress...) and over the "river" (read: big creek) on a very dubious-looking felled-log bridge. The whole thing was a fantastic time, and quite the nice exercise. The very scenic nature of the trail certainly helped matters as well. I've decided it must be revisited with different company next week. :-)
The frozen yoghurt place that we visited with Jon after the hike was, likewise, fantastic. I was already sold when the giggle-worthy name of the establishment turned out to be Spoon Me. The mod 60s decor and tasty toppings for the yoghurt had me hooked at first glance and bite, and the napkins and t-shirts just made a fun adendum to the whole thing.
Their napkins read: "Hey Baby. My name is ______ and I really like your ______. Would you like to Spoon Me?" There is then a spot for the object of your cheeky napkin-sent message to check one of two bubbles: "sure, I'd love to" or "um, no thanks." Brilliant.
Thankfully, the generally rainy weather of late held off for our whole stint outside, though it has since grown ominous and windy yet again. At least, though, the rain has kept temperatures around here unseasonably cool, which made the hike vastly more tolerable than if the sun had been beating down on us mercilessly like an Egyptian task master from The Ten Commandments the whole time. It's certainly an experience to be repeated.
I decided to forgo my usual pathetic three-mile jog/run since we'd be getting in some decent work on the hike. Of course, I could have been super virtuous and done both, but then I was a bit demoralised by my last attempt at a run. Since free gym time ended, it had been 4 days since my last go around with the stair master to keep me in shape. Factor in the heat and a slightly more grueling pace than usual and I was walking right around mile two. Complete with proverbial tail between legs: this was worse than normal for someone used to climbing 3-4 miles of stairs a day.
The hike, though, was fantastic. V, Chip, and I (Jon was at work) did something between 4 and 5 miles all round, including several meanders to a small cave (complete with deflated air mattress...) and over the "river" (read: big creek) on a very dubious-looking felled-log bridge. The whole thing was a fantastic time, and quite the nice exercise. The very scenic nature of the trail certainly helped matters as well. I've decided it must be revisited with different company next week. :-)
The frozen yoghurt place that we visited with Jon after the hike was, likewise, fantastic. I was already sold when the giggle-worthy name of the establishment turned out to be Spoon Me. The mod 60s decor and tasty toppings for the yoghurt had me hooked at first glance and bite, and the napkins and t-shirts just made a fun adendum to the whole thing.
Their napkins read: "Hey Baby. My name is ______ and I really like your ______. Would you like to Spoon Me?" There is then a spot for the object of your cheeky napkin-sent message to check one of two bubbles: "sure, I'd love to" or "um, no thanks." Brilliant.
Thankfully, the generally rainy weather of late held off for our whole stint outside, though it has since grown ominous and windy yet again. At least, though, the rain has kept temperatures around here unseasonably cool, which made the hike vastly more tolerable than if the sun had been beating down on us mercilessly like an Egyptian task master from The Ten Commandments the whole time. It's certainly an experience to be repeated.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Free Time Breeds Laziness
Well, it's official: I'm absolutely backwards. I can manage to find the time to keep the blog nicely updated with snappy rhetoric and nice pictures, it seems, only when my schedule is swamped with the stagnant water of never-ending commitments. Give me free time in any appreciable quantity and I go off it almost instantaneously. Not, I may add, that I have anything "better" to do with the time, I just tend to let everything other than the gym, movies, and the occasional cleaning spree slip quietly off the radar. In "Hunt for Red October" I would have been the ship captain who remained convinced that Mancusoe was chasing a seismic anomaly and not Sean Connery and Sam Neill in a Russian submarine. It would mean that I had more time to stand on the flight deck of the set and get my hair whipped in the artifical wind whilst I found the most attractive way to shout all my lines at the extras.
(A phantom Russian submarine? Only if I get some good close-ups of my devistatingly attractive, yet appropriately tense profile.)
At least, though, I can console myself with some rather committed gym attendance. Mum ran - well, walked really, since her joints are so bad - a 3k for heart disease awareness the other week, and as part of the congratulations pack, received a pass to take a free week at the local gym. Since I'm home all day with naught to do but bake unnecessarily copious quantities of muffins, watch old Top Gear episodes, and start on paperwork for graduate school, she took pity on my lethargy and gave the pass to me. Victoire! I now had something to occupy me for at least another hour-and-a-half out of the day. Perhaps this will yeild nothing more than reading fewer chapters of "On Her Majesty's Secret Service" this week, but I do hope for more.
I've toyed with the idea all the past week of actually taking advantage of the fact that the gym has a proper lap pool. I think today, I shall put that idea into practise. Perhaps it won't seem like arduous gut-busting exercise if I treat it like a reward for climbing another 4 miles of stairs and doing a bit of jogging on the side. Hopefully, my normal routine when home of running about 3 miles through the neighbourhood won't suffer any (well, any more) by comparison once I get back to that. For now, there's a muffin and Ian Flemming prose calling my name...
(A phantom Russian submarine? Only if I get some good close-ups of my devistatingly attractive, yet appropriately tense profile.)Having gotten back into the routine last week, I have determined that it is now time to push the envelope a bit, so to speak. If done with the right effort, it'll be a sad, sweaty little envelope by week's end. I'm reminded of a shirt that my friend got once which read, "pain is weakness leaving the body". We had fun with that one for a while. Having climbed what the machine told me was the equivalent of 4-miles' worth of stairs yesterday before walk/jogging 2 miles on the treadmill, I figure I'll let that set the tone for the rest of the week before I must resign myself to waving a pitiful goodbye to the free gym time. 
(Don't worry...we'll always have Provo. Just doesn't have the same ring to it!)
(I realise now that in order to explain how I got back into the routine last week of going to the gym every day, I must state that the guy who processed my lovely free week pass quite kindly added on an extra free week. Score.)(Don't worry...we'll always have Provo. Just doesn't have the same ring to it!)I've toyed with the idea all the past week of actually taking advantage of the fact that the gym has a proper lap pool. I think today, I shall put that idea into practise. Perhaps it won't seem like arduous gut-busting exercise if I treat it like a reward for climbing another 4 miles of stairs and doing a bit of jogging on the side. Hopefully, my normal routine when home of running about 3 miles through the neighbourhood won't suffer any (well, any more) by comparison once I get back to that. For now, there's a muffin and Ian Flemming prose calling my name...
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