Thursday, September 30, 2010


This afternoon I was hankering for a snack. I purchased a can of Cherry Coke Zero that a coworker promised me would taste just like the original Cherry Coke. Then I purchased a Three Musketeers bar. I dove right into the candy bar and washed it down with the inaugural swig of my new drink. While the Cherry Coke was marvelously close to it's original, I found the Three Musketeers bar… well… I don't know if I can say it… too… sweet? What the?! I know! I found myself eating it slow and when I just had the butt left, I almost decided to throw it away! *pause for gasps* The frugality in me overcame the moment and I managed to finish 'er off.

I don't know what was wrong with me. I plead temporary insanity, or, they must have altered the recipe! The creamy nugget was overwhelming and the crisp chocolate covering was over the top. Oh the shame! Who am I?! I'm a disgrace to my former self.

You wanna know something though… that's not the worst part. Before I left work I was starting to feel a little shaky from hunger, again ( I swear I'm hypoglycemic), and you know what sounded good? You know what I chose for my snack? An apple. An effin apple. Mind you it was a Honeycrisp apple purchased on our recent obligatory trip to Wisconsin, but still. FRUIT! Fruit over chocolate. I can't take it. I feel lost. I'm having an identity crisis.

All that kept running through my head on the way home was Shawn's lesson in health class where they compare cupcakes to apples. He teaches the students that you can have like 15 apples for every one cupcake to add up to the same number of calories. Plus, you'll get more nutrients from the apple. Blah, blah, ginger. Whenever I think of the lesson I think, I would eat the cupcake. Today tough, today I ate the apple. Help. Me.

Friday, September 24, 2010


It's time. I have reached by rock bottom.

Hello. My name is Kali and I'm a caffeineaholic. My addiction began in high school. Someone once offered me a pop and I took it. I didn't so much as ask what was in it. I just drank it. We didn't have pop at my house. Dad made us drink milk. I fell in love with this new beverage. I had to have more of it. I wanted pop all the time. I would drive to Casey's in the morning to buy a pop after practice. I would steal and scrounge for coins to fill the vending machine so I could get a fix midday. Although I dabbled in multiple forms, Pepsi was my flavor of choice.

I was able to subside this addiction after college. I switched to Diet Dr. Pepper, never really ready to give up pop or caffeine entirely or cold turkey. Although I tried. When I felt motivated, I could go a day or two without a pop. But the headaches were relentless and mind numbing and I couldn't surpass them. I gave in and went back. The addiction won again.

Now, I'm heading towards 30. I'm ready for a change. I don't think that I can give up pop. I like the taste too much. I must give up caffeine though. I've been buying caffeine free DDP for a while now. Due to my horrendous work schedule though, I've been binge drinking Pepsi for a week. I stumble on dollars daily to make my deposit in the machine. Yesterday, I had two 20oz Pepsis. This is when my stumbling downhill began.

I went home, ate supper, had another DDP and then headed off to yoga. C2, heated to 100 degrees for an hour, yoga. It was amazing. I was breathing and stretching and holding and releasing and sweating and sweating and sweating. About halfway through, I started to get a pain in the top of my head. It would come and go depending on the posture. It was weak at first but by the time we were winding down, it was a full fledged tornado in my head. Every time I moved, an invisible hammer would hold no mercy as it pounded behind my eyes. I don't know how but I made it through class. I made it out the door and into my car. That's when I started to feel sick. I rolled down the windows and rested my head back for a few minutes. I knew what was happening. I had been here before. I was dehydrated. The only other time I had been dehydrated this bad, I ended up fainting at a Howie Day concert and spending the rest of the night in the ambulance. At this point again, I was thankful to be sitting down.

I chugged back two bottles full of water and made it to a gas station by our house. I was after some electrolytes. With some water and Gatorade now seeping into my system, the throbbing was subsiding. I had calmed my nausea enough to take a shower. I had managed to relax enough so I could crawl into bed for the night, but not before I made a promise to myself. I would really TRY and give up caffeine. Not on Monday, not after I'm done working mandatory overtime, but now. Caffeine leads to dehydration. When I drink pop, I'm not drinking water. Then when I get to yoga and sweat off my weight in water, I'm left with nothing in the tank. My reserves are empty and instead, I'm rewarded with a migraine.

Doing a quick search on Wikipedia, I found that caffeine also leads to reflux disease (which I've had), insomnia (which I've had), headaches (which I've had) and even anxiety with obsessive compulsive tendencies when caffeine is taken in large amounts. Hello! Have we met? This all might sound extremist but maybe that's what I need. Maybe I need to be scared. I need to remember how I felt last night when I want a pop so bad I can taste it. I need to remember the urge to want to throw up when I get the urge to visit the vending machine. I need to envision the hammer to my head when I'm so tired at work all I need is a quick fix.

I need help. I know that now. I need to give it up. I'm not ubberly confident at this point beings that it's Friday and I have 10 hours of work ahead of me, but I'm going to try. That's all I can do is try. I've acknowledged my problem, publicly and I'm moving forward.

Monday, September 20, 2010


I have an intense desire to travel lately. Not just lately I guess. Always. It was a year ago last April that Shawn and I took our most recent vacation. Granted he's gone to Canada and I've gone to Virginia since, but neither of those destinations were new for us. I want to go somewhere I've never been. I want to get out of the country. I want a story that rivals The Fiat. I'm getting the itch to get on a plane and have my passport stamped. Although our Capital One miles are coming along nicely, it's still not in the budget right now (damn fireplace). Maybe this spring or summer. Until then, I can dream (and save)…

Below is my most wanted list. My coveted destinations. My current infatuations. You get the point. I disclose: I do have a hidden agenda to this reveal. I want to pluck the brains of the well-traveled (the likes of Drew, Aubrey, Pedro, Vashni, etc.) and heed the advice of any so-called experts. Don't be shy if I haven't mentioned your name. Do tell your tricks. Maybe you know someone who resides in any of these places and we could be their bunk buddies. Maybe you've been and know some helpful tips or must sees. Maybe you have a good travel agency or a good company you like to book through. Maybe you have some penny pinching pointers. Maybe you want to recommend somewhere completely different, hell, I don't care. Let's just talk travel! My complete wish list of places I want to visit is much too long to document here, however, I've currently narrowed it down to two regions: Chile and Italy.


Lake District Highlights

Chile & Argentina Culinary Adventure


Ultimate Italy


The Taste of Tuscany

Everything above is courtesy of Gap Adventures.

Thursday, September 16, 2010


I'm too tired to formulate a paragraph. Instead, I'll ramble off some random thoughts that don't necessarily warrant a full post but have been occupying note space on my iPod.

My husband's man crush is Taylor Lautner because he is built like a brick shit house.

Is revealing I've had a UTI, TMI? It was a while ago and it was my first. I pray it was my last.

I said hello to someone I hate this week. My heart grew three sizes that day.

I am in awe of those that can hear a song on the radio and then play it on the guitar, piano or the like.

There is a road in Virginia named Witchduck Road. It's former name was Witchdunk Road because it lead to the ocean where they would, duh, dunk witches.

I love my husband most when he giggles at his own jokes.

What is your time worth? I know mine's worth more then it's being paid for.

I love reading most about other cultures, usually those furthest from my own.

The fireplace we just had redone isn't working. The dogs are protesting more then we are.

If I listen to a song loud enough, it can transport me. Momma said it can take me anywhere. It can be my magic song.

A good character building challenge is visiting and morphing into someone else's home, lifestyle and way of doing things. It makes you appreciate home.

Shawn and I saw Toy Story 3 at the theatre. No, we didn't bring any kids.

I drive Dad's old Cav to work every day. Every time I shift, I can feel his hand.

My Mom has finished radiation and is cancer free. Fuck cancer.

The only thing I want for Christmas is the complete Cosby Show DVD series.

Hangnails on the outsides of both big toes in yoga is like trying to play tennis without a racket.

A book I read referenced a sitting up soul. What do you think that means.

I like beer. It makes me a jolly good fellow.

I like when you comment on my blog.

I'd like it if you'd follow my blog.

I'd like to go to bed.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010


I have started yoga. Thanks to CorePower's free week for all new students and Groupon's $49.99 unlimited month, I have lunged into the abyss armed with curiosity, hope, a saggy core and an achy back.

It has been just over one week. I have attended five C1 (beginner) classes. My initial blanket feeling thus far? LOVE. Sure, it may be unrequited love, for now, but love it is.

I enjoy walking into the studio where talking is not allowed. I'm an introvert and this is my mecca. Hopefully I'm at the back of the class so I can sweat and pose in peace but as in tonight's case, I'm not always as lucky. Tonight I was front and center for both the class and the reflection in the mirror. My apprehension towards my placement doesn't last long however. I find familiarity the minute we find extended child's pose and start our breathing. My mood enjoys the calming affect of the instructor's voice. The verbal cues and demonstrations and movement breakdowns help my analytical side. The liquid gestures make me feel graceful, dancer-like. The language used to label each movement brings out my intellectual side. I worship the belief in yoga that every strong pose is followed by a strong relaxation. When you feel like you could collapse, you literally get to. I adore the challenge of opening up my heart and chest, straitening my back, looking up with my arms extended and letting my head hang heavy. I was immensely proud of myself when I accomplished my first inverted pose, crow. I continue to get better with every class. I revel in the end of class. Not because my pain and suffering is over but because we get to lay there, in corpse pose, with the lights nearly out and the music subtle next to the silence and just relax. Nothing else matters at that point and I'm completely engulfed in the moment. With a personality like mine, it's wonderful to attain this feeling and for that at the very least, I am grateful.

Not everything is rainbows and roses however. As I implied, yoga doesn't necessarily love me yet. My cynical side still exists. The day after my first class, I could not feel the back of my arms much less lift them higher then my legs. Thanks to running, everything from my ass down was good to go. Everything from the waste up, however, was screaming, gesturing and swearing at me in every possible language. I feel immensely out of shape during class because I sweat. I'm not talking about a few beads percolating on my forehead. I'm talking full on, faucet running sweat. From the top of my head to the tips of my toes. Granted, the studio is slightly heated but still. I'm slowly working my way through my fear of passing gas on my neighbor. Laugh it up. Women know what I'm talking about when that bitch Flo is in town. I fear falling on my face at all times even though they tell us it won't happen. When I'm down in crow trying to rest my legs on my arms while looking forward, it takes complete concentration not to picture a gaping whole where my two front teeth used to be. The instructors always reiterate that shaking is good. Shaking is great. Shaking means your body is working hard. Therefore mine must be trying out for the effin Olympics because my whole body trembles. I could go on but it doesn't really matter because all of these semi-cons don't put a dent in the pros so to yoga I go again and again and next time, I get to go with a friend.

Monday, September 6, 2010


As Niece Natalie would say, "TA-DA!" - the new fireplace! Below is how it happened.

The conversion to gas was complete and the god-awful shelves were down!

The new gas insert and setback surround.

The resurfacing with the new stone had started - also a good before/after resurface split.

Top - awful brick; Bottom - beautiful stone.

Our living room mid-resurfacing. Good thing I was at work.

Our wonderful stone vendor.

The new gas insert with it's surround atop the new hearth (which also matches the new mantle).

Beautiful new setup - bottom half which includes the new hearth.

This angle shows the new setback - the section they built out on the lower half of the fireplace by about 4" so that we could have the lovely stone mantle you see here.

Harvest Ledgestone

The new setup - plus one dopey basset.

The new setup - second angle and a second dopey basset.



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