P90X or Pizza?

     All of a sudden, The Boss is very serious about our new fitness competition.  If I have a partner and a goal, I go all out and can be focused like no other, or so I thought.

     A few days ago I started the P90X program and I am in a world of hurt.  For those of you who don't know what P90X is all about, I will tell you.  It's a fitness program equipped with a full menu of real foods that you can actually make and enjoy, (I haven't really paid attention to the nutrition part of it yet)  and for 90 days this guy on the videos (12 to be more precise) kicks the living shit out of you from head to toe.  I have been doing it though, and I wont say that I have been eating all heathy foods, but I can say that I am mindful of what I am eating. 

     Last night when I got home from work, I had it all planned out.  I was going to run upstairs, kiss the girls goodnight, check in with Anderson Cooper on CNN to make sure that the world was just as fouled up as it was before I had left for work 9 hours earlier. After that I was going to kill myself with a little Ab Ripper X.  So this is what I did, upstairs I went, girls were all kissed and tucked in for the night, AC confirmed that the world was indeed as jacked up as I had left it, thanks for the update, AC. But then something went terribly wrong.  As I went to reach for the DVD, I mistakenly reached for a mini deep dish frozen pizza.  And instead of putting the DVD in the DVD player, I put the mini deep dish pizza in the mini deep dish pizza cooker (microwave).  "What the Hell am I doing?"  I think I actually asked myself out loud.  I answered myself in a tone that scared even the new tougher, more muscular, but sore as all can be and in no mood for any physical altercations, me.  "Shut up fat boy and just eat the damn pizza."  Who am I to argue?  

     The pizza was delicious, I'm not going to lie to you.  The stench of guilt was heavy in the air, almost as strong as the smell of once frozen but now sizzling pepperoni.  I burned the roof of my mouth on the melted cheese and while the pain was intense, I was no slave to it.  No sir, I was much too busy enjoying the flavor and the feeling of getting away with something evil while no one was looking.  

     My delicious failure was a setback, I have to admit, but I'm back on track today.  I hate you P90X, I really really hate you.       

    

I Am Not A Pervert

     I find it neccessary to let you people know that I am not a pervert.  I am not usually in the business of showing my underwear in public, though I must admit that this is not the first time that it has happened.  Nor for that matter can I, in good faith, promise that it will be the last time either. 

     I, like most men in America, am a beer drinkin', football watchin', areas that itch scratchin', nose pickin' and flickin' kind of guy who doesn't invest a lot of time on issues like fashion and apparel.  That is until I discovered the world of Burberry boxers.

     The Boss' cousin is a GM for Burberry in Seattle, and as luck would have it, he drew my name in the cousins gift exchange for Christmas.  Upon opening the gift and discovering that another man had just bought me a pair of boxers for Christmas, I couldn't help but wonder what the thought process was while making the decision to do such a thing.  Was this unlikely gift a last minute purchase while leaving work the night before jumping on his flight to California?  Was this a purchase he had already made for himself and in a last ditch effort to come up with a gift idea for his cousin's husband 1500 miles away, just tossed them in his carry on bag and moved on to his next and certainly more important order of business?  Oh no!  This was not an effortless, thoughtless, last minute gift.  No this was something much more special and much more thoughtful and calculated than I had originally given it credit for.  It wasn't until a day or two later though, that I realized just how great a gift this really was.

     As a kid, you build an image in your mind of what Heaven would be like.  How it looks, how it feels, and hope one day that by the grace of God you are welcomed there when that time comes.  You can scrap that image son, I'm telling you right now.  Heaven is not what you pictured it to be at all.  As it turns out, Heaven is constructed of a high thread count, earth tone and pastel pattern of plaid that feels like billowing  clouds of glory and wonder each and every second that it envelopes the skin.

     I willingly humiliate myself like this today as a public service.  If you do not have a pair of these boxers, I urge you to do yourself a favor and score a pair as soon as you can.  You will thank me for it.

     I know the image above is a disturbing one and I am sorry to have subjected you to such a display without prior warning.  

                                                                  

                                                                         

     Sincerely,

     John  

PS I did all of my own stunts in the making of this blog post.      

Ding Dong Ditch 'Em

     One night last week, one of our young neighborhood scoundrels decided it would be funny to ring our doorbell and then take off.  I wasn't home to join in the festivities, but truth be told I had a good laugh when I got the text from The Boss saying that, "Little assholes keep ding dong ditching me."  Apparently  this went on for about an hour or so before The Boss ran outside and yelled "KNOCK IT OFF!"  This solved the problem and the girls went about their evening.

     On Wednesday night, I was home cooking dinner, watching The Hangover and enjoying of all things a little Kahlua with hot chocolate.  I am not particularly fond of Kahlua nor hot chocolate, but when you put the two together it spells G-L-O-R-I-O-U-S.   Suddenly the doorbell rings and we all assume that it's Torrey, one of my daughter's friends who always rings the doorbell when she comes over to play.  But it wasn't Torrey, it wasn't Torrey at all.  It wasn't anybody for that matter.  "Oh it's on" I said as my competitive spirit snapped to attention.  For 20  minutes I stood at the door peeking through the peep hole with my hand on the knob of the unlocked door contemplating my plan of attack should this nocturnal pusher of buttons decide to strike again.

Should I set a bear trap under the doorbell? Should I jump out and scream as loud as I can to scare the crap out of him?  Should I chase him home and make him tell his parents in front of me what he had been doing?  All of these options sounded good.  But which one will best work for me on this night?  I decided to just jump out at him and scream at the top of my lungs.  This was going to be awesome and I was ready for action.  Mike Tyson's tiger was the frozen image on my TV screen as the paused movie waited in anticipation of  what might happen next.  My daughter ran upstairs to look out her window so that she could signal when Operation Poopy Pants was about to commence.

     Perhaps he knew I was waiting for him, or perhaps his mommy called him to eat dinner.  Or maybe although unlikely, he realized that his actions were unjust and uncalled for.  Whatever his logic, he did not return for a second attack and we returned to our dinner and a movie night.

     You are a worthy opponent, little man.  I will catch you one day.  You can rest assured that I will catch you one day, and you will know who the true king of this neighborhood really is.  You can't cheap shot the cheap shot champ, chump!

 

On Your Mark....Get Set.......Eat!

     Try as I might, I have never been able to make my relationship with any New Years resolution last even until February 1st.  So this year, The Boss and I have decided to have a little friendly competition that is under no circumstances to be called any sort of resolution. 

     On April 8th, we will be celebrating our 10th wedding anniversary and I have to commend the woman for having the fortitude to endure living with a neanderthal like myself for an entire decade without missing a beat.

     I have never lied to you people before, so I don't intend to start now.  I know my written words make me sound like a long haired, muscular, disgustingly handsome, smut novel cover worthy specimen with incredible self confidence and charm.  And don't get me wrong, I'd love to let you continue to think of me in such a way.  But the truth is that I am carrying some extra weight around my midsection, my hair is falling off the back of my head, and I am anything but charming.  Needless to say a little self improvement is required.

     So "The Boss" and I have decided to have a weight loss contest.  If she reaches her goal weight by our anniversary, I must find a way to buy her the diamond ring pictured here.  We saw this ring on a commercial 8 or 9 years ago so I've had plenty of time to prepare, (but of course I have not.)  Here's the best part.  If I reach my goal weight by the same date, I am to receive the highly coveted Canon T1i.  This camera is amazing, it is expensive too, but I will never ever have to buy a camera again once I have this beauty in my hands.

     So the stage has been set.  The games have begun.  We started this battle about a week or two ago.  There is just one problem with the whole deal.  All either one of us has done since the starters gun went off is eat.  Damn that Santa for putting so much chocolate in my stocking.  I mean what does he care?  His fat ass is already famous and he can just get some overworked dwarf in his sweat shop to bang out a camera for him on a whim.

     We are not focused at all, but in our defense, it isn't our fault that food is so damn delicious.  Time is running out and I have a long way to go.  Today is the day that I will begin my journey to a leaner, meaner me.  As soon as I finish this cookie that my daughter just handed me.  It's chocolate chip, how could I say no?  Hey, if they made a broccoli cookie that tasted just as good I would be eating one.  Wish me luck.  

     So for the last few years there has been a homeless couple who have been dawning their please help me signs at the signal down by the freeway not too far from where we live.  I'm guessing it has been at least to some degree a pretty lucrative location otherwise, why would they continue to stay there?

     My issue is this.  The woman seems to have a little trouble with controlled substances, or maybe I am the one who has the problem because I have never seen the person next to her with whom  she seems to be having an in depth conversation with.  Her husband or boyfriend or collegue or whoever that guy is across the street working the opposite corner is too far away to be able to hear her, so I know she isn't talking to him.  I'm just saying, perhaps if she would pay a little more attention to her potential customers, she might make a lot more money and could possibly get herself out of this situation.  Hey lady, I'll pay for some of your pity but you have to sell it to me instead of talking to "Mr. Perfectly Fabricated" over there. 

     WOW!  Look at me over here swinging my gavel around pretending to know more about her industry than she does.  I wouldn't presume to let her tell me about labor scheduling, logistics, profit margins or the like.  So why the Hell would she listen to me trying to tell her that she needs to improve on her sitting around on the median and having people give her money while she talks to an invisible buddy like a bunch of old southern  drunken men sitting in a barber shop reflecting on the war in Korea and that twister that missed town by a "kwarter mal layast nawt."

     It's interesting how often times you see the same people day in and day out and yet, you really don't know anything about each other and probably never will.  These two homeless cats might be the coolest people ever, and I will more than likely never give myself the opportunity to find out.  I certainly wouldn't want to interupt her conversation, and he is over there on the other side of the road trying to make a living.  I hope they make enough cash today to find a nice warm place to sleep.

I'm Not Done Yet

     Yesterday I wrote about taking a trip to Jalama Beach, which has sent me into a full blown camping withdrawl.  Like a crack addict without his fix, I neeeed to do some camping and I need it now. 

     As a kid, every summer I would go on at least one camping trip with me family.  Usually we would find ourselves in places like Mammoth, Yosemite, Sequoia, Kings Canyon or Big Bear.  Places where you are submerged in nature and all of its beauty and hazards.  In places like these, you have to hang your food from the trees or in solid steel lockers to avoid being robbed by the local bandits.  4 legged bandits who wont hesitate to remove your face from your skull in order to get that food.  We saw the occasional bear and raccoons did get to our gear one time, but we never really had any run ins to write home about.  I look back on those summer trips with the most fond memories.

     My wife and her family did some camping of a much different style as she was growing up.  They would do their camping up and down the California coast.  So when we got married and talked about going on a camping trip, obviously we had very different ideas on how and where to go.  Of course she had also done the mountain/wilderness camping as a kid as well, so it didn't take a whole lot of explanation when it came to planning our trip to Hurkey Creek.  But when it came time to introduce me to beach camping, I didn't have a clue that it even existed let alone how to prepare or what to bring. 

     11 years, 1 trailer and a truck with which to pull said trailer later, we are beach camping professionals.  After seing pictures of my mother and her very close encounter with a bear up in Mammoth(my parents are no longer campers, they stay in a condo when they go up there), I find that beach camping is a much more stress free environment.  We have figured out the perfect balance of how much is too much food to bring and how much wont cut it.  I usually live on beer and cashews truth be told. 

      For you indoorsy, city types, I'm sorry to go all outdoorsy on you two days in a row.  I thought yesterday's post would be enough but I wasn't done just yet.  I think it's out of my system now and I will move on to something different tomorrow. 

    

    

I Need A Vacation

     There is a place we love to go when it is time to just sit back and do nothing for a few days.  Just about an hour or so north of Santa Barbara along California's central coast.  This well hidden jewel of a getaway is just what the Dr. ordered after a long period of just not giving yourself a break.

     Once you turn off of the main highway and onto Jalama Rd., the world seems to slow down, the stress seems to melt away and thoughts of business, obligations, and responsibilities cease to exist.

     A 14 mile drive down this winding road leads you through some deep wooded areas with the occasional farm house with small crops of colorful flowers, vegetables and fruits ensuring that if you were to become stranded at least you would not starve to death.  Never has 14 miles seemd so far a drive, and never has the first time visitor to this place had such a feeling of going in the wrong direction.  Your surroundings are not what you would imagine in the brochure that you had printed in your own mind.  "Have we made a wrong turn?" you might ask yourself.  "This is clearly not where we are supposed to be."  And then it happens.  Your breathe is taken from you as you make one last long winding turn followed by two or three sharp hairpin turns and up to the top of a steep little hill.

     The beautiful and majestic Pacific, such a contrast to what had been in front of you for the better part of 30 minutes and a confirmation that you have not made a wrong turn.  Jalama Beach is the name of this place and it is one of my favorite places to be.  Miles from the nearest Starbucks or red light at a traffic signal, this is a place where you can completely detach from reality.  Not to mention the famous "Jalama Burger" at the little grill and general store is absolutely amazing.  Though we haven't figured out what makes it so good.  Perhaps it's the fact that there is not another burger joint around for 25 miles.  Whatever the reason, I will tell you that you have not lived until you have had one of those burgers.  I can taste it now as I sit here talking about it.

     Having waited too long again to give ourselves a break, my wife and I are well overdue for a camping trip or a vacation of any type for that matter.  We have been talking about a San Francisco trip, but I think I might have to throw in my vote for a delicious Jalama Burger and a week of just sitting on the beach.

     Oh, and speaking of my wife, she has a new blog that is a must read.  She is a funny and witty mom who has it more figured out than she gives herself credit for, which always makes for a good read.  Check her out at http://notjustyermama.blogspot.com/   

    

    

Now It's Time

     So the time has finally come.  The Holidays are over so that can no longer be my excuse not to write.

      I have read not one but two books to polish up on some of my writing skills, and two novels just for the hell of it and to steal some ideas from those who are already published.

     On top of all of that, I actually sat through Julie & Julia with my wife tonight which came about in a most humorous fashion.  We went out to dinner at a Teppan Grill for a friend's birthday tonight, (grilled scallops with the steamed rice, grilled vegetables, shrimp and a water with lemon, for those who are trying to paint a mental picture.)  After that we decided to stop by the Red Box to rent a $1 movie.  I made the mistake of letting the boss get out and choose the movie while I stayed in the car to keep an eye on the baby.

     Have I learned nothing over the past 11 years?  Hangover was the movie we had agreed on, but a plan B was never discussed in the event that Hangover wasn't available.

  As it turns out, Hangover was not available and so there we were watching yet another chick flick as a result of my not thinking it through.

     I was not aware that it was a movie about writing and getting published, or not getting published and then getting published.  I hope I didn't wreck it for you.  Anyway, I saw it as an omen and an inspiration to quit coming up with excuses not to write and to just get my ass in gear and do it. 

     I'm starting to outline exactly how the structure of the book is going to be, giving it a skeleton if you will.  Actually having a plan written out is something I am not used to doing.  That has never been my style.  The guys at work call how we do it cowboy style.  we shoot from the hip like gunslingers.  We don't need a plan, we just make it happen.  For years that has worked, and we're damn good too.  But this new endeavor isn't going to work like that.  I have to be focused, I have to be structured and stay on course.  This is going to be one of the biggest challenges I have ever taken on and I can't wait another minute to get going. 

     Happy New Year!