Happy Place

If you've been reading my blog long enough, you're probably able to identify my greatest, and oft written about, loves: exercise, diet soda, reality TV and baking. Just to be clear, I am purposely excluding actual people from the list, lest you think I'm sort of people hating monster. The truth is that I happen to like most some people more than I like going to the gym and baking a bundt cake, but I'd hate to ruin my tough girl exterior by going all mushy on you. You know I'm not so good with the squishy sentimental crap stuff.

As luck would have it, today is a day where I truly have it all.
The stars must be in alignment, or something.

I went to the gym this morning, The Bachelorette is on tonight and whilst chugging a cold Diet Coke this afternoon, I had the great pleasure of baking lots of goodies for a bake sale at Craig's work.
A pretty good day, if I do say so myself. It would be even better if I could figure out how to style my new haircut, but that would be asking too much. And I'm not one to rock the boat; I wouldn't want to spoil my Happy Place day.


My day didn't start off as nicely as I would have liked because someone took my spot in Body Pump class(yes, I have a spot) and I had to position my bench and weights in between two mirrors. It's not just the line in the middle that annoys me, but these two particular mirrors are different. One side of my body looks normal and the other side looks oddly disproportionate. For this reason, I refuse to stand on the right hand side of the exercise room. At my gym in Georgia, one of the exercise rooms had AWESOME mirrors; mirrors that made MY legs look long and lean. The adjacent room had mirrors that made everyone looks like oompa loompas. Needless to say, I didn't take yoga too often. It's hard to relax and concentrate when the circumference of your thighs expands by several inches just by entering the room. Let's see, something else could have potentially ruined my happy day. Oh yes, I went to open a bag of spinach for my green smoothie, except it wasn't spinach, it was lettuce. Evidently I didn't buy two bags of spinach at the commissary the other day like I thought I did. I don't know about you, but the idea of drinking liquefied lettuce doesn't sound too appealing. I realize that I sound completely ridiculous because I drink liquefied spinach, but a girl has to draw the imaginary line somewhere. Right?


Despite the horrific events plaguing my morning, knowing that I had an afternoon of baking and an evening of trashy, mindless reality tv awaiting me, my attitude remained positive.

Craig's work is organizing a couple of bake sales to raise funds for their Organizational Day. When news of the second bake sale broke (we missed the first one), many of Craig's co-workers (my taste testers) suggested, with much enthusiasm, that Chief Smith's wife do all the baking.
Of course I happily agreed because, as I mentioned above, my incurable sweet tooth and I just love baking. The smell of baked goods unfailingly lifts my spirits.

Last week Craig called and informed me of the bake sale date. I suggested that he poll his workmates to see what kinds of treats everyone wanted. Not even an hour later Craig called back with a huge list of desired goodies. Always happy to get elbow deep in chocolate, but also quite aware of my limits (and lack of refrigerator space), and not to mention, not wanting to hog the entire bake sale table, we whittled down the list to four items.

Brown-Butter Toffee Blondies

Blissful Snickerdoodle Bars

Cookies and Cream Chess Bars

Double Chocolate Chunk Cookies

During this afternoon's marathon baking session I loosely calculated that I used 1 1/2 lbs of butter, 4 lbs of sugar (brown, granulated and powdered), 11 eggs, half a bottle of vanilla extract and 1 lb of chocolate....among other things.

With the hard work (and all the dishes!) complete, I'm waiting for two of the items to cool enough so I can cut (hopefully neatly) and wrap all the goodies.

You know, I tried intently to be a good blogger and document my afternoon with pictures. As I'm sure you all won't be able to live a full and complete life without visual representation of my baking session. My intentions were good. My camera was bad.
My batteries ran out of juice and I *had* a stash of extra batteries but they seem to have disappeared. I think the battery eating Wii remotes ate up the last few I had stowed away. I even tried to pilfer a few from the Wii Fit board, but I guess when the directions say not to use previously used batteries, they actually mean it. After a short prayer and a curse word or two, my camera came back to life. Not wanting to waste any ounce of battery power I quickly plugged the camera into the computer and I got some blasted error message.
Gone are my pictures.

No pictures capturing the beauty that is the mixture of creamed butter and sugar. Is there really anything better than that? You could spread it on toast and I'd be a happy girl.
No photos of the happy baker with the customary sunglasses perched upon her head. My future is bright, after all.
Ahem.
No snapshots of my neatly packaged goodies in clear baggies affixed with a cheery and colorful sticker.

Eh. I'm a horrible photographer anyway; you're not missing much.

In other news, I learned a very important lesson today: if you want your ice maker to start working again, just buy a bag of ice. It didn't produce a single cube for an entire day and as soon as I bought a bag of ice, the darn thing started working again.

I'm glad it magically started to work because I didn't really want to bug our landlord over something so trivial. However, I would have done what was deemed necessary because we go through ice like crazy around here.
Craig has taken to sitting in an ice bath (!) after his long Sunday morning runs. Seriously, he runs 10-15 miles and then comes home and sits in freezing cold water.
Hey, whatever it takes to preserve his body.

Have I mentioned that he's training for a marathon? October is a busy month for him: Army 10 Miler at the beginning of the month and the Marine Corp Marathon near the end. I'm slightly concerned that we'll spend the entire month of November at the hospital replacing all of his ailing joints.

The idea of running a marathon intrigues me, but....nah.
I'll stick to being the cheerleader....with 911 ready on speed dial!

OK, time to cut up the goodies...and sneak a few end pieces (shhh!).

Free To Be Dull

While many folks around the nation are getting together to celebrate our freedom with food, fun and fireworks, I spent the day doing what I do best: nothing exciting.

It was a day like any other day, with the exception that our nation is another year older. As it so happens, I was born in the year of the Bicentennial, so now that America is 233 years old, I'm sadly reminded that in a few short months I'll turn 33.

Words are unable to express how deeply saddened I am by this news.


With no holiday plans on tap, I started this Saturday in my favorite way: receiving a hearty beating at the gym.

I missed the past two weeks due to Craig's work schedule and that sick kid of mine, so this morning's beating was extra painful. I can skip this class once without repercussions, but missing two weeks in a row proves to be extremely uncomfortable upon return.


The rest of the day revolved around this:







and this







and figuring out this


Isn't the ipod shuffle cute?




Craig got the newer shuffle version because the only color in the original version the store had in stock was pink. You might not know this, but Craig isn't what you would consider an extremo machismo macho man; He eats Luna bars and has on occasion taken my women's vitamins. He even allowed Caroline to paint his toenails last week when I was on the great antibiotic hunt of 2009. He's a good natured guy and despite his willingness to, as he puts it, "get in touch with his feminine side," I'm fairly certain that he would draw the line at owning and operating a pink ipod. After all, every man deserves at least a smidgen of self respect, right?

Thankfully Craig was around, sparkly painted toes and all, to help me figure out the ipod. He converted our music and helped me when I made an oopsie. On top of that, he took Caroline and her friends to the pool so I could stay home to vacuum, read, and take a smallish snooze in my favorite reading chair. Like I said, I took a pretty brutal beating this morning. My batteries were in dire need of a recharge.

We had initially planned to take in the fireworks show on Ft. Belvoir, just as we did last year. Normally Caroline is stoked all year long for the fireworks display. Seriously. Two years ago she talked non stop about the next year's event mere seconds after the current year's fireworks ended. This year, she said she'd rather stay home and light sparklers with her friends, Sarah and Rachel. On one hand, this is somewhat of a relief because parking spaces are few and far between near the fireworks site and the traffic coming home would be unpleasant. However this is the first time Caroline has willingly given up doing something she looks forward to all year long just so she could spend time with her friends.

Friends she sees everyday.

Like I said, I'm partly relieved, but I'm also suspicious that this is the start of a new phase in her life. You know, the "friends are more exciting than mom and dad phase."

On the bright side, I'm not being eaten up by mosquitos right now. I am, without a doubt, a mosquito magnet.

Must be because I'm so sweet!
Those annoying pests bypass Craig and Caroline and come straight to me. Everytime, without fail.


The day may have been celebration free, but I did keep busy.

I made turkey burgers with pepper jack cheese and turkey bacon and roasted potatoes for dinner. And a pickle, because every meal needs a vegetable!

And we can't forget the sweet tea. My pitcher was occupied at the time and I only wanted to make a small batch of tea, which explains the oh so classy pyrex measuring cup.







After dinner I cleaned the kitchen because, hello, have me met? I'm Alison and I'm a neurotic neat freak.

My deepest hope is that everyone else had a more interesting holiday than us.

It's late and Caroline is out with the neighbors lighting sparklers. I should go check to make sure she didn't burn a neighbor's house down.

Or lose a finger.

Or light her hair on fire.

She is, after all, her mother's daughter.

Did I Ever Mention How Much I Like Free Stuff?

Today I used the Michael's gift card that Craig's co workers gave me as a thank you for making them fat baking them lots of tasty treats. I'm not the type of person to buy anything I want just because it catches my eye. I'm thoughtful when making purchases and well, cheap. However, when I have *free* money to use, I find myself more than happy to pay full price for something (gasp!).

For the entire year we've lived here, I've been searching for something to put on this little table in our dining room. It's just an end table that serves absolutely not purpose; I just didn't know what to do with it, so I put it in the dining room.

With Caroline and Craig occupied at the movies seeing Ice Age 3, I set out to first get my hair cut and then go to Michael's to once and for all find something to fill that space.

I'm happy to report that my mission was successfully completed.

Only, once I got home and put the vase full of stuff (leaves, twigs, berries) on the table, I decided I didn't like it in that location. I have a hard time determining size and scale when I'm in a store and it just didn't look "right."
I also had to take into consideration the need to camouflage the half dollar sized white spot (on light brown wood) where SOMEONE, who shall remain nameless, spilled rubbing alcohol on the table when HE was polishing his boots. This obviously happened quite a long time ago because the newest boots that go with the ACU's don't require polishing anymore. That was probably the best decision the Army ever made. Not only does shoe polish stink, but little girls who watch their dads spit shine their boots pick up the very unladly-like habit of spitting.
Ahem.

But don't you worry, this story does indeed have a happy ending. I did the old switcheroo. I put the new vase on the dining room table and put the basket that previously sat in the center of the dining table on the little table. The size and scale worked and the conspicuous white spot is a little less conspicuous now.

Just a quick flip-flop.
And all is well.

Don't you just love a home decorating success story?

So as I mentioned above, I got my hair cut today. I like it; it looks like my last hair cut plus a few additional layers.
I'd take a picture, but my hair is in a messy pony tail right now. It's barely long enough for one, but I made it work.

I cannot go a whole day without tying my hair back. If I'm feeling frazzled, I immediately put it up. It's like I can't think if my hair is down. Makes no sense, I know.
This afternoon I was feeling frazzled. And hot. So I put what's left of my hair up in a itty bitty pony tail.
Maybe if I have a successful blow dry tomorrow, I'll take a picture.

Now that I've celebrated the good things....especially the free shopping trip....I must make a small complaint about my MP3 player.

It's sucks.
It was the worst purchase ever.

I owned the same product before, but the style changed. So did the quality.

I've had it for almost a year, which is a major feat, if you ask me. Less patient people would have tossed it long ago.
It's a temperamental piece of junk that will not operate unless it's close to my body. I can't place it on the treadmill or in my pocket because it will shut off. At first it only worked if I held it, but now it works in my arm band.
Three months after I bought it, the digital read out that displays song titles and the battery level quit working.

I just had to guesstimate when it was time to change the battery.

I think it finally died today. I turned it on in the gym, but no sound came out. I assumed that meant I needed to change the battery, but when I got home (after a very quiet and boring run) I changed the battery, but it still doesn't work.

I'm kind of relieved, but at the same time I'm annoyed that I have to buy something new.
Craig's is also on it's last legs so I think we're going to join the ipod age together. We're just getting ipod shuffles, because spending $139 on a nano that I'll either lose or spill water on seems silly.

I hate to spend money on unplanned purchases, but replacing a dead mp3 player is simply
non-negotiable. Running without music is torture. Sometimes it's torture WITH music, but the idea of going without the musical motivation is rather unpleasant.
I once read on someone's blog that they listened to sermons and the Bible on cd when exercising. While I certainly don't want to mock the listening choices of others, I need a good beat to keep me moving.

Looks like we'll go shopping tomorrow. I can't wait to get a little pink shuffle.
Finally I'll be like the cool kids.

Commisscary

I spent the morning at one of my least favorite places: the commissary.

Yep, it was grocery shopping day.

Time to load up my cart, sneer at the less than stellar produce offerings and significantly whittle down Craig's paycheck.

I really and truly hate that place. Yesterday Caroline and I stopped by a local grocery store for bananas after she had her hair cut. Let me tell you, it was so nice and peaceful in there. Dim lighting, nice music, an array of beautiful and enticing food choices. There weren't any old fogies hogging the aisle with their scooters. The checkout line wasn't wrapped around the store.

Grocery shopping there would be enjoyable. Expensive, but enjoyable.

While I would heartily appreciate a peaceful shopping experience, overall I'm still way too cheap. As much as I might gripe, I'd rather navigate the crowded aisles of the commissary then spend twice as much money elsewhere.

As an added bonus, Caroline came with me today. Neither of us care to accompany each other on shopping excursions of a lengthy persuasion, so it went as well as we both could have hoped for. She's doesn't misbehave, she is a good girl, it's just that she really doesn't want to be there. And it shows.

Oh, and she INSISTS on "helping" me steer the cart.

Craig was down the street at the running track; he came afterwards to rescue us both by taking Caroline home.

Our hero!

The commissary was hopping today; payday was yesterday and the 4th of July is quickly approaching, so I'm not surprised.

I always feel kind of sad when I see people buying obvious cookout food. No, I don't have some sort of repressed childhood hot dog horror stories, but the idea that they're gearing up for a friendly get together while we're eating pan cooked turkey burgers with no one other than our lame selves is kind of depressing.

Makes me wax nostalgic for the good ol Georgia days where we actually did things like that.

So anyway, I went shopping and bought way too much food. While I'm not fond of the actual commissary experience, the worst part awaits me at home. Thankfully Craig was there to help carry in the groceries, but even worse than the quad burning hike(s) up the stairs is trying to figure out how to shove all that I bought into our side by side refrigerator.

As God (and you loyal readers)as my witness, when we have a home of our own, I will NEVER own a side by side refrigerator. It's impossible to squeeze two weeks worth of groceries into one of those things.

It's a lovely stainless steel refrigerator and despite the fact that it's a finger print magnet, it's quite easy on the eyes. However, it was not made with the purpose of stocking up and storage in mind.

The neat freak in me is mortified to show these pictures. You honestly have no idea how often I cringe when I open those doors. No amount of organization will ever conquer that pile of disarray.

Shameful.

And I didn't even show you the pantry yet.

The good news is that I won't have to go to the store for a while.

Except for tomorrow.

But that is to one of the peaceful stores to buy a few things the commissary doesn't carry.

Despite this morning's unpleasantness, it was worth it in the end.

And why, you might ask. Well, because I bought these:

SO good.

SO SO good.

Help!

I hate summer.

Aint Nothing But A Free Thang

After marrying into some credit card debt and then working intently to pay it off, Craig has joined me in an effort to avoid further debt. We use credit cards for convenience and the perks, but pay the balance in full.
I have one card that sends me a $25 Amazon.com gift certificate after I charge $2500. Wow, that seems like a lot of money. Thanks to Caroline's unfortunate front teeth vs. hardwood incident and insurance that doesn't cover the imperative dental splinting, an impending trip to Williamsburg, new tires and other odds and ends, I received a gift certificate last week.

There's nothing like some free shopping to cheer a girl up.

Why is it that when you don't have extra money to spend you can find a thousand things you just NEED to have but when you have a gift certificate burning a hole in your pocket, nothing jumps out at you?
That is one of those questions that will never be answered. Much like the mystery of socks losing their mates in the wash and why God created snakes.

I don't like to buy books; why bother when you can borrow them for FREE?
I don't buy CDs either.
So, I went to the kitchen section, firmly committed to spending that $25. After much debate, I concluded that I absolutely could not live without a microplane to zest lemons and an electric knife to slice homemade bread.
One of the MANY problems an obsessive and neurotic person (like me) will encounter is the stress of achieving perfectly proportioned home-baked bread slices. Be it a sweet quick bread or a three seed loaf used for grilled cheese, I simply cannot cut evenly. I'm a perfectionist and this discourages me to no end.
One slice is fat; the next is thin and lopsided. Or even worse, the top portion is of ideal thickness, but gets progressively thicker towards the bottom of the slice.

And because the thought of having an uneven loaf of bread disturbs me and haunts me in my sleep, I find myself coming back to the imperfect loaf and lobbing off pieces to (unsuccessfully)create impeccably straight lines.

And what do I do with the remaining undesirable pieces?
Why, I eat them of course.

I'm cautiously optimistic that the electric knife will facilitate a smooth and stress free bread slicing experience.

I'm so very thankful for the invention of online shopping. There's something very satisfying about coming home and finding a package waiting on your doorstep.
Speaking of package delivery, the UPS man sure did come around a lot last week.

As it turns out, my other half is even fonder of online shopping than I.

Hair Cut

No, not me. While I'm in DIRE need at this very moment, I'm getting mine cut on Friday when Craig is home to watch the kid.

Caroline's new do was on today's to-do list.

I love Caroline's hair short; it suits her spunkiness.