No adventure this week. I suck.
Jun. 27th, 2010 09:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grrgoylNo new adventures to report this week -- I know, one week in and I'm already a failure. Stupid me put off leaving too long and the sun looked too brutal to go anywhere. Of course, it's easy to forget that sometimes it's 10 degrees cooler outside than inside our condo.
I did attend a party at Chris and Liana's. We had sort of fallen out of vogue at the parties when Tery quit drinking. We went to Halloween and she claimed the temptation was too great -- though I personally failed to see what she thought she was missing watching everyone else get progressively stupider and more obnoxious (perhaps she missed the numbing effects that made the stupidity and obnoxiousness more bearable).
So we just haven't been invited, until this weekend. Which means no one has seen me and my 50-pound weight loss. They all marveled appropriately (and I won't be modest, it is a marvel; I never thought I'd see the downside of 190 before my deathbed). For once I was skinnier than even Laura, the big party flirt, who in her defense is happy in a new relationship, and that always packs on the pounds.
I was a bad girl and ate more fatty foods than I've ever dared since my ER visit, though still less than once upon a time: I only sampled one each of the crab cheese mushrooms and cheddar cheese bruschetta (EVERYTHING had cheese on it), and one whole Omaha steak. I was okay at the time, but later that night I felt a shadow of the chest pain, just a friendly reminder that Mr. Gallstone was still along for the ride, my Dark Passenger.
Still, I've realized that if I could have the surgery today and go back to eating whatever I wanted, I wouldn't do it. I like my life (and how I look) too much this way. I know, I'm sickening, aren't I?
Another of my agendas for attending was to hopefully plan some bike riding with Chris and Liana (it's all about the bike with me). They're pretty serious too, taking frequent trips into the mountains and even once or twice to Alaska to ride. They acted pretty gung-ho about going with me to their local park, and so was I, until I learned that not only does Chris not believe in helmets, he fills his water bottle with a vodka mix before barreling down the mountain at 40 mph -- without a helmet. I was nervous enough with Ryan bare-headed but at least stone cold sober in our little Cherry Creek park. I don't know how I'd handle Suicide Man.
It's okay; if there's one thing I've noticed about parties, it's that people spend a lot of time sitting around making all sorts of grand plans that never amount to anything. Which isn't always a bad thing.
~*~
Ahh, Rogue Leader. We've had our ups and downs. I've been getting mysterious chronic flats, always on the rear tire of course (much harder to change). Always after a lovely afternoon of riding, I'd come back, put him back on his rack, and by morning the tire would be almost completely flat. No visible punctures and nothing obvious causing the damage.
I went through three tubes and decided I'd had enough. I brought the tire into Bicycle Village to ask the opinion of their service department. I showed it to a big burly blonde guy who spent most of the conversation staring off over my head, obviously happier dealing with spokes and chains than human beings (not that I can point fingers). He gave it the most cursory of looks, said, "I don't know what to tell you," set me up with a new tube (that he impressively stuck on, tire casing and all, in about 30 seconds with barely a glance) and sent me on my way, free of charge at least.
This tube lasted a total of three days before going flat, a personal worst. Whut. I didn't relish the thought of facing Blondie's cold stare again, so I determinedly plunked down with a flashlight and went over every inch of the inside of the tire. I found the teeniest tiny bit of a wire sticking out of it, no larger than a grain of sand, but certainly sharp. Knock on wood, it might have been the culprit. Blondie might be quick with his hands, but not so good with attention to detail.
Funnily enough, this was one of the first suggestions I found when I searched Yahoo Answers for my problem. God, I hope it was the problem. To be extra sure, I went back to Bicycle Village and ponied up three times the dinars for a thorn-resistant tube, because I'm really, really, REALLY tired of changing tubes. My rear wheel now weighs more than Tery's entire bike, but I don't care if I can get longer than a week's use out of it.
(ADDENDUM: Today was the maiden voyage of my new tube. Definitely feel a difference -- have to work harder to maintain momentum, etc. But good exercise, right? I expect soon my thighs will be so powerful I'll have to start dragging cinder blocks behind me to get any sort of challenge.)
On the plus side, I'm now pretty damn good at changing tires (not Blondie good, but at least I can look people in the eye). And I've got a collection of partially inflated tubes that's the talk of the town.
But when Rogue Leader is up, I'm the happiest girl in the world. The other day I was racing down a big straight-away hill, my iPod rocking the bagpipe solo in "Under the Milky Way Tonight," and, at that moment, that was all I wanted out of life.
~*~
Here's a silver lining to the whole iTunes debacle: My hospital debtor who insisted on a $78 payment plan waited until about two days after my account had been cleaned out to take their money, so the payment bounced. I did the right thing, called the bank and called the debtor to explain. I was told they would just re-bill the account after the money was returned.
There the $78 sat for another month. I dutifully recorded the charge in my Quicken so there were no unpleasant surprises when it suddenly disappeared, but still there it sat. I forgot about it, thinking they were waiting for next month to try again. And there it sat.
Then I started getting daily calls from an unidentified number. I picked up one day and it was them -- which I didn't realize until halfway through the conversation. They started going through the spiel of "Can you pay the balance ($820) today?" "No I can't." "Can you pay X?" "No, I've been paying you $50 a month and that's all I can handle for now." Blah blah, on it went, until it dawned on me they were the $78 people.
You know what would make this less confusing? Consolidating into one big bill. Yeah, revolutionary thinking, that's me.
"I already set up a payment plan with you," I told him.
"I was wondering. The notes are sort of confusing on here," he said.
I explained my whole sad tale. He commiserated, and offered to reinstate my plan. Since he had seemed happy with $50, I confessed that I was really more comfortable with that than $78. He said that was fine. I wondered aloud then why the first person would only settle for $78. He just chuckled knowingly and made it happen.
If they hadn't tried to change the deal on me in the first place, I wouldn't have missed two months and they would have been $100 richer by now. But no, they couldn't be happy with a regular payment every month. Let's just all do things my way and no one will get hurt.
~*~
Some photos. First I noticed the cats were playing with a moth in the kitchen. Kitten to Logan: "No way, YOU like chasing moths? I DO TOO."
I thought nothing of it, until I saw the moth and realized it was MothRA. It looked like a damn sparrow in our kitchen.
Tery's so brave. She scooped it up and put it outside without even flinching. My hero
Logan has reverted back to Homeless Cat, loves sleeping in a tent made out of my overhanging bed sheets. So much so that one day I forgot to put it down and he yelled at me until I did. Crazy boy.
Can you spot the cat in this picture?
Just a little one of me and Rogue Leader. If I don't look very happy, it's because off-road biking takes a lot more concentration
I did attend a party at Chris and Liana's. We had sort of fallen out of vogue at the parties when Tery quit drinking. We went to Halloween and she claimed the temptation was too great -- though I personally failed to see what she thought she was missing watching everyone else get progressively stupider and more obnoxious (perhaps she missed the numbing effects that made the stupidity and obnoxiousness more bearable).
So we just haven't been invited, until this weekend. Which means no one has seen me and my 50-pound weight loss. They all marveled appropriately (and I won't be modest, it is a marvel; I never thought I'd see the downside of 190 before my deathbed). For once I was skinnier than even Laura, the big party flirt, who in her defense is happy in a new relationship, and that always packs on the pounds.
I was a bad girl and ate more fatty foods than I've ever dared since my ER visit, though still less than once upon a time: I only sampled one each of the crab cheese mushrooms and cheddar cheese bruschetta (EVERYTHING had cheese on it), and one whole Omaha steak. I was okay at the time, but later that night I felt a shadow of the chest pain, just a friendly reminder that Mr. Gallstone was still along for the ride, my Dark Passenger.
Still, I've realized that if I could have the surgery today and go back to eating whatever I wanted, I wouldn't do it. I like my life (and how I look) too much this way. I know, I'm sickening, aren't I?
Another of my agendas for attending was to hopefully plan some bike riding with Chris and Liana (it's all about the bike with me). They're pretty serious too, taking frequent trips into the mountains and even once or twice to Alaska to ride. They acted pretty gung-ho about going with me to their local park, and so was I, until I learned that not only does Chris not believe in helmets, he fills his water bottle with a vodka mix before barreling down the mountain at 40 mph -- without a helmet. I was nervous enough with Ryan bare-headed but at least stone cold sober in our little Cherry Creek park. I don't know how I'd handle Suicide Man.
It's okay; if there's one thing I've noticed about parties, it's that people spend a lot of time sitting around making all sorts of grand plans that never amount to anything. Which isn't always a bad thing.
~*~
Ahh, Rogue Leader. We've had our ups and downs. I've been getting mysterious chronic flats, always on the rear tire of course (much harder to change). Always after a lovely afternoon of riding, I'd come back, put him back on his rack, and by morning the tire would be almost completely flat. No visible punctures and nothing obvious causing the damage.
I went through three tubes and decided I'd had enough. I brought the tire into Bicycle Village to ask the opinion of their service department. I showed it to a big burly blonde guy who spent most of the conversation staring off over my head, obviously happier dealing with spokes and chains than human beings (not that I can point fingers). He gave it the most cursory of looks, said, "I don't know what to tell you," set me up with a new tube (that he impressively stuck on, tire casing and all, in about 30 seconds with barely a glance) and sent me on my way, free of charge at least.
This tube lasted a total of three days before going flat, a personal worst. Whut. I didn't relish the thought of facing Blondie's cold stare again, so I determinedly plunked down with a flashlight and went over every inch of the inside of the tire. I found the teeniest tiny bit of a wire sticking out of it, no larger than a grain of sand, but certainly sharp. Knock on wood, it might have been the culprit. Blondie might be quick with his hands, but not so good with attention to detail.
Funnily enough, this was one of the first suggestions I found when I searched Yahoo Answers for my problem. God, I hope it was the problem. To be extra sure, I went back to Bicycle Village and ponied up three times the dinars for a thorn-resistant tube, because I'm really, really, REALLY tired of changing tubes. My rear wheel now weighs more than Tery's entire bike, but I don't care if I can get longer than a week's use out of it.
(ADDENDUM: Today was the maiden voyage of my new tube. Definitely feel a difference -- have to work harder to maintain momentum, etc. But good exercise, right? I expect soon my thighs will be so powerful I'll have to start dragging cinder blocks behind me to get any sort of challenge.)
On the plus side, I'm now pretty damn good at changing tires (not Blondie good, but at least I can look people in the eye). And I've got a collection of partially inflated tubes that's the talk of the town.
But when Rogue Leader is up, I'm the happiest girl in the world. The other day I was racing down a big straight-away hill, my iPod rocking the bagpipe solo in "Under the Milky Way Tonight," and, at that moment, that was all I wanted out of life.
~*~
Here's a silver lining to the whole iTunes debacle: My hospital debtor who insisted on a $78 payment plan waited until about two days after my account had been cleaned out to take their money, so the payment bounced. I did the right thing, called the bank and called the debtor to explain. I was told they would just re-bill the account after the money was returned.
There the $78 sat for another month. I dutifully recorded the charge in my Quicken so there were no unpleasant surprises when it suddenly disappeared, but still there it sat. I forgot about it, thinking they were waiting for next month to try again. And there it sat.
Then I started getting daily calls from an unidentified number. I picked up one day and it was them -- which I didn't realize until halfway through the conversation. They started going through the spiel of "Can you pay the balance ($820) today?" "No I can't." "Can you pay X?" "No, I've been paying you $50 a month and that's all I can handle for now." Blah blah, on it went, until it dawned on me they were the $78 people.
You know what would make this less confusing? Consolidating into one big bill. Yeah, revolutionary thinking, that's me.
"I already set up a payment plan with you," I told him.
"I was wondering. The notes are sort of confusing on here," he said.
I explained my whole sad tale. He commiserated, and offered to reinstate my plan. Since he had seemed happy with $50, I confessed that I was really more comfortable with that than $78. He said that was fine. I wondered aloud then why the first person would only settle for $78. He just chuckled knowingly and made it happen.
If they hadn't tried to change the deal on me in the first place, I wouldn't have missed two months and they would have been $100 richer by now. But no, they couldn't be happy with a regular payment every month. Let's just all do things my way and no one will get hurt.
~*~
Some photos. First I noticed the cats were playing with a moth in the kitchen. Kitten to Logan: "No way, YOU like chasing moths? I DO TOO."
I thought nothing of it, until I saw the moth and realized it was MothRA. It looked like a damn sparrow in our kitchen.
Tery's so brave. She scooped it up and put it outside without even flinching. My hero
Logan has reverted back to Homeless Cat, loves sleeping in a tent made out of my overhanging bed sheets. So much so that one day I forgot to put it down and he yelled at me until I did. Crazy boy.
Can you spot the cat in this picture?
Just a little one of me and Rogue Leader. If I don't look very happy, it's because off-road biking takes a lot more concentration
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no subject
Date: 2010-06-28 04:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-29 10:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-29 05:27 pm (UTC)This made me feel so happy for you! Very commendable that you've found this new healthy lifestyle - it's empowering to be in control of your body!
I've never been good at riding bikes, but what you described up there is how I feel running in the cemetery, in ninety-degree heat, blasting heavy music.
Also, helmet-less with a vodka mix?! Jesus!!
no subject
Date: 2010-06-29 10:08 pm (UTC)Yeah, he either has a serious deathwish or is a lot more stupid than I thought. If I thought he'd listen, I'd tell him all the times I did practically nothing at all and went over my handlebars. Alarmingly easy to do!
(BTW I voted on your photo. I'm sure your legions of fans will come through and get an easy win for you!)
no subject
Date: 2010-06-29 09:26 pm (UTC)OFB sez: lolol
It took me a minute to remember where I'd heard Dark Passenger before. (Dexter!) Then I became very, very afwaid of Mr. Gallstone!
no subject
Date: 2010-06-29 10:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-29 11:18 pm (UTC)I knew you were losing weight but WOOOOOW.
WELL DONE!
no subject
Date: 2010-07-02 04:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-02 11:30 am (UTC)Kitty feets!
no subject
Date: 2010-07-02 04:21 pm (UTC)I did feel a bit sorry for this one though. Logan managed to damage one of its wings. We put it outside so it wouldn't have to die a slow death as a chew toy.
Logan feets!
Is Tery touching a bug? EWW.
Date: 2010-07-08 03:01 am (UTC)I KNOW. She's very brave.
Date: 2010-07-08 07:48 pm (UTC)