Ants in my pants? Nah... let's try a spider.

Y'all.

As I've touched on this past week, I don't sleep much. Most mornings I'm lucky to stumble to the bathroom and not encounter any obstacles along the way, such as a lone sneaker or pillow. When I think about it, I try to lay my clothes out the night before, especially for casual Friday-- I'll always wear jeans and a cute top. So I set out my jeans last night, draping them over a bag full of things to be returned, at the foot of the bed on the floor, and climbed into my bed, knowing that my jeans would be nice and ready for me in the morning.

Fast forward to this morning. After my shower/makeup/hair process is finished, I wake Brian up and hurry him along, feed Otis (my beta, the other half of Milo & Otis... RIP Milo), pull on my jeans and start to make the bed (once awake, I'm very good at multi-tasking at the glorious hour of 5:40am). As I'm smoothing out the sheets, I notice that something on my thigh is itchy and I can kind of feel something through my jeans, a small bump perhaps, when I run my hand over the spot. The more I touch it, the more it itches, until it occurs to me that something. is. In. My. PANTS! TMI or not, I yank off my jeans, slap my hand to the spot and there, my friends, in the palm of my hand, is a spider.

I was horrified. Legitimately horrified. Had my throat note been so sore, I most assuredly would have screamed (it's like The Spot has a sense that I'm writing about it because it JUST started to itch again). Grabbing my jeans, I charge into the bathroom to inform Brian that a spider was in my pants. He started to laugh at first, thinking I was joking, but as he really saw my hysterical-ness (and the spider in my hand), he quieted down. And maybe gagged.

In all honesty, it was a tiny spider but still-- spider in my jeans. And we live on the 4th floor of a 10 floor condo complex-- it's not like we're in the sticks where insects run free. Spider in my jeans. That was NOT the best way to get my morning goin' today.

Moving right along...

For the past few years, I've stubbornly avoided getting a flu shot because I believed that I wouldn't get sick and that if I did, a simple one-time shot wasn't going to stop the sick germs from invading. Of course, I always got sick anyways, but there was a certain amount of pride that I held on to for not jumping on the flu shot bandwagon.

This year, since I'm working at a childrens hospital and all, I bit the bullet, swallowed my pride, and got the shot.

Guess who's sick, my friends.

Indeed.

In all fairness, I knew it was inevitable. Brian, the worst sick patient ever, has been battling the beginnings of a cold since Wednesday-ish. He informed me yesterday that it was just so bad at work, he had to close his eyes for a moment at his desk. (sidenote: I chose to leave out the part that I take daily breaks to the ladies room to take a deep cleansing breath and rest my eyes for a moment. These few minutes restore my sanity and hey, it's better than dozing in front of my computer!) This is where bad sick Brian comes in. He has never missed a day of work due to sickness, which I think is... sick. I don't milk sick days by any means, but if I'm miserable and the thought of commuting in, sitting at my desk for 8 hours and commuting an hour home on public transportation is enough to slay me... then I'll consider it. There are some days you just need to lay in bed and mope around and be sick in order to get over it... that's how I am anyways. Plus there's the whole infecting your coworkers issue, which I suppose is a bit rude. So instead of resting and recuperating, Brian tries to power through, while I get to be Nurse Katie and provide the soup, Diet Coke, blankets, tv remote, warm towels from the dryer, craved Kraft mac and cheese... you catch my drift. And I'm good with that-- totally signed up for it when we did the whole moving in together, pre-For Better or For Worse decision.

The fact that I'm sick on top of Brian being sick is a whole new ball game though. I am a very openly honest terrible sick person. I have certain soups that I want to drink out of certain mugs, certain drinks out of certain cups (Big Blue from Walmart which moved with me from Texas to Boston and which NOBODY else can ever drink out of), certain blankets that I want while wearing certain pajamas... I mean, if you're ever going to be catered on, it should be when you're sick right? You just don't feel good and want someone to take care of you, which is precisely how I feel today. Sore throat, achey, headache, feverish... I basically should not be at work, but since I'm saving time for Christmas, I'm breaking my "no infecting coworkers rule" and sticking it out. However, you had better believe that by 4:30 this afternoon I will be in my pajama pants and a sweatshirt, tucked into bed watching Oprah.

On brighter, non-sick related notes, I bought a coat last night (I'm trying to spare you from only reading about my/our sickness because... ew. Just ew). Ann Taylor Loft, my store of love, had three super coats, regularly between $160-200, on sale for $75!! I couldn't believe it. With all of the Weight Watchers success, none of my older coats fit, so I was more than happy to plunk down $75 for a good, heavy (and cute!) wool coat.


I cannot think of much else to say and am honestly just ready for the weekend. Despite my after work pajama plans, I have to head to Target tonight to get a few random things for my dad's birthday, which is Monday, so I can get his little box in the mail tomorrow morning. Tomorrow I have my meeting early, then my plan is to hit up Pier 1 and Michaels to return a few things and check out *fingers crossed* deals on Halloween stuff. Then it's back to the condo to relax for a bit, then we're heading into Boston for an afternoon around the city, dinner, and the Bruins game. My main reason for Bruins excitement is that I recently bought a new Bruins top to wear to the games, so I'll be stylin'.

Here's to hoping that our colds go away by tomorrow night. If I have to be in a freezing hockey rink for two hours feeling the way that I feel right this moment, Brian will be in a world of pain.

Happy Friday!!

Courtside Celtics seats? Yes, please!!

So I'm sitting at my desk today, twiddling my thumbs and counting down the minutes 'til I can run to my shuttle, when a message pops up in my inbox from one of my friend/co-workers/assistants to one of our big doctors: "Celtics Tickets". We email all day long, so as I opened it, I figured it was nothing special.

WRONG!

"B has three tickets to tonight's Celtics game. First come, first serve!"

Hands shaking, I rapid-fire replied, asking how much they were asking for. "They're a gift and free! Do you want them-- you were the first to reply!"

Do I want them? Are we for real here? Of course! So I asked her to hold them while I called Brian to make sure going wasn't going to interfere with his study time tonight. He gave the go-ahead, and they were mine! Now, I am not a lucky person. I never win contests or scratch off tickets, and I definitely am not the first to "win" things like this... which is why I could not stop smiling as I walked downstairs to pick the tickets up! Melissa was super excited that I'd been the one to get the tickets, and I thanked the doctor profusely as he happily handed them over.

Once I was back at my desk, I took a look at the tickets to see where we'd be sitting (i.e. Brian wanted to know-- I likely would never have thought/cared to look). Hm... Section 2, Row 3-- those sound like decent seats. Just to be sure, I found the Garden seating chart for Celtics games... and holy moly goodness. Courtside, my friends! I might have gone to the (private, single) bathroom and did a little happy dance in the mirror. Brian was shocked-- they're A-MA-ZING seats. My first thought was to email the doctor again, just to say thank you one more time, and he responded with "You're very welcome, Katherine. Make sure to take a camera-- these are prime picture-taking seats!" Will do, B... will do.

Now that we're back at the condo, Brian and I just looked at the seats again. I might have said "So basically, if I wanted to run onto the court from our seats, it would be totally possible." And it is. I could totally do it. The game is ALSO the ESPN game tonight, so Brian's convinced that we'll be on national television-- I'll be wearing a green Celtics t-shirt (that we're buying on the way to the train because Why on earth would I own a Celtics t-shirt?) with a white long sleeve shirt underneath. Look for me!

We're meeting his cousin for the game (although I'd love to have brought along my dad or my brother more than just about anything), and I'm pretty sure it's made both of their weeks. Brian just informed me that he's more excited than a little boy waiting for his Big Wheels on Christmas morning. Uh huh. I'll take lots of pictures and post them asap!

Happy Hump Day, indeed!

Whatever happened to hot chocolate with marshmallows?

As I've mentioned here before, I sleep very little.

Even when I do go to bed at a decent hour, there is something about an alarm sounding at 4:40am that's just jarring to my system. Previous to these crazy hours, I was NOT a coffee drinker. I LOVED the smell of coffee beans, coffee brewing, the coffee aisle at the grocery store... but never the taste. I'd often get some type of tastebud-friendly hot beverage to look like I was a grown-up drinking coffee, while I was really reveling in my coconut hot chocolate or caramel apple cider. However, since I now awake before the sun, I pump the coffee in all of it's caffeine-fueled glory into my body as quickly (and early) as possible.

Brian and I always stop at a Dunkin Donuts on our way to the train, but I just wasn't feeling it today. Since I'd only ever had coffee with enough cream and sugar to turn the drink a lovely light caramel color, I always order a flavored syrup to mask the coffee taste (still love the smell, can't love the taste). The coffee craving just wasn't there this morning, so I skipped it while Brian ordered his.

It's cold again today, and as I waited on the platform for my train with the brisk wind whipping around me, I felt alive... fresh... rejuvenated! "Coffee is for fools with no true energy! Forget caffeine-- high on life is exactly what I am, yessir!" The train pulls in, I grab a seat, scroll through my blogs (good morning, Big Mama!), so alert and annoyingly wide awake, smiling at all of my fellow (oh so grumpy) commuters. With a bounce in my step, I flounce from the train to my shuttle, perkily greeting my favorite bus driver and finding a seat. And then we idled. And wait... and we wait some more. We probably sat there for a good 15 minutes, waiting for more passengers to load on. By the time we finally pulled out of the parking lot, I was passed out cold.

After continuing to nod off three more times in my 20 minute commute to work, I deemed a morning stop at Starbucks absolutely necessary. Now, while I am a fan of Starbucks over DD, no questions asked, I just can't bring myself to rationalize spending $5 a day on a cup of coffee. For that reason, Starbucks is more of a treat than a necessity. Knowing that my Grande Skinny Cinnamon Dolce Latte is about to pumping through me, I might have quickly scurried/jaywalked across the street to the Starbucks next to my building. After I placed my order and moved to the side to wait for my drink, I noticed who was waiting next to me.

Now, at this point in my story, it would be really fun if I could say "Giselle and baby Benjamin!" or "Mark Wahlberg!" or (my personal favorite) "Jenn, Ben and their girls!" (Boston-related celebs, my friends). Fun, yes. What actually happened... no. Not quite. Would have made for a fun Tuesday morning though. And Jenn is always running into Starbucks while Ben is off filming movies-- girlfriend needs the caffeine to keep up with those babies!

So yea. I notice the group of customers who are also waiting for their drinks... and they're no older than 9-10 years old. Um... what? When did KIDS start drinking Starbucks? Am I that out of the loop with the trends? I mean, Starbucks does have a handful of kid-friendly drinks: variations of hot chocolate, apple juice, caramel apple spice, all of which I would be happy to drink. But these kids were hard. core.

"Grande Awake tea Latte for Vivi!"
"Tall espresso Macchiato for James!"
"Tall non-fat peppermint mocha, no whip, for Bryn!"

Y'all, I had to pick my jaw up off of the ground. Act like little kids, for goodness sakes! Is it just the trendiness of walking into school holding a Starbucks cup? Because I NEVER see little ones waiting in line at DD for a drink. Munchkins, yes. Espresso, no. And for the love of pete's sake-- the non-fat, no-whip girl was skin.and.bones. There's no telling who's coaching her to take all of the goodness out of her Starbucks indulgence, but I can for sure say that it was NOT necessary. Needless to say, I was a little bit thrown off by my fellow customers this morning. If they're drinking this much caffeine now, how much will they need to get going when they're old and almost 25, like me?

Ah, well. God bless the teachers who have to deal with their little caffeine-flooded, espresso-driven bodies today. By the end of today, they might be needing something stronger than a stop at Starbucks can fix.

My (frozen) Texan blood.

It is COLD in Boston today.

Since we went to bed at 10 last night, I actually woke up/got up without fighting the alarm this morning and had enough time to turn on the local news, which turned out to be a very good thing because HELLO, 30 DEGREES when we left this morning. I kid you not, my Southern blood was frozen. Bundled up or not, it's still a shock to step outside on the first really chilly day and wait for the dreaded realization that you can officially not expect to be warm, outside of your car or house, again for the next four months, at the very least.

By the time I'd done all of my commuting from the car to the train to the shuttle to my building, I truly could not feel my toes. On top of the frozen, I got a pedicure Saturday afternoon and chose this as my color:


So my pale, pale footsies were looking mighty scary, in contrast with this purpley color (which actually looks almost black on the aforementioned pale, pale feet). It took me a good hour to shake the chill and warm up a bit.

Now, I can't really complain. If you gave me the option of living in a desert or a tundra forever, I'd choose the tundra, hands down, for the following reasons:

My hair manages the cold much better than the heat and humidity.
My body looks much better in jeans and sweaters and long sleeve tops than shorts and tank tops (hello again to the paleness).
Holiday socks are one of my top five favorite things ever, and 4th of July socks don't look nearly as cute as turkeys and Christmas trees.
It is so much more cozy and comfy to come home at the end of the day and change into warm relaxing clothes, versus the shorts and tshirts that I resort to in the summer months.
I am pale and my skin does not like the sun. I am not a fan of sweating/"glowing" simply by walking out of my front door. I spent the first 21 years of my life in Texas proving these points.

On the bright side of cold, the (someday) homemaker in me comes out. My downtime at work is spent scouring food websites for stick-to-our-bones soups and casseroles and pasta dishes... which means my gym time increases as well. The crafty person inside of me that likes to hide away in the warmer months suddenly appears, proposing such lofty ambitions like baking cinnamon rolls for my mom's entire department, handmaking Christmas ornaments for friends, finding decoration ideas and turning myself into Miss DIY. My Christmas card list has been turned into an Excel spreadsheet, and my own wish list, as well as my list of gifts for the people that I will buy for, is in full force.

Come springtime, I'll be exhausted-- I have no doubt in my mind about that. Until then, I'll bundle up in my sweaters and jeans and boots and scarves and love the cold while it's here.

Going along with my need to cook as if we're never going to eat again, supper tonight is Paula Deen's Goulash (majorly modified for both healthyness and servings) and Cheddar-Garlic Biscuits (major love already, and it's only 1:30). If I can remember, I'll try to post pictures-- my goal is to someday keep a food blog, just as soon as I have a better camera... and a camera cord... and a computer whose USB ports actually like to recognize what's plugged in.

I also have tons of pictures from the past couple of weeks but am currently on the hunt for my camera cord. As soon as I find it, the pictures will be up! I also have tales from our birthday/Halloween weekend, so I'll hopefully get that posted tonight.

In the meantime, I'll leave you with two pictures off of my phone:

The "BOO" idea that I found at The Garner Family blog! The letters have been finished for a couple of weeks but I finally hung them up Friday afternoon. Ah, well-- better late than never!

And Brian's Heath Bar Birthday Trifle. This thing almost did me in yesterday afternoon, but it turned out to be ridiculously good (if I do say so myself) and SO stinkin' rich. Birthday Boy approved!


Happy Monday, y'all!

Tight pants make for a moody Monday.

So that whole "Woohoo! I indulged in all of my cravings and ate my way through my weekend and have ZERO guilt or regret!" thing has come back to bite me in the bum.

As enjoyable as this weekend was, I am totally, completely, 100% feeling the after effects of eating so unhealthy. First of all, I slept terribly last night-- I couldn't get comfortable, tossed and turned, basically never fell into a good deep sleep. Once I woke up (at 4:40, in case it has been forgotten how early my mornings start everyday) and headed to the shower, I just felt sluggish/nauseous/icky. After swapping my comfy pajama pants for my (slightly uncomfortable/tight) work pants, it dawned on me that the most likely reason that I feel so gross this morning is the amount of junk that I ate this weekend. Since I've joined WW, I haven't let myself just throw all caution (and points) to the wind eat whatever I wanted like I did this weekend, so I never eat a ton of unhealthy stuff all at once-- more like here and there, and in reasonable portions so that it's not unhealthy, just a splurge (the wise way to do this-- eat healthy the majority of the time so that you can indulge when you'd like to-- duh, Katie).

***This is the point where the lightbulbs start flashing on above me***

Now that I DID have a couple of days where I just ate whatever I wanted... I don't miss it. It is really hard (and weird) for me to believe that my body was used to eating that way. Greasy cheeseburger? Sure! Doritos? Love it! Salty tortilla chips and queso from Chili's? Don't even THINK about taking that away before I scrape the life out of that skillet. My body never used to freak out when I ate unhealthy, because I ate that way all. of. the. time. Since I've completely changed my diet and my lifestyle, I've really come to see how different I feel. I have more energy, I feel healthier, I obviously look healthier... I guess it really does help to eat your veggies.

Now don't get me wrong. I love food. LOVE food. I love to cook and bake and try new recipes and make old faithful recipes and could spend all day reading cooking magazines, cookbooks, and watching the Food Network. Food makes me so happy, but I don't NEED food to BE happy-- big change, my friends. New healthy lifestyle or not, I will eat Velveeta, Mexican food, and pasta until the day I die. It's just all in moderation (biggest lesson of my life).

There was no intention when I started writing this little blurb of it being 100% food-focused, so if you were bored to tears (or if you actually made it this far), props to you! This was more of a journal post than a bloggy post.

I am also happy to report that I have chugged 3 liters of water (I might swim home) and unhappy to report that my tight pants are still making me moody. This, on top of an already manic Monday, make me way too happy that I brought my gym clothes to work with me.

Comfy running pants, here I come!

Our weekend = food. That is all.

This weekend has been just what I personally ordered/requested/demanded of us as a couple. There has been lots and lots of good food, plenty of relaxation (both together and in separate rooms-- let's face it, couples just need that every now and again), and just time to catch up and take a deep breath... finally.

Yesterday morning I was at the gym when they opened at 7 and had a great workout-- I ended up using the Arc Trainer for about 30 minutes, then managed to book it on the treadmill and turn out a 27 minute 5k, which definitely beats my "official" 5k time of 29 minutes! After showering and getting all prettied up for the day, I headed to Old Navy to return two tops that I bought a couple of weeks ago and just ended up not being all that crazy about. After browsing for a bit, I stocked up on a few basics: a white ruffle henley top (cute under cardigans), basic henley-style shirts in purple and black, a hot pink fleece vest (for $5!!), and a super cute pair of orange pajama pants with black cats (and with tiny green eyes-- love!).

From there, Brian and I headed to Macys in search of khakis (for him) and boots (for me). Sadly, my search was unsuccessful, as I am pretty lost in general as to how to decide on a pair of boots and the Macy's shoe department was an absolute mob scene. The rest of our evening entailed seeing Paranormal Activity 2 (still creepy but not as scary as the first, probably because it was filmed in the same format and you kind of knew what to expect), and stopping for dinner at a semi-local restaurant called Not Your Average Joe's. We split guacamole and blue corn tortilla chips for an appetizer and our dinners were Spice-Rubbed Flank Steak (me) and Steak Tips (Brian). It was phe-nom-en-al (as always-- it's for sure one of our favorite spots). We came home, watched TV and had a bit of wine, then headed to bed.

Today has continued the whole theme of perfection, beginning with me sleeping in until 9:30. Y'all, for me on a weekend, that's like I've slept the whole day away. I headed to the gym around 10:30 for a quick workout, then we were off to Chili's to satisfy a craving that I've had for the last week:


That's right, my friends. Not only did we have chips, salsa and queso, but I had this coupon for it! Free food just makes it so much more enjoyable :) And that whole thing about this weekend being all about food... after plowing through the cheesy wonderfulness, we split a Mushroom Swiss Burger and fries, which I have been craving for the last 10 months... no kidding. Chili's isn't all that Weight Watchers friendly in general, so not only do we rarely stop there, but when we do I'm pretty strict about what I order, so to say this indulgence was badly needed is the understatement of the year!

The rest of my day has been spent in bed, in my comfy pajamas, watching Lifetime movies. Love it! I'm off now to throw together our supper-- chicken enchiladas with a black bean and brown rice dish (I figured we'd go out with a bang, after the way we've eaten all weekend).

Since this was indeed the most boring blog post ever, a play by play of my weekend, I promise I'll work on having something a little more interesting soon.

Nothing a good bar of chocolate can't fix...

I just realized that somewhere between last week's PMS shopping spree/semi-binge and right now, a half of a Dove Chocolate Bar with Almonds went missing.

Also chocolate-related, a co-worker has been home in Europe for two and a half weeks and (because she hearts me dearly and I over-explain things to her out of the goodness/kindness of my heart, no matter how long it takes), she brought me this:


I have no idea what type of chocolate it is, other than the fact that it's very high in cocoa because it has fewer calories, according to her (girlfriend knows my never-ending journey to drop the pounds-- she even remembered across the world!). She's just the sweetest person-- she's a bit older than my mom and is always very concerned when I have even the slightest cough, if I look too tired, if I'm looking a bit pale... Anna is all over it.

Also, the best props to Anna: When she hugged me and said she'd missed me so much while she was gone, she stepped back, looked me up and down, and proclaimed "My goodness-- you've lost even more of the weight! You look like a statue!" with the biggest smile on her face (judging from her excitement, I think looking statuesque is a good thing, though I picture like, Giselle Bundchen when I think of "statuesque," though if the comparison is there, I will run with it like the wind).

Today has been one of those days that makes me want to lay on the floor and cry.

The floor of the research building that I work on is really high tech/top notch, and our conference room is dedicated to the previous program director (who was also quite a big deal). Because everyone wants to use the prestigious conference room, it's always booked.

Well, today our little computer just decided to have its own temper tantrum and up and quit working. I've spent the afternoon taking accusations that it's my fault, being questioned as to why I can't fix it (hello, do I LOOK like the Help Desk?), and sending out emails to the meeting coordinators who have the room for the rest of the week to inform them that the essential computer is not working.

Yea, it's been one of those days.

Earlier this morning, my evening was going to consist of going shopping for new work clothes, hitting the gym, and baking/cooking my night away while finishing up a Halloween craft on the side.

As of this very moment, I cannot wait to walk in my door, take a hot shower, and collapse into bed for a nap before I have to face the kitchen and put dinner together. Brian and I have plans to catch up on a lot of DVRd tv and eat our supper (apple bourbon pork tenderloin and parmesan orzo, anyone?) and relax in PJs in bed.

Sounds like a perfect night to me, particularly after the day I've had. And I'm not in a bad mood, although I've fought back tears approximately twelve times today. I just need some good comforting and relaxing tonight.

On a completely selfish note, keep my dad in your thoughts. He's in Houston today and tomorrow with my mom to find out if the frame on his leg can finally FINALLY, after two years, come off.

Thank y'all!

P.S. I'm totally hitting up that chocolate bar this evening.