EXTREME MAKEOVER -- BEFORE & AFTER

"How was your weekend?"

That phrase is pretty much the stuff of which all Monday mornings are made, around the office. And though I don't usually have any earth-shattering weekend stories to share, today I actually did have a good one of the glass-shattering variety.

I'll spare everyone the sordid blow-by-blow details, but somehow (and I really have absolutely no idea how) I went out for a Sunday jaunt in the Hoopty-Honda yesterday and wound up jumping a curb and plowing into and over a neighbor's mailbox. And when I say neighbor, I mean the house directly across the street from my next-door neighbor. We're talking neighbors (don't ask me how I possibly got up enough speed to cause this level of destruction... I guess I've not been giving ol' Hoopty her due). But that whole thing about accidents occurring close to home? I found out it's true. And though I've lived in my neighborhood for almost two years, I hadn't met these nice folks yet... frankly, I don't really recommend mailbox annihilation as a means of introduction.

The whole thing happened in the nano-blink of an eye. And by the time I'd gotten down the street far enough to get my wits about me and turn the ol' Hoopty around, the addressees of said mailbox had already heard the loud ka-boom and come running outside to investigate the origin of the ruckus. What they found was a mailbox post unbolted from the concrete below, the box completely ripped off the post (impact with a windshield will do that), and about a 20-gallon stone planter with its potting soil and flowers strewn across the driveway. Remember that scene in Back to the Future where Biff and his friends run into the manure truck and get covered? It was kind of like that-- but with dirt instead of poo. It was an Extreme Curbside Makeover of magnificent splendor. And the precise dollar value of this splendor is still TBD. So far, I have horked up $700 for a new cast aluminum mailbox that adheres to our neighborhood covenants, and that doesn't count the cost of repair to the Hoopty. Which is a whole blog unto itself... because let's be honest: Hoopty probably isn't worth $1,800 from bumper to bumper. So I'll be Biff'd if I'm going to pour that much into sprucing her up. I think she's just going to have to be uglier than normal for the rest of her natural life.

Here's a little "before and after" for your viewing pleasure...

And if you're wondering how Hoopty fared...

I know, she was a real beaut before. But I think the busted windshield, scratched front fender and demolished mirror add to the old girl's swagger.

As Brittnee so eloquently put it "She has street cred now."

In fact, I've driven her to two different places since the incident... and so far I'm two for two with queries about her demise. Hail and flying baseballs are the front-runners thus far. But nope, I just smile with pride and tell them it was all me. Well, all me... with a little help from a USPS-certified mail receptacle.

I think we really delivered. Don't you?

A NEW APPROACH...

This month, instead of waiting until the end of May to grouse and complain about how I didn't meet my goals, I've decided to declare defeat early...

Here it is, 11 days to go, and I'm just going to have to say it: my resolutions are in the toilet. Flush. Zip up the fly. Walk out of the stall.

For all of my great intentions, I have just not been cutting it with the diet. In fact, my focus has pretty much waned to nothing. I ate like I was on death row all weekend, then blew it out at Ruth's Chris last night... ridiculous, copious amounts of delicious food. I really didn't even feel guilty about it, which is a sign that I'm in really bad shape, mentally. Once I stop caring, it's hard to resurrect the willpower.

So I've decided to try another tactic to meet my resolutions. I'm envisioning positive changes and hoping they'll take root in my life. It's that whole cheesy "if you can see it, you can be it" thing. Maybe I should paper my refrigerator doors with photos of rock-solid abs. Heck, I don't even mind being a little doughy through the middle... I just don't want to look like Mrs. Butterworth anymore.

Mark has been a positive influence lately; he's doing NutriSystem again. I have to admire that... It's not pleasant in any way. It's ironic that my decline has come at the precise moment he's getting his nutritional act together. So that's one more reason to try harder. I'm stating my June goals early and giving myself plenty of time to meet them:

"I will lose 6 lbs before June 30 and I will shave off another $1,000 in debt".
(And I'm clicking my heels together and saying it aloud three times, just for good measure.)

The financial part I'm not so worried about. I've given up spending any money, with hardly a thought. Every month is getting me closer to that little red C350. And when the credit cards reach zero, it's on. I had nurtured the fantasy that our annual pay raises would be fantastic this year, and that I would somehow carve off all the debt in one fell swoop and run straight to the Mercedes dealership-- but then I woke up to reality! One can only build their car online so many times until the thrill wears off, though. Which leads me to wonder if a website exists, where I could build my own virtual waistline and watch the pounds melt away? That might be an interesting "if you can see it, you can be it" exercise... well, for my fingers, anyway. I know the real effort of weight loss takes place between your ears.

Ok, so let's recap. I was a stinker in May. And now I'm telling the negative thoughts that they are no longer welcomed in my head, rent-free. It's time to get the heck out. No more "if you can see it, you can eat it" mindset!

Look out, June 30... I'm heading your way! I may be traveling by foot instead of my '08 Mercedes-- but I'm enroute!

WEIGHING IN ON WEIGHING IN

I've been stalling on the monthly blog entry regarding the progress of my '08 weight-loss goals-- especially in light of all this class reunion business. So this time, there are no cutesy song lyrics and no overtly optimistic declarations in typical Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm fashion. Nope, I'm cutting right to the chase. I'm going to take my medicine. I made this bed and it's my big, wide size-14 butt that will have to lie in it.

I didn't lose a single pound in the month of April.

In fact, I came back from vacation ten pounds heavier than when I left. I basically went on a two-week bender and ate like I was on death row. Desserts. Pizza. Sushi. Hamburgers. Desserts. Pasta. Candy. French fries. Desserts. Potato chips. Cookies. Fast food. Ice cream. And did I mention desserts? All the carbs I have denied myself since January were consumed tenfold. Tastes great but definitely not less filling!

So for the past two weeks, I've been really diligent (well, except for a slight fall off the proverbial wagon, when I ate copious amounts of oatmeal cookie dough on Sunday). The vacation weight is back off, though, and I'm basically in the same place I was on April 1. Would I change anything, if I could do it over again? No. I have a fundamental belief that vacations are about freedom and enjoying oneself, so it's no use lamenting the fact that I've squandered a month's progress. I do wish I had exercised a little more self-control, and also that I had just exercised. But I'm not going to beat myself up over it. Instead, I'm going to barf out all the details here, then pull up my big girl pants and do better in May! I rode my mountain bike for the first time in a long time on Monday, and although it was difficult, it felt good. I decided it was time to show the bike some love... it and the treadmill, I believe, are lonely and contemplating a sleazy affair. And I just hate being cheated on.

Now, onto part deux of my '08 resolutions: the finances. I actually had a remarkably good month in this area. Fortunately, you can't eat dollar bills, so they were safe from my voracious appetite and actually went where they should last month... to the creditors! I paid out a total of $1,400 in April, so I actually exceed goal. As vacations go, I spent surprisingly little. We did enjoy a day at my favorite mall in the world-- but it really wasn't that tempting, since I'm not keen on buying clothes in my current size. A new Coach bag was the only splurge.

Also, my credit score has increased 25 points since December, which I didn't even realize was possible. Although it wasn't part of my '08 resolutions, I have an unofficial goal to hit 800, and I feel like it's finally well within reach. The 401k also made a few strides last month. Increasing my 401k contributions will be the next item on the list. Wow, I really sound like a grown-up when I talk about retirement! How very strange and unfamiliar.

Along the lines of the unfamiliar, I keep realizing how nice it is not having a car payment... Admittedly, I have to state it out loud at times, because that convertible BMW is still on the lot. It beckons me to visit it still, but my visits are less frequent. In fact, I'm not even stopping by to look at it once a week now. The "car lust" is starting to wane a bit, and that's a good thing. Now, if we could just do something about the "carb lust".

I'll be working on that in May. And you'll be the first to know.

Oh, by the way, Mikey G... I threw in the foot/scale photo for you. I know you've voiced suspicions of my reputed foot fetish and are probably going to call me out on it!

STILL OBSESSING ABOUT MY REUNION

44 DAYS TO GO... BUT WHO'S COUNTING?


The day the letter about the reunion arrived, I was so excited. I’d been expecting it, so I couldn’t tear open the envelope quickly enough! I read the letter three times, along with the questionnaire on the second page. Over the past couple of weeks, I've read it dozens of times. I'm 100% certain I'll attend the reunion— I mean, my insatiable curiosity will never allow me to stay home on June 21. I’m dying to know what everyone has been up to the past two decades! There’s just one hold-up:

“What have you been doing for the past 20 years?”

Gulp. Those ten little words paralyze me. It’s the first question on the page, and as much as I hate to admit it, that one little sentence has stopped me dead in my tracks for days. I've finally realized I can’t put it off any longer. It’s time to “man up” and answer all the questions (including dreaded question #1). I need to check the “Yes, I will attend” box, enclose my reunion dues, and plop my envelope in the mailbox. But how do you sum up 20 whole years in a mere line-and-a-half ?

I simply can’t do it! Too many hours spent a-blogging have rendered me incapable of writing out so much as a grocery list… I can’t form a cohesive thought unless my fingers have contact with a keyboard. And this particular writing-exercise is compounded by the acute anxiety I feel about answering these questions. I know my responses will be the basis for the many snap-judgments my former classmates could (and probably will) form about my life and accomplishments. Maybe I’m over-thinking this… Maybe everyone else just whipped out a pen, without giving it a second thought, and hastily scribbled down a few milestones, the names/ages of their kids, and their exciting hobbies… Maybe I need professional help. Does anyone know a capable bio writer who could help me with this pantagruelian task?

Ok... Sit up straight, like a big girl... Take a few deep breaths... Ready. Set. Answer the questionnaire.


What have you been doing for the past 20 years?
I graduated from the U of A with a BA in Communication in 1993 and went to work for J.B. Hunt Transport, where for the past 15 years I’ve had a job that I love (most days, anyway). Being a late bloomer, I finally bought my first home a couple of years ago and share it with two snarky Siamese cats, which are my sole proof of responsible adulthood. Hiding out at the office occupies most of my waking hours. My second great passion is planning what to do with my vacation-time; it seems there’s never enough of it, so I try to make it count.

Are you married?
Happily single since 2001.

How many children do you have?
I’m the only kid I’m trying to raise.

Have you stayed close to home or been all over?
I’ve stayed in NWA and currently live in north Springdale (Bethel Heights).

Where else have you lived?
The furthest I've strayed was Bella Vista for two or three years in the late ‘90s.

What kind of work do you do?
I head up the Advertising department— buying media, writing ads, developing campaigns and executing driver-oriented promotions. I like the work and I love my co-workers, who keep me in stitches.

Who would you most like to see at the reunion?
I’m most excited to see the girlfriends I haven’t stayed in contact with the past several years: Pam (Bell) Phillips and Kathy (Watkins) Williams.

What is your best high school memory?
My most vivid classroom memory is from Home Ec, when Mrs. Dennis told us: “My, you girls are wound up today! Am I going to have to put you in a closet?” Looking back, I’m sure we deserved to be locked up. Most of my memories seem to revolve around breaks, lunches, pep rallies or assemblies— and the nonsense we were always talking and passing notes about!

Who have you thought of over the years and wondered “What ever happened to __?”
I think of John Gloria when the Pur commercials come on. If that’s not him, he has a doppelganger in the water filter business.

What are your current interests?
I love to travel, read, blog and spend time outdoors.

What do you do for fun?
I enjoy getting outside— hiking, floating and exploring Arkansas.

If you could change anything about high school, what would it be?
If I could go back and change anything, it would be having more of a social circle outside of school hours… I wish I’d had more experiences, just hanging out with friends.

Is there anything you would like to say to the class of ’88?
I hope we all have better hair than we did twenty years ago!


Wow. That wasn’t as hard as I thought. And typing it out helped. I hope this version will do— until that professional bio writer comes through with my “real” responses. In the meantime, I’m off to sign myself up for “Extreme Makeover – Julie Edition”. Who knows what that biographer might have me doing? Undoubtedly, it will be glamorous, so I’d better look the part!


And a little PS to the Reunion Committee— I’m not enclosing a current photo, as requested. The way I see it, I’ve got 44 days until the big reveal... and I’m long overdue for a miracle!

20 YEARS... HOLY CLASS REUNIONS, BATMAN!

I just recently found out my first big class reunion is coming up... What?? How can I be attending a 20-year reunion, when I'm only 27 myself?

Ok, so I'm 27 only in my head... my face has 37 written all over it. But despite that fact, I continually forget my real age... it's weird. I think it's because I'm one of the few thirty-somethings still living like I'm in my 20's. While thinking about all this, I've come to the conclusion that I'm a habitual late-bloomer. Single. No kids. And heck, I only recently started thinking about grown-up things like mortgages, 401k, cars that aren't fun to drive and sensible footwear. I like the first two ok, but that last one really sticks in my craw.

A 20-year reunion of the class of '88... This is quite a milestone, and one I can't quit thinking about. I've been trying to come up with a clever answer for my little "what I've been doing the past two decades" bio. Chronologically, it goes something like this:

1988 - High School Graduation

1993 - College Graduation

1993 - Started getting up and going to work every day

1994 - Got married

2001 - Got divorced and started living happily-ever-after

2006 - Bought my first home (which I consider my biggest accomplishment, since I'm doing it on my own)


Ok, so that pretty much timelines my big milestones, but what about all the little moments in between? Those are the real essence of a life... the good stuff, like the sweet filling in the middle of an Oreo (which I would love to have, if I were starving myself for this crazy reunion). So how do you sum up the good stuff for people you don't know anymore and haven't seen since President Reagan denounced Libyan terrorists for blowing up that Pan Am flight over Lockerbie and Rick Astley sang "Never Gonna Give You Up"? Heck, I work in advertising so I should be able to come up with a few eloquent words to put it into a tidy little package so my erstwhile classmates can make snap judgments about me... right?

Let me get back to you on that.

POVERTY SUCKS... SO DO POMPOUS JERKS

Dude, you own a fantastic boat, docked in the Keys. Why rub it in like that? Do you really need to make us working stiffs feel that much worse? Really??

OUT CATTING AROUND IN THE WOODS... AGAIN

Say hello to my little friend from Natural Bridge, Alabama.

I know I really should be posting pictures of the beautiful scenery in that area-- but this shot was my favorite one of the bunch, for some reason. I'm sure my ridiculous soft spot for felines has nothing to do with it.

Natural Bridge is the longest natural-rock bridge east of the Rockies and was formed by water eleventy-gazillion years ago... It's basically a big, rock arch that you can't walk across, but can look up and admire. If you're ever passing through this area, north of Birmingham, be sure to drive in and hike up to the bridge. It only costs, like, two bucks to get in and is more than worth the price. You'll see some gorgeous scapes and rock formations, including one in the shape of an "indian face" and a cave dwelling that's really spectacular.

Well, about the time I got under the ledge and inside the dwelling, I saw a little tortie-shell kitty in the cave. At first, I thought I must be having some kind of mystical native american experience... I mean, I was long overdue for some cattitude, afterall. But as it turns out it wasn't a crazy peyote-induced cat spirit, afterall. She let me pick her up and I carried her as I proceeded around the inner path of the cave, back outside and down the trail. She was content to ride in my arms a good, long way-- which seemed odd, since hiking through the woods isn't exactly a pleasure cruise. Anyway, I guess we both needed what the other one had to give that day.

Once we completed the entire trail and crossed back up toward the visitor's center, I saw this little grey sweetie (in the photo above). He was very friendly... I think he would've jumped in the car and ridden back to Arkansas with me-- which I wouldn't have minded so much, except that Spencer and Sydney would not have been pleased.

So here's the inevitable line... I'm sure you all knew it was coming:

CATS ROCK!

ACTING ALL CRABBY...

I took this photo, so I'm just going to do a little bragging... I'm not much of a photog, as a rule, but I think this one turned out pretty good.

But then I did have a white sand beach, a cute little hermit crab, a nice guy and a wide expanse of bright, blue sky to work with-- so maybe I don't need to take too much credit here, afterall.

15 WEIRD, RANDOM FACTS ABOUT ME

1) As I child, I almost fell into the blades of a working windmill in Holland. My poor mother still goes pale and gets heart palpitations when I bring it up.

2) I have an insane knack for recognizing voices... I'm like a voice savant or something. I wish I could figure out a way to make money off this "talent".... Maybe one of these days. But 'til then, the TV commercial voice-overs from obscure celebs continue to help me hone this bizarre skill...

3) I once wore two different shoes to work. Sad thing is, they were of two drastically different heel heights and I didn't notice it for almost 12 hours.


4) I had a poster of Bo Duke (John Schneider) taped to the inside of my closet door, growing up. I kissed it goodnight every night. I finally had to take the poster down because it got all jacked up-- eventually frayed and devoid of ink around the mouth.

5) My Dad is a minister and my Mom used to model lingerie. (Explains a lot, eh? hahaha)

6) The Queen of Pop and I share the same birthday, August 16. Incidentally, the King of Rock & Roll also died on this day in 1977. The way I figure, that makes me the Princess of Pock… well, or something along those lines. (Madonna / Elvis, by the way). Others celebrating on this day are Steve Carrell (Yay!), Kathie Lee Gifford (Not so Yay), Frank Gifford (yeah, seriously) and Vanessa Carlton.

7) I'm planning to skydive.

8) Although a law-abiding citizen in every other way, I have a penchant for lifting glassware from public establishments. My collection from BB King's in Memphis is quite impressive, if I say so myself. But my Acambaro cup at the office certainly hogs all the glory.

9) I've never been in the hospital or had any kind of serious illness or injury. I even stayed awake when I had all four wisdom teeth cut out. (Although, if I keep stealing barware, karma will probably catch up… Note to self…)

10) In the sixth grade, my feelings were terribly hurt when the boys at school nick-named me "Flat Girl". I was a late bloomer, but I guess I showed those jerks the next year...

11) My first car was a two-toned 1979 Monte Carlo. Very Napoleon Dynamite.

12) With a little help from Aqua-Net, I was Prom Queen in 1988.

13) In my entire life, I have only consumed a whole beer... once. Yes, you read that right: one beer in 37 years. I don't generally have a tricky gag reflex, but I had to shoot it to get it down… I abhor the taste.

14) I've dipped Copenhagen. I have to say I preferred it to the beer.

15) I once submitted a 14-page application and video, begging the Extreme Makeover TV show to pick me. In a cruel twist of irony, I weighed 30 lbs less than I do now.

16) I don't particularly like babies, Christmas or dogs. That one may not be a surprise to some of you, so that's why it's number 16... consider it a freebie of sorts!

I'd like to invite all of my blog-inclined friends to play along... if you post 15 weird, random facts about yourself, please be sure to let me know!

THE REESE'S-MOBILE

I saw this slick ride in Ft. Lauderdale last week, and just couldn't resist snapping a quick pic.

This may be a marketing vehicle (literally, a marketing vehicle) for Hershey, who has definitely done it's part over the years, contributing to my ever-expanding waistline with all of those sinful peanut butter cups. Maybe this is a peanut butter coupe? No, I think it was a sedan... but I digress...

I'd like to think that the person behind this wheel is a brand maven to the inth degree-- someone so snack-obsessed that they would spend their own hard-earned dollars to deck out a car in full Reese's regalia. Frankly, I admire that kind of commitment... you don't see that level of passion in most people. I wouldn't go this far, myself. Not that Reese's isn't a worthy product, but I can't see rolling up to work in the Reese's-Mobile. It would have to be something I've devoted my life to... a Diet Coke-Mobile, perhaps. It would also have to be something cooler than a Caprice. And 86 the rims.

So Coca-Cola execs, if you're out there and you feel the need for a little extra brand representation in NWA: Make mine a Diet Coke muscle car. Preferably the up and coming Camaro convertible, but I ain't choosy. I'll even dress up like a straw while I'm driving it around, if you like. I can't promise the straw won't be a little lumpy in a few spots... but that kind of goes back to the "too many peanut butter cups" thing I mentioned in the beginning. So let me retract my statements... I believe I may be a better fit for the Reese's-Mobile, afterall...

"DARE MIGHTY THINGS": WORDS TO LIVE BY

Who would've thought that stopping in at Bud & Mary's would yielded up this little gem of wisdom? This is a quote from Teddy Roosevelt, and I can't think of anything to add. Wonderful.

I just read a couple of days ago that under Roosevelt's administration the White House was renovated so that the second floor would accomodate his children's exotic pets-- including raccoons, snakes, a badger and a bear. A menagerie in the White House? Now that's what it means to dare mighty things, alright.

SUNSET OVER ISLAMORADA

On Thursday, we were still in Key Largo, contemplating the next move. Should we drive back up to Vero Beach or ramble around the keys one more day? Did we really have to ask that question... really? Like the Allman Brothers, I fancy that I too was born a ramblin' man (or something like that) so maybe it was more of a rhetorical question. Besides, these are the Florida freakin' Keys and there's no telling how long it might be before we are here again.

We thought we'd see about a tarpon fishing charter for the night and start the drive down to Key West to spend the day. That's one place I've always wanted to see, so we decided to completely disregard that we were moving further in the opposite direction of home, and just went with the flow. I think I'm missing Sydney and Spencer more than I'm willing to admit, because all I could think about were the polydactyl kitties down there. I needed to get to those cats... Well, those cats and Hemingway's house and Duval Street and lots of kitschy tourist swag... I know, nerd-o-rama. But the closer we got, the more excited I was.

Turns out, getting a charter set up "on the day of" proved a little harder than expected... it took a good two hours, which cut into my exploring-Key-West-time. Crap. But this is vacation so it's no biggie. As long as I get some beach time and some sun, I'm golden-- both literally and figuratively, which is infinitely better than being at home in the workweek grind. We'd booked a tarpon-fishing excursion to begin at 6 pm, so there was no time to enjoy Key West and do it justice, anyway. We found a decent place to soak up some sun, Anne's Beach, which turns out is a clothing optional area. Yes, we landed at a potentially nude beach, which I discovered when Googling nearby beaches. Thank goodness no one exercised the option! Vacations always shore up my fundamental belief that people, by and large, are just not cute. Not that there aren't plenty of homely folks in NWA, but there's a wider variety, including foreign travelers, away from home.

Ok, so we beached... we shopped... we ate... we relaxed... and finally met our Captain, Danny Brown, at the marina at 6 pm. I'm not that avid a fisherman, but being out on the boat was great fun. We'd already caught several kinds of fish from the dock in Vero, plus saw a porpoise, a couple of manatees and a gator so far on the trip, so I took a book to bury my head in. I enjoy fishing well enough, but for me the sights, sounds and smell of the ocean make it a total sensory experience that requires no action on my part to enhance it. Over the next several hours, we had several big tarpon bites and a good fight with one of them, but never did get one in the boat. What we did get in the boat, though, was a bonnethead shark-- a member of the hammerhead family with big round eyes on the side of its flattened head.

That was pretty exciting, I have to say.

But the best part of the whole trip so far...

Watching the sunset over the ocean. Ahhh...

I know there's no place like home. But I'm not ready to leave this halcyon paradise just yet. For now, let's stick with there's no place like the tranquil sunset over Islamorada. Papa, I'll catch up with you and your amply-toed felines next time.

PELICANS ARE FUNNY

Well, not as funny as goats-- but they have the same quirky, comical demeanor that makes them amusing to observe. For me, they're kind of the goats of the sea... except that they can dive down and swoop fish up and into their pouches. I'd like to see a goat do that.

We've been watching the pelicans swim around the docks, totally "disinterested" in the fishermen who are cleaning and filleting the day's catch. Kind of reminds me of the way people act when someone totes a box of Krispy Kremes into the office: A few swoop right in for the take... But most circle, behaving rather nonchalantly and engaging in idle activity that can be halted the nanosecond the coast is clear.

ISLAMORADA

KEY LARGO RESORT AT MANATEE BAY

Not too shabby for a former Ho Jo... I recommend it, if you're ever get to Key Largo. And I definitely recommend getting to Key Largo.

PHOTO OF THE AFRICAN QUEEN, KEY LARGO

AFRICAN QUEEN

The original boat used in the filming of The African Queen is docked at one of the marinas in Key Largo. One of the original steam engines can also be seen next door in the lobby of the Holiday Inn. I just IMDb'd the movie, and it's from 1951. I don't think we'll be taking the African Queen out for a cruise today, though the sign above says that it's for hire. Hmmm... Let's see... a rusty old vessel that required a lot of encouragement from the Captain (along with a few kicks and bangs from a hammer), before it sank at the end of the movie, 57 years ago? Call me unadventurous, but that doesn't sound like a great idea to me.

If I want to perish in a vacation-related boating activity, I'll just take in the Titanic exhibit next time I'm in Branson.

JULIE'S CORONA COMMERCIAL

Ok, so I don't actually drink beer... but I do "drink in" lovely sunsets in Key Largo. This is the view from the little beachfront at the Key Largo Resort at Manatee Bay-- which lived up to its name, as we had just spotted a manatee swimming up to spend the evening in warmer waters. I took this picture just as we were nestling ourselves into a couple of cozy lounge chairs and sitting back to enjoy the best time of the day...

I wished that I could bottle up the sunset and save it for later. But the camera on my PDA did a pretty decent job... the only thing missing was a function for capturing the smells as well as the sights. I do love the fresh ocean air.

WHAT I MISS ABOUT THE 80'S: TODAY, QUANTUM LEAP

Remember Dr. Sam Beckett's weekly adventures as he randomly leapt across space and time to inhabit the bodies of various individuals, helping them right their wrongs for the greater good?

I loved this show in 1989. It was quirky, there was always a moral, and you never knew what kind of situation (or body) Sam would find himself in. The only thing you could be sure of is that the next leap would not be the one home and that Sam would always utter the requisite "Oh, boy" and see himself in the mirror so you'd get a little teaser for coming episode. You knew Sam would bounce to the next situation and uncover the obscure dilemma, with the help of his sidekick Al (who appeared only to Sam as a hologram) and Al's little gizmo Ziggy.

The plots were fresh and the show had a conscience-- something that seems to be missing from a lot of tv shows today.

MY DIET IS FAILING, AND I BLAME GERRY RAFFERTY

Well, I feel the need for a mid-month post about my dieting struggles. Mid-month, heck... we're only 8 days in. The ship may not be sinking, but it's taking on water (and carbs) at an alarming rate.

Let me start at the beginning. Last night, Mark and I went to feed the wild kitties. We discovered them back in the fall, one night when we drove past the old IBM building in Fayetteville. There were seven of them, playing in the parking lot, until we drove up and they scattered. Ever since then, we've gotten into this routine of taking them treats and catfood... and last night, it was some leftover chicken I'd cooked and not eaten. So we sat there for about half an hour, trying to build up some mutual trust as we coaxed them toward us with pieces of baked chicken breast. It's always fun feeding the wild cats. But it's amazing how you can work up an appetite. And in retrospect, I would have been better off sampling the kitties' baked chicken, because Applebee's was looming just up the hill. Like a carb-laden spectre of doom.

We walk into Applebee's, get seated, wash our hands and order. So far, so good. I stick with an order of a salad with grilled chicken. I'm hanging tough... no way I'll succumb to temptation tonight. And then Applebee's lulls me into submission with their feel-good 70's music. Have you ever noticed the music at Applebee's? It's insanely good. Much better than the food. I spend as much time singing along as I do eating, which is a winning combination, up to a point. And that point comes when you find yourself singing along to "Right Down The Line" and waxing philosophical over the musical genius that was Gerry Rafferty. No sooner than I'd said, "Remember Baker Street and Stuck In The Middle With You?", the words "I'll have a Maple Butter Blondie, please" tumbled right out. Suddenly, I didn't mind being 30 lbs overweight. Gerry Rafferty made me feel like a million bucks, and in an instant I was ordering a dessert with 71 carbs! That's, like, two whole days worth!

What am I going to do on vacation next week? My self-control is MIA. I've embarked on a spree that I can't seem to get a handle on. I don't have all the answers, but I think my TimeLife CD's had better not make the trip. I think there's some serious backmasking going on in restaurants. That's why all the tv's are set to closed-captioning... the music tracks contain some Svengali-like magic that stimulates dessert sales. I'm convinced that if you play "Right Down The Line" at just the proper speed, it says "Order the 71-carb dessert, Julie". Where is Tipper Gore and the PMRC when I need them? Can't they form the DMRC-- the Dieter's Music Resource Center-- to help combat the restaurants' musical voodoo I've fallen victim to?

Maybe this is all in my head. Maybe it's time to invest in a noise-blocking aparatus or some headphones I'd be too embarrassed to wear in public. Maybe it's time to stop dining out altogether. Maybe it's time to eat the catfood instead. Maybe Gerry Rafferty isn't enemy #1. Maybe it's time to stop making excuses.

Hmmm. I think I'll put on my Soft Rock CD's and ponder this conundrum.