I Have a Dream...

So, while I was on my blog hiatus, you missed this:

And this:

(Click here to see a 3-1/2  minute video of the night.)

Anyway, since this excursion (two one-pound "Lucifer" burgers plus two pounds of fries at the Tin Cup in St. Paul), Vern has vowed to never again participate in an eating challenge. (I've talked about his previous challenges in this post. This was his 4th challenge.)

Which got me thinking...

I would really, really like to do an eating challenge. But not just ANY eating challenge... it would have to be an ice cream eating challenge. I think I would excel at this incredibly, because I am really, really good at eating ice cream. Seriously good at it, I tell you.

So, I got to looking for an ice cream eating challenge. I couldn't find any in my area, but I did find some promising ones in Illinois. I thought it would make a fun little family vacation to travel someplace so I could enter an ice cream eating challenge.

But then I got to thinking that my strength isn't in the speed that I eat ice cream (because I am not a fast eater, I can just eat A LOT of it), and that these challenges would probably run pretty quickly, lest the ice cream would melt. So, probably not worth traveling out of state to try something like that. What I would need is some sort of challenge where they would keep the ice cream in the freezer for me, and then just feed it to me continuously, at my own speed, until I complete it. Maybe a one hour limit or something, depending on the amount. (I seriously think I could eat an entire gallon, if I tried.)

Anyway, then somebody told me about this place called Nelson's Ice Cream in Stillwater, MN, that has an ice cream challenge. They have something called The Lumberjack, which consists of 5 giant scoops of ice cream plus 3 toppings. Piece of cake, right? And it doesn't say anything about a time limit. But the thing is, all you get for completing it is your picture on the wall. What kind of a prize is that? You don't even get it for free or anything.

So, I might try that one. I'll keep you posted.

(Can you tell how much thought I've given to all of this? A great amount, my dear readers. A great amount.)

The Katy Perry Movie

I went to the Katy Perry movie today. (I know, I know, me of exceptional taste is going to a documentary about a pop musician I don't even know that well.) But I had seen a preview for the movie during our Madagascar 3 Father's Day outing, and I thought it looked really good. I'm a sucker for things like documentaries and memoirs, because I like to look inside people's lives, no matter who they are.

And it turns out Katy Perry is a pretty cool person. She works hard, cares about people, and she just has so much fun with life. I really liked that about her.

So, that's what I did with some much needed time to myself this weekend. It was lovely. And I just love going to the movies. I really do.

Getting Used to Things

Ah, the heat wave has finally broke.

We didn't get much done at the house (since moving) because it was so hot. I had gotten into the habit of taking my pants off immediately after entering the house, and Vern would do the same, except with his shirt. We were quite the interesting pair. And then all of us would just sit in front of fans all day.

Due to our lack of furnishings, our place has a sort of "I'm a college student and I just got my first apartment" feel to it.

I'm not a very good mover (see here and here). It's hard for me to adjust to new surroundings and changes and stuff. I get all emotional and stressed and overwhelmed. I go through this every time we move, and I know this now, so I'm trying to go easy on myself this time.

Give me about a month, and I'll be fine.

St. Paul!

We did it. We moved to St. Paul.

During the hottest week of the year. Where we have no air conditioning.

Sunday, Vern and I came to put the place together. (There were beds that needed to be assembled, stuff that needed to be put away, etc.). First thing, Vern went out to buy some furniture pads, and I stayed back to put things together. I stood amidst the mess, not knowing where to start.

So, the first thing I decided to do was to switch the hinges on the refrigerator so that the door opened toward the kitchen (instead of away from it). I wasn't very good at doing such a thing, so when Vern got back, he ended up fixing the mess I had made out of it. "This was a poor choice to start with," I said. "Sorry."

I thought I would have felt some sort of... something (release? exhale? I don't know what to call it), in having all of our stuff out of storage and back with us again. I even bought back our table (which I loved), that I had sold to a friend, and I got back my grandma's bedroom set from my uncle. I thought I would have felt some sort of... something, in having a place to ourselves again.

But, instead, I feel nothing. I feel the same. I feel exhausted and hot and like there is a lot more to do to get this place together, so maybe that has contributed to the fact that I haven't had my exhale yet, I don't know.

I really do like our place though. It is beautiful. Nice hardwood floors and woodwork.

Here are some pictures:

Here's the refrigerator. Check out how those doors swing open toward the kitchen. That was my idea. I'm a genius.

(Note: I have a bunch of empty shelves and I don't really know what to put on them.)

Oh, and my friend, our landlord, who is a soapmaker (slash midwive slash herbalist), left out this beautiful soap for us.

And her daughter made us these cupcakes:

Bye Bye Y

I cancelled my membership to the YMCA the other day.

With our move coming up (July 1!) and getting used to a new environment in that regard, I didn't want to have to get used to a new YMCA and exercise routine right away as well. I think it's better for me to ease into all of these changes.

But, oh, how I do love the Y. My routine consists of Body Pump (two times a week), Tabata (one to two times), and yoga (once a week). I love it. I love being strong. I'm one of the strongest people in the Body Pump class (except for when it comes to the dead row, which I can't lift strong on for the life of me).

And I love this particular Body Pump instructor so very much, I'm not ready to get used to another one. (It's kind of like not wanting to get a new pet too soon after your old one dies.)

So, I will settle into this summer, doing a minimal amount of things (if I can help it), and then perhaps pick up with the Y again in the fall.

Do you want to know how much I weigh? I weigh 137 pounds. I don't feel like I weigh 137 pounds, and I don't think I look like I weigh 137 pounds, so I'm wondering if a lot of that weight is muscle.

I wonder what my Body Pump instructor weighs? It would be weird to ask her. But she won't be seeing me again after June 30, so what do I care?

(I do care, of course, because she's really cool and I don't want her last impression of me to be of a nerd asking her how much she weighs... instead, she'll remember me as the nerd who wore stupid gym shorts with paint on them and couldn't do a decent dead row.)