Ewwwwww.

Someone did an MSN search for "TerrIfI( SHeM@1es" and someone ended up at my blog.

And it was at 7:46 in the morning.

That's spooky.

Funniest Quote from Dinner

"My lasagna was cold but I'm OK with it"
-SH

No Crazy Cat Lady Comments Allowed.

This is from my pal Todd's blog. He is on my blogroll.

One last cat note: my friend Jamie Foehl now lives in North Carolina, basically happy but occasionally bored, and she decided to cope with the slow times through volunteerism on behalf of animals but was surprised when local authorities told her that what they really needed was someone to go out at night in the woods laying traps for feral cats so they could be spayed and neutered (speaking of which: congrats to libertarian Drew Carey for getting Bob Barker's old Price Is Right gig – there has to be some way to turn that show into a free-market economics lesson). So Jamie found herself putting cages with sardines in them out in the woods, assisted by an elderly cat-lady, late on a Saturday night. She says that in the morning, they’d caught exactly one cat. “Those feral cats are wily,” comments my friend Scott Nybakken

Birthday in a Box #6. Newall, my boss. He is a Group Account Director. I aspire to be a Group Acccount Director. Or not.

#5
Bob just had to upstage Barb balancing on his side like this.

Jim and the Snooky's Gang at Two Boots.

Yummy Cake.

Yes, quite yummy.

Party in a Box on a Blog #4

Princess, my sister, in Seattle.

Lena, friend of Princess with cat.

David Lewis. He has 50 girlfriends. I am one of them.

Party in A Box (Party on a Blog!) #3. Deb, Paul and Thea.

Party in a Box #2

Cliff and Wendy who were running around getting ready for a European adventure the day before my birthday. Where did they go? See the next picture.


Ellen and Trudy

Grumpy Rod. Always Grumpy. The Grinch who stole my birthday.

Lisa works in Finance. The auditors are in town. And she is still smiling. If you look closely you can see classified information on her spreadsheet on the monitor.

"Party in a Box" Installment #1.

My best birthday present this year: My friends. My friends and family took pictures of themselves celebrating my birthday. All the pics were printed and sent to me in a box that arrived on my birthday. Partay! In a box.

Barb, my super-dupe acrobatic pal. Doing a one handed-handstand and holding three candles in her hand. Photograph by B. Ranew.

All my pooches in Seattle. Photograph by Princess.

The creatures who emerged from my sink at The Farm (here's the link to the story).

Sandra, Minneapolis pal.

True True True Trudy. Mama Goatie. Scary Goatie.

This post ends with one of my favorite poems. It was shared with me on my birthday at summer camp by friend Kristen Case. It's the perfect poem for August 9th. It's around this time you realize there's only one more week of camp. You realize that school starts again in this month. The last verse is my favorite. This is the time we have.

This summer was the most summeriest summer I've had since camp. I didn't wear socks. Ever. I went to the beach. Twice (NC, SC). No, three times if you count the Illinois State Beach (which was frigid and buggy). I spent two hours just floating on my noodle talking to a friend at the Eno Quarry. I went swimming at the Eno Quarry in the middle of the day. Twice. Skinny-dipped (sort of). Swam in another quarry that was overlooked by a castlelike hotel. Hiked Devil's Lake in WI, Ice Caves in Ellenville, the American Tobacco Trail in another Ellenville. I saw snow. Twice. Temperatures were in the hundreds. I rode my bike every weekend. Got freaked out by violent thunderstorms. I fell asleep in a hammock with a book. Twice. I piled onto a hammock with four other friends and didn't spill my wine. The Farm provided several encounters with nature that reminded me of living in a little cabin in the woods. Friendships with pals like Ellen and Barb reminded me of the sisterhood I have with my dear, dear lifelong camp friends.

Those who know me know that my camp years (1986-1999)are among the most special years I have. This summer felt a little bit like camp and for that I am lucky.

So, with that, here's the poem. Enjoy. This is the time we have.

this high summer we love will pour its light
the fields grown rich and ragged in one strong moment
then before we're ready will crash into autumn
with a violence we can't accept
a bounty we can't forgive
night frost will strike when noons are warm
the pumpkins wildly glowing
the green tomatoes straining huge on vines
queen anne and blackeyed susan will struggle rusty
as the milkweed stakes her claim
she who will stand at last dark sticks barely rising
up through snow her testament of continuation

we'll dream of a longer summer
but this is the one we have
i lay my sunburnt hand on your table:
this is the time we have.

-Adrienne Rich

"30 x 30"

So, this post is a little more personal than I might get otherwise. Part of the reason I'm sharing this is because I'm proud, but I've also gotten lots of questions about "How did you do it?" and this is the long answer.

Here goes.

I was always a bit of a pudgy teen. I got to Carleton and gained even more weight eating Lucky Charms for breakfast, snack, lunch, snack again, you get the point. Then, sometime around my Junior year I said "This is insane. Jamie, you tend to be able to accomplish anything you put your mind to. Put your mind to getting rid of this chub."

And I did.

I exersized twice a day at the gym and following healthy meal recipes to a T. I never ever cheated. I made myself forget things like cookies and ice cream.

Completely eliminating sweets is not a method recommended by some because the risk is it drives you nuts and suddenly you're at Ben & Jerry's eating a Vermontster.

It wasn't quite that extreme, but, more or less, that's what happened to me. What I was doing was working, but it was unsustainable, even for someone with my self-control. Eating and exersizing were getting very very boring.

And then came the complications of the "real" world.

I graduated Carleton and moved to New York City at 125 pounds (relax, I'm 5'7). One stressful day at work I ate a cookie. And I was like. "Oh my. This is good. No wonder people like this."

And slowly but surely, the demands and stress of my entry level advertising job wiped out my efforts to eat well and exersize and I had to put all my lovely smaller clothes in a box.

I did reach weights that were not good for my height, age, etc. I worked on a pitch for a casual dining restaurant and found myself above 160. And not feeling well. Winded, tired. I had one pair of black pants that I wore, well, often. I actually brought myself down to 145 after that pitch.

But then I started at McKinney and I was back into the 155+ range. And not looking or feeling well. And I knew that it would only get harder because I was only getting older.

Around Thanksgiving of 2006 I said "This is insane. I am 29 and I need to kick this. Now."

I considered using my bonus to go to fat camp for a week.

My goals was to lose 30 pounds by my 30th birthday, which was eight months away.

"30 x 30." It sounded snappy. It sounded good. Appealed to my sense of order.

I didn't go to fat camp.

This is what I did:

I stopped eating the McKinney snack. Every day, we get snack. Healthy snacks in the beginning of the week like apples on Monday but on by Friday, we have candy. And there's always food around. I just stopped eating it. That helped.

I don't cook. I don't know much about nutrition. I have a hard time making good choices when I'm travelling, tired, or feeling too lazy to care. So, I ordered food from a service for a month. I was getting a good amount of calories but the meals were balanced, varied and healthy. I know that I do need to solve that one on my own, but the service was a jumpstart that made food something I just didn't have to think about.

Cardio. I like to ride my bike. It's North Carolina - easy to ride year round. Pretty to ride year round. I rode. And rode. And rode.

I never abandoned the trusty elliptical at the gym though. That machine is still part of "the trick" as far as I'm concerned. But, I needed to mix it up.

I'm not going for the waif look. I want to be able to kick some ass. I wanted some tone. You know, those women who have arms and you can tell they're strong like Sheryl Crow. As much as I wanted to lose weight, I wanted to have strength. Luckily, the two go hand in hand.

Gawon. My trainer. Found a trainer and committed to meeting with him three times a week. For the most part, kept to three times a week (travel made it a bit complicated).

I stuck with this. My food choices having gotten better in part because I've had good resources for questions, and living with Ellen really really helped. She kept on me to be balanced and healthy. And she shared her good food with me.

Some pounds fell off. Others were slow as hell. My clothes felt better. Then they were too big. Then people started to notice. The compliments did help. Then I remember looking at my stomach and realizing I had the tiniest bit of definition. The lines.

I weighed myself way more than I should. I just can't help that. The loss was gradual and many weeks were just about maintaining.

So, on the day I turned 30 (yesterday) I stepped on the scale.

26 pounds.

A small part of me was like "Damnit! I want 30 x 30."

But you know what, 26 pounds is damn close.

And I didn't plan on obtaining the strength and muscle that I do have. I'll give myself 4 pounds of muscle.

I'm going on to my trainer's before and after section of the website. I feel strong, able-bodied, and I know that my future self is going to thank my 29 year old safe for getting back into a healthy lifestyle

So I did do it.
And I feel awesome.
And, ok, I look awesome!

Go me.

I'm 30,

I'm mature, actualized and confident.

Having a good birthday so far.

Lots of phone calls and e-mails.

I got a chocolate chip mint ice cream cake, mimosas, flowers, and a party in a box. Party in a box will be explained later. Look out for pics.

Even the roaming gnome wished me well.

I was born on August 9th at 11:34 am in the morning.
It's 9:30 pm on August 8th.
I have 14 more hours of being a twenty-something.

Hmmmm.
I'm going to have a jelly donut, wear a miniskirt, wreck my car and seduce a Duke Freshman. I'm gonna do a decade in a night.

My Birthday Dinner Invite, authored by Ellen.

your presence is requested this Thursday night, to usher out the stale, boring decade we call 20s (sorry, Talya) and induct the riveting, sexier one known as 30s.
That’s right, our dear Ms. Jamie Foehl will be becoming one of us (sorry, Talya)--one of the wiser, riper, infinitely more herself people as she says “Hello 30, fuck off 29.”
Please join this new tigress for dinner this Thursday evening at Piedmont.
I have a reservation for 7:15.
Please let Mama here know if we can expect you and all your ripened glory (you too, Talya).

- 38, and proud of it.

The Goaties are Gone!

The two little ones were sold. Mama Trudy is at the landlord's farm, um, making more goats. But in the meantime, we're without animales. Trudy will return once she's pregnant and we'll have baby goaties in time for the holidays.

darn.

I'm getting faster on my hybrid bike and this morning I decided to really push myself because I've hit a plateau and I want to break it.

I'm riding along 751 thinking I own the road and rule the bike universe and out of nowhere I am not kidding 50 road bikers whhhhhhrrrrrrrrrr past me.

Humbling.

It's kinda neat to watch them move as a unit, particularly when they turn a corner. It's kind of like a snake. Or salamander.

I am at Helio's on Glenwood Avenue in Raleigh.
There are cool, young, hip people here. So, they do exist.

My computer starting to hum. Instictively, I hit it (That doesn't sound good, does it? That it's an instinct to hit something that makes noise).

It stopped humming. That's reinforcing.

I am waiting for my pal Barb. Apparently, PowerPoint skills are highly valued at our agency. Seriously, PowerPoint skills are listed as requirements for very senior positions. Personally, I would hire a temp.

My PowerPoint skills are not good. Actually, that implies I have some skill with it at all. I don't. When I interviewed they asked me about my PP skills. I said "If PowerPoint is a dealbreaker for you, I'm not your hire." I got hired.

So, Barb and I are going to learn PowerPoint on a sunnny (but hot so I don't feel guilty being inside) afternoon at Helio's.

My heart really did stop.

10:45 at night.
Brushing my teeth.

And a salamander slighters from the drain.

I screamed.

I dropped my toothbrush, slammed the door and ran out of the bathroom.

And then tried to laugh about it but my heart-rate was still too high.

It's not that I'm scared of salamanders. I just don't expect them to crawl out of the bathroom sink.

I hate nature.

Here are the pics to accompany the previously blogged about Goats on the Loose Story

This is my bedroom window.


Three goats in one garbage can.

There was a big, national news-breaking car wreck in Raleigh this afternoon. It's chilling. It makes me nervous to drive.

I-40 is a mess. I don't take it to get home, but I'm sure there will be I-40 folks on my route home.

Now, it's monsooning outside. The Bulls game just got canceled (I can see the Durham Bulls Stadium from where I sit, cool, no?)

That is why it is 7:00 on a Friday night and I am still at work.

Speaking of work, every morning when I arrive, I am served a Creative Horoscope by copywriter Jenny Nicholson. I've added her Creative Horoscope to my blog-roll.

I finally pulled my pics and videos from my Treo so I have pictures to accompany stories from months ago. I'll post 'em.

Read the banner on the bus window. Funny.

"Cause my long hair just can't cover up my redneck"

Oops. Need some sunscreen. Look at that Redneck. I mean, red neck.

How do you know the girl in the fitting room has been there too long?

When she opens the door to the fitting room she gives you her name and says:
"Let me know if I can help you with anything."

But then,
When she opens the door to go the bathroom she gives you her name and says:
"Let me know if I can help you with anything."

Went to downtown Raleigh for a street fair "Raleigh Wide Open." I think it was the one year anniversary of the reopening of Fayetville Street. Something like that.

Enjoyed music from the Kickin' Grass, a bluegrass band. The lead singer is my friend Barb's sister, Linda. Barb is pictured below.

The stage was a block from the old McKinney office.

Am I tall, or are my friends short?

Somewhere there's someone with a birthday today

I know someone who has one too!

Happy Birthday Geburty.

I hope you have such a terrific birthday that tomorrow you feel all frapped out.

Big Hug from North Carolina.

There were frogs in the house last week.
Last night, it occurred to me that maybe the frogs were actually one kiss short of Prince Charming.
And I chased them out the house.
Sigh.

More pics from Naomi, Jamie, David and Parker's Devil's Lake Adventure

I don't think this is particularly convincing. If a train was really coming, I wouldn't be laughing. But I just can't help it. Laughing, that is.

Trains actually do run on this track. But only twice a day. I think.

Naomi and Jamie are the Seven Dwarfs (Ok, three for now).
From our trip to Devil's Lake, which is in Wisconsin.
Many more pics to be posted.

Grumpy Dwarfs

Bashful Dwarfs

Sleepy Dwarfs

One of my most favorite things about living in North Carolina is the Eno River Quarry. When I'm in the middle of The Quarry treading water I look at my surroundings and think "This is why."

It's been a fun place to share with friends, a fun place to cool off in our very warm weather, a great place to sit on a noodle (flotation device) or try to stand on and dive off of a flimsy float. There are cliffs from which I have yet to jump.

It was quite upsetting when I learned that someone drowned at The Quarry on Monday evening. I had been talking to pals at work about taking an end of the day dip and one of my friends mentioned that she was there on Monday night, leaving the Quarry, when the fire trucks pulled up. The story is also in the news now.

They're still trying to determine exactly what caused the person to "go under" but the quarry is very deep all around and I've been advised to always bring some sort of flotation device. I was a lifeguard (I trained people to be lifeguards) and I consider myself to be a fairly strong swimmer but I know that I'll be extra cautious from now on.

Here's a quote from the victim's mom:
"I want people to know that he had fun there, and he enjoyed it," Bailey said. "It was a happy thing for him."

It's a happy thing for me too and here are some pics:



Arriving at the Quarry in my party dress.


Looking at the cliff from where I might jump in my party dress.


Looking at the cliff from where I might jump in my bathing suit.


Yeah! Rain. An excuse not to jump.

A few more pics. Note all the noodles and rafts in the background.

My mom just left me a message from a Pink Floyd concert.
I am at home reading.
What's wrong with this picture?

Update:
My mom just left me 3 messages from the PFconcert.
I can hear her "Woo-hoo"-ing.
Pocket dialing?

People who live in cold climates have remote car starters to get their cars warm and defrosted by the time they get in them. I think I'm going to get a remote car starter so I can get my A/C fired up before I get in my car.

I woke up at 6:30 this morning to take a bike ride. It was nasty hot. I might have to push back my alarm clock to sunrise in order to ride without feeling like I'm going to fry on the pavement.

But, I must say that I still think the Minnesota cold is worse than the NC hot.

Moving Target

© 1990 Christine Lavin

Lately she feels at home in airports
Feels at home on trains
More comfortable with strangers
Than with those who know her name
She'd rather be herded onto a 767
Hurdled through the sky
Then to be safe and sound on ground
With him looking into her eyes.

One month until you know what.

Little Miss Sunshine a la Myrtle Beach

I am in South Carolina as part of the fan club /cheering section for "The Storm" dance company. As my post heading suggests, it's a lot like Little Miss Sunshine. Even I can't resist the urge to be glamorous and strike a pose (as if it was a difficult urge for me to resist anyway).


Doesn't the sepia tone make it look like this picture was taken years ago and now I might be someone's Grandma or something? The fact of the matter is that I was playing with the settings and inadvertantly saved the photo and cannot restore it to the original. The sepia is the least weird of my remaining options.

Jetta (that's as close as I'll get to naming my car) did really good on her (OK, I also assigned a gender to my car) first big trip out of the Triangle. The car is leased with limited mileage so I'm very careful about keeping it on track but I decided what's the car for if not to drive and I headed down to Myrtle Beach, SC for Fourth of July.

Here are two interesting pics from the road.

Magnolia a la Cary Part Two

Why is there always a Part Two to these stories? I wake up the next morning and there's a frog in the laundry room. Is is the same frog? For some reason I don't think so. My pal Wendy is concerned that the two frogs will fall in love and make baby frogs. I successfully chase this one out of the house and on to the front porch. I am going out of town for a few days and am geniunely concerned that I will return to a Froggyfest at the Farm.

Ellen is in Italy, btw. Someone, these, er, adventures aren't as fun without her.

Magnolia a la Cary Part One

I'm about to go to sleep and head into the living room to turn out the lights. At my feet, I see a frog just sitting there. Now, I went to Summer Camp, and I'm OK with all the outdoor creatures but when I'm not in that mode, a frog in my living room is going to catch me off guard. Once I'm done freaking out I try to chase the frog out the front door. I get as far as the kitchen and he/she? hops underneath the oven. I get a broom to try to coax him/her out. I go to sleep mildly disturbed.