1. Castro was at the gym again today. He looked taller, greyer and less dead. Perhpas he is getting better?
2. I have no patience for aerobics instructors who use their classes as an exercise in humiliation. I also have no patience for instructors whose classes are boring, repetitive and involve kicks that could easily blow out one's knees. I've discovered, however, that I have no patience for having no patience, so when the instructor gets too annoying, I leave. (Tonight's lasted about 45 minutes)
3. I might be becoming a gym junkie. I don't want this to happen, because I think those people are weird, but it might just be happening anyway. That, or I'm eating too much sugar and just feel like the only way to get back to normal is to run for 30 minutes.
sidebar: maybe postal workers should run more.
4. If you're someone who doesn't poo very often, you probably shouldn't poo at the gym.
5. A while ago I was in a kickboxing class with a guy who looked like ugly cake's boyflan (ahem, I mean, a guy I used to go out with) and I spent half the class trying to impress him with how strong I had become since we broke up and the other half of the class trying to punch him in the head. He left thoroughly confused, and hasn't been back to class since. (it's ok, though, because he was kind of smelly.)
6. There's a woman I've taken class with at the gym for probably three years now and she looks like my ex-boyfriend's ex-wife. Which, by now, is no big deal. But when I met her, I was in the middle of some Severe Ugly with the ex, and I couldn't really stand to look at the woman at the gym. One day I finally told her that she resembled my boyfriend's ex and she smiled and gave a knowing sigh. (We've been friendly ever since.)
7. Eating less is always key to losing weight, but sometimes it's just impossible. (Like when people walk into your office and say "hey, Kate, I made these cookies just for you. Do you want one?" How exactly are you supposed to say no??) I think that's why god invented the guy who invented the treadmill. That, or he just thinks it's funny to have grown people run around like hamsters...
8. I have now officially overthought the gym.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
why should my coworkers have all the fun?
I just signed up to write a column in our office newsletter. It's called:
My first article is due next week, but I'll be out relaxing (and hopefully catching up on some writing, but don't hold your breath) so I wrote it today. It's full of useful tidbits and shortcuts. Just chock-a-block with them. In fact, don't read this without appropriate precautions. You could hurt yourself.
You know your keyboard shortcuts in Word, but do you know what's available to you in Outlook?
In addition to the familiar shortcut keys from Word (e.g., Ctrl+P for Print, Ctrl+N for New Document or Ctrl+Z for Undo), there are a couple of Outlook-specific keyboard shortcuts that can save you some valuable time when sending emails.
If you want to: Use this keyboard shortcut Good for:
Check the names
on the To, Cc, and
Bcc lines against the
Address Book Alt+K or Ctrl+K Getting the right Lori,
Alan, Josh, Lynn or Jay
Jump to the subject field Alt+J Jotting down your
headline when
inspiration strikes
Switch to your Inbox
(from Calendar, Contacts,
Sent Items, wherever) Ctrl+Shift+I Getting back to your
Inbox from wherever
you may have roamed
Delete a whole word Ctrl+Backspace Eliminating typooos
Send the current email Alt+S or Ctrl+Enter Getting that email on its way!
Create a new email
message (from inside and
outside of your Inbox) Ctrl+Shift+M Drafting an email while
looking at your calendar
or contacts
Reply to a message
without taking your
hands off the keyboard Ctrl+R Shortening the time you
spend responding to emails
My first article is due next week, but I'll be out relaxing (and hopefully catching up on some writing, but don't hold your breath) so I wrote it today. It's full of useful tidbits and shortcuts. Just chock-a-block with them. In fact, don't read this without appropriate precautions. You could hurt yourself.You know your keyboard shortcuts in Word, but do you know what's available to you in Outlook?
In addition to the familiar shortcut keys from Word (e.g., Ctrl+P for Print, Ctrl+N for New Document or Ctrl+Z for Undo), there are a couple of Outlook-specific keyboard shortcuts that can save you some valuable time when sending emails.
If you want to: Use this keyboard shortcut Good for:
Check the names
on the To, Cc, and
Bcc lines against the
Address Book Alt+K or Ctrl+K Getting the right Lori,
Alan, Josh, Lynn or Jay
Jump to the subject field Alt+J Jotting down your
headline when
inspiration strikes
Switch to your Inbox
(from Calendar, Contacts,
Sent Items, wherever) Ctrl+Shift+I Getting back to your
Inbox from wherever
you may have roamed
Delete a whole word Ctrl+Backspace Eliminating typooos
Send the current email Alt+S or Ctrl+Enter Getting that email on its way!
Create a new email
message (from inside and
outside of your Inbox) Ctrl+Shift+M Drafting an email while
looking at your calendar
or contacts
Reply to a message
without taking your
hands off the keyboard Ctrl+R Shortening the time you
spend responding to emails
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
i have so much to say that i’m not saying anything
I have sixteen novels inside me that I want to write here, but I'm too busy. So instead, I'm re-posting an email my aunt sent to me today. It's charming. Basically someone asked first graders to complete the second half of a well-known proverb or maxim, and this is what they came up with:
1. Don't change horses until they stop running.
2. Strike while the bug is close.
3. It's always darkest before Daylight Saving Time.
4. Never underestimate the power of termites.
5. You can lead a horse to water but How?
6. Don't bite the hand that looks dirty.
7. No news is impossible
8. A miss is as good as a Mr.
9. You can't teach an old dog new Math
10. If you lie down with dogs, you'll stink in the morning.
11. Love all, trust Me.
12. The pen is mightier than the pigs.
13. An idle mind is the best way to relax .
14. Where there's smoke there's pollution.
15. Happy the bride who gets all the presents.
16. A penny saved is not much.
17. Two's company, three's the Musketeers.
18. Don't put off till tomorrow what you put on to go to bed.
19. Laugh and the whole world laughs with you, cry and You have to blow your nose.
20. There are none so blind as Stevie Wonder.
21. Children should be seen and not spanked or grounded.
22. If at first you don't succeed get new batteries.
23. You get out of something only what you See in the picture on the box
24. When the blind lead the blind get out of the way.
25. A bird in the hand is going to poop on you.
26. Better late than Pregnant
Friday, December 14, 2007
all work and no play makes kate a dull trainer
I was recently given a series of pictures that are used by a drilling company in their sales presentations, along with the challenge of adequately captioning them. (Fernando was also given the task, and his are excellent, too. I will try to scan them in and upload them, but I am really REALLY pushing the limits here of how much time I can waste at work.) The photos are humdingers. Truly stock footage, with a hint of photoshop thrown in there. In my life, I may have never seen odder, or more boring photos.
Captioning them was slightly harder than I imagined it would be. But I think in the end, I came out ok. Judge for yourselves (but watch out, lest ye be judged).
[Warning: the fonts get a little wonky. Sorry.]
OR
(I couldn't decide)
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
how not to look a gift horse in the mouth
I was walking to the color copier at work today, and one of the attorneys I don't work for (and have never worked for) stopped me in the hall. Being a trainer, I thought for sure he'd ask me something about the holiday cards or maybe a malfunctioning macro in Word, but no.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure," I replied.
"Have you lost weight?"
(Cue that familiar record-scratching sound.)
"Um...yeah," I smiled outloud, "I have! Thanks!"
He said, "You look great. You must have lost a LOT of weight! You look so streamlined now!"
"Um..." I was slightly more perplexed by this. How should I respond? Ask him how fat he thought I used to be? Lie, and say that yes, I had lost a LOT of weight (when in fact it's been a few pounds give or take)? Give him the breakdown of just how I had lost the weight? I spun myself through a variety of options and settled on one that seemed to make the most sense at the time.
"Thank you?"
He didn't even notice my hesitation, however, being too wrapped up praising this new, skinny, hot chick to notice he had been somewhat less-than-generous in the Backhanded Compliment Giving Department.
I laughed in my own head and decided that it was probably pretty hard for him to dole out the compliments, what with the handicap of being one of the lawyers who work here. (We're a firm with more than our fair share of Lawyers Who Don't Play Well With Others.)
The whole brief incident reminded me of the time one of the 5'5" attorneys here spent the whole Holiday Party my first year flirting with me, and then, the next day, when he found out I was a secretary and not a lawyer, pretended he didn't even know my name.
This time, however, instead of bristling, I tucked the compliment in my pocket (where there is a LOT of space these days, seeing as how I'm so skinny) and eagerly turned my face away from the big white teeth on the loveliest of lovely gift horses and instead, grabbed it by the mane and swung myself up onto it.
After all, riding a gift horse beats the snot out of checking out its breath!
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure," I replied.
"Have you lost weight?"
(Cue that familiar record-scratching sound.)
"Um...yeah," I smiled outloud, "I have! Thanks!"
He said, "You look great. You must have lost a LOT of weight! You look so streamlined now!"
"Um..." I was slightly more perplexed by this. How should I respond? Ask him how fat he thought I used to be? Lie, and say that yes, I had lost a LOT of weight (when in fact it's been a few pounds give or take)? Give him the breakdown of just how I had lost the weight? I spun myself through a variety of options and settled on one that seemed to make the most sense at the time.
"Thank you?"
He didn't even notice my hesitation, however, being too wrapped up praising this new, skinny, hot chick to notice he had been somewhat less-than-generous in the Backhanded Compliment Giving Department.
I laughed in my own head and decided that it was probably pretty hard for him to dole out the compliments, what with the handicap of being one of the lawyers who work here. (We're a firm with more than our fair share of Lawyers Who Don't Play Well With Others.)
The whole brief incident reminded me of the time one of the 5'5" attorneys here spent the whole Holiday Party my first year flirting with me, and then, the next day, when he found out I was a secretary and not a lawyer, pretended he didn't even know my name.
This time, however, instead of bristling, I tucked the compliment in my pocket (where there is a LOT of space these days, seeing as how I'm so skinny) and eagerly turned my face away from the big white teeth on the loveliest of lovely gift horses and instead, grabbed it by the mane and swung myself up onto it.
After all, riding a gift horse beats the snot out of checking out its breath!
Sunday, December 9, 2007
ho ho oh my tummy!
A Recipe:
3/4 cup butter
1/4 cup milk
2t vanilla
9 cups powdered sugar
4 awesome friends
16,349,271 cookies
Combine first four ingredients, and add to food coloring in five different bowls. Slowly add friends (one of whom got a little lost on the way and stumbled across a lovely neighborhood man masturbating in the park, and another of whom asked for directions near the subway and was answered by a woman whose mouth was entirely filled with gold -- and I have the audacity to say I live in Park Slope??). Start frosting the 16,349,271 cookies.
I had my Second Annual Cookie Decorating Party today, and the results were just as spectacular as last year's. If you recall, there was a great deal of sugar ingested, and some moaning in agony several hours later. I think much of that was curttailed this year by the introduction of several savory foods, and some bloody marys. But maybe I am only speaking for myself...
(Some participants were better prepared than others, simply for having gone through the agony of the tummyache last year. This unnamed participant was not one of them.)
One of the best parts about this year's party was that it combined five of my favorite women, none of whom had met each other. So it was an opportunity for my worlds to really collide -- with frosting!
Andrea (above) was a meticulous decorator, creating this year's Best In Show. However, her perfectionism kept her low on the productivity scale. Keri was a little slow to get the creativity flowing (her first cookie, Christmas Rock, was one of the winners in the Ugliest category), but once the roll started, there was no stopping her. Lisa got onto a piping kick -- so much so that we were considering an entirely new category called Best OCD, in which the only contenders belonged to Lisa and Andrea. Ruthann showed some serious growth since last year, not making a single black cookie this year. And me? Well, I think I stuck like to glue to my traditional theme -- after all, I do eventually want to eat or give away these cookies. (Too many ugly ones and your options are limited.)
But enough build up! The envelope, please!
In the Best Traditional category we have:
Santa (by Kate), Menorah (by Lisa), Ice Skate (by Ruthann) and Christmas Tree (by Kate).
In the Best Non-Traditional category we have:
Boot (by Ruthann), Hugging Stars (or Fucking Stars, depending on who you ask) (by Andrea), Gray Christmas Tree (by Keri)
I would like, ex post facto, to add another contender to the Best Non-Traditionals, the Flipping-You-The-All-American-Christmas-Bird-Turned-Into-A-Dreidel (by Lisa)
(Perhaps you can see how this cookie was made from a hand and then turned itself around, through love, dedication and hard work, into a festively American dreidel. Perhaps not.)
A new category this year -- Best Gingerfolk:
Generic Vet (by Andrea), Rock Star in a Monokini (by Ruthann), Chest Hair Man (by Andrea) and Kate's Ice Skating Date (by Kate) (duh).
Everyone's Favorites, of course -- Ugliest!
There was an almost clean sweep in this category. Christmas Pile (by Ruthann), The Statue of Liberty (by Keri), Christmas Rock (by Keri) and Swamp Thing (by Keri).
And of course, everyone's favorite, Best In Show:
This is Suburban Mom (with fanny pack, festive sweater and easy-to-manage hairdo) (by Andrea).
I love this party for several reasons -- 1) it gets me to clean my house, 2) it lets me spend time with my fabulous friends doing something creative, 3) I get cookies, 4) it forces my friends to drag their butts to my house (from as far away as Columbia and the Bronx!), 5) I get cookies, 6) my friends get to hang out with each other, and 7) I get cookies.
I feel really lucky to have the friends I do. And I will throw this party every year if I have to put on 75 pounds each December to do it. My friends are worth it!
3/4 cup butter
1/4 cup milk
2t vanilla
9 cups powdered sugar
4 awesome friends
16,349,271 cookies
Combine first four ingredients, and add to food coloring in five different bowls. Slowly add friends (one of whom got a little lost on the way and stumbled across a lovely neighborhood man masturbating in the park, and another of whom asked for directions near the subway and was answered by a woman whose mouth was entirely filled with gold -- and I have the audacity to say I live in Park Slope??). Start frosting the 16,349,271 cookies.
I had my Second Annual Cookie Decorating Party today, and the results were just as spectacular as last year's. If you recall, there was a great deal of sugar ingested, and some moaning in agony several hours later. I think much of that was curttailed this year by the introduction of several savory foods, and some bloody marys. But maybe I am only speaking for myself...
(Some participants were better prepared than others, simply for having gone through the agony of the tummyache last year. This unnamed participant was not one of them.)
One of the best parts about this year's party was that it combined five of my favorite women, none of whom had met each other. So it was an opportunity for my worlds to really collide -- with frosting!
Andrea (above) was a meticulous decorator, creating this year's Best In Show. However, her perfectionism kept her low on the productivity scale. Keri was a little slow to get the creativity flowing (her first cookie, Christmas Rock, was one of the winners in the Ugliest category), but once the roll started, there was no stopping her. Lisa got onto a piping kick -- so much so that we were considering an entirely new category called Best OCD, in which the only contenders belonged to Lisa and Andrea. Ruthann showed some serious growth since last year, not making a single black cookie this year. And me? Well, I think I stuck like to glue to my traditional theme -- after all, I do eventually want to eat or give away these cookies. (Too many ugly ones and your options are limited.)
But enough build up! The envelope, please!
In the Best Traditional category we have:
Santa (by Kate), Menorah (by Lisa), Ice Skate (by Ruthann) and Christmas Tree (by Kate).
In the Best Non-Traditional category we have:
Boot (by Ruthann), Hugging Stars (or Fucking Stars, depending on who you ask) (by Andrea), Gray Christmas Tree (by Keri)
I would like, ex post facto, to add another contender to the Best Non-Traditionals, the Flipping-You-The-All-American-Christmas-Bird-Turned-Into-A-Dreidel (by Lisa)
(Perhaps you can see how this cookie was made from a hand and then turned itself around, through love, dedication and hard work, into a festively American dreidel. Perhaps not.)
A new category this year -- Best Gingerfolk:
Generic Vet (by Andrea), Rock Star in a Monokini (by Ruthann), Chest Hair Man (by Andrea) and Kate's Ice Skating Date (by Kate) (duh).
Everyone's Favorites, of course -- Ugliest!
There was an almost clean sweep in this category. Christmas Pile (by Ruthann), The Statue of Liberty (by Keri), Christmas Rock (by Keri) and Swamp Thing (by Keri).
And of course, everyone's favorite, Best In Show:
This is Suburban Mom (with fanny pack, festive sweater and easy-to-manage hairdo) (by Andrea).
I love this party for several reasons -- 1) it gets me to clean my house, 2) it lets me spend time with my fabulous friends doing something creative, 3) I get cookies, 4) it forces my friends to drag their butts to my house (from as far away as Columbia and the Bronx!), 5) I get cookies, 6) my friends get to hang out with each other, and 7) I get cookies.
I feel really lucky to have the friends I do. And I will throw this party every year if I have to put on 75 pounds each December to do it. My friends are worth it!
Thursday, December 6, 2007
the single girl and her christmas tree: a parable
Once upon a time there was a girl in the city and she was single. She was content to be single because, well, that's how it was, and there was really no point fighting it.
One fine, December afternoon, the single girl called her friend and neighbor, Jimmy, to see if he wanted to come pick out a Christmas tree with her. He had helped her last year, offering his opinion on her shrub selection, taking the trunk end as they wrangled the tree up the stairs and generally bringing holiday cheer to the event of Tree Selection.
This year, however, Jimmy was out of town, and the single girl really needed to get a tree TODAY. (It was going to snow tomorrow, and she had to have it in time for her party next weekend.)
So the single girl bundled up in her coat, grabbed her granny cart, and trucked off to the local merchants to buy a tree.
Sadly, the folks at the Polish grocery store were extorting their customers, charging $35 for a tree that barely reached the single girl's chin. Lenny's Pizzeria was also selling trees, but they were all taller than the single girl, and she didn't want to bite off more than she could chew. Or carry.
So the single girl headed out to the dreaded no-man's-land called Home Depot. Her married friends refused to go there anymore, calling it the Auschwitz of Trees. ("Birchenwald!" the single girl thought to herself as she strolled, cracking an inappropriate smile. "Firschwitz!") But they would have a tree for her, she knew, and they wouldn't charge her an arm and a leg. "I'm brave," she said to herself, "I'll be too busy shopping to think bad thoughts."
She was right.
The single girl had no idea what kind of tree to get, so she started shopping by height and price. Anything around or under $30 would be acceptable. Of course, this being Home Depot, nothing was labeled, nobody seemed to work there and the single girl very quickly became overwhelmed and lonely.
Focusing on the task at hand (and not at the tears pooling in the corner of her eyes -- loneliness? or just the biting wind??), she picked a tree, held it at arm's length (which is a very inconvenient length from which to survey a whole tree) and decided hell, it was good enough, and she plunked it perpendicularly across her granny cart, taking out everyone in a five foot radius.
When she got to the teller, to her delight the single girl discovered her tree was a mere $24.95, and that the woman with the chainsaw would chop off the bottom inch for her. Her shorter tree was then placed into friendly netting and the single girl popped it into her granny cart to stroll off into the sunset.
Near the middle of the parking lot, however, the single girl noticed her tree was leaning over like a drunk on a barstool, causing the granny cart to list and veer to the left. She rearranged her Adorable Single Girl's Purse and really put her back into it. This is what single girls have to do, afterall.
By the time the single girl and her drunken tree arrived at home, the single girl was running through a list of all the things she liked about being single. "I don't have to smell anyone else's bad breath. I only have to clean up my own mess. I don't have to do anyone else's laundry. I can come and go as I please, without reporting to anyone on my whereabouts. Nobody wakes me up in the middle of the night." She mumbled these under her breath as she considered calling her single aunt to commiserate. (She decided against this, fearing her aunt would not only not adopt her positive skew but complain so badly it would only depress her further.)
By the time the single girl was lugging both the granny cart and the tree up the stairs, she felt defeated. "Stupid Christmas. I hate being single!" She yanked the tree out of the cart, jabbed it onto the spikes in the holder and trundled the whole thing into the living room, muttering something about wanting to be Jewish.
The next morning, however, the single girl awoke to the smell of pine in her house, snow swirling around in the streets outside her window and an overall Christmassy spirit.
She ventured into the living room. "Good morning, tree!" she said, delightedly. She took a deep, piney-fresh breath and announced to the whole apartment, "I did this all by myself. See this tree? This big, fat, attractive, inexpensive, lovely and festive tree? I got it. I bought it, I carried it, I jabbed it on its spike, and I made it not be tilty. I am the coolest single girl in the whole wide world."
And she was right.
The end.
One fine, December afternoon, the single girl called her friend and neighbor, Jimmy, to see if he wanted to come pick out a Christmas tree with her. He had helped her last year, offering his opinion on her shrub selection, taking the trunk end as they wrangled the tree up the stairs and generally bringing holiday cheer to the event of Tree Selection.
This year, however, Jimmy was out of town, and the single girl really needed to get a tree TODAY. (It was going to snow tomorrow, and she had to have it in time for her party next weekend.)
So the single girl bundled up in her coat, grabbed her granny cart, and trucked off to the local merchants to buy a tree.
Sadly, the folks at the Polish grocery store were extorting their customers, charging $35 for a tree that barely reached the single girl's chin. Lenny's Pizzeria was also selling trees, but they were all taller than the single girl, and she didn't want to bite off more than she could chew. Or carry.
So the single girl headed out to the dreaded no-man's-land called Home Depot. Her married friends refused to go there anymore, calling it the Auschwitz of Trees. ("Birchenwald!" the single girl thought to herself as she strolled, cracking an inappropriate smile. "Firschwitz!") But they would have a tree for her, she knew, and they wouldn't charge her an arm and a leg. "I'm brave," she said to herself, "I'll be too busy shopping to think bad thoughts."
She was right.
The single girl had no idea what kind of tree to get, so she started shopping by height and price. Anything around or under $30 would be acceptable. Of course, this being Home Depot, nothing was labeled, nobody seemed to work there and the single girl very quickly became overwhelmed and lonely.
Focusing on the task at hand (and not at the tears pooling in the corner of her eyes -- loneliness? or just the biting wind??), she picked a tree, held it at arm's length (which is a very inconvenient length from which to survey a whole tree) and decided hell, it was good enough, and she plunked it perpendicularly across her granny cart, taking out everyone in a five foot radius.
When she got to the teller, to her delight the single girl discovered her tree was a mere $24.95, and that the woman with the chainsaw would chop off the bottom inch for her. Her shorter tree was then placed into friendly netting and the single girl popped it into her granny cart to stroll off into the sunset.
Near the middle of the parking lot, however, the single girl noticed her tree was leaning over like a drunk on a barstool, causing the granny cart to list and veer to the left. She rearranged her Adorable Single Girl's Purse and really put her back into it. This is what single girls have to do, afterall.
By the time the single girl and her drunken tree arrived at home, the single girl was running through a list of all the things she liked about being single. "I don't have to smell anyone else's bad breath. I only have to clean up my own mess. I don't have to do anyone else's laundry. I can come and go as I please, without reporting to anyone on my whereabouts. Nobody wakes me up in the middle of the night." She mumbled these under her breath as she considered calling her single aunt to commiserate. (She decided against this, fearing her aunt would not only not adopt her positive skew but complain so badly it would only depress her further.)
By the time the single girl was lugging both the granny cart and the tree up the stairs, she felt defeated. "Stupid Christmas. I hate being single!" She yanked the tree out of the cart, jabbed it onto the spikes in the holder and trundled the whole thing into the living room, muttering something about wanting to be Jewish.
The next morning, however, the single girl awoke to the smell of pine in her house, snow swirling around in the streets outside her window and an overall Christmassy spirit.
She ventured into the living room. "Good morning, tree!" she said, delightedly. She took a deep, piney-fresh breath and announced to the whole apartment, "I did this all by myself. See this tree? This big, fat, attractive, inexpensive, lovely and festive tree? I got it. I bought it, I carried it, I jabbed it on its spike, and I made it not be tilty. I am the coolest single girl in the whole wide world."
And she was right.
The end.
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