Here's the new guy. He spends most of his time under the bed. It's hard to take pictures under the bed.  

Update

I have:

-Straight hair. Who knew? All those years in humid climates, I thought it was wavy. Guess not. In the desert it is stick straight.
-A new little kitten. I will post pictures later. He's sweet as anything, but shy. And the older cat keeps trying to eat him.
-A job. I know: yay! I should be happy. But, no, I'm not. I don't think this job is for me. It's in a casino, for one thing and I am too disdainful of casinos and the people who frequent them.
-Black lung. See above. The second hand smoke situation is so bad at work, I can hardly breathe by the time I go to bed at night.

So there's the news. If I quit today, I'll tell the story later. Though, technically, is it quitting since I'm still in training?

The Red Sox

I am certain that the Yankees have made a deal with the devil.

Ok, ok, we haven't been playing so great and our pitching is weak. I can accept that we lost. And, yet, I cannot accept that the Yankees won. Again. I hate them. They represent everything that is wrong in the world. I hate them. I hate them. I hate them.

And I can't believe I'm admitting this: I wouldn't be that upset if Cleveland gets the Wild Card spot. Well, I would be disappointed, yes. But I would also be relieved. Because I can't take the drama, year after year. Maybe we should just sit out the post season this year. Then everybody will be well-rested for 2006. Most New Englanders I know have yet to recover from last October.

Seen on the Road in Vegas

All kinds of vehicles decorated with flames; cars, trucks, vans, Hummers. If you can name it, someone has painted flames on it. I now have a burning need to paint flames on my car. The longer I drive here, the more cars I see with flames. The more cars I see with flames, the more I feel I'm missing out on a wild and exhilarating experience.

Also, cars without license plates. I noticed that the first time I visited. Nowhere else that I've ever been does one see cars on the road with no plates at all, not even temporary cardboard ones taped in the back window. Here, I spot one about once a week.

And Jaguars. Lots of them. Old, beat up, worse for the wear Jags.

As soon as I see a 1980 Jaguar with flames and no license plates, I'm heading for home.

Does she look anxious to you? I think she just looks weird. 

More About The Cat

The vet says the cat is exhibiting signs of stress. The cat is stressed? She's a cat. What's so stressful about that? She has food, water, shelter and companionship.

She doesn't have to look for a job. She doesn't have to face constant rejection. She doesn't have to worry about paying bills.



The cat is stressed.

Head Case

I've been feeling pretty crappy for the last 2 weeks or so. When the coughing and sluggishness wouldn't go away, I decided it was just a by-product of my unemployment depression. I couldn't possibly be sick all that time. It had to be in my head. I pretty much ignored it.

Yesterday, I had planned to go to the gym with J. But at 5 o'clock in the afternoon, I was lying in my pjs on the couch, trying to muster up the strength. Finally I decided I couldn't tolerate it. I skipped the gym and went to Urgent Care instead.

I have bronchitis. And the bronchitis is, in turn, aggravating my asthma. I'm out $300 for the office visit, antibiotics and steroids. The confirmaton that I was genuinely sick gave me permission to feel all the aches and pains. I was completely miserable last night and spent most of today on the couch.

My psychosomatic illness was all in my head.

Wish Me Luck

I have an interview tomorrow with an employment agency. I don't care what kind of job I get. Any job would be good right now.

I've started studying for the GREs. Since nothing is panning out in the job market, I thought I should focus on another goal. It should keep me occupied for a while. And give me some new whining material for the blog.

I think I hate my trainer

He's a hardass. And not in the way one would expect a trainer to be a hardass. He won't let me make any decisions. I can't add reps or weight without him telling me so first. I can't work out more often than he tells me I can. Luckily, I talked him into an extra day of cardio.

And, he won't let me use the cardio equipment I prefer. I like to read while I work out and the stationary bike is the only easy piece of equipment for reading.
No can do. No bike. No rowing machine.
I get to choose between the treadmill and the elliptical trainer. BORING! BORING! BORING! Today I spent 30 minutes on the elliptical. I thought I was going to die. I was wearing 2 sports bras and still I bounced. My breasts were killing me by the end.
(Shameless. I am a shameless blogger.)

The really bad part? According to the gym scale I gained a pound.