Thursday, November 29, 2007

Suggestions Please!

I know it's been a while since I posted...and let's face it, I have some serious back posting to do. But in the mean time, I've decided that I need some new songs for my running mix. I'm taking suggestions! And it's always nice during the long runs remember who suggested the song; it's like you're running with me without actually having to run!

Help a runner out! Bethie needs a new running mix!

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Shirt Nazis!

OK, so there are somethings that I'm not:

I am not fast.
I am not short.
I am not petite.
I am not small chested.
I am not a SMALL PERSON!!!

No, I'm not having a fat day, but let's call a spade a spade; I'm in no way going to be confused for someone who is wee. I was picking up a race packet for an 8K Turkey Trot on Thursday and for some reason, my shirt size was listed as a small. I politely asked to change for a medium and the shirt nazis told me "That's just not allowed."

Are you kidding me? LOOK AT ME!! I'M NOT A TINY PERSON!! For pete's sake, my boobs don't allow me to be a small. I thought they were kidding. Apparently you're not allowed to trade at all. Seriously? I've been asked to trade up and down before for other events. If there was a shortage of mediums, I could understand, really, no problem. But give me a break! I've registered for four events this month, and suddenly I randomly wrote small on my race registration? Ri-i-i-i-ght. The shirt nazi then told me, "Just try your shirt on when you get home, you never know, maybe you'll be surprised."

Who knows, maybe this shirt truly is magical...not only will it wick moisture away and keep me dry, but it will suddenly make me a small. Maybe I should start registering for smalls (and then I'll end up with a mediums!). Or the most probable, maybe I'll just get over it, quit my bitching and get used to wearing a size small. Grrr!

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Tales...A Guest Post

I’m very excited to present my very first guest post on my blog. I’m making it clear that this is a GUEST POST because I am very NOT PREGNAT (just making sure that’s clear). This is just too hilarious not to post! This happened to Meghan at work. She’s an OT and works with children in a suburban school district. Here’s a dialog that she had with one of her children.


I really need to share this conversation I had with a 7 year-old boy at work today. By far the strangest comment I've gotten from a kid. -Meghan

Boy: Are you getting a baby in there?

Meghan: Yep. I'm getting a baby.

Boy: Has your big egg cracked yet?(Boy pokes Meghan warily in the stomach)

Meghan: Huh?

Boy: You know, the big egg...where the baby is. I don't think yours is cracked yet. You should be careful though because I heard of a girl who had to go to the bathroom and then her big egg cracked and all her babies fell out into the toilet. They just fell right in the water. Gross.

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

Death is not an Option

Recently I posted about things that irritate me at the gym. Today, two of my favorites had an interesting interaction. Naked Hair Drier (who, today, was wearing underwear, so let's go with Semi-Naked Hair Drier) was flipping her hair about drying her hair and Loud Cell Phone talker (also in her underwear) was screaming at the top of her lungs in Polish at someone on the other line. She proceeds to start yelling at Semi-Naked Hair Drier (still in Polish) for only what I can assume was for her to stop drying her hair so that she could continue to converse.

This scene amused me to no end and probably turned me in to the weird girl who laughs randomly, but I digress. It reminded me of a game I used to play in college. My Sophomore year, I took Brain and Behavior with Barb. While this class was usually pretty interesting, there were just some lectures that dragged (generally the ones not about drugs or alcohol). As a result, Barb and I would play "Death is not an Option". It was based on the principle (learned in that very class) that when given a choice, you always do have a preference. Even if you think you can't decide, your brain really can make a decision (think Phoebe in friends playing the choice game with Joey). Anywho, Barb and I would spend our classes passing a paper back and forth pitting two random frat boys on campus against each other and forcing a choice between the two as to with whom we'd rather shack--and as the name implies--choosing death was not an option. (Don't judge, you know you're gonna play it!!) More often than not, the choices were not pretty in any way, shape or form. (Side bar--Barb, remember when we put the ambiguously gay duo as the two options?)

This game made me think, given the two gym annoyances (the Semi-Naked Hair Drier and the Talk Loudly on Her Cell Phone in her Underwear girls) who was the worse option? For me the Talk Loudly on Her Cell Phone girl seemed to be the more obnoxious of the two. Why naked hair drying in a semi-public place is more acceptable in my mind, I'll never know...but given the choice, I'll deal with her any day!

Thursday, November 1, 2007

I need some digits!!

Ok, so my phone met an unfortunate demise between my steel toed boots, gravity, and a brick wall. (See, Mom--I told you I was going to kick things.) It's now in at least 5 pieces that I could find. Don't ask, just suffice it to say I had a shitty day.

The point is not to illuminate my klutziness, rather to ask you for all your phone numbers. I've lost every last one of my contacts. Either call me, or send me your number.

I'm now going to nurse my wounds from this horrible, awful, no good, very bad day with beer, trivia and a chicken tender wrap--Hey! It's what makes me happy!