Green Solo cup. I fill you up.

Happy Superbowl Sunday, ya’ll.

Ok, ok. There was only lemonade in the cup. And we were celebrating a friend’s birthday with the game on in the far background.

I’ve been inspired by red solo cups for years. This cheery green one just begged to be photographed.

Photo Copyright 2012, Karen Fayeth. Taken with my iPhone4s using the Hipstamatic app.

Suggestible Girl is Suggestible, and her German is Poor.

I am one of those uber suggestible people who will hear a word or a phrase used a few times then will immediately adopt it into my language. Especially if it’s a word or phrase I particularly like.

A a few weeks back, I heard the good man use a particular phrase, and it kind of rolled off of me. But then a few days later I heard it again on a rerun episode of Boston Legal.

Well, that was that. The phrase is now mine.

However….I’ve used it twice and only realized today I’ve been saying it wrong. I am now one of those pseudo intellectuals who try to talk big and end up sounding like a dope.

The correct phrase is: sturm und drang. Literally translated from German, it means “storm and stress.”

This phrase applies in oh-so-many ways to my current work environment. I have a new employee, I have three major global projects on the front burners, and just for fun, it looks like my team will be moving under the leadership of a different department all together. It’s all good change, but change nonetheless, and it is keeping us hopping.

So I’m at least using the phrase in the right context, but saying it wrong. All along I’ve been saying storm and drung.

No wonder I get so many blank stares. That and the fact I was suddenly speaking (incorrect) German.

Maybe I should just drop an Eastern New Mexico twang on top of it all and say storm and drain.

“Ya’ll, this storm and drain over the past weeks is just about wearing me flat. We need to set us up a little ol’ project plan before things get crazier than a March hare ’round here. Whaddaya say?”

I like it. I haven’t gotten real New Mexico on these folks in a while.

I have a meeting in forty five minutes.

It’s so on.

Today’s Theme Thursday word is: Storm

Photo from the City of Davis Public Works site.

I Think I Can

My lunchtime walking friend, known to regular readers as Worm Girl, has gone and done it. She has coerced convinced me that on cold rainy days (such as today) we shouldn’t just avoid our lunchtime walk all together. We should, instead, go work out in our company’s fitness center.

My god how I hate gyms.

Hate them hate them hate them.

I conceded the points that we need to mix up our workouts, and we need to continue to work out even if weather doesn’t permit. So today, I followed her into the fitness center where we took up residence on two separate treadmills.

I lumped myself up on the walking deck of a shiny new machine and poked and prodded at the buttons and geegaws.

To the left of me, a tall, young, lithe brunette woman running all out on the treadmill. To my right, a shorter, tiny blond woman with loads of attitude. Also running.

I didn’t come here to run. Hell, at this point I wasn’t even walking because I couldn’t get the machine to start. After punching at the up arrow key, the belt started up but it was quite slow, so I didn’t get on it. I kept jabbing at buttons and “hmmm’ing” and “ummm’ing”.

Blondie snapped at me “You should just get on it!”

I thought how easy it would be to insert my foot into the middle of her tiny stride and send her flying. “Whoops! Did I do that? Sooooo sorry.”

See, when I walk on the walking trail, there’s no turning it on. No fiddling with buttons or a recalcitrant machine. I simply walk.

Also, on the walking trail, snooty Blondie would just jog past me and our association would be over. But no, I gotta stand next to her for the next hour feeling inadequate and awkward.

Did I mention that I hate gyms?

In addition, Worm Girl further convinced me to sign up for the company’s annual “fitness challenge.”

Over the next eight weeks we have to get weighed and measured, attend classes, and participate in physical challenges.

Today’s challenge was to log our fastest time to run or walk a mile.

So I warmed up a bit and then cranked up the machine and galumphed my way along.

Blondie and Brunette looked in askance as I became the little curvy engine that could. I huffed and I puffed and by god when it was done, I had turned in a respectable 16:04 minute mile.

I couldn’t sustain that pace, so I did two more miles at a seventeen and a half minute pace.

And now my legs ache.

Did I mention I can’t stand gyms?

Image found at Bottomless Mimosa.