Food storage, 6am, and my most humiliating moment since...

That was a really good idea on my part to postscript my future topics in my previous post. Now I am actually going to do it. At any given time, I have about ten different things fighting each other in my head to make it onto the web. Oh, the lost treasures of wit and wisdom that never are for lack of time and/or ambition...

Anyway, I figured I'd lump these critically important issues all together, not because they are in any fashion related, but mostly because I have two potential employers who may be perusing my blog, and a lengthy discourse should sufficiently serve to acquaint them with my writing style. However, for the faint of reading heart (Sorry, no pictures. I know-what kind of a post is this anyway?) I have conveniently divided each topic into clearly marked categories. So the most shallow of you can just skip right on down to my most embarrassing moment.


FOOD STORAGE
First up: Food storage. I was at the park with friends a couple days ago and they were asking me about the history behind food storage. Our, and others', loud children precluded my full response. Basically, the leaders of our church have counseled us for decades to have at least a three month supply of food and other essentials in case of emergency. In the last 5 or so years, it has become so clear to me how a calamity of ruinous consequences could make it necessary for us to have a supply of food and what not in the event that the stores were unwilling or unable to provide. So, since I have been living away from our families, I have really gotten into it and I love it. It helps me cook so much more efficiently. I love going to the grocery store and scoping out sales for food storage stuff. I love rotating through and restocking my cans, pasta, peanut butter, cereal and what not. I used to be so intimidated by the whole idea, but really all it is, is having more than you need of the stuff that you already use at any given time. Someday when I have more space and money I will get all hard core into it and store 50 lb drums of water, get a wheat grinder, and grow a big garden full of my own vegetables and herbs. So that's why I do it. 1-It's an exhortation. 2- I like it. 3-It's smart. And I heard Kathy Lee and Hoda talking about how it was a good idea on the Today show today, so it must be the right thing to do...great, now everyone is going to start stocking up and the global food shortage is going to be even more devastating.

6 AM EXERCISE
Secondly, I hate getting up at 6 am to exercise-no, I just hate the idea of it. Here are the reasons why I love it:
-My day rocks when I do. I was like Wonder Woman incarnate on Wednesday. I went to Spinning at 6 am. It kicked my butt. I came home, showered AND got ready...yeah, meaning I did my hair, AND put makeup on. I straightened the house, put E's sheets back on (no simple task, I assure you) cleaned the kitchen, went to the park, watered the plants, returned unused tiling tools, worked, blogged, made dinner, went to the dog park etc. etc. etc! And all while managing to keep tabs on all of my favorite cable news shows. I was amazing. Seriously.

I was going to list off all of the different reasons, but that's pretty much it. It makes my day go so phenomenally well. Did it again today, and look who is blogging once again! Basically, if I have a blog post, my day is going well because I made time to blog.

HUMILIATION AT ITS FINEST
And last but certainly not least, I think I might have had my most embarrassing moment yesterday since...well, I am never telling those other stories that involve peeing my pants, and trying on a swimsuit in WalMart, so DON'T ask...but suffice it to say, this was probably my third most embarrassing moment ever, as in, in my life. In this case, dear Lisa, it's funnier when it happens to me.

So I am casually strolling along with Duane around my condo complex yesterday. Adam was home, E was asleep, the dog needed to be walked. So walk we did. It was all going pleasantly until Duane decided to take a dump on one of my unknown neighbor's lawns. Great. I didn't have a bag or even a little Kleenex or anything to dispose of his waste-every dog owner recognizes this dilemma and might be able to predict what happens next; probably not though, because although it obviously involves poop, it is way more mortifying than you might imagine.

SO, luckily for me, I thought, the trash cans were lined up along the sidewalk for trash day. I looked in each one to try and find some morsel of paper with which to pick up my dog's discarded dung and move on with my walk and life. Found one. Unluckily, it was at the very bottom of the empty trash can. I am 5'2. So I reach, reach. Come on, reach just a little bit more...oh crap. The trash can begins to slip, and what? Yes, I pretty much fall in. I have the bruise on my leg to prove it; it freaking hurt. But it gets better. Our friends, Dane and Kelly, from dental school just moved into the complex (I wasn't sure exactly where until yesterday) and pulled up to the parking lot where I was gingerly pulling myself out of the trash can. They were on their scooter, staring at me blankly, while I desperately tried to explain that I was just rummaging through the trash to get a bag to pick up my stupid dog's crap. Oh, and they just so happened to be stopping to get their trash can...probably the one from which I had just exited. Anyway. They couldn't really hear me because they had their scooter helmets on (smart people, way to go) so that only added to the blank stare they were administering.

At length, I abandoned the bag, found another small piece of paper, picked up the poop and made Dane-the dental student, not to be confused with Duane, my dog- swear to never tell anyone about what he had witnessed. But, I wised up and decided I couldn't keep it to myself. So there you go world wide web. It was great.