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Groceries, groceries, groceries. If the blog seems very dry today, you are not the only one. I've had about as much groceries as I can take. To change things up a bit I'm posting this very...wet picture of Lance Armstrong. I'm linking to it because it shows a lot of skin! ~Julia
The secret to my fleeting fitness - I swear two faint vertical lines appear on my stomach some mornings - is a corny video Hubby found online. It's called Eight Minute Abs and is lead by a guy wearing the tightest spandex one-piece I have seen since 1982. The only thing cheesier than his outfit is the music. Warning: if watching at work before you press play put your volume at the lowest setting. But don't mute. That would take all the flava flave out of it.
When Hubby first showed me Eight Minute Abs I rolled my eyes like any good wife would. This bulging spandex guy and his squeaky voice was the most ridiculous thing I'd seen! And tacky! And ridiculous! But...I did want to strength my core. And my abs certainly were tired afterwards. Now I'm humming the soundtrack at work and recommending it to my sister!
I think the goofiness of the video perfectly complements the serious task at hand, fighting flab. What do you think?
I have not endured child labor or battled a ferocious disease like cancer, but finishing the Wildflower Triathlon Sunday was the hardest, most painful thing I have done. During the .9 mile swim I swam off course at least twice but saved energy by drafting other swimmers. The scenery along the 25 mile bike ride was beautiful and I struck up a casual acquaintance with a rider named Larry who passed me about 5 times. I was quicker than him on the uphills, but his extra heft made him faster on the downhills.
The run, however, was miserable. Legs of lead, stomach churning, everybody passing me. Every step of the 6.2 mile run was a mental battle to keep my body moving and not give up, which was the only thing I wanted to do. I expected the last three miles would be tough, but I was unprepared for 6.2 miles of agony.
To keep myself going I thought about my friend JM, who recently gave birth, and my honored teammate Meghan, who battled cancer. Surely what they went went through was much worse, I told myself. I compared my constant, consuming pain to how bad it would feel to know this was my last day on earth. My body answered immediately: this is still really hard.
I stopped many times to walk a few steps, but made my self restart because I knew if I rested too long I would not start running again. 
The wonderful cheering fans, mostly students from nearby Cal Poly, kept me moving. Walking up a hill I heard a man yell "Nobody has ever passed this chair walking! You can do it, start running!" I did - slowly - and stumbled on.
Somehow I managed to make it to the last mile of the race, a steep downhill. I caught a girl wearing a yellow Cal Berkeley jersey and we booked it all the way to the finish. (I'm on the right.) Gravity was on my side and I reassured myself by saying out loud "you can do it" and "almost there." I crossed the finish line and the clock said 4:11:42. Not bad, especially considering my wave started an hour and ten minutes into the race. My total time to cover 32 miles: 03:01:42, which is much faster than the 3:15:00 to 3:30:00 I predicted.
Back at camp my coach came over to ask me how I felt.
"Okay," I said. "The run was really tough."
"So what was your final time?"
"3:01."
"What?"
I opened my mouth and laughed. I'm a rock star, baby! (And so is my friend Amy, below right, who roped me into this mess.) 
All those times I felt unable to keep running but somehow did, I think I figured it out. So many people kept me in their thoughts Sunday - I can tell from the number of calls, emails, and questions I got before and after the race - that you guys pushed me to the finish line. Thank you!!
My support crew, aka Hubby, was more awesome that you can imagine. He was there at every step, cooking me pasta dinners after swim practice, encouraging me to workout early in the morning hours before he wanted to wake up, re-arranging his weekend plans to fit in my team practices every Saturday. Now our roles of athlete and support crew have switched as Hubby is running the NYC Marathon in November!
The triathlon I have been training the past 10 weeks for is this Sunday, May 4 and I've done everything I can to ready myself. I trained hard, stretched nearly everyday, and done, like, a million sit ups. I even painted my toenails with the fastest color polish in my bathroom - silver.
I want to finish the 32-mile race (.9 mile swim, 25 mile bike, 6.2 mile run) in under 4 hours for sure and hopefully under 3:30. I may squeak by in under 3:15 if the stars align and it is not too hot. In past years temps have passed 100 and I absolutely wilt in the sun. Secretly I want to be a rock star and come in under 3 hours but there is no way that is going to happen unless I attach invisible rockets to my body (visible ones would get me disqualified). Mostly I want to finish feeling like I gave it my all, which is not as easy as it sounds. My usual M.O. is to save a little, just in case.
My Mom, Dad, and step-Dad will be there, plus my number one fan, Hubby. I'm nervous just thinking about getting into my wet suit and lining up with thousands of other Wildflower triathletes. We start in waves to avoid pandemonium in the water and my start is either 10:05 a.m. or 10:55 a.m. So think fast thoughts around that time!
I raised more than $3,600 while training to benefit the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. If you want to get in shape and do some good, I highly recommend Team in Training. Now wish me luck!
I don't know if this Web site is a godsend or another example of people being way too uptight. StopForwarding.us lets you anonymously e-mail someone a message asking them to stop forwarding mass e-mails containing jokes and stories.
The anonymous message doles out a lesson in e-mail etiquette. "Avoid sending forwards to friends or relatives that you've grown distant with. It can be frustrating for the recpient (sic) when the only correspondance (sic) you have with someone is via impersonal, unwanted email."
While you are at it, don't forget to spell check! Read the full e-mail your unwitting friend will receive.
I can think of a one or two people who send me messages every month that I'd rather not receive. But I choose to open them. If you really don't want to be bothered with jokes that have been forwarded a million times (hence the heading), delete them! You can always ask the offending sender to leave you off their e-mails. But sending an anonymous email? That's kind of snarky, don't you think? Of course, if you don't feel comfortable approaching the sender (say ita co-worker, this would resolve the situation tension-free.
I saw soccer star David Beckham and the LA Galaxy play their season home opener last night and let me tell you, he is just as good looking in person as in the Armani ads. I would have preferred their shorts to be a little bit shorter, as running around with all that extra material must get heavy.
We sat six rows behind the goalpost where Beckham and Landon Donovan (another favorite cutie) scored once each in the first half. Right after Beckham scored he ran towards us and did his signature double knee skid while pumping his fists. Then after Donovan scored Beckham jumped on his back and all the men piled on them. It was quite thrilling.
Check out some pictures of the game.
Today is the last day for my boss, Daily News editor Ron Kaye. He finally got canned by the powers that be. Ron is probably best known for standing up for Valley folks who felt estranged from City Hall and the rest of LA. But Ron's legacy, in my mind, is his riff on an old Saturday Night Live skit with Will Ferrell. Yes folks, I'm talking about MORE COWBELL.
When Ron decided what we were doing in the newsroom was no longer working (circulation is dropping, if you have not heard), he gathered us up and asked us to take the paper's survival into our own hands. He asked us to innovate and try new things, to be disruptive like the cowbell-playing musician Ferrell plays in the SNL skit, which you can watch below (it gets good about a minute in). Who knows, maybe we would figure out how to make the newspaper profitable. If we effed up, at least we tried.
Ron called the strategy "more cowbell" and would lurch through the newsroom shouting this slogan while banging on a metal cowbell. A lot of reporters started blogs to be innovative, including myself. Writing the Bargain Hunter blog has helped me find my "voice," which sounds abstract but means putting onto paper the words that run through your head. Ron enabled me to find my voice and for that I sincerely thank him. Whenever in doubt, just use more cowbell.
Every April 1 my Mom gets me but this year I steeled myself with constant reminders to be wary of her phone call (her usual M.O.) This year, she didn't need any help.
I had just gotten out of Tuesday night's swim practice and was a little woozy from all the water (and from keeping up with two beefcakes, which I did until the final 4 x 125s). I had a few minutes on my walk home and decided to return my Mom's call from two days before. I told her about the swim, my voracious appetite and all that follows, then she told me her news.
"Paul and I are coming up on our 20th anniversary," she said.
"Wow, has it really been that long? Congratulations," I said.
"Well you were 10 when we got married," she said.
"I lost track but I'm 30 now, so that makes sense. So what are you going to do to celebrate?"
"We're thinking of going to Hawaii in June."
"Cool."
"We want the rest of the family to come so we're checking when everyone is free."
"Well, I don't know. Andrew and I were already talking about going to Hawaii in September for our five year anniversary."
"Paul and I were going to pay for everyone."
"Okay I'll go. I'LL GO!!!"
"Just kidding, April Fool's."
"What! No free trip?"
"Nope."
I was too stunned to even ask if it really was her 20th anniversary. Fink! Next year, I promise I will get you back! (I always say that, and then I always forget. C'est la vie.) At least I didn't fall for one as obvious as what she told my sister last year - that at 62 she was adopting a baby from Guatemala.
One of my favorite blogs is Overheard in New York, which is just what is sounds like. People sharing the bizarre and ridiculous things they overhear on the subway, walking down Fifth Avenue, and other places they cram themselves into as part of everyday life in the ci-tay. B.O. is the least of their problems, let me tell you. Even if you have never been to the Big Apple you will still chuckle.
This tidbit was overheard at Jungle World in the Bronx Zoo.
Ghetto girl: Hey, look! What's that? I think it's an egg!
Friend: What the hell?! What's wrong with you? Monkeys don't lay eggs!
Ghetto girl: ... Well, how was I supposed to know that?!
Okay, so some people are just stupid. Others are motivated by deadline, according to this exchange overheard in Grand Central Station.
Bible-thumping lady: Get your Bible! We only have approximately five years left!
Passerby: Five years! Fuck! I gotta get movin'!
For more check out Overheard in New York. See also Overheard at the beach and Overheard at the office. Contribute your own bits for the benefit of those everywhere like to laugh. Note, some posts are quite raunchy.
Find out with this quick AOL calculator, which asks for seven things: your current age, the age at which you want to be a millionaire, your current investments, monthly savings, interest rate, federal tax rate and state tax rate.
You can also calculate how long it will take to pay off a debt and how much it costs to raise a child.
I hope so. The site claims to help blogs gain readers. Technorati Profile
If you haven't spent any quality time surfing Snopes.com, I highly recommend it. The Web site is devoted to busting/proving popular myths and revealing e-mail hoaxes for what they are. Check their top 25 legends to get find out which of these statements are the real deal.
1. Buying gas in the morning before temperatures rise will save you money.
2. The artificial sweetener Aspartame causes cancer, brain tumors, and multiple sclerosis.
3. April 25, 2008 is a "day of silence" to protest harassment of gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered people.
4. You will be paid for forwarding an e-mail from Bill Gates, Microsoft and AOL because you are helping them test a new e-mail system.
5. Jay Leno wrote an essay urging Americans to stay positive.
If you're too lazy to check the site click here for the answers.
UPDATE: Readers report that for those over 49 registering is needed to get your expected lifespan.
PREVIOUSLY: The Web site Livingto100.com will tell you how long you can expect to live. Take their 40-question multiple choice survey (takes about 10 minutes) and it will spit out an age. Most of the questions are about your health, diet, stress load, and family health history. I am going to live to be 93!
After you take the quiz the site offers tips to extend your life, tailored to your answers. Mine said flossing every day can add a year to my life (and don't worry, the time it takes to floss daily multipled by my expected lifespan does *not* at all cancel out the year I would gain. I did the math just in case). It also suggested I SKIP an iron supplement because iron has been shown to contribute to heart problems, the site says.
Sharing your email and contact info is optional so you won't get a lot of spam if you take the life expectancy calculator.
Well it's official. Hubby has a new woman in his life and I've been bumped to #2. Her name is Lola and she is, I hate to admit, exceedingly cute. (See the lookalike at left.) Lola always greets Hubby with a smile and has time to play (I've been known to be grumpy and preoccupied). She doesn't talk back or ask questions, like when are you going to take out the recycling? (I ask weekly.) And she lets Hubby rub her belly whenever he wants. (I'm ticklish.)
Lola usurped my position as lady of the house quite quickly. It took less than a day, actually. A few hours after our neighbors, aka Lola's parents, went on vacation Hubby was sneaking Lola treats and letting her lounge on the couch.
But I'm not worried for two reasons. One, Hubby is so happy with Lola around. The last two mornings he woke up before 7 am - before 7 am! - to take Lola on a walk, completely on his own volition. Both times he came back smiling and sweaty. Somehow Lola had convinced Hubby to - gasp - run. How many times have I invited him on a jog??? Afterwards he didn't complain about his ailing knees or his swollen ankles. Instead, he sweetly asked Lola to eat her breakfast.
Still, I'm not worried about being number two. But not because of my marriage certificate or years of partnership or joint banking account with Hubby. Nope, it's that Lola goes home Wednesday.
Normally writing the Bargain Hunter is fun, goofy, and comes relatively easy to me. Today it's a different story. Exactly 22 of my colleagues in the newsroom were laid off today. All morning everybody has been watching everybody else, waiting to see who will be called into the editor's office next. I can't keep a thought longer than...what was I saying?
I'm not sure who is worse off - those who got a measly six weeks pay for years of service or those, like me, who are left behind to recover in a shell-shocked newsroom that will inevitably shrink again unless the genius' that run this place ever realize the Internet is the future. We have, what four online employees in the newsroom? Sure, reporters contribute to special online updates when there is breaking news, and many of us churn out blog posts night and day. But I don't think there is a sense that the online version of the paper is what will make or break us.
Many people spend their time tweaking the print edition, which has improved. But do folks really think cleaner fonts and new sections will be enough to make people buy the Daily News? Keep dreaming. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe young people will start buying the print edition in droves and advertisers will return. But with craigstlist and a million other sites where people can sell stuff for free, surely we'll never see all the lucrative classified ads return.
What do you think? What would make the newspaper, online or print, worth buying? What are you interested in reading?
Here are three jokes courtesy of the Prairie Home Companion's joke show. Blame my friend Greg if you don't like them. He thought they were clever.
What does a fish say when it runs into concrete?
Dam.
Why can't single women find any caring, well-dressed, sensitive boyfriends?
They those men already have boyfriends.
What is the definition of middle age?
Being faced with two opportunities and choosing the one that gets you home earlier.
Thank you. Thank you very much. The 10 o'clock show is *totally* different than the 8 o'clock.
Hello there Bargain Hunter readers, I am felled by a cold and won't be blogging today or sending out the daily digest. I may be able to arrange a guest blogger but I'm not sure. Hope to be back tomorrow.
~Julia
The Web site FindYourSpot.com will tell you your top places to live if you take their short quiz. It takes about 10 mins and guess what? LA was not even in my top 10.
For each city they recommend for you they list average home prices, photos, population stats, and link to a job search site. The quiz asks for a lot of personal info - name, address, email, gender, marital status, ages of children living with you - but you can opt out of being contacted. (I use work address and email to avoid receiving junk mail at home.) The site was started by a Colorado lawyer and real estate broker who wanted to create a fun relocation recommendation site.
My top 10 cities were Portland, OR, Las Vegas, Eugene, OR, Baltimore, Norfolk, VA, Charleston, VW, Corvalis, OR, Frederick, MD, Honolulu, and Albuquerque, NM. Take the quiz and see where you'd like to live! Maybe we'll be neighbors.
Thanks, Sarah!
If you've ever lived in NYC or someplace where people routinely gather en masse (so, not LA), this stunt by Improv Everywhere is worth watching. Hundreds of folks show up at Grand Central Station and at the appointed time freeze for five minutes. How does everyone *not* in on the joke react?
Check out my new Facebook profile! I made it yesterday and feel both very technologically hip and as if I am 13 again. On Facebook you can "poke" someone or "throw a sheep" at them?!?! I guess that's the 21st century way of flirting online. What happened to teasing, pouting and smiling? And what is someone trying to tell you when they throw a bleating, fuzzy animal at you?
Clearly, I am on the far side of a great cultural divide and have a lot of catching up to do. If you are on Facebook find me by searching for Julia Scott or Bargain Hunter.
Guess what happens when a famous musician in plainclothes performs during rush hour in a D.C. subway stop? In a beautifully written story about violin virtuoso Joshua Bell, Gene Weingarten of the Washington Post waxes on about this question:
What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
-- from "Leisure," by W.H. Davies
Weingarten writes: "Do you hurry past with a blend of guilt and irritation, aware of your cupidity but annoyed by the unbidden demand on your time and your wallet? Do you throw in a buck, just to be polite? Does your decision change if he's really bad? What if he's really good? Do you have time for beauty? Shouldn't you? What's the moral mathematics of the moment......No one knew it, but the fiddler...
