Laugh of the Day

An airline pilot wrote that on this particular flight he had hammered his ship into the runway really hard. The airline had a policy which required the first officer to stand at the door while the passengers exited, smile, and give them a "Thanks for flying our airline."

He said that, in light of his bad landing, he had a hard time looking the passengers in the eye, thinking that someone would have a smart comment. Finally everyone had gotten off except for a little old lady walking with a cane.

She said, "Sir, do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"Why, no, Ma'am," said the pilot. "What is it?"

The little old lady said, "Did we land, or were we shot down?"

Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD)

Unfortunately I'm surrounded by many of these types on a daily basis.  I suppose as long as I recognize it as a "disorder," it's easier to overlook.  Even funny at times. 


 

"It must be humbling to suck on so many different levels. "

~ Sheldon Cooper

HIIT IT!

HIIT.  High Intensity Interval Training. 

It's a form of training that involves  involves alternating between periods of low or moderate intensity and periods of high intensity, and it takes a fraction of the time of a normal cardio workout.

Yesterday morning I was short on time, needing to be at a friend's church early in order to practice along with her and another friend.  Our trio was singing yesterday morning at their worship service, and we needed sound checks as well as a run-through and warmup for our voices.  I wanted to get the most possible out of my window of time to burn some fat while enjoying the beautiful Sunday morning air and the serene stillness. 

HIIT sprints, I decided, was the way to go.

The advantages of going with HIIT are many.  For one thing, it takes less time -- I had a 25-minute window.

• Increases your V02 max much more than steady-state cardio. This means it increases the amount of oxygen your body can take in during exercise.
• Doesn’t cause you to lose precious muscle mass like traditional steady-state cardio does. When you engage in long, slow cardio sessions, your body is more likely to become catabolic where it starts to eat its own muscle for energy.  This doesn't happen during HIIT.
• And if a person is trying to GAIN muscle, you would simply combine the HIIT workouts with a slight increase in calories above maintenance level, and they become a more anabolic type workout, which INCREASES lean muscle mass.  More muscle, less fat, equals higher metabolism and ... SEXIER body composition.



(Yes.  I know.  Legs need to be leaner!  A work in progress.)

There are many variations of doing a HIIT workout, but I decided to go with the 30 second/90-120 second split:  Maximum intensity for 30 seconds, and I chose to keep my recovery to 90 seconds.  I warmed up for 5 minutes at a brisk walk, then launched into eight sprint intervals at a 30/90 split, cooling down with a brisk walk for about 3 minutes.

It's an extremely quick and efficient way to get in some very decent fat-burning cardio to start my day, and it wakes up both my brain AND my body in record time.  It's as if it flips my inner power button -- charged for the day.  There are just some days when I need a swifter kickstart to my day.  HIIT intervals always do the trick.

Ready, set....

HIIT IT!



Pieces of Her Past

When I was a young girl in elementary school, I remember being so excited about learning how to read and spell.  I was starved for it.  I loved the challenge of it.  I loved those first reader books we had, "Tip and Mitten."  And "Spot."

See Spot run.

Run, Spot.  Run.

1965

We had spelling tests a couple times a week, as I recall.  The teacher would recite the word-- words we had learned from our reading books that week --and we would list them on our paper in a single vertical numbered row, 1 through 10.  I remember my anxiety competing the excitement of a challenge.  That razor focus.  Concentration.  I JUST HAD to get them all right.  I needed to see A+ on the top of my paper.  100%  I strived for perfection.  Vivid memories, for some reason.

Learning to read, learning to spell.  I took it seriously.  I wanted to be "smart."

A couple of weeks ago my cousin approached me and gave me a very precious relic from my mother's past.  She had found it in her mom's (my mother's sister) things that she was having to sort through to send to storage, having recently moved her mother out of her home due to illness and aging issues and into an assisted care home.  It was my mother's spelling book, Grades 1 through 6.  Apparently back then they kept the same book for six full years.  I was ELATED to hold this piece of the past -- my MOTHER'S past -- in my hands.  I had chill bumps.  Tears filled my eyes with excitement.

By J. Freeman Guy, M.A., Ph.D. - Copyright 1927

Apparently she liked to doodle...?

And she liked to draw hearts.

And she was ... in love?

I later learned that his name was "Richard."

My mom was in love with a young man named Richard.

"Kathleen loves Richard."

And she added as a footnote..."I hope it is ok."

Was the love unrequited?

Did he love her too?

She documented other relationships of interest.

Darlene...a BFF from childhood.  I remember that name.

She loved Darlene like a sister.

The words, "I hope," an afterthought of each

expression of endearment.

And oddly ... the word "love" later scribbled out.

Did you love her, Richard?

Did you know that she loved you?

Did you break her heart?

Where are you now?





Saving the best for last.

She apparently did not have a very good track record with spelling tests.

Her interests were -- well, on other things.

Like...Richard?

Seeing my mother's handwriting as a child ... I can't even describe how that moves me emotionally.  I wish I had paid attention.  Demanded to hear more stories.  Details.  Favorites.  Cherished memories.

I now scramble to find and preserve all that I can as I come across things that once were hers, both from recent past and from very long ago.  All of it sacred.

Placing it here, in my blog, gives it more permanence.  Attention.  Meaning.  Longevity.

So.  My mother didn't like spelling, it seems.

But she was a romantic.

I get that.  I knew that.  This just proved that she likely had always been a romantic.

I miss you, Mom.  I have so many things I want to say.  My heart aches to sit with you, laugh with you, talk with you.  Drink coffee and eat homemade pie.  Gossip.  Watch old movies together.  Play Show and Tell with our latest fashion purchases.  Take walks together.  The list goes on ...

... and it has grown longer and longer, replaying over and over, as time passes.

I'll take good care of your book for you.  I'll share it with your grandsons, and with their children.  I'll tell them what a funny, classy, beautiful, warm and wonderful grandmother they had.

And some day...when I get to heaven...

I'll want to know.  Full details:  Who was Richard?

Rest in peace, Beautiful Kathleen.



Laugh of the Day

“A recent study found

that you're much more

likely to get shot

by a fat cop

if you run."

~ Dennis Miller

Lead, Follow or GET OUT OF THE WAY!

On my commute in to the office this morning, the sun was shining, the flowers and trees were blooming, spring bursting forth in jubilance all about -- even in my step.  Just one of those ... ahhh, yes...decadent spring mornings.  Life is good.   

And then I entered upon the highway.  And that euphoria began to dissipate.

Three words:  Left-lane drivers.

It's no secret that I have a bit of pent-up road rage.  It's unfortunate, in a way, that I can't just blow it off, ignore the self-centered morons who frequent our highways.  I would prefer to be more lackadaisical when the challenges of driving on America's highways ruffle my feathers and rob me of what would have been a happy and positive start to a glorious spring day.

SCENE:  All three lanes, crammed and cluttered with long lines of slow(er)-moving traffic, the far left lane illumined with constant red brake lights from drivers hoping to pass, tension not exactly an inanimate force at this hour.  Yes, folks are thrilled to be going nowhere fast. 

I finally manage to snake and maneuver my way in and out and of the middle and right lanes, and once more to the middle, making my way alongside the lead car in the left lane.  Infuriated, I see the woman driver looking down at her cell phone, TEXTING,  coasting along in her dirty-blue piece of crap clunker (I'm trying to be kind), her speed oscillating between 10 and 15 mph under the speed limit -- IN THE PASSING LANE.  TEXTING.  IN THE PASSING LANE!



It's really too bad that I didn't have a set of these flash cards on hand. 

Sometimes it just FEELS GOOD to get it out.  To give your frustrations a voice.  If only my son was in the car, I would have ordered him to whip out his cell phone and video this maniac texting on her phone at rush hour in the far left lane.  But he was not.  So to "muscle-up" my message, while helping to release my rising ire, I laid on my horn for a good 5-7 seconds alongside her car before cutting over in front of her with laser-like agility and timing.  The look on her face was priceless.

I may be paving my way to hell for this kind of behavior.  Me?  Meek and gentle?  Hardly.  But on the other hand, I restrained myself from fleeting hand gestures and/or flashing my lights.  I suppose I could have surrendered to those inner demons and lost ALL control. 

And it seems I got my message across while earning the Highway Hero of the Morning Award from a long line of drivers,
every bit as frustrated as I had been,
as I watched in my rearview mirror
this Left-Lane-Lunkhead-Texting-Twit creep into the middle lane
and that long line of cars speeding angrily past her.

Heeeeeeeerrrrrre, I come to save the day!

The time has come for me to consider one of those static cling backward-reading “Move Over” windshield decals (complete with an arrow that points to the right) so that I can more “gently prod” these misguided morons into, well, getting the hell out of the way when they see it in their rearview mirror.   But then again, maybe not such a great idea when coming up behind a state trooper.  NAH.  Never mind.

It seems we need stiffer fines for loons clogging the left lane.  Maybe then (or maybe not) they'll begin to get the message:

LEAD, FOLLOW OR GET OUT OF THE WAY!

Ireland ~ A Tribute

In Honor of St. Patrick's Day...

To Ireland,

and all those who share in its tradition, its love, and its pride.

I'll be making Dirt Balls today, decorated "Irish," and sharing them with our music sound crew at our church who have put in a lot of love and time in preparing the music and video for tomorrow's service.  Their hard work will NOT go unnoticed.

Happy St. Patrick's Day, world!

We, the Jury...

I'm sitting in the courtroom right now, multitasking, waiting for the jury to return their verdict.
 

Piled on my desk in the courtroom:

A mug of coffee
My laptop
Data DVD's
A book (End of Normal)
My keys to the courtroom
A stack of notes, reminders to myself
My docket
Pens
My cell phone (on silent!)

The courtroom is vacant at the moment, the lawyers and parties having gotten bored with waiting, leaving instructions with the bailiff on where to reach them when the jury reaches a verdict.  The courtroom clerk has excused herself, overcome with munchies, and has gone off in search of a sugar fix.  The judge is in his chambers talking on the phone, signing orders and smoking cigarettes--despite the country-wide ordinance of no smoking in public buildings, but who is brave enough to challenge a circuit judge on what he can and cannot do in his own chambers?  No one has tried so far.

This is a bizarre case.  Short and sweet.  A woman was driving a wrecker one night after dark, on her way to see a friend for a social visit, and out of nowhere appears a woman in the road, who, the evidence suggests, was likely drunk, dressed in dark clothing, and although the defendant claims she tried her best to swerve and avoid hitting this woman, the side mirror of the wrecker ends up striking the woman and she's knocked off the road into a deep and obscure drainage ditch.  The driver in panic continues to drive and "leaves the scene of the accident," later calling 911 to report having witnessed a young boy getting struck by a car, lying about that, the location of the event, and other details in her conversation with Dispatch.  The driver insisted that she was deeply concerned in her report to 911 of what she had apparently just witnessed, but preferred not to get involved.  It is later learned that part of her bizarre actions following the event were due to the fact that she did not have a valid driver's license at the time of the accident and did not want to "get caught."

Authorities are dispatched to the scene, falsely directed by the panicked driver, finding nothing, obviously.  Two days later the victim's body is found in the deep ditch off the side of the road.  The victim, it is represented, was a known town drunk who wandered up and down the highway at all times of the day and night.

During the subsequent investigation, the police catch up with the perpetrator, and fast-forwarding the story, she admits to guilt and pleads guilty straight up in court and ends up serving time for the felony of leaving the scene of an accident causing death. 

The victim's sisters, two women who also share that same and questionable reputation of their lost loved one, are now suing in civil court for damages. 

Contributory negligence is being argued by the defense.

Compensatory and punitive damages are being sought by the plaintiffs.

Although I do not claim to exonerate the actions of the defendant for not having stopped after the accident nor failing to call for assistance, I can't help but wonder how much negligence should be attributed to the victim for having been stone drunk in the middle of the road after dark, dressed in dark clothing.

The jury is obviously struggling with that same issue, as the clock on the wall ticks away the passage of time. We patiently (or not so patiently) await their decision:

Meanwhile, I will continue archiving court records, answering emails, reading my book (I'm loving it!), and ... BLOGGING.

 “Where there's a will, there's a lawsuit."

~ Addison Mizner

Confessions of a Book Sniffer

The End of Normal.  I've just begun reading this book, lended to me by my friend/neighbor.  Her recommendation.  It grabbed me at the first page.  That's a good thing.  I hate it when I have to read several pages -- or worse, a chapter or two -- before I can connect with a book. 

It's Stephanie Madoff Mack's story of her marriage and of her husband's suicide in the wake of the controversial fiasco with her infamous father-n-law/jerk, Bernard Madoff.   An inspired memoir of surviving personal tragedy amid public scandal.

I'm sneaking reads in between hearings in the courtroom, when we have a spare five or ten minutes, or if a hearing cancels, and at night right before I fall asleep.  Reading is the best way for me to unwind, relax and surrender to slumber.  Without a shift to another focus, my mind will just wander from thought to thought, planning this, worrying about that, rethinking, sometimes even fantasizing--well, that's actually kind of fun-- keeping me from letting go and shutting down.  I'm high-strung that way, I guess.

Anyway, I'm excited to get back to a good read.  It's been a while.  Reading is one of my great (and first) loves.  I'm curious to read about her take on that most bizarre and "enormous international Ponzi scheme."

As I reflect back to my days as a young girl, I can remember my two sisters and I waiting anxiously for the weekly visit at our elementary school from the "Bookmobile."  It was a traveling bus/library, and we were thrilled to be able to board the bus and check out our week's limit -- seven books -- devouring them one by one, eagerly depositing them the following week so that we could tackle the following week's quota.

We were secretly competing against each other as well as our peers, our "book reading lists" growing longer and longer as the months wore on.  It frustrated me that I'd never be able to keep up with them, my being the youngest of the three sisters.  They could read much faster than I could, obviously, and they seemed to have a better attention span.  Besides, I'd always stop at a word I didn't know to look up its definition in the dictionary, toss it around in my mind a bit, try it on for size, then resume where I left off, the challenge of broadening my vocabulary ever so fascinating.

My favorite reads were the Nancy Drew mystery series.  I remember Nick, her boyfriend; reflecting back, I think I had a crush on him.  I remember lying in bed on cold, winter Saturday mornings, huddled under a pile of blankets, munching on Poptarts and reading Nancy Drew.

Great memories.  Reading was a huge part of my childhood.   I'm a book sniffer.  I remember loving the smell of books, walking into a library and getting high off that seductive scent of ink and glue, savoring that distinguishing aroma.  And I remember my little blue library card with MY NAME typed on it.  Now that was a big deal, my very own ID card of sorts, signifying ME as an official book lover.  Reading was a cherished escape for me, allowing me to become someone else in another place and time, reliving the stories of fictional and non-fictional characters, traveling the world and meeting interesting people, exposing me to ideas and concepts and ideologies that certainly must have helped shape and determine my path.  I'm grateful for that.

“I love the smell of book ink in the morning.”  

~ Umberto Eco

There's something to be said about being a child of a low-income family, not having the resources to go out and do, see, spend money and such like many other kids my age those many years ago.  We had to get creative with our sources of entertainment.  And standing in line, awaiting the arrival of the Bookmobile, although I didn't know it at the time, was the nexus of my love affair with reading and poetry and journalism and all things having to do with WORDS.

It paid off.  Fast-forward to my graduation from college with a degree in court reporting.  My career, as a court reporter -- it's perfect for me, and I'm blessed to love what I do for a living.

And it's likely those weekly trips to the Bookmobile helped pave the way.

Fitness Tip of the Day - Heeding the Call

The FTD showcased in my blog today says to set a target weight for a special event or occasion. 

Setting goals.  It's vital to achieving them.  There must be a purpose, a plan, a vision. 

Quoting Tom Venuto:

"Goals, when properly planted in the subconscious mind, produce action.

Goals create energy and motivation.

Goals get you out of bed early in the morning and into the gym.

The secret to staying motivated all the time is to set emotionally charged goals

– in writing -

and to stay totally focused on those goals day and night,
without taking your eyes off them.
A goal with a purpose is the fuel that propels you forward."

So I'm heeding the call:  I plan to weigh between 138-140 by June 15th.

MARCO ISLAND TIME

Set a goal.

Set it now.

Heed the Call.

Tom Gleeson - Neeah theh's a funny bloke!

(Love me some Aussie accent!)

Coughing, Coughing, Coughing -- Enuf Already

It's no fun being sick.  I developed a cough and sore throat this past Sunday, and it's been downhill ever since.  Coughing incessantly, sore throat, energy is TANKED, and major brain fog.  Sucking down cough drops all morning long yesterday, trying to make it through a deposition without being disruptive (it's rather difficult covering your mouth to cough when your hands are busy).  Focusing was inordinately challenging!



Yesterday was SUCH a beautiful day -- I wanted desperately to be able to enjoy that weather and go for a run.  Exercise has been out of the question these past few days.  The mind is willing, but the flesh is oh-so-weak.

Run its course, already.  Please. 

I've gone to bed early every night this week, and I'm feeling lazier by the minute.  I'm going for a morning walk in a few minutes.  The morning air may (or may not) do me some good.  At least I can PRETEND to enjoy it. 

I haven't been to the gym to lift since last Friday, and it was not a good workout since I was quite depleted after a full week of low carbs.  My body could use some good nutrition, no doubt, and I've tried to eat as healthy as I can this week, adding fruits and vegetables to my otherwise lower carb menus.  Lots of fluids.  Lots of green tea. 

Guess I'll have to just wait this one out.  But I'm not a patient person, especially when it means putting the skids on exercise.

Hoping for a better day.

Safe Journey - Tron Syversen

No
words
necessary.

Music                                  

and                  

images

that take my breath......                   

                      

                            .......away.

Happy Birthday, Oreo!

The Oreo turns 100 today.  One hundred years of yummy goodness. 

I can remember growing up with Oreos.  Loved dipping them in milk, waiting until just the right amount of sogginess, then letting them dissolve into my mouth.  That was MY favorite way of eating them.

I never much liked twisting them open first.  I preferred the BLEND of the two flavors together.

A little black, a little white.  A perfect marriage of sweetness.

I liked stacking them, seeing how many I could stack before they'd fall over.




How has the Oreo impacted my world?

Well, I can remember their comforting me in my misery while lying in the bathtub, covered to my neck in an oatmeal and Aveeno bath, suffering from a horrible outbreak of adult chickenpox while seven months pregnant.  (There wasn't an inch of my body, it seems, that wasn't covered in itchy, stinging, oozing chicken pox!) 

I was miserable, and the only way that I felt comfortable was covered to my neck in an Aveeno bath.  I distinctly remember laying there, eating Oreo after Oreo -- yes, while in the bathtub -- worrying myself to death over what effect my chickenpox might have on my unborn child. (My doctor gently informed me that a baby could potentially be born blind if the mother was infected with chickenpox during pregnancy!) *

Oreo after Oreo, crunch after crunch, until alas they were all gone.

I had eaten the entire bag.  All.By.Myself.

Calories were the least of my concerns.

(* Incidentally, my son was born with perfect eyesight, Praise the Lord!  It was my first question, as soon as I gave birth in the delivery room, "Can he see?  Can he see!"  And everyone assured me he was as healthy as can be -- and continues to be to this day. )

I remember mushing them up in vanilla ice cream as a kid.  Later...the "Dairy Queen Oreo Blizzard" is born.

Since then I have discovered the recipe for infamous Dirt Balls made with Oreos, cream cheese, and coated in chocolate.  Always a huge hit at any party, and my son's favorite dessert at Christmas.

It's odd that Oreos are one of the most popular cookies in the world, with over 95 million sold every day, yet no one seems to know where they came from or how they got their name.

Alas, the long forgotten history of the cookie boasting the most significant reputation all across world.

Oreo Lovers Unite. 

Long Live the Oreo.

WHOA! --- I FEEEEEEEEL ... (embarrassed)

So just as everyone bowed their heads to pray in church this morning,
suddenly,
abruptly,
in the reverent stillness a blast is heard --

  Out of Sight The Very Best of James Brown I Got You I Feel Good by James Brown @ ARTISTdirect.com



... embarrassed beyond words, I began hastily scrambling and fumbling in my purse for my cell phone...



PUH-LEEZE!  Of all places for this to happen.  I had left the house, having forgotten to silence the sound settings before the service began.

The outbreak of surrounding snickering was deafening to my ears,
as I finally managed to engage the SILENT setting
and then began slinking further and further down into my pew.

I'm sure it left an indelible impression with my fellow church members.

Girlfriend Fix

"Pizza is a lot like sex.

When it's good, it's really good.

When it's bad, it's still pretty good."

Why is it that pizza doesn't photograph well?  I mean, seriously.  When you are staring at a warm pizza straight out of the oven, smack dab in front of you, it's Christmas Morning.  Bells and whistles and choruses of angels...You are looking at a masterpiece.

But snap a picture of that sucker and try to relive those feelings later?  Nah.  Ain't gonna happen.  It's a serious letdown.  Unlike movie stars and celebrities, pizzas are not photogenic.

I am headed out today for a shopping day trip with two of my girlfriends that I rarely see since making our move about ten years ago.  They're the kind of friends that you can pick up the phone after months of months of not talking and begin in the middle of a sentence and no one misses a beat.  We pick up right where we left off.

We'll be shopping throughout the day downtown, then we're headed to Pies & Pints (their choice, they can't wait to try it!) for pizza and beer.  Their best seller is their Chicken Gouda pizza.  OMG.  My taste buds are working overtime already.  AND today is my high carb day.  I've been rather low carb all week, trying to shake up my metabolism to drop a few pounds, and after all the lifting and cardio from this past week, my body is starting to shutdown.  I can always tell when it's time for a refeed.  Or a cheat meal. 

Can you say: 

RESET?

And what better way to do it than with Chicken Gouda Pizza from Pies & Pints, after spending the day shopping with girlfriends.

Can't wait...Bring on the day!

Here's to lifelong friendships

.

"There are not many things in life so beautiful as true friendship,

and not many things more uncommon."

Hermit Blogger In the Spotlight

It's no secret that I'm quite the hermit when it comes to blogging.  

In fact, my blog breaks the "blogger rules" as blogs typically go.  

Or so it seems.

I don't do widgets (much). 

I don't campaign.  I don't do much hyperlinking.

My blog is basically just my little corner of the internet 

where I choose to "unload."  

And if there are other people who happen to wander 

into my little corner of the world, 

that's great.  

I welcome visitors.  The more the merrier.  

I'm a bit of a mystery, figuratively and literally.  I deviate at times.

So in followup to my last blog entry where

I answered questions from another blogger who tagged me to play "The Question Game," 

I will be posting MY questions to Deborah (because she started it)...



... and also posting my questions openly.  (Oh, no, I've already broken the rules!)  Whoever happens into my blog and WANTS to play (the question game), that TOTALLY works for me.  

This is my version of: 

Play It Forward

The Rules Are:

1. You must post the rules.
2. Post eleven fun facts about yourself on the blog post. (isn't this one redundant?)
3. Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post and then create eleven new questions to ask the people you've tagged.
4. Tag eleven bloggers, however, you can break the rules and tag fewer people if you want.
5. Let them know you've tagged them!
6. Have fun!

I've already answered Deborah's questions in my last post.  

Now I'll list eleven fun facts about myself, followed by my questions to Deborah, et al...

...well, here's a long list, so it's actually more than eleven, because, well, I'm just more fun than a barrell of monkeys!

Morning person or late night person?

Do you look people in the eye when you are talking to them?

How old were you in your first serious relationship?

Favorite genre of music?

Christmas lights:  white or colored?

First physical characteristic or attribute you notice about the opposite sex?

Where do you want to retire?

Where do you want to travel to most?

Do you believe in instant chemistry between two people?

Predictable or spontaneous?

What do you like on your pizza?

So, What's YOUR Question?

Interesting.  I've just discovered that I'm being interviewed.  Well, sort of.  I'm usually the one RECORDING the questions and answers.  Now I'M the one GIVING the answers.

It appears I've been tagged by my sweet-n-funny friend and blogger, Deborah~~~who it seems I have known for years but have unfortunately never met in person~~~to answer a list of questions directed to other lucky bloggers whom she has chosen to interview.  And after answering HER questions, I'm to PLAY IT FORWARD.

Hmm.  Okay.  This should be fun.  (I'm a game lover, and I'm frankly tired of proofreading right now and desperately need a break!)

The Rules Are:

1. You must post the rules.
2. Post eleven fun facts about yourself on the blog post. (isn't this one redundant?)
3. Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post and then create eleven new questions to ask the people you've tagged.
4. Tag eleven bloggers, however, you can break the rules and tag fewer people if you want.
5. Let them know you've tagged them!
6. Have fun!

These are the questions that Deborah is sending out to her tagees:

1. Left or right handed? -- Right  

2.  Introvert or extrovert? - Introvert, with bursts of extrovert

     3.  Dog or cat?  - Dog

4.  Coffee or tea?  - Coffee preferably, but I drink a shit load of green tea
 
5.  Cream or black?  - Cream

6.  Carnivore or vegetarian?  - oh, Deborah, really?  Carnivore

7.  Stairs or escalator? - Stairs if they're beside the escalator

8.  Shopper or buyer?  - Shopper

9.  Dancer or drinker?  {you know, at the clubs, heh} - Um, dancer that drinks?

10.  Car singer or car dancer?  - Car singer

11.  Naked or jammies?  -    Neither, but as very little as possible.  (I live with all men and I'm a modest type, always having feared they'd walk in on me one morning and find me asleep in the nude!)


Now.  For my list to others...this may take some creative thinking. 

Stay tuned...