confession favorite things life tv/movies

What’s in a name?

Dr. Akemi  Togawa

This weekend, the husband and I had a monster movie double feature of a couple of childhood favorites: The War of the Gargantuas and Baby: Secret of the Lost Legend.

I was really impressed this time around with our childhood tastes! Both of these movies are actually a decently good time, even if you aren’t 5 years old.

So the War of the Gargantuas: I remember watching this movie as a child. This is where I learned that monsters live in the mountains. This is also the first and only time I saw someone with my own name in a real-life movie. My parents tell me that I was very worried about Dr. Akemi Togawa. Apparently, I was glued to the tv until I knew she made it out ok.

This time around, as I settled into the movie, I found it odd that they don’t mention the lady doctor’s name during the first half of the movie. It’s all just a bunch of “Dr? Dr.”

And then! And then she falls off a cliff and is hanging on for dear life when the American doctor finally says her name.

As someone who never randomly hears my name unless someone is talking to me: it’s jarring. It’s jarring to hear ‘Akemi!’ yelled from the tv.

And from then on out, it was constant yelling of her name. Pronounced a myriad of ways, but all very recognizable as, well, my name. It caught me off guard every time. Every time!

I have to say, I really am quite used to being an almost-only. It used to bother me, as a kid, when I could never find my name on a keychain. But now? Now, I couldn’t be happier to be one of a few. It’s a small club, but it’s a good one.

confession life


So I’ve got this project to do for the dad, that really won’t take terribly long, I just need to sit down and do it.

But instead of just doing it, I feel like I’m back in college.  Back in college and avoiding my homework …

So far, instead of coding up the dad’s POS (his acronym, not mine, I promise), I bought some pink shirts.  And then I bought some knitting books and yarn.  I’ve eaten some apple pie.

And now, I’m blogging!

After this, I’m thinking about maybe doing the dishes.  Or playing some Lego Harry Potter.  Or Rock Band.  Or doing my wow dailies.  Oh, and practicing my piano!  Oh, and then there’s still some banana cream pie with my name on it …

And THEN, I think I can get to work.

confession general complaints home improvements life

allergies, shmallergies

So the husband and I went in for our allergy testing this morning.  While he is no doubt more allergic than I, I do experience some spring-time misery.  I spend minimal time outside in the spring to avoid the crushing sinus headache that always hits once I’ve hit my limit;  in bad tree-pollen years, such as we had a few years back, just walking to and from the car is enough to do the damage.

Turns out, after 52 scratch tests and 7 injection tests, that I am allergic to nothing.  nada.  There was no swelling or itching, just cute little pink dots at each of the test sites.

On the other hand, after 52 scratch tests and 3 injections tests, the husband is allergic to EVERYTHING.  Trees, grass, weeds, mold, dust mites, and cats.  Yeah, cats – like the two little darlings that sleep in the room with us every night, and who are unlikely to be banished anytime soon due to the husband’s general, um, pushover nature when it comes to the cats.

So the husband will soon be starting his allergy shot regimen, going in weekly for the next 6 months, to hopefully be desensitized to all of the ‘poisons’ that are currently plaguing him.  After 6 months, he has 4 and a half years of monthly visits to look forward to.  After a year, though, he should see a significant reduction in his allergies, and should be able to tone down the meds he needs to take.

I, on the other hand, suffer from a malady known as ‘non-allergic rhinitis.’  Which basically means I have all the same symptoms – runny nose, itchy throat, congestion, sinus headache – but not for the same reason.  My nose is extra-sensitive, and anything sets it off.  Like, say, huge amounts of tree pollen floating through the air.  Or the dust in my office – my coworkers have given up on the ‘bless-yous’, seeing as I’m just a fit of sneezes all day long.

My treatment involves a lifetime of nasal sprays and neti-pots.  There is no way to train my nose to give it up already.  [sigh]  Though, at least now I know I can give up the anti-histamines, seeing as I don’t seem to be having a histamine response.  [achoo!]  Excuse me.

confession life

the sweet sounds of children playing …

Oh, the crying and the screaming and the yelling and the blaming on what’s supposed to be a fun snow day. I can’t help but think I’m glad I don’t have any of my own to contend with …

confession life

25 mundane things that you don’t care about, but I thought I’d share anyway

  1. I love hiking but haven’t done any in years.  I miss it so much, I recently volunteered with my church youth group to specifically help with outdoorsy activities.  And I don’t even like people …
  2. My name is unique, and I love it.  I don’t mind spelling it, explaining its history or talking about its meaning.
  3. My favorite color changes periodically.  It is currently purple, though I’m feeling a shift towards sagey-olivey-green.
  4. On the Myers-Brigg personality test, I am an ISTP, with an ‘I’ of 100%.  That means I am 100% introvert.  So basically, I don’t require human contact, and I don’t need or use input from others when I make decisions, which I am sure has caused great confusion among family and friends as they try to figure out what I am doing and why.
  5. My favorite pizza is pepperoni with black olive and mushroom.  Being somewhat lactose-sensitive, I usually pay a price when I indulge myself, but it is oh so worth it.
  6. I went to an extremely religiously conservative college.  While there, I learned that I hate it when everybody is the same.  I much prefer to be surrounded by people with different ideas, preferences, backgrounds and characteristics.  I have learned more from people who are NOT like me than I have learned from people who are like me.
  7. I got into software engineering to prove that I could hack it in a man’s world.  I stayed because it turns out I’m kind of really awesome at it.
  8. I think pretty highly of myself, but I haven’t always.
  9. I sometimes have a favorite brother.  (It’s not always the same brother.  And each of them has held the honor at one time or another.)
  10. I am claustrophobic and have a fear of suffocation.  You’ll never find me on the inside of a booth at a restaurant, I dread the dentist, I’ve never been able to relax enough to learn how to tread water, and the only real panic attack I’ve ever had was while snorkeling.
  11. I don’t fear getting old because my mother is gorgeous, and she seems to get even more so the older she gets.  I have confidence that I will make it to 60 with my good-looks intact.
  12. If you really, really want to get to know me, establish an IM relationship with me.  I am most comfortable sharing myself through IM – I probably share TOO much through IM.
  13. I was the third best writer in my high school AP English class.  As for the two ahead of me, one just got her first book published, and the other is working on her phd at Princeton.  Princeton!  And all I got is a blog I named after myself that gets 12 readers on a good day.  That’s all third best gets ya.
  14. I love celebrity gossip and advice columns.
  15. I can’t remember the last book I read.  I keep meaning to get back into reading, but it just hasn’t happened yet.
  16. I got a facial for the first time last year, and it was awesome.
  17. I am currently subscribed to 52 blogs.  Thank goodness for google reader, or I would never be able to keep up with them all.
  18. I love google.  Right now, I have a tab open for gmail, a tab for google reader, a tab for google search, and I’m writing my 25 things in google docs.
  19. I don’t really have a strong passion for any one thing – I tend to dabble in a lot of things, and my passions ebb and flow.
  20. I play entirely too much freecell, mah jong, solitaire and mine sweeper.  I tend to play the games in ‘speed mode,’ with lots of rapid clicking and little thinking ahead.  I don’t often win …
  21. My husband is my best friend.
  22. I really hate javascript.  I’d like for it to DIAF.  Until that happens, I suppose Firebug makes it a little more bearable.
  23. I am fluent in regular English as well as technogeek.
  24. I’m friggin’ hilarious. But I’m the only one who thinks so.
  25. My pizza name is Kim. Sometimes Amy. But mostly Kim.
confession food

to bed without dinner

I thought about making myself some spaghetti or rice for dinner, but then I realized that all the dishes are dirty.  Pans, plates, silverware, you name it, it’s dirty.

meh.  Who needs food?


6 quirky things

One of my favorite people ever did a ‘6 quirky things’ post a few days back, and it seemed like so much fun, here I am doing it.  🙂

It’s really one of those blog-chain-letter things, and if you’d like to carry on the tradition, here are the rules:

1) Link to the person who tagged me
2) Mention the rules
3) Tell six quirky yet boring, unspectacular details about myself
4) Tag 6 other bloggers by linking to them
5) Go to each person’s blog and leave a comment that lets them know they’ve been tagged

So here’s my list:

1) I like to jump on hotel beds.

2) I like to stomp in puddles after a good, warm rain.  I picked up this habit after I moved out of the perpetually wet Pacific Northwest – I think because they don’t ever get good, warm rains.

3) I was a devourer of books until I went to college.  It seems that reading college texts sucked all the fun out of reading.  Now I only read on airplanes.

4) I love legos.  Like a lot.  Like more than any grown woman should.  And I have the lego collection to prove it.

5) I require as many calories as the husband.  And thanks to wonder of fabulously lucky genetics, I am less than half his size.

6) I often buy the wrong thing at the grocery store.  Like fat-free, low-sodium, or sugar-free when my goal is to buy the regular version.  This week’s snafu?  I bought regular sprite instead of sprite zero.  I can feel my teeth eroding already.

Because I like to tempt the fate of chain letter superstitions, I’m not going to tag anybody.  But, um, if you are reading my blog AND have a blog of your own – well, you’re one of the 6 people on the planet that fit that criteria … so consider yourself tagged.  🙂

confession life

flexibility, shmexibility

The husband and I recently joined a gym (yay for us!!) and we went in this week for our free fitness profile.  They asked us bunches of questions (them: how active are your jobs?  us:  um, we sit in front of computers all day.  but we move our arms!  and hands and fingers!), pinched our skin fats, took our weights and measurements, and then it was time for the physical tests.


I’m proud to say, we survived it!  And I have to say, I think we did quite well, considering the fact that we have done little more than sit for the last 6 years.  Sure, sometimes I vacuum or walk through the grocery store – but that’s about all the physical activity my life demands these days.

I survived 15 minutes on the treadmill, did 28 sit-ups in a minute, and did 20 (girl) push-ups before my arms started shaking so much I feared I might find myself square on my face.

But then there was the flexibility test.

I have never, in my life, been able to touch my toes.  When I’ve worked on it for months, I can get kinda close – like the lower part of my shin.  When I was 8 and working on my presidential fitness stuff – I could do the mile, the sit-ups, more pull-ups than any of the other girls – but the darn flexibility test was just impossible.  I remember being met with disbelief when I stretched as far as I could go, when my legs were trembling with the strain, my knees begging to bend, and my fingertips were still nowhere near my toes.

So I failed the flexibility test miserably.  Couldn’t even register on their little measurement device, I think I only made it just past my knees.

I’ve never believed much in the whole touch-your-toes test, I guess because I’ve never been able to.  I don’t think it’s kept me from accomplishing anything physical that I’ve ever wanted to.  I’ve hiked up and down mountains, done round-house kicks, managed to get 80-pound boxes into my house.  The only thing I’ve missed out on is, well, the satisfaction of touching my toes.

confession food life

on my own

The husband is in Vegas for the rest of the week for work and play.  So that means that I get to do whatever I want!  woohoo!  I sent him off with a walletful of play money, so I think that means I get to go on a shopping spree …

So the first order of business for tonight was to stop off randomly on my way home from work for a cheeseless taco and burrito.  (Which are surprisingly not bad – way better, than, say, a cheeseless pizza …)  And now I’m working on a box of teddy grahams.  And there’s no guilt about spoiling my dinner, because I just had my dinner!  And no worries about what the husband is going to eat.  I suspect Toby Keith will take care of him.

Second order of business was to turn the thermostat up.  To 73!  mwuhahahaha, farewell couch blankets.

Ok, that was fun.  I’m starting to get lonely now ….



Walking up and down stairs is difficult for me.  Why?  you might wonder.  I am a perfectly healthy 28-year old, stairs shouldn’t give me any problems.  It’s true that I don’t have the best knees or ankles, but that’s not where the trouble lies.

I seem to suffer from a compulsion to run up and down stairs.  I don’t know why I do it.  But when I’m at home and have to get from one floor to another, I do it at a run.  I even run up my front steps on occasion.

I don’t know how long I’ve been a stair runner.  It’s only recently that I’ve even noticed that I do it.  I run up the stairs.  I run down the stairs.  It certainly doesn’t seem like a safe habit, but the times I’ve slipped or almost slipped on my stairs are when I was taking them at a nice, normal pace.

I don’t do it in the mornings, when I’m groggy and don’t have my glasses on.  I don’t do it when I’m carrying large loads.  I don’t do it when I’m carrying a kitty.

Other than that, though, if you hear the sound of stampeding elephants … that’s just me goin’ upstairs.