YEAH! I got all six coupons!
I'd like to thank the Bigg's cashier who plugged her broken printer back in after I told her I'd bought those six big cans of diced tomatoes specifically to put my total over $50; the guy ahead of me in line who forget to take his coupon, allowing me to snag it with the purchase of only a tray of sushi and a bag of Baked Doritos; and Gina. You guys made it all possible.
3.31.2007
3.08.2007
Off the hook
As I was getting dressed yesterday morning, I heard rumbling outside my window. It sounded like a large truck.
"That's odd," I thought. "The garbage was picked up yester ..."
OH SHIT.
Construction on my street started that morning, and I forgot to move my car the night before!
Oh shit. Oh shit shit shit shit shit!
I threw on my coat and dashed outside, where I found three cars: mine, a Parking & Transportation car and a tow truck. Guess which one had its front wheels in the air.
"Hi!" I shouted, trying my best to smile. "That's my car - any chance you could maybe, like, not tow it?"
My neighbor, who had been chatting with the policeman, said, "Oh, I thought it belonged to one of those guys (pointing to a house across the street). We've been trying to tell them!"
"No, that's my car," I said. "What do I need to do now?"
The policeman said dryly, "Pay the ticket; move the car."
As the tow truck guy let my car down, my neighbor told me I was lucky that this cop was so nice. "You're the second one he's let off the hook this morning. Once they've got you on the truck, that's supposed to be it." He told me the cop and tow truck had shown up at 7:15. It was 9:30. Mine was the last car left on the street.
Finally, my Hyundai was freed from the tow truck. I pulled the little yellow ticket off the windshield and scooted the car around the corner before they could change their minds.
About 10 minutes later, I was leaving for work and the construction workers were setting up. "How ya doin'?" said one to me.
"Much better now that my car's not being towed, thanks," I said.
"Oh, they got you?" he said.
"I ran out just in time," I told him. "My car was up on the truck and everything. I got a ticket, but at least I didn't get towed."
"That was nice of them," he said. "Once it's on the truck, that's supposed to be it."
"Yeah, that's what I hear," I replied.
"But you know what?" he went on. "Those guys didn't give nearly enough notice. I was out here at 5 last night, and those signs still weren't up. I bet a lot of people didn't even see them. If I were you, I'd contest that ticket."
"Really? Huh - maybe I will," I said. (Although it might be worth the $40 to not go through what Ronson did.)
I wonder what it would be like to walk outside one morning and discover that the street is lined with "no parking" signs and your car has been towed. Maybe that's what prompted some furious fellow tenant to whip out her Sharpie and scrawl an angry, impotent message to the Cincinnati Police Department.
So, the upshot is I'm not allowed to park on my street from 7 a.m. to 6 p.m. Monday through Saturday for the next month. That's going to make grocery shopping interesting - perhaps I'll finally learn to cut back.
"That's odd," I thought. "The garbage was picked up yester ..."
OH SHIT.
Construction on my street started that morning, and I forgot to move my car the night before!
Oh shit. Oh shit shit shit shit shit!
I threw on my coat and dashed outside, where I found three cars: mine, a Parking & Transportation car and a tow truck. Guess which one had its front wheels in the air.
"Hi!" I shouted, trying my best to smile. "That's my car - any chance you could maybe, like, not tow it?"
My neighbor, who had been chatting with the policeman, said, "Oh, I thought it belonged to one of those guys (pointing to a house across the street). We've been trying to tell them!"
"No, that's my car," I said. "What do I need to do now?"
The policeman said dryly, "Pay the ticket; move the car."
As the tow truck guy let my car down, my neighbor told me I was lucky that this cop was so nice. "You're the second one he's let off the hook this morning. Once they've got you on the truck, that's supposed to be it." He told me the cop and tow truck had shown up at 7:15. It was 9:30. Mine was the last car left on the street.
Finally, my Hyundai was freed from the tow truck. I pulled the little yellow ticket off the windshield and scooted the car around the corner before they could change their minds.
About 10 minutes later, I was leaving for work and the construction workers were setting up. "How ya doin'?" said one to me.
"Much better now that my car's not being towed, thanks," I said.
"Oh, they got you?" he said.
"I ran out just in time," I told him. "My car was up on the truck and everything. I got a ticket, but at least I didn't get towed."
"That was nice of them," he said. "Once it's on the truck, that's supposed to be it."
"Yeah, that's what I hear," I replied.
"But you know what?" he went on. "Those guys didn't give nearly enough notice. I was out here at 5 last night, and those signs still weren't up. I bet a lot of people didn't even see them. If I were you, I'd contest that ticket."
"Really? Huh - maybe I will," I said. (Although it might be worth the $40 to not go through what Ronson did.)
I wonder what it would be like to walk outside one morning and discover that the street is lined with "no parking" signs and your car has been towed. Maybe that's what prompted some furious fellow tenant to whip out her Sharpie and scrawl an angry, impotent message to the Cincinnati Police Department.
So, the upshot is I'm not allowed to park on my street from 7 a.m. to 6 p.m. Monday through Saturday for the next month. That's going to make grocery shopping interesting - perhaps I'll finally learn to cut back.
3.07.2007
3.04.2007
38:18
(Apologies for the shocking lack of blog posts in the past couple of weeks. I have decided that Weight Watchers is to blame. Not only is scrutinizing the volume and content of everything you put in your mouth a timesuck; it's also quite boring. My posts would go something like: "Spent 30 minutes at the grocery store comparing different types of 'light' salad dressing. Found a bleu cheese dressing with only 2 mg fat per serving - victory! The search for a reasonably priced kitchen scale with a digital display continues." I'd much rather play Super Princess Peach than type variations on that sad theme every evening.)
My main goal when running a 5K is to finish the entire thing without stopping to walk. So far, I've been able to do this every time. (Of course, the 5K I ran this weekend was only the third I've run in my life, so I still think of this as a "goal" rather than a "given.")
My secondary goal is to beat 35 minutes, the time I posted in my first 5K. I did not do that yesterday. That's OK, though, because I finished the entire race, even though my dad and I haven't run in a few months. (We've switched to some program where we power-walk while pumping weights in the air. We look like big dorks.)
The race I ran yesterday was the Strides of March Carrot Run, benefiting the Nutrition Council of Greater Cincinnati. It's a small run - especially if, like my mom, the only run you've ever done is Race for the Cure. I would say there were maybe 250 people there total for the 5K walk, 5K run, and 10K run. Compare that to the 50,000 people at Race For the Cure, and it starts to sound positively puny.
But I like it. It's a nice little run to kick off the season, and the Nutrition Council puts their own fun twist on it. In addition to the usual post-race recovery food (bagels, fruit), they serve delicious, healthy soups and provide the recipes for them. (Last year it was spicy lentil; this year, meatless minestrone. Yum!) They also have a person in a carrot costume wandering around at the start/finish line and a person in a banana suit at the turnaround point. It's nice being cheered on by a big piece of produce.
Plus, the T-shirt is pretty awesome:
It's funny. I don't particularly like running, I certainly don't like running long distances, and I DEFINITELY don't like cutting my evening short so I can wake up at 6:30 a.m. on a weekend morning. But I like 5Ks. I think it's because they're so festive - the atmosphere overshadows the actual running part. Already, I've nearly forgotten how I was thinking about giving up after about 200 yards - instead, I'll remember being cheered on by that giant carrot as I gasped my way over the finish line.
And maybe in a few weeks at the Heart Mini, I'll break 35 minutes.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)