the semi-reformed nerd

{life} and then I lost my engagement ring solitaire

You know that crazy fear of losing the solitaire in your engagement ring?

It's not so crazy after all.

Last week, I was innocently at happy hour with some co-workers. Easy enough, right? An hour or two passes and, like I always do, I start fiddling around with my ring.

Except, this time... well, my finger went through the setting... there was no diamond there... I went pale... I nearly vomited, passed out and punched something all at the same time... and eight or nine people all hit the ground in search of my stone.

And if you can believe it (because I still can't), we found it. On the ground. In a dark bar.

I've never felt so lucky in my life. It was the longest three or four minutes in the history of ever. Absolute insanity.

And I'm happy to report that my ring has since been fixed and it looks good as new. Whew.

So, the moral of the story?

Make sure you check your rings and have them inspected regularly.
The feeling of vomit/blackout/violent rage isn't pretty. I don't recommend it.
I've probably cashed in all my luck cards with this one.
Thank goodness for a total stranger finding my diamond and giving it to me. You know what I mean?

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This time last year:

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{life} and then I barely survived a kickboxing class

Over the last year, I've repeatedly driven by a couple of Title Boxing Clubs that have popped up around Dallas. Each and every time, I think to myself, "Self, you should get thee to kickboxing."

... and so, after a year of excuses, second guessing and even a little bit of whining, I talked a friend into going with me to try it out over the weekend.

Needless to say, I barely survived. It turns out that I suck at kickboxing.

A one-hour kickboxing class complete with boxing gloves and punching bag. And a whole lot of out-of-shape Julie. If ever I needed a rude awakening to the fact that I'm not even close to being in the shape I was in three years ago... well, consider me wide awake. Yikes.

Between the burpees, medicine ball crunches and planks, I'm honestly surprised I can even move. Yesterday... I was 5 percent mobile. Maybe. That may be overestimating it a bit. It was bad.

All that said, I'm fully aware of the task ahead of me now. I have a lot of ground to make up in the quest to find my inner athlete. Again. I'm frustrated... but motivated. And dedicated. And all the other stuff that makes people succeed.

PS: I'm not going back to kickboxing for awhile. Getting to see my breakfast come back to say 'hi!' not once but twice in one workout was plenty for me. Thankyouverymuch.

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This time last year:

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{life} worst. food blogger. ever.

Remember that time I used to blog about food on a (semi) regular basis?

Yeah. Me too.

Truth be told, I've been in a food rut lately. I walk into the kitchen and... nothing. Nada. No motivation whatsoever.

I could probably live on takeout if it wouldn't make me gain a gazillion pounds.

And don't even get me started on grocery shopping. It used to be one of the highlights of my week. You have your retail therapy... I have my food shopping therapy.

But lately? I just don't wanna. Bleh.

I'm sure it's just a phase. I hate it. But it is what it is. Hopefully it'll subside sooner rather than later.

How do you break a rut? Any tips?

The sooner I get out of this rut, the sooner I start blogging some recipes again. Just sayin'... you know, if you need some incentive or something. <wink wink>