Random Factuals of the Moment

- My company's new health plan had an incentive to register for a free pedometer to upload your daily steps, eventually leading them to give you a discount on your plan. Or something. I didn't care because I was blinded by the new pedometer...it's so beautiful. I've worn it every day since...even though it's pretty bulky on my waistband. I love the challenge. Today's count? Over 13,000.

- When we say goodnight to the babies each evening, J insists that Mary needs to hear her name both first and last. As in, I'll say, "Goodnight, Mary. Goodnight, Leo." And J will add, "Goodnight Mary." He says it comforts her. We end up giggling about it every single night.

- I had a work lunch today with a very interesting group of gentlemen, including a foreign liaison officer from Singapore. He was very, very smart and nice. I got to spin class tonight and lo and behold, there he was, on the bike next to me. I wonder how long we've been sitting next to one another without knowing it. He's better at jumps than I am.

- I've finally started reading "A Thousand Splendid Suns." It may be the best book I've read in years. I love it and don't want it to end. If anyone can recommend a book to help ease the pain, please share.

- When we were designing our wedding website, music was a huge decision. We needed one more song to add, and I wanted, "Heard it in a Love Song" by the Marshall Tucker Band. Yes I know it's actually anything BUT a love song, but it was also the first song on the radio when we got back in car after the hike when J proposed. :) Followed immediately by "Power of Love" by the one and only Celine Dion. Both songs now have a very special place in my heart. PS, he'll deny it now, but on that euphoric drive home, we both belted out that Celine song. 'Cuz I'm your laaaaaaaaaadyy......and you are my maaaaaaaaaaannnn.....

- I was heartbroken yesterday at some very, very upsetting work news and spent my evening in a seriously sad funk. Today I came home to a clean house full of good smells and a "German feast!" that J had prepared...and there was no more funk to be found.

- My friend was just certified to be a yoga instructor after a 15-day session in Arizona. She's a vegan now. With crazy-toned arms. So when she offered freebie classes to her gals this month I jumped at the opportunity. It was my first ever instructor-led yoga class and I loved it (yes I realize I'm 10 years late jumping on this bandwagon). I'm still sore from Tuesday night's class. Yay for making it into crow pose!

- I can't stop listening to "Cold December" by Matt Costa. It's been one of my highest play counts in iTunes for a few years now, but I've recently found myself on another kick.

- I'm going to Berkley's second birthday party next weekend. Cannot believe our wee baby niece is turning two...I remember meeting her when she was just a mere 8 days old. She's not really turning two though, since she was born on Leap Day, after all.

- My favorite water bottle broke yesterday at the gym. I mean, it really broke. I went to take a sip and it squirted ALLLL over the guy on the elliptical next to me. There was an awkward moment where we both just kind of slowed down, glanced at each other, and then went back to working out. On the hunt for its replacement, I could not find a perfect water bottle. I have two of the metal ones, yeah yeah, I'm over that trend**. As far as I'm concerned, they always make my water taste awful, I don't like the smell, and they're not easy to open when you're in motion. I think I could make a cool million designing a sturdy liter-sized BPA-free plastic bottle with a easy to open squeeze-y cap.

**No offense to those of you who enjoy the metal water bottles.

Total Panic in Level Four

One of my favorite authors is Richard Preston. My senior year of college I had to take a science class and I opted for Medical Geography. Its exotic title fit in well with some of my other college courses like floral arranging (1 and 2), pistol and rifle marksmanship, Alfred Hitchcock films, and Italian Cuisine. Before you judge or accuse me from graduating from Bob's Clown College, I happened to take enough AP classes in high school that I needed hours, not the actual credits. Medical Geography happened to be one of my most favorite class of all. The way we learned about how people working in this field track viruses to their original source...it left me dumbfounded. There I was, mere months before graduation wondering if I should drop my journalism major and become a virus hunter in Africa. Spending my summers in khaki shorts and rugged work boots with my hair in a knotty bun, winters in level four biohazard space suit probing the next likely source of Ebola. We read The Hot Zone and I was pretty much sure I was graduating into the wrong career field. I was born to work at the CDC. Right? I purchased every biology-related book Preston's written and I've pored over them multiple times. When I found out that he had a new book coming out I couldn't wait to buy it and my recent plane ride seemed the perfect occasion to indulge my inner unfulfilled virus hunter.

Well, I guess I can say now that I'm glad I didn't up and quit on journalism. Not that I'm using my major so much now -- however, I did find it necessary to point out a coworker's faux pas as he once again mispronounced nuclear as "nuc-u-lar" -- but I found out this past weekend that I made the right choice. Not only is Richard Preston an amazing writer, particularly amazing when he writes about biological terrorism (my not-so-secret guilty pleasure), but he is also quite graphic. While reading the much-anticipated "Panic in Level Four" (a collection of short non-fiction stories, seriously, it's amazing), I realized I'm firmly where I need to be...behind a computer monitor dilly-dallying about with bezier curves and clipping paths.

The last story is about a disease which causes its victims to self-cannibalize. At first my inner nerd said, "Stacy, this is a chance to learn about a strange new subject, keep going, and read with an open mind." All the while my inner girl voice is saying, "Stacy, proceed with caution, this will get gross." And I was right. Sooo right. I read. I read some more. I was fine. UNTIL--I read a line that said something to the effect of sometimes this disease causes its victims to remove their own eyeball--and I don't know what it said after that, because I gagged. Firmly shut the book. Put the book in my carry-on bag. And haven't touched it since. Honestly, I'm a little scared to put it on my shelf where it might infect a neighboring Augusten Burroughs book with it's awful eyeball horror.

Sorry, CDC. I totally feel like I let you down.