Tuesday, June 22, 2010

About that running thing.

A few weeks before my spring semester ended, I started running. By "running," I mean a light jog, usually lasting 30 minutes. I was so terribly out of shape, the first "run" nearly killed me. Luckily (?) I had my boyfriend there to push me, something I apparently can't do on my own.

I had to stop the week leading up to finals week because of the crap-ton of things I had going on, and when I got home for summer I immediately started a CNA course. Getting up at four in the morning really didn't inspire a lot of extra energy, so I promised myself I'd restart my exercise regimen once I finished my class. My last day was June 7th. I have run three times in those two weeks.


Fortunately, I found a good way to force myself to run the full half hour, rather than wimping out at 25 and calling it good. I have to run on the treadmill, where if I stop, I die. (Okay, that's a little dramatic, but I have to trick myself into doing these things.)

What's really awful is that I know if I can get into the habit of doing it again, it won't hurt as much. But every time I go easy on myself, I ensure it will hurt just as much tomorrow.

Plus, the treadmill is in the house, so I don't have to wear more than shorts and a sports bra, which is definitely a plus.

We'll see if I can get going again. Maybe I should start rewarding myself with stickers...

Thursday, June 17, 2010

I certainly still live at home.

There's nothing like a good chastising to remind one that they still live in their mother's house. All mothers have certain pet peeves and it drives them INSANE when their children do them (or don't, in this case.) For my mom, it's dishes. She cannot stand the sight of dishes piling up in the sink. Perhaps it's part of my personality, or maybe I'm just lazy in this regard, but often, I really do not see the dishes. It's not even that it doesn't occur to me that the dishes should be done, I really don't see them sitting dirty in the sink.

Today was just such a day. Mom came home, dishes weren't done, she got pissed. Did she yell at us? No. Ground us, spank us? No and no. My mother took my cell phone away for 24 hours.

It's not that I desperately miss it (in fact I'd be much more upset if she'd taken away my book.) Granted, I do like saying goodnight to my long distance boyfriend each night, but I can stand a night without it. What really got to me was how juvenile it felt. I'm 20 years old, and mommy took away my toys. It's days like this I think I really need to move into my own place.

On a completely unrelated note, I PROMISE I'm going to pick up running again tomorrow, no matter how much it hurts.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

The story behind my name.

It's not actually Kayla, you know. See, MY name is Allison, but I hated it, so I passed it on to my sister, and I took Kayla. Don't believe me?

Ok, fine, I meant my blog name, Coffee Berry Red. You saw the brief explanation of "If I were a crayon..," but I didn't just pull that out of a box.

Coffee is a brewed drink prepaed from roasted seeds, commonly called coffee beans, of the coffee plant. They are seeds of coffee cherries that grow on trees in over 70 countries. Coffee berries, which contain the coffee seed, or "bean," are produces by several species of small evergreen bush of the genus Coffea. Everyone likes a little knowledge thrown at them via blogs, right?

So my addiction to coffee, the fact that I am red (Ginger!), and a little insight from my good friend Chelsea, resulted in my name. Thus the blog of Coffee Berry Red came to be. (And of course, there was coffee in hand.)

Blog Post # 1.

One of the biggest reasons I've never started a blog (12-year-old LiveJournal accounts don't count.) is I've dreaded the first post. I'm afraid it has to sum up my life to this point, like it's a fifth book in a series where the books are just now getting public notice. So the author has to include this bit at the beginning of the book that surmises the last four books. Oh, the pressure!

Well I, for one, refuse. Mostly because I really just don't want to. If you have questions, you cant ask.

However, I will include a few bits of information that will likely (or definitely) come up in later posts.
#1. My boyfriend. His name is Mike, and yes, it's serious. We met at school.
#2. I just finished a CNA class, so I'm looking for a job in a nursing home, hospital, or the like.
#3. My sister is HUGE. Not in a wide way, just in a she's-five-foot-nine-and-only-fourteen-years-old way. It's ridiculous.

Well that about does it.

The end.