On Tap for Today

A fun loving, inspired living blog


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Today: …is a new day.

[tweetmeme source=”elizabethev” only_single=false]I was right.  That rat was a bad omen.  I left my office right on time last night, excited to be meeting Sarah and Bridget for a workout, when my little car failed to start.  The tow truck driver dispatched by AAA was a huge help, but sadly, the car had to be towed to a mechanic.  I am still not sure what’s wrong with it.  Our how many arms and legs it will cost to repair the thing.

[Image source]

I missed meeting up with the girls, but I was able to get a ride to my soccer game.  Once we got to the field, I realized I only had one cleat (seriously, that rat was a warning from the universe).  It really was one of those days.  By some miracle, a teammate had an extra pair (!?) in just the right size.  Being at the mercy of other people– whether it’s a T driver or a helpful stranger with the same sized foot– is not somewhere I like to be.  But I suppose I can’t be in control all of the time.  As much as this pains me.

Today is a new day.  What will be with the car, will be.  I have two shoes on.  And they’re both mine.  So that’s an improvement.

While I attempt to look on the bright side, I’ve got two posts that I wrote for the Healthy Living Summit which might be of interest if you’re attending HLS, or simply breezing into town for fun this summer.  Click through if you’d like to read more, and if you’re a local, please feel free to leave your best tips and ideas in the comments section of either post.

Looking for things to do in Boston and Cambridge?

Wondering how to get around once you get here?

Also On Tap for Today:

  • Double unders at CrossFit 🙂
  • Tic Tac spice storage
  • Good luck on Day 2 of the bar exam, lovely sister!

Do you have a lucky charm?  …can I have it? (Just kidding.)


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Today: 21 hours.

[tweetmeme source=”elizabethev” only_single=false]Monday was a long day.  I was awake (and mostly functioning) for 21 hours straight.  When you’re up and about for that long, you’re bound to see some shi things.

4:00 AM Nick was planning to take an early class at CrossFit Southie, so when I woke up for no reason, just an hour before his alarm would go off, I knew my chances of falling back to sleep were slim.

5:45 AM When my alarm went off as Nick was heading out the door, I wrangled the Frenchie and took him on an extra long walk through the neighborhood.  We saw not one, but two dead pigeons.  That seems to be happening a lot lately.  It’s a bit concerning.

7:40 AM I was off to work in record time, and about to turn the corner to my office, when the biggest rat I have ever seen came sprinting towards me.  It was as big as, like, my dog.  Or Splinter from TMNT.

The last time I was that close to a rat (this is gross, but I am going to tell you any way), it had been run over and flattened next to my car.  It was winter time, and the puddle that the flat rat came to rest in eventually froze over.  It was there for weeks.  I had to find a new parking spot.  When the ice thawed, and my overwhelming fear of that dead rat waned, I went back to my normal parking habits.  Little did I know, the dead rat was still there.  One evening, after I had locked up the office, a strong gust of wind lifted the rat and hurled it straight at me.  I think I blacked out, because I don’t really remember what happened after that.

Anyway, Monday’s rat was very much alive and, fortunately, never made contact with my body.  I couldn’t help, however, but to enter a spiral of irrational fears.  What if the rat came back while I was out grabbing the newspaper (I am an old man) at lunch?  Maybe it would catch me by surprise, and bite my ankle, and then I’d have to miss my soccer game.  And probably, I would get rabies.  Or something.  Once I start worrying, and my imagination takes over, it’s hard to stop.

8:00 AM – 5:30 PM Fortunately, my workday was productive and largely uneventful.  Mostly because I skipped my lunchtime walk and stayed firmly indoors.  Two dead pigeons and giant rat?  I was not taking any chances.

5:45 PM I got home just in time to give Clark’s talons a quick trim, his coat a quick brushing, and his ears a quick cleaning.  The little dude has to look his best when he’s making his therapy dog rounds.

We spend an hour and a half visiting some great kids at a local hospital.  I don’t think either of us wanted to leave when our time was up.  It’s so incredibly moving to see children– up against so much– delight in rubbing Clark’s ears and crouching down on the floor to kiss his wrinkly face.  They were curious about his missing tail (perhaps he is, too), whether or not he could fight a lion (I suspect not), and what he keeps in the pouch on his therapy dog vest (treats, obviously).  Clark was in his glory.  I likely would have only been awake for 20 hours, but I had to stay up an extra hour to tell Nick all about it.  I can’t wait for our next visit.

7:30 PM I contemplated taking a nap before my soccer game, but instead I watched half an episode of Real Housewives of New Jersey.  Why do they wear so much under brow highlighter?  Puzzling.

8:45 PM I was about to head out the door for soccer, when I received a very important FaceTime call.  From my three week old niece.  When an infant calls, you answer.

11:30 PM Though we lost our playoff game, we had a great 11 v. 11 season.  It was nice to play on a big field again.  I won’t miss being out so far past my bedtime, however.  I had to employ my very best “stay alert and awake” tactics for the ride home (Call Me Maybe at full volume, a handful of Haribo gummy bears, and the AC cranked as high as it would go).

When I finally made it back to my warm bed, I felt like I had been awake for 400 hours.  In truth, it had only been 21.  And that was plenty.

Also On Tap for Today:

Which critter are you most afraid of?  Snakes?  Spiders?  Teresa from RHONJ?


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Today: The good, the bad, and the sparkly.

[tweetmeme source=”elizabethev” only_single=false]Let’s start with the bad.  And end with the sparkly.

After days spent looped out on cold medicine (due to illness, not recreational use… obvi), I am finally feeling back to (mostly) normal.  The fact that my monster cold came to town during two of the busiest weeks of my professional life was unhelpful, to say the least.  I find that getting all dolled up, giving speeches, kicking ass and taking names, and fundraising are most effectively done without a man voice (unless you’re a man), without a fever, and without an endlessly running rose.  With all that behind me, I free to spend an entire Friday evening doing nothing except talking to my dog in made up accents, listening to Duffy and reading magazines.  Oh, and eating.

Despite being under the weather and working 12 hour days, I’ve managed to fit in a few good things this week.  My Monday night soccer team is blazing a path to glory (or whatever), heading into next week’s championship round.  During this week’s game, I didn’t score a single goal (which is better than scoring one goal on your own net… which has happened before… twice), but I was a veritable fortress on defense.  At the risk of being a sexist piglet, I can’t help but squeal with delight when I shut down burly, athletic men as they dribble towards the net with the ball.  Especially when they look surprised.  Even more so when they look angry.

After getting a bit too caught up in the competitive spirit last season, my goal for this season (besides getting goals) was to not swear on the field.  Or succumb to some sort of rage blackout like I did that time someone slide-tackled Nick and nearly ripped off his leg.  So far, so good.  With two games to go, I have been all manners and grace this season.  (While I apologize for sounding like a complete egomaniac at the moment, rest assured that my ego was placed firmly in check earlier this week, as I bounded out of the yoga studio all high on my back bending abilities and promptly fell down a flight of stairs.  Truly, it has been that kind of a week.)

My Thursday night soccer team has also been a source of goodness.  I arrived late to last night’s game, having come directly from my work event, changed from a cocktail dress into my sweet uniform in the car and flew onto the field with a full face of makeup.  Nothing says, “I’m here to play” quite like a winged eye, Nars’ pinkest shade of blush, and some subtly simmering lids.  While I probably should have gone to bed instead, burning off a bit of stress and laughing with my teammates was the perfect way to wind down a crazy day.  I am really thankful for the opportunity to play with such a fun, supportive, goofy group.

When I finally made it home, my brain would not turn off.  I have it on good authority that turning the TV on does not help you wind down.  I can’t help but ignore the research when my DVR has one of my favorite shows of all time ready and waiting, though.

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I can barely make it through the first minute of an episode of An Idiot Abroad without dissolving into a fit of laughter.  I used to listen to The Ricky Gervais Show podcast in the car but got to the point these same laughing fits became an impairment to my driving.  While watching television in the wee hours of the morning is decidedly bad for you, laughter is most certainly good.

Now all that’s left to do is sparkle.

The lovely people at Sparkly Soul recently sent me two of their truly sparkly headbands, and they’ve got a pair tucked away for you, too.  I recently got a shorter and sweeter hairdo (so short and sweet that it barely fits into a ponystub, let alone a ponytail), complete with un-requested side swept bangs.  The haircut is a story for another day, but needless to say, these headbands could not have arrived at a better time.

[Image source]

Not only do Sparkly Soul headbands look adorable, they don’t budge.  Not during yoga inversions, not during flying leaps across the soccer field, not during runs, not turn the most rough and tumble boxing workout and (as I learned last weekend) not during naps or entire days spent in bed.  The soft velvet lining means no headaches, no snarls, and no hair dents.  If you’ve never experienced a hair dent, don’t ask questions.  Just consider yourself one of the few and fortunate.  Given my choice of colors, I opted for silver (to match my engagement ring… just kidding… kind of) and red for an upcoming Valentine’s Day race.  I am tempted to order the rest of the rainbow.  They’re that good.  Let the record reflect that I have no cold medicine to blame for my enthusiasm, just a really great product.

Would you like a Sparkly Soul headband or two for yourself?  The generous people at Sparkly Soul is offering one of their wide headbands and one of their thin headbands (in colors of your choosing) to one lucky reader. Headband Head on over to sparklysoul.com to check out their offerings and leave a comment below with your favorite color(s).  I will announce a winner at the end of the day on Wednesday, February 1st.  Yes, it’s February next week. 

If you’d like to learn more about Sparkly Soul, I recommend connecting with them on Twitter or Facebook.  They also have some pretty great Pinterest boards.  Disclaimer: I received two Sparkly Soul headbands free of charge, but was not compensated for my glowing review, nor for hosting this giveaway.  My opinions are all my own.  Preach it.

Also On Tap for Today:

  • Getting excited for Be Healthy Boston 🙂
  • Drinking lots of tea
  • Visting with my parents!  Woooo!

Pick a color.  Any color.  Where do you plan to sparkle this weekend?


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Today: Do as I say, not as I do.

[tweetmeme source=”elizabethev” only_single=false]Please file this post under,

Do as I say, not as I do.

Here’s what I say:

  • If you get drilled so hard in the face by a soccer ball that your contact lens falls out, and an hour later, you can’t remember the word for post office, you should go to the doctor.
  • If you decided to get back out on the field (this is the game that decides whether or not you go to the championship bracket, after all), but you feel a little weird and have trouble seeing out of the eye that didn’t lose a contact, you should go to the doctor.
  • If you get home, and all you want to do is eat mint chocolate chip ice cream, but you’re having trouble doing so because you’ve lost feeling in one of your arms, you should go to the doctor.
  • If you worry that you might have a concussion, and remember learning in health class that you shouldn’t take an unsupervised 7 hour nap with a concussion, you shouldn’t take an unsupervised 7 hour nap.  You should go to the doctor.
  • If you call your younger brother (who has had several confirmed concussions) to describe your symptoms and he tells you, “As long as you didn’t throw up, you’re okay.  Just take it easy,”  remember this:  he is not a doctor.  You should take it easy, and you should also go to the doctor.
  • If light finally dawns on Marblehead, and you call your doctor’s office, describe the scenario and symptoms, and the nurse asks, “Have you’ve eaten anything strange, like shellfish perhaps?” you should get a new doctor.

One more thing: you should skip boxing tonight.  You really should.  And if you don’t, your family, friends and loved ones should freely slap you in public if you ever… ever… complain about possibly having a concussion again.

We clear, people?  Good.  I need to go find my boxing gloves.  And a bunch of under-eye concealer.

Also On Tap for Today:

  • Clark is Dog of the Month for April (he’s the man!)
  • Maybe if I told the doctor I forgot to wear earrings today (naked ears!) she would have known this is might be serious
  • Summer fun in Boston for $25 or less

Do you practice what you preach?


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Today: Take Your Germs to Work Day.

[tweetmeme source=”elizabethev” only_single=false]

To quote the genius that is Lil Wayne, “M***** f*****, I’m illllllllll.”

The remnants of this cold have been hanging out in my body for nearly two weeks.  Just when I think, Hallelujah!  I’m cured! my nose starts running and people start looking at me like, Gew!  Why does she not have a SARS mask on?

Though I’d like to be curled up in bed all day, drinking ginger ale and watching early episodes of Family Matters, I need to bring home the Imitation Bacon Bits (they’re vegetarian!).   In the interest of keeping my germs to myself, I am washing my hands more often than a vet tech, spraying Lysol on my phone and desk and door nob at fifteen minute intervals, keeping the office well ventilated, and refraining from breathing.  So far, so good… for everyone else.

Oops, did I give you that cold?

[Photo source]

Something tells me if I did stay in bed, tuning into some good ol’ fashioned Urkel/Stefan dramedy for even a half-day, I’d be healthy by now.  Unfortunately, that’s just not in the proverbial cards right now.  Too much excitement.  Too much work.  Too much apple picking with my dog.

Also On Tap for Today:

What was your favorite T.G.I.F. show?


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Today: Catch the competitive spirit.

[tweetmeme source=”elizabethev” only_single=false]

I never considered myself particularly competitive.  Sure, I’ve cheated at the occasional game of Slap (the card game, not the physical act of violence) and Scrabble with the intention of racking up a few more points, but I’ve never terribly minded losing.  In a family of mental geniuses and accomplished athletes,  I proudly carry the torch for the math-challenged junior varsity team of people under 5’4″.  It’s a small team, in number and in stature.  I will happily compete with myself, delighting in new running or cheese doodle-eating records.  When other people enter the fray, however, I am not quite so eager to engage.

There are a few things I do rather well, like cutting things out of paper, not sleeping, reading French newspapers and literature (in French– that’s sort of the distinguishing factor), and listening to people’s problems.  The thing is, it’s nearly impossible to be competitive in any of these areas, since no one else seems interested in competing.  On the rare occasion that I do find myself going tête à tête, I pull the greatest non-competitive competitor move of all time: I bow out.  It’s sort of like agreeing to disagree.  Trust me.  Nothing frustrates a competitive person more than winning by forfeit.

I don’t like the idea that someone has to lose in order for someone else to win.

Welp.  That all changed on Wednesday evening, at approximately 6:45 PM, Eastern Time, as I charged down (or up?  I am not sure which way was North) the soccer field like a bat out of hell.  Elizabeast was in full force.  I wanted to get a goal, and I wanted to get a goal badly.  After repeated shots on net, and one off the goal post, and still no goal… I realized it was time to sub out and let my teammates on the sidelines get some playing time in.  So, I did what any bad person would do, and avoided making eye contact.  Mission Stay on the Field: Successful.  Mission Get a Goal: Not as Successful.

Next game, I am wearing a helmet. And a pink corsage.

I did not get my much desired ball-in-net.  I did, however, get slapped (this time, the physical– although completely unintentional– act of violence, not the card game) in the face.  It was, well,  different and unexpected.  I was being guarded by a rather tall and muscular man who, during an attempt to beat me to the ball, flew through the air with flailing arms, managing to backhand me clear across the mouth.  I fell over, mostly in disbelief, and slightly in pain.  I totally got served.  Just as I pulled myself together and stole the ball back, I was called off the field for a long-overdue substitution.

When the ref tooted the final whistle, I wanted more: more time on the clock, more chances to score, more sprinting to the ball like a woman possessed.  But less getting slapped.  I think I’ve caught the competitive spirit.  And like this cold I’ve been battling for over a week, it doesn’t seem to be going anywhere.

Also On Tap for Today:

  • Run 9 miles (I sort of wish I was kidding)
  • Boston Local Food Festival 🙂
  • Reading, lazing, sleeping, and hydrating
  • GO BC! BEAT NOTRE LAME!

Do you consider yourself competitive?  What’s your favorite type of challenge?  Have you ever been in duel?