Too Much Profit?

With a show of hands, who likes to make a profit? Yup, my hand is raised too. That's how most of us get paid. I wonder, however; Is there such thing as too much profit?

I read the following on cnn.com this morning:

"Exxon Mobil once again reported the largest quarterly profit in U.S. history Thursday, posting net income of $11.68 billion on revenue of $138 billion in the second quarter. That profit works out to $1,485.55 a second."

What? This just really feels wrong to me. Nearly every business has reported losses. Gas and food prices are through the roof. The economy, whether the government will admit it or not, is in a recession. But Exxon is making billions.

Meanwhile families have to choose between buying milk and eggs for the refrigerator or gas for the car. The budget doesn't quite go as far as it used to. But Exxon is making billions.

Again, I get that everyone needs to make a profit. I'm not faulting Exxon for making money. It's just I have a problem with that much money. In a three month time period.

So I ask the question again. Is there such thing as too much profit? My empty wallet thinks so.

You're Out!

This past weekend I went to see the Phillies play the Braves. What an absolutely insane game. The first 4 innings flew by. Then the game, and the fans, took a turn for the worse.

The Phillies were leading 3-0 in the top of the 5^th inning. Run after run the Braves began scoring. So much for ace Cole Hamels. That scoring led to some taunting by a few Braves fans sitting in the section next to ours. Taunting and their team losing do NOT sit well with Philly fans of any kind. A Phillies fan took it upon himself to let those Braves fans know it. Punches were nearly thrown and the CBP security and police came running in to save the day. They threw out the Phillies fan but allowed the Braves fans to stay. If the Philly fans were upset before, they were livid now. Chants of not so nice words were permeating the ballpark. Apparently the Braves fans couldn't let bygones be bygones and they started their taunting again.

Now meanwhile the game is still going on and the Braves are still scoring. It's now 6-3, the Braves having taken the lead. Security came back in and finally (after much yelling from surrounding Phillies fans) threw out those tomahawk choppers. You should have heard the cheering and roaring of the crowd when those guys were removed. The only problem, the cheers came at exactly the same time as one of the Braves hit a 3-run homer. If you were elsewhere in the ballpark or certainly a player on the field you would have thought there were a lot of Braves fans in attendance. Not good timing.

In total the Braves scored 9 runs that inning. That's a deficit not easily overcome. But don't count the Phillies out; just ask last year's Mets team. The very next inning the Phils scored 7 runs and managed to hold on. The final – 10-9 Phillies. That sold out crowd went ballistic when Chase Utley threw out the last batter.

Twists, turns, fights, near punches, taunts, highs, lows; it was like an episode of the Soprano's, minus the guns and the cannoli. I loved it. Batter up!

Is This Normal?

I went for a run this past weekend. Since it was the weekend I went several hours later than 5am. I was not getting up that early on a weekend. It's a lot sunnier and warmer a few hours later than 5am. That makes the run a bit harder. Well, at least for me it did. I came away from that run with one thought going through my mind – I hate running.

I hated it this weekend. I got no joy out of it at all. I kept wondering why am I doing this. I kept thinking I get up at 5am for this.

Runners, is that normal? Are there days when you absolutely hate running?

I just hope I can put this in the 'this too shall pass' category.

I set my alarm for 5am this morning and my alarm went off along with some pretty serious lightning and thunder. So I did what anyone else would have done. I rolled right over. Heck if I was getting up to run in lightning and thunder. You've got to be kidding me. I like to curl up in a ball during thunderstorms not be out in them.

Truth be told, I was actually sad about it. I've gotten into a semi-routine and I'm really trying to stick with it. Good thing tomorrow is another day.

things that make you go....huh?

I was driving home from work tonight and I saw this woman pushing one of those jogging strollers. You know, the ones with the three wheels. She had her workout clothes on; her earbuds in. She was either ready to go or ready to go home. I looked over and there was absolutely nothing in the stroller. No baby, no kid, no water bottle even. Not sure what possesses someone to go for a walk or jog pushing a stroller with no one and nothing in it. Not sure what that was all about.

Thou Shall Not Walk

I am about to enter week 7 of my 9 week running program. (I would be in week 8 if it weren't for my falling off the wagon that one week.) This whole program has been a combination of walking and running for various lengths of time. This morning I entered into the world of all running and no walking (except for the brief warm-up walk at the beginning).

This morning I was tasked with running for 25 minutes with no waking. 25 minutes. Do you know long 25 minutes is? That's 1,500 seconds. That's longer than a 30 minute sitcom on TiVo when you skip through the commercials. It's a long time.

I'm so glad for my ipod. At one point Eye of the Tiger came on and I channeled my inner Rocky for a few minutes. Another point a dance song came on and I was suddenly dancing on Dancing with the Stars. Hey, you gotta pass the time somehow.

I kept telling myself I could walk if I needed to. I figured it's a mind game anyway so if I told myself I could then I probably wouldn't want to. I played the 'just run to that corner and then you can walk' game once or twice. I never did walk. I ran the whole way. I felt invigorated; sweaty and really gross but invigorated.

I need to figure out my breathing. Anyone have any tips about that?

In the meantime, from here on out, I'll take it one stride, one song at a time. It's a good thing because walking is no longer an option.

Amazing Grace

I recently watched the movie titled Amazing Grace. It's a film based on the true story of a man, William Wilberforce, who sets out to end the British transatlantic slave trade during the 1800s. Sounds like it could be a bore. This film is anything but. This is a great movie, a powerful movie. The dialogue is thought provoking. The storyline is challenging. You should rent it, watch it On Demand, get it at your library; just watch it.

When the movie is over, don't be quick to turn off the DVD or walk away from the TV. The version of Amazing Grace that bellows from your speakers in between the credits is so…well…amazing that you won't want to miss it.

God sometimes does His work with gentle drizzle, not storms. Drip. Drip. Drip.

Boot Scootin'

This past weekend it was girls night out for some country line dancing. The husbands were left at home (that was easy for me) and we headed over to Jersey to Prospectors. Now, yes, on the surface it does seem like an oxymoron to say Jersey and country in the same sentence. But this place was not hurting for business. And no, they didn't play club music in between sets of country. It was straight up country all night. Yee haw!

Now I don't know if it's due to the wedding ring on each of my friends or what but no young cowboys (urban or otherwise) asked any of us to dance. The only ones who did were these old men. No, not the sleazy old bar hopping going through a mid-life crisis need to dance with younger women type of old men but old men nevertheless. I was boot scootin' around with this guy but I was missing by boogey. Dancing with an old man can do that to ya!

That is, until they finally played a line dance that I knew. Once that Tush Push came on my inner country cowgirl came out and I got my boogey back. I lost it again after that song was over but whatever; I relished it while I had it.

We did dance other line dances but it's not the same when you are trying not to run the person over next to you or step on someone's toes as you are trying to learn a dance. We tried to spot the people in the crowd who knew what they were doing and follow them. At times it worked and at times, let's just say not so much.

Although I didn't meet a cowboy (or any guy for that matter) we did have a fun girls night out. We got to party 'til the cows c[a]me home, boot scootin' all the way.

That Girl

Some friends and I went out to dinner this past weekend. The waiter took our order. For me - Cobb Salad, dressing on the side please. No crazy ordering a la Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally. Just a salad. Our five entrees came out and a salad was placed in front of me. The dressing was so not on the side. I didn't want to be that girl; you know, the one who sends back her salad because the dressing wasn't on the side. So I started to eat it. I was hungry. Several bites in I started thinking. I know I wouldn't order a salad with crispy chicken. Where's the avocado? Or hard boiled egg? Or cheese? Okay, this is not my salad. So, after being convinced by everyone to get the right salad, I became that girl; the one who sends back her salad because it's the wrong one.

Ever see the movie Waiting? Yeah, me neither. People at the table were telling stories about this movie. Apparently wait staff spit in people's food (and a whole lot worse). Oh but don't worry, that won't happen here. Nice try for assurance guys.

The waiter brought me the right salad and after taking a quick glance around the plate for any 'extras', I ate the grilled chicken, avocado, cheese, hard boiled egg etc with a smile.

A little while later the manager came over and told us that my salad was on the house. After another reference to Waiting in his presence, he assured me that no one spit in my food. They don't do that kind of thing there. That's what they all say.

So, I then became that girl; the one who only has to pay for her drink because someone else screwed up her order. Now I like that girl. I really don't mind someone else picking up the dinner tab.

Today Makes Two

I did it again. That's twice now. I'm on a roll; albeit a small one. I heard the blaring at 5am again this morning. I resisted tossing the thing across the room and just got up. I got ready, with next to no grumbling, and headed out the door. Although the air was still wet (hey, it's July on the east coast; humidity happens) it was cooler out this morning than last time. Dare I say, I kind of like my run this morning. I think I'll stop there before I say something else that I might later regret or have to be held accountable to.

**On a side note, I think I just came up with a new t-shirt slogan: Humidity Happens. I'll wear that sucker on days in the summer when my bad hair day can easily be blamed on the humidity. It'll be my way of saying - yes I know my hair is so huge that I can barely fit in the doorway or the frizz is so bad it looks like a halo around my head with this ponytail. Hey, humidity happens. Come to think of it, I should get a couple, in different colors. And wash them often for I'll be wearing them often. Again, it's July on the east coast.

Gas War Update

Today on my way home from work I noticed that both gas stations have regular gas for $4.11 a gallon. Do I hear $4.09? This is a war I can get behind.

Local Gas War

There is an intersection near my apartment that has a gas station on three out of the four corners. No joke. One of those stations has recently re-opened after being closed for a short time. On my way to work I noticed that one gas station had regular gas for $4.17 a gallon. The newly re-opened station was selling it for $4.13 a gallon. I couldn't help but think that even though there was only a 4 cent difference the one selling cheaper gas would certainly gain more business. I'd have lower prices too, especially if I am competing for gas patrons on an already saturated corner.



On my way home from work the station with the $4.17 per gallon gas had lowered it's price to $4.13. I guess the competition proved too steep. Here's hoping the originally lower station will lower their prices again. I am not counting on it happening but I would defenitely be happy if they did.

Never Say Never

Not too long ago I said there was no way I would get up at 5am to go for a run. Nope, never gonna happen. Well, I should know by now to never say never.

The obnoxious beeping woke me at 5 am. After toying with the idea of throwing the alarm clock across the room I hit the off button and got up. I knew if I laid there I'd be right back to sleep quicker than you can say what the heck are you doing. I peeked through the mini blinds in my room and saw that it was dark. And wet. I came this close to climbing back in bed but I knew I'd never really fall back asleep at that point. I got ready, grumbling at times, grabbed my ipod, chugged some water and was out the door.

It's really humid here right now. The kind of humid that makes you wave your hands in front of your face thinking you can move some of the air in order to see more clearly. Good times.

Once I got into the run, though, it was okay. It was actually kind of serene since the typical sounds of the day were not yet there. It was also kind of peaceful watching the day arrive and the sun begin to rise.

Truth? Getting up at 5 am wasn't all that bad. Now I'm not saying I'm going to get up at 5 am every time I go for a run. But, never say never. I just might do it again.

Grow basil, grow!

I have a little herb garden on my patio. Growing outside my apartment is a pot of basil and a pot with a mix of flat leaf parsley and rosemary. No sage. Or Thyme. Sorry Simon and Garfunkel.

My basil had been growing out of control. It was time for a trim. I hacked at it (a.k.a. snipped nicely with kitchen scissors) and cut enough to make a pesto sauce. My very first pesto sauce ever. I do have to say, I make a mean pesto.

A little pesto sauce; a little whole wheat penne; a little warm bread. Molto bene! [if only hand gestures like kissing your fingertips like an Italian could come across on a blog]

Molto bene indeed!