I have over 2800 songs in my iTunes library...not all of them are on my iPhone (iPod), but most of them are.
I like music...
I have all kinds of music:
Rock (classic mostly)
pop
alternative (mostly pop-alt)
Musicals/Broadway
movie soundtracks
a little country (but not much)
dance tracks
a few classical selections
some "old school" R&B (think Earth, Wind, & Fire)
I make a lot of playlists...I like to just start up the iPod and have a set of songs to listen to.
Ke$ha Barbie spends hours and hours making playlists and listening to music. She probably has 100 playlists.
Mine are not that extensive...
She gets her love of music from me. I got my love of music from both of my parents...but probably mostly from my father.
I started her music education early...including the whole episode I blogged about before when she thought a record album was a "big black cd".
Once she was singing a song...it was a Beyonce/Destiny's Child song...
Bootylicious
so there she is in the backseat of my suburban singing "Bootylicious" and saying how much she loves Beyonce (I do too...) and I hear the sample in the song of Stevie Nick's "Edge of 17".
She (Ke$ha Barbie) says she loves that Beyonce song...especially the "music part".
She was referring to the sample of "Edge of 17".
I literally pulled over and stopped the car.
Dug out a cd...
shoved it into the cd player
and reminded her that as great as Beyonce was...
Stevie was first.
And she did it better.
And then a few years later the Dixie Chicks sang "Landslide". I had to give her a lesson again that...
Stevie was first.
And did it better.
Ke$ha Barbie and I don't agree on all of our music...but we probably have about 30-40% of our libraries in common.
I taught her classic rock...Frampton, Eagles, Aerosmith, Led Zepplin, Fleetwood Mac.
She taught me: Muse, Julian Casablancas, Arcade Fire, Jimmy Eat World, Phoenix.
I played the Beatles for her. Took her (and The Cutest Boy in the World) to see "Beatles LOVE" at the Mirage in Las Vegas. She has almost all of Lennon/McCartney's songs on her iPod now...
We only disagree on who we like better...I'm on "Team Paul" and she is "John" all the way...
But we both agree that George Harrison was the cutest of them and the most soulful.
As to Ringo...
no real opinion there.
But he has some fun stuff too...
I always feel a little victory when I discover a song or band before her. Like today when I told her that I had already downloaded "Houdini" by Foster the People...she hadn't even heard it yet.
Yesssssssssssssss....
And I also feel a little victory when she says things like:
The Eagles really had great harmony
Steve Miller is awesome
Frampton was a guitar god
and she has enough sense to think that Justin Bieber is the lamest excuse for a pop star EVER and that the Jonas Brothers are a blemish on the music industry.
My blog
My Opinion
Of course I am a woman who shamelessly has Barry Manilow on her iPod and is happy about it.
And I have a helluva lot of disco too...not all of it "good" disco (I can hear you all saying "is there such a thing as GOOD disco?").
By "good" I mean: Bee Gees, KC & the Sunshine Band, and Donna Summer
and then you have the old school R&B stuff that was almost disco-like...Brothers Johnson (I challenge you NOT to dance when you hear "Stomp"), S.O.S. Band ("Take your Time, do it right), GAP Band, and some of the stuff that Earth, Wind and Fire did (September).
Ke$ha Barbie does not like ANY of that...but then again I hate Vampire Weekend and the Arctic Monkeys so I guess we are even.
I give music to JayVee, J'taime Jamie all the time...they indulge me and play my stuff during spin class. My latest obessions are with a mash-up of Teenage Dream (Katie Perry) and Get Outta My Way (Kylie) or the new Taio Cruz song (Higher). And JayVee always throws in some classic rock for us too...
I once said I would put some playlists on this blog...stuff to get you moving and grooving. I couldn't decide whether to go with a theme (like Disco or 80's) but settled on a good mix that hopefully most of you have on your iPod...I'll do some "theme" ones another day.
These are all good for cardio work...use the beat (rhythm)to set your pace. I won't use anything "scary" or too offbeat (so no Evanescence---although "Bring me to Life" is awesome to warm-up with---or anything too in to the alternative zone).
Warm-up:
"Genie in a Bottle" Christina Aguilera
"Speed of Sound" Coldplay
Go fast:
"September" Earth Wind & Fire
Hard Climb (high tension)
"Where You Going Now?" Damn Yankees
Interval (fast and slow):
"I'm Still Standing" Elton John
Steady pace...but quick:
"Train in Vain" Clash
"Ready to Start" Arcade Fire
Climb again:
"4 Minutes" Madonna
Interval:
"Raise your Glass" Pink
Steady but quick:
"Take it Off" or "We R who we R" Ke$ha\
"Viva la Vida" Coldplay
interval:
"Club Can't Handle Me" FloRida
"Thnks for the Mmrs" Fall Out Boy
Climb:
"Waiting for You" or "Kiss from a Rose" Seal
Quick:
"Teenage Dream" Katy Perry (try and find the Kylie mash-up)
"Panic Switch" Silversun Pickups
"Get Outta My Way" Kylie Minogue
interval:
"I just Want to Run" The Downtown Fiction
Cool Down:
"Drops of Jupiter" Train
So there are some ideas of some music for you to use whether you spin, walk, run, or do the elliptical or arc trainer.
I've got disco lists, pop-alt lists, classic rock, etc. so if you don't like what you see, send me a message and I'll find you something you like.
The main idea is to MOVE...and if you use a beat, you will move better.
Wouldn't you rather hear Train than the ladies on the View anyway? Turn off the tv and turn on your music and get moving...
Inspiration Song: "Pop Music" by M...Spinderella gave us a dose of it this morning and even though my glutes were screaming by the end of it, it was fun to spin to...
Bye Darlings...let the music play....
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Clap Your Hands
Metal clanking on metal...music to my ears!
I step on the scale...and the scale tips...I'm lighter than the setting I have...
I GOT TO MOVE THE BAR
I GOT TO MOVE THE BAR
I GOT TO MOVE THE BAR
That was the sweetest sound when the scale tipped and let me know I had to move the big bar down a 50 pound increment.
I jumped off the scale and did a little dance...
Jumped back on just to be sure...and sure enough, I was a 1/2 pound UNDER! Woo hoo!
Thank you, Fitness Goddess!
Thank you, Spinderella!
Thank you, Precor (for making the elliptical machine)!
Thank you, Fit Foods (my breakfasts, most lunches or dinners and snacks)!
Thank you, Fage yogurt (for being my sweet snack)!
and most of all,
Thank you to my friends for all of your suggestions and support!
Now the reality of the situation is that my weight is still woefully high. I'm still obese. Not a word I like, "obese", but I am...
And what I weigh is a number that would send waves of shock and horror to most of you fine people...but for me it is the first time I have seen that number in over 3 years...maybe longer. It is NOT a good number but for me it is a BETTER number.
It was a small goal of mine to get here...under a certain break point...and now I have a new goal...to move that bar again. But that is 50 more pounds and that will not happen quickly. It will take a while. And as much as I would like to wake up tomorrow and move the bar again, I know it doesn't happen overnight.
BUT I GOT TO MOVE THE BAR!
I saw Fitness Goddess today...not for a workout, but she came to check on me when I was on the elliptical. I told her my theory about my eating (that I wasn't eating enough) and she confirmed that there was no way I was going to drop some poundage on that plan, so we went over everything and she has me straight now...and fussed at me for not telling her how few calories I was consuming. Last week I told her I was frustrated that I wasn't losing but I had neglected to mention the 1200 calories a day thing...and 150 of that was wine most days...
So I am keeping really good track of it all on my "Lose It" app on my iPhone and I promised her that I would stick to 1500-1800 calories (depending on my workout) every day. And spread my eating out. 3 small meals. 2-3 snacks.
I have a test of real willpower facing me...on Friday we are stopping for lunch in San Antonio and that can only mean one of two things---Earl Ables or Mi Tierra. Most likely Mi Ti's will win since my boy will be craving some Mexican food and my husband never met an enchilada he didn't like, but it is darn hard to order chicken fajitas with corn torillas when what I really want is a good South Texas style cheese enchilada or some mole enchiladas...mmmmmm....mole....mmmmmm
this may go on record as one of the few times I went to Mi Ti's sober...or stayed sober at Mi Ti's....no margaritas for me or I might pass out on the way home...on the other hand, George WILL be driving....hmmmm....but no, too many calories...gotta keep moving the bar...
I do recall one other time that I hit Mi Ti's for lunch and didn't have a margarita and was not hung over from a Fiesta party the night before. The kids' school/church has a festival every spring...one of the most popular booths is the cascarone booth (confetti eggs if you are not from Texas). I chaired the booth with another mom and we drove to San Antonio to pick up the 800 dozen eggs (cacarones) we had ordered from some chicken farm around there. We dubbed ourselves the "cascarone queens" (and wore tiaras). So we pointed her hubby's suburban west on I-10 and left early enough for a quick trip into San Antonio to shop at the mercado and eat at Mi Ti's before heading to the chicken farm.
We got there in plenty of time only to realize it was FIESTA week in San Antonio...for those of you "in the know", you know what that means...traffic...lots of people downtown. But we found a parking spot and hit the mercado where she snagged the most awesome "Tree of Life"...I have yet to find one that I: 1) like as much and 2) can afford. Here's hoping I have better luck on Friday...
We ate at Mi Ti's (enchiladas) and considered a margarita but thought the better of it and passed and then headed to the chicken farm.
Friends, have you ever been to a chicken farm?
PEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!
What a horrible smell.
It reeked of chicken...poop...it smelled of chicken poop!
We thought we could escape the smell once we got inside the packing plant and paid for our purchases but....noooooooooooooooooooooooo...
Inside the packing plant was an aweful egg odor (smell a room temperature egg sometime and then multiply that smell by 1000). There was also that slightly sulphury-eggy smell wafting around. Eau de Egg...
I asked the woman we were dealing with how she handled it. She pointed to the candle on her desk. It wasn't working...
I suggested one of those lamps that burns oils to get rid of smells and she said she had tried everything known to man and that nothing worked (even the lamp) and that candles were cheaper. I literally was gagging the whole time (I am sensitve to smells) and was regretting the enchilada decision. It was bringing up bad memories of the time I got sick at Yellowstone Park when we were at the boiling sulpher mud pots...
I went into the bathroom...when I tell you that the bathroom was the BEST smelling room in the place, you can get an idea of how bad the Eau de Egg and chicken poop odors were!
So we had 800 dozen eggs to fit into and on top of the suburban, along with cartons for the eggs as they were packed in large flats. It took 2 men, a lot of rope and my friend and me to get it all loaded up but we did it. All the while smelling that horrible smell from the chicken coops. We gagged a lot. And regretted the enchiladas...a lot...
As we headed back to Houston we laughed about what would happen if we had a wreck on the way...there would be confetti and egg shells everywhere...
I got home and took a bath with every bath product I could find...I reeked of egg smell. Peeeeeeeeeeeeee-uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu
We stored the eggs at my house until it was time for the festival...my cats went nuts smelling the smell (I burned an oil lamp non-stop) and the loved playing on the boxes. For some insane reason we agreed to chair the booth again and did the whole adventure again except that time we decided to forego San Antonio in favor of stopping for bar-be-que in Luling on the way back...it was safer to have an empty stomach with the bad smell.
Since then the school/church has found a vendor for the eggs that brings them to us and I no longer have to man the cascarone booth as I gave it up after discovering that I couldn't drink beer and handle tickets and eggs at the same time. I was happy to relinquish the title of "Cascarone Queen" but didn't give up my tiara...in fact I wore it this year to the festival to promote the kid's spring musical ("Cinderella") but the head of the school still suspects (rightly so) that I just like an excuse to wear a sparkly crown.
Yes, I do love me some sparkles and rhinestones...and crystals...and sequins...and glitter...and I love to wear a crown...
There ends the tale of the Cascarone Queens...
So thank you all for your support...I love having you on this journey with me...and I love all the messages and emails and facebook comments and love all of you who have signed up to "follow" this blog. It means a lot...because this is my therapy and free blogging is way cheaper than paying someone listen to me ramble on...
Inspiration Music..."Clap Your Hands" by Sia!!!!!!!!!!!!! My favorite song of the moment...she is an amazing artist. Download the "radio edit"...heck, download the whole "We are Born" album as it is literally awesome start to finish. She is an incredible artist from Australia---best known for her song "Breathe Me" from a few years back---they use it a lot in commercials and tv shows and it was the finale song for the show "Six Feet Under" when Claire is driving away. Download "Breathe Me" too. And go to You Tube and watch the trippy little video for "Clap Your Hands"...fun fun fun...it is a song that will get you moving and singing and clapping your hands...and it is hard not to love it....
no blogs until I get back...can't really blog on the iPhone...
Please pray for our safety as we travel....
bye darlings!
I step on the scale...and the scale tips...I'm lighter than the setting I have...
I GOT TO MOVE THE BAR
I GOT TO MOVE THE BAR
I GOT TO MOVE THE BAR
That was the sweetest sound when the scale tipped and let me know I had to move the big bar down a 50 pound increment.
I jumped off the scale and did a little dance...
Jumped back on just to be sure...and sure enough, I was a 1/2 pound UNDER! Woo hoo!
Thank you, Fitness Goddess!
Thank you, Spinderella!
Thank you, Precor (for making the elliptical machine)!
Thank you, Fit Foods (my breakfasts, most lunches or dinners and snacks)!
Thank you, Fage yogurt (for being my sweet snack)!
and most of all,
Thank you to my friends for all of your suggestions and support!
Now the reality of the situation is that my weight is still woefully high. I'm still obese. Not a word I like, "obese", but I am...
And what I weigh is a number that would send waves of shock and horror to most of you fine people...but for me it is the first time I have seen that number in over 3 years...maybe longer. It is NOT a good number but for me it is a BETTER number.
It was a small goal of mine to get here...under a certain break point...and now I have a new goal...to move that bar again. But that is 50 more pounds and that will not happen quickly. It will take a while. And as much as I would like to wake up tomorrow and move the bar again, I know it doesn't happen overnight.
BUT I GOT TO MOVE THE BAR!
I saw Fitness Goddess today...not for a workout, but she came to check on me when I was on the elliptical. I told her my theory about my eating (that I wasn't eating enough) and she confirmed that there was no way I was going to drop some poundage on that plan, so we went over everything and she has me straight now...and fussed at me for not telling her how few calories I was consuming. Last week I told her I was frustrated that I wasn't losing but I had neglected to mention the 1200 calories a day thing...and 150 of that was wine most days...
So I am keeping really good track of it all on my "Lose It" app on my iPhone and I promised her that I would stick to 1500-1800 calories (depending on my workout) every day. And spread my eating out. 3 small meals. 2-3 snacks.
I have a test of real willpower facing me...on Friday we are stopping for lunch in San Antonio and that can only mean one of two things---Earl Ables or Mi Tierra. Most likely Mi Ti's will win since my boy will be craving some Mexican food and my husband never met an enchilada he didn't like, but it is darn hard to order chicken fajitas with corn torillas when what I really want is a good South Texas style cheese enchilada or some mole enchiladas...mmmmmm....mole....mmmmmm
this may go on record as one of the few times I went to Mi Ti's sober...or stayed sober at Mi Ti's....no margaritas for me or I might pass out on the way home...on the other hand, George WILL be driving....hmmmm....but no, too many calories...gotta keep moving the bar...
I do recall one other time that I hit Mi Ti's for lunch and didn't have a margarita and was not hung over from a Fiesta party the night before. The kids' school/church has a festival every spring...one of the most popular booths is the cascarone booth (confetti eggs if you are not from Texas). I chaired the booth with another mom and we drove to San Antonio to pick up the 800 dozen eggs (cacarones) we had ordered from some chicken farm around there. We dubbed ourselves the "cascarone queens" (and wore tiaras). So we pointed her hubby's suburban west on I-10 and left early enough for a quick trip into San Antonio to shop at the mercado and eat at Mi Ti's before heading to the chicken farm.
We got there in plenty of time only to realize it was FIESTA week in San Antonio...for those of you "in the know", you know what that means...traffic...lots of people downtown. But we found a parking spot and hit the mercado where she snagged the most awesome "Tree of Life"...I have yet to find one that I: 1) like as much and 2) can afford. Here's hoping I have better luck on Friday...
We ate at Mi Ti's (enchiladas) and considered a margarita but thought the better of it and passed and then headed to the chicken farm.
Friends, have you ever been to a chicken farm?
PEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!
What a horrible smell.
It reeked of chicken...poop...it smelled of chicken poop!
We thought we could escape the smell once we got inside the packing plant and paid for our purchases but....noooooooooooooooooooooooo...
Inside the packing plant was an aweful egg odor (smell a room temperature egg sometime and then multiply that smell by 1000). There was also that slightly sulphury-eggy smell wafting around. Eau de Egg...
I asked the woman we were dealing with how she handled it. She pointed to the candle on her desk. It wasn't working...
I suggested one of those lamps that burns oils to get rid of smells and she said she had tried everything known to man and that nothing worked (even the lamp) and that candles were cheaper. I literally was gagging the whole time (I am sensitve to smells) and was regretting the enchilada decision. It was bringing up bad memories of the time I got sick at Yellowstone Park when we were at the boiling sulpher mud pots...
I went into the bathroom...when I tell you that the bathroom was the BEST smelling room in the place, you can get an idea of how bad the Eau de Egg and chicken poop odors were!
So we had 800 dozen eggs to fit into and on top of the suburban, along with cartons for the eggs as they were packed in large flats. It took 2 men, a lot of rope and my friend and me to get it all loaded up but we did it. All the while smelling that horrible smell from the chicken coops. We gagged a lot. And regretted the enchiladas...a lot...
As we headed back to Houston we laughed about what would happen if we had a wreck on the way...there would be confetti and egg shells everywhere...
I got home and took a bath with every bath product I could find...I reeked of egg smell. Peeeeeeeeeeeeee-uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu
We stored the eggs at my house until it was time for the festival...my cats went nuts smelling the smell (I burned an oil lamp non-stop) and the loved playing on the boxes. For some insane reason we agreed to chair the booth again and did the whole adventure again except that time we decided to forego San Antonio in favor of stopping for bar-be-que in Luling on the way back...it was safer to have an empty stomach with the bad smell.
Since then the school/church has found a vendor for the eggs that brings them to us and I no longer have to man the cascarone booth as I gave it up after discovering that I couldn't drink beer and handle tickets and eggs at the same time. I was happy to relinquish the title of "Cascarone Queen" but didn't give up my tiara...in fact I wore it this year to the festival to promote the kid's spring musical ("Cinderella") but the head of the school still suspects (rightly so) that I just like an excuse to wear a sparkly crown.
Yes, I do love me some sparkles and rhinestones...and crystals...and sequins...and glitter...and I love to wear a crown...
There ends the tale of the Cascarone Queens...
So thank you all for your support...I love having you on this journey with me...and I love all the messages and emails and facebook comments and love all of you who have signed up to "follow" this blog. It means a lot...because this is my therapy and free blogging is way cheaper than paying someone listen to me ramble on...
Inspiration Music..."Clap Your Hands" by Sia!!!!!!!!!!!!! My favorite song of the moment...she is an amazing artist. Download the "radio edit"...heck, download the whole "We are Born" album as it is literally awesome start to finish. She is an incredible artist from Australia---best known for her song "Breathe Me" from a few years back---they use it a lot in commercials and tv shows and it was the finale song for the show "Six Feet Under" when Claire is driving away. Download "Breathe Me" too. And go to You Tube and watch the trippy little video for "Clap Your Hands"...fun fun fun...it is a song that will get you moving and singing and clapping your hands...and it is hard not to love it....
no blogs until I get back...can't really blog on the iPhone...
Please pray for our safety as we travel....
bye darlings!
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Steady As She Goes
The bar didn't get to move...yet...I'm like 1/2 a pound away.
I think I sweated it out in Spinderella's class today. She gave us another grueling workout and I love her for it. I'm never bored, she always plays good (fun) music, and the video distraction is really helpful when your quads are screaming in pain.
Today she treated us to a Rihanna concert video and more of the extreme skiers. Rihanna is beautiful. The skiers are NUTS...these are the kinds of guys that get droped on a mountain via helicopter and they ski down...and sometimes parachute. NUTS.
I'll take my adrenaline in easier doses, thankyouverymuch...
I didn't weigh myself all weekend. I did weigh myself yesterday and today and at least I was moving the little bar to the left. It is almost to the "0" (zero)! I can feel it...any day now I get to move the 50 pound increment bar...steady as she goes...
So I got to wondering what was giving me a little jump start on my losing again...and I think I figured it out.
For a moment there I was terrified that it was my wine and that I was going to have to tell Bacchus not make any more yummy suggestions and I was going to have to stop checking the cinderellawine.com website every day, but wine doesn't seem to be the culprit. I'm not drinking enough of it for it to affect me...at least not calorie-wise...and a glass (sometimes 2) isn't going to trip me up.
I think I wasn't...and this is wild to me...eating enough.
I was sending my body into starvation mode. I was not getting enough calories. "I" and "not enough calories" in the same sentence.
As horribly sluggish as my metabolism is, I was not helping it by under-consuming. I'm doing workouts burning a minimum of 600 calories and I sometimes hit a high of over 1000 in a workout. Some days I was barely eating 1200 calories and working out hard. Not enough fuel...
So I have played with it a bit over the last few days and I have been eating a bit more frequently...fueling myself a bit every few hours, but with healthy stuff. 3 small, good, balanced meals a day and 2 snacks...sometimes 3 if I eat an early dinner.
My snacks are either Greek-style yogurt (Fage 2% honey or blueberry), Oatmega bars (I like the blueberry one and the peanut butter one), fruit, an ounce of almonds, V8 (low sodium ONLY), or Fit Foods Black bean soup.
And I still have my glass of wine most (but not all) nights. Last night I opened a bottle of "Ball Buster" red blend---mostly Shiraz with some Cab and Merlot thrown in for fun---$13 at Costco---and it is not bad...but not as good as the Molly Dooker Boxer...but half the price...so...
And I think taking Sunday off from the gym helped too. I have found that when I give myself a day off I come back stronger and get a longer, harder workout. I have only skipped 6 days since March 27 so I am entitled and I need to not feel guilty about it.
I'm going to take Thursday off too. Because on Thursday I get to pick the Cutest Boy in the World up from Camp LaJunta. We may need an ark to get there. The camp is possibly going to have to alter closing if the rain keeps coming. We might have to have a drive-by closing. Thank you, "Alex" for literally raining on my parade...
We have had a drive-by closing before. A drive-by closing is a little like a drive-by shooting except that what they shoot into your car is something you want (your son). Not bullets.
I didn't mind the drive-by thing so much excpet that I didn't get to see my son win a big award that year. Every year as I sit and sweat to death and melt in the heat at closing (oh yes, and they have a FIRE going) I wonder if the trade-off is worth it...you can drive-by and pick up your kid but you don't see the awards or you can swelter and see your very excited child get an award. I'll take the heat and the excited kid...
But the drive-by does have its merits---you drive into the camp in your car and you stop along the way and turn in forms (for camp next year), pick up meds and awards, pay camp store bill, and then, in a moment that is just AMAZING they do the best thing ever---THEY LOAD THE TRUNK AND ALL THE CRAP INTO THE CAR FOR YOU RIGHT THEN AND THERE AND YOU NEVER LEAVE YOUR VEHICLE. And yes, you get your son too! I'm just kidding with you here...getting your boy is the best part but the loading the car without leaving the comfort of air conditioning is pretty sweet.
Regular camp closing is pretty well done at Camp LaJunta anyway. You line up in your cars and wait for a bit---all the while listening to the camp radio that is playing "boys like this" kind of music and the camp director keeps giving you time updates---and then you get let into the main part of the camp. You park your car near the big field near where a sign marks your son's cabin area. And there, on the field, are ALL of the camp trunks---neatly organized into rows, ready to be loaded. You get out of your car and point to your son's belongings and a cute boy counselor helps you load the stuff into your car, all the while telling you how great your kid is. Then you wait...and then they release the boys for the "charge from the cabins" and soon, as you anxiously look for the running boy that is your son, you see your precious boy running toward you to throw himself into your arms and allow himself to be covered in kisses. And then he turns back into a "cool" boy and steps away. And then you have to melt during the awards...but you get your kid back...and then you get the ride home with the most excited boy in the world telling you that camp is the best place. EVER.
Ke$ha Barbie used to go to Camp Mystic...for 8 years...she used to think it was the best place. EVER.
I must pause here to cry a bit because this year she decided to forgo camp in favor of going to concerts. So we told her she had to get a job...because we are mean, evil, terrible parents. And no, that job could NOT be working as a counselor at one of the country clubs for 3 weeks taking care of country club member's kids. So she can be found hostessing at Pappasitos on Wednesday and Friday nights and Sunday afternoons...
(sniff sniff)
Camp Mystic literally asks you to take your life into your hands when it comes to loading the trunks at closing. It's not so bad if you have a younger girl, but the "senior" girls live in cabins on the hill. The way up and down the hill is a very steep one-way "road" that you must ascertain that no one is coming the opposite way from you before you go up or down the hill. Once up the hill you have to play "chicken" with the other dads in suburbans to get to your daughter's cabin. Then you have to find a parking place (easier said than done) and then you have to drag your daughter's trunk and garbage (and girls have way more crap and garbage than boys do) out of the cabin and down some stone steps and then load into the car and then try and get down the hill without having a head-on collision.
I dont' remember much about my own camp closing other than the fact that seeing your parent's car was a depressing sight and we had all the trunks on the porch so we could drop them into the car trunks or slide them into the back of the station wagons. Our parents would then follow us around to watch us do our activities (we always had to chase some dad out of the cabin so we could change for swimming) and then we would have lunch (the best fried chicken ever...or was it BBQ?) and then we had awards. And then an hour of boo-hoo as we said goodbye.
The girls at Mystic have boo-hoo. The boys at LaJunta do not.
My parents had to deal with 3 crying girls and 3 nasty trunks...and then 4 once my brother joined us. One year my sister K kept throwing a wet bathing suit into her trunk and everything mildewed in it. She wore the same clothes for a week until one of the counselors discovered what was happening and made my sister N deal with it...and someone washed the clothes.
And as for those clothes...let's talk about THAT for a moment...because I say a little prayer before I open up that trunk and see what is lurking inside. It usually smells pretty bad...
One year my son informed me that I didn't need to wash his clothes because the CIT washed all of his laundry the day before. So all of his clothes and linens (he didn't use the word "linens" but you know what I mean) were clean. Because the CIT washed it...the CIT being the "counselor in training" who is 16 years old. I'm glad that the CIT's get those skills...way more useful than how to put cheetos and shaving cream into your hair for a cool hairdo.
I informed my son that there was "camp clean" and "mom clean" and that they were not the same thing.
I wash everything in the trunk...have the kids put their clothes away and then I put all the linens and non-clothes back into the trunk. And then I will wash it all again in May before camp. Because that is "mom clean". And I want my kids to have their first night in their camp bunk to be on sheets that still smell like the Downy I like to use.
So Thursday I will skip the gym and my exercise will be in patience as I ride in the car for 4 1/2 hours to go get my boy. It will be a great day...I get to have lunch with my beautiful sister-in-law and my precious niece and nephew (and they will come to camp with us and melt) and then we are having dinner with some dear friends that moved to the hill country and my son will get to spend the night at their house and spend some time with his best friend (they may have moved but my son still considers him his best friend. EVER.). And the next morning we will shop at the mercado in San Antonio (and lunch at Mi Ti's...heaven...) before heading back.
Camp closings are bittersweet...I remember the great times I had at Friday Mountain Girls Camp and the boo-hoo of seperation. (shout out to my FMGC cabin mates and the Buckaroos) Because camp was the best place. EVER.
And when I get home I will get on the scale and hopefully I will get to move the bar---or there might be an hour of boo-hoo...
But it will happen...steady as she goes...a tiny bit at a time...but at least it is moving...
Inspiration music: "Steady As She Goes" by The Raconteurs...because it was playing as I left the gym today after Spinderella set my legs on fire...
bye darlings...
I think I sweated it out in Spinderella's class today. She gave us another grueling workout and I love her for it. I'm never bored, she always plays good (fun) music, and the video distraction is really helpful when your quads are screaming in pain.
Today she treated us to a Rihanna concert video and more of the extreme skiers. Rihanna is beautiful. The skiers are NUTS...these are the kinds of guys that get droped on a mountain via helicopter and they ski down...and sometimes parachute. NUTS.
I'll take my adrenaline in easier doses, thankyouverymuch...
I didn't weigh myself all weekend. I did weigh myself yesterday and today and at least I was moving the little bar to the left. It is almost to the "0" (zero)! I can feel it...any day now I get to move the 50 pound increment bar...steady as she goes...
So I got to wondering what was giving me a little jump start on my losing again...and I think I figured it out.
For a moment there I was terrified that it was my wine and that I was going to have to tell Bacchus not make any more yummy suggestions and I was going to have to stop checking the cinderellawine.com website every day, but wine doesn't seem to be the culprit. I'm not drinking enough of it for it to affect me...at least not calorie-wise...and a glass (sometimes 2) isn't going to trip me up.
I think I wasn't...and this is wild to me...eating enough.
I was sending my body into starvation mode. I was not getting enough calories. "I" and "not enough calories" in the same sentence.
As horribly sluggish as my metabolism is, I was not helping it by under-consuming. I'm doing workouts burning a minimum of 600 calories and I sometimes hit a high of over 1000 in a workout. Some days I was barely eating 1200 calories and working out hard. Not enough fuel...
So I have played with it a bit over the last few days and I have been eating a bit more frequently...fueling myself a bit every few hours, but with healthy stuff. 3 small, good, balanced meals a day and 2 snacks...sometimes 3 if I eat an early dinner.
My snacks are either Greek-style yogurt (Fage 2% honey or blueberry), Oatmega bars (I like the blueberry one and the peanut butter one), fruit, an ounce of almonds, V8 (low sodium ONLY), or Fit Foods Black bean soup.
And I still have my glass of wine most (but not all) nights. Last night I opened a bottle of "Ball Buster" red blend---mostly Shiraz with some Cab and Merlot thrown in for fun---$13 at Costco---and it is not bad...but not as good as the Molly Dooker Boxer...but half the price...so...
And I think taking Sunday off from the gym helped too. I have found that when I give myself a day off I come back stronger and get a longer, harder workout. I have only skipped 6 days since March 27 so I am entitled and I need to not feel guilty about it.
I'm going to take Thursday off too. Because on Thursday I get to pick the Cutest Boy in the World up from Camp LaJunta. We may need an ark to get there. The camp is possibly going to have to alter closing if the rain keeps coming. We might have to have a drive-by closing. Thank you, "Alex" for literally raining on my parade...
We have had a drive-by closing before. A drive-by closing is a little like a drive-by shooting except that what they shoot into your car is something you want (your son). Not bullets.
I didn't mind the drive-by thing so much excpet that I didn't get to see my son win a big award that year. Every year as I sit and sweat to death and melt in the heat at closing (oh yes, and they have a FIRE going) I wonder if the trade-off is worth it...you can drive-by and pick up your kid but you don't see the awards or you can swelter and see your very excited child get an award. I'll take the heat and the excited kid...
But the drive-by does have its merits---you drive into the camp in your car and you stop along the way and turn in forms (for camp next year), pick up meds and awards, pay camp store bill, and then, in a moment that is just AMAZING they do the best thing ever---THEY LOAD THE TRUNK AND ALL THE CRAP INTO THE CAR FOR YOU RIGHT THEN AND THERE AND YOU NEVER LEAVE YOUR VEHICLE. And yes, you get your son too! I'm just kidding with you here...getting your boy is the best part but the loading the car without leaving the comfort of air conditioning is pretty sweet.
Regular camp closing is pretty well done at Camp LaJunta anyway. You line up in your cars and wait for a bit---all the while listening to the camp radio that is playing "boys like this" kind of music and the camp director keeps giving you time updates---and then you get let into the main part of the camp. You park your car near the big field near where a sign marks your son's cabin area. And there, on the field, are ALL of the camp trunks---neatly organized into rows, ready to be loaded. You get out of your car and point to your son's belongings and a cute boy counselor helps you load the stuff into your car, all the while telling you how great your kid is. Then you wait...and then they release the boys for the "charge from the cabins" and soon, as you anxiously look for the running boy that is your son, you see your precious boy running toward you to throw himself into your arms and allow himself to be covered in kisses. And then he turns back into a "cool" boy and steps away. And then you have to melt during the awards...but you get your kid back...and then you get the ride home with the most excited boy in the world telling you that camp is the best place. EVER.
Ke$ha Barbie used to go to Camp Mystic...for 8 years...she used to think it was the best place. EVER.
I must pause here to cry a bit because this year she decided to forgo camp in favor of going to concerts. So we told her she had to get a job...because we are mean, evil, terrible parents. And no, that job could NOT be working as a counselor at one of the country clubs for 3 weeks taking care of country club member's kids. So she can be found hostessing at Pappasitos on Wednesday and Friday nights and Sunday afternoons...
(sniff sniff)
Camp Mystic literally asks you to take your life into your hands when it comes to loading the trunks at closing. It's not so bad if you have a younger girl, but the "senior" girls live in cabins on the hill. The way up and down the hill is a very steep one-way "road" that you must ascertain that no one is coming the opposite way from you before you go up or down the hill. Once up the hill you have to play "chicken" with the other dads in suburbans to get to your daughter's cabin. Then you have to find a parking place (easier said than done) and then you have to drag your daughter's trunk and garbage (and girls have way more crap and garbage than boys do) out of the cabin and down some stone steps and then load into the car and then try and get down the hill without having a head-on collision.
I dont' remember much about my own camp closing other than the fact that seeing your parent's car was a depressing sight and we had all the trunks on the porch so we could drop them into the car trunks or slide them into the back of the station wagons. Our parents would then follow us around to watch us do our activities (we always had to chase some dad out of the cabin so we could change for swimming) and then we would have lunch (the best fried chicken ever...or was it BBQ?) and then we had awards. And then an hour of boo-hoo as we said goodbye.
The girls at Mystic have boo-hoo. The boys at LaJunta do not.
My parents had to deal with 3 crying girls and 3 nasty trunks...and then 4 once my brother joined us. One year my sister K kept throwing a wet bathing suit into her trunk and everything mildewed in it. She wore the same clothes for a week until one of the counselors discovered what was happening and made my sister N deal with it...and someone washed the clothes.
And as for those clothes...let's talk about THAT for a moment...because I say a little prayer before I open up that trunk and see what is lurking inside. It usually smells pretty bad...
One year my son informed me that I didn't need to wash his clothes because the CIT washed all of his laundry the day before. So all of his clothes and linens (he didn't use the word "linens" but you know what I mean) were clean. Because the CIT washed it...the CIT being the "counselor in training" who is 16 years old. I'm glad that the CIT's get those skills...way more useful than how to put cheetos and shaving cream into your hair for a cool hairdo.
I informed my son that there was "camp clean" and "mom clean" and that they were not the same thing.
I wash everything in the trunk...have the kids put their clothes away and then I put all the linens and non-clothes back into the trunk. And then I will wash it all again in May before camp. Because that is "mom clean". And I want my kids to have their first night in their camp bunk to be on sheets that still smell like the Downy I like to use.
So Thursday I will skip the gym and my exercise will be in patience as I ride in the car for 4 1/2 hours to go get my boy. It will be a great day...I get to have lunch with my beautiful sister-in-law and my precious niece and nephew (and they will come to camp with us and melt) and then we are having dinner with some dear friends that moved to the hill country and my son will get to spend the night at their house and spend some time with his best friend (they may have moved but my son still considers him his best friend. EVER.). And the next morning we will shop at the mercado in San Antonio (and lunch at Mi Ti's...heaven...) before heading back.
Camp closings are bittersweet...I remember the great times I had at Friday Mountain Girls Camp and the boo-hoo of seperation. (shout out to my FMGC cabin mates and the Buckaroos) Because camp was the best place. EVER.
And when I get home I will get on the scale and hopefully I will get to move the bar---or there might be an hour of boo-hoo...
But it will happen...steady as she goes...a tiny bit at a time...but at least it is moving...
Inspiration music: "Steady As She Goes" by The Raconteurs...because it was playing as I left the gym today after Spinderella set my legs on fire...
bye darlings...
Monday, June 28, 2010
Wheels
I got to drive Ke$ha Barbie's truck today. I have to admit...it was fun! I usually drive a suburban so the size was not an issue to me, although this did feel a bit bigger. It is a copper-colored Ford F150 double-cab King Ranch edition (ironic,huh?) truck. I'm describing the truck to you so you can do your darndest to to stay far, far away from it...although Ke$ha Barbie has become a better driver than I thought she would. I like the truck. And for 3 hours on highways 35, 77, and 59, it was all mine. Along with the wonderful stereo system...all mine to control...my iPod connected so it was MY music. Me, the truck, the iPod and the road...
My father is rolling in his grave that I like the truck. He had a GM/Chevy dealership for years...we only had Chevy trucks and GMC trucks. No Fords, at least not that I can remember. My sister had a big dually truck for hauling her horse trailer (it scared me to drive it but she was a wiz at it)but I dont' think it was a Ford...but I could be wrong.
In high school I drove a most un-sexy Suburban. When other friends had cool trucks or cute little cars, I had a suburban. So did my friend M. She sometimes had to drive this ugly green one we called "the booger". At least we had plenty of room for our pompoms in our suburbans.
My suburban did not have a cool stereo system like Ke$ha Barbie has. I had an 8 track. With an AM radio...no FM. I could listen to KTSA (from San Antonio) or play the few 8 track cassettes that I had. AC/DC "Back in Black"...
My father was a lot of fun but was decidly un-cool about music. He liked Charlie Pride (ok, that wasn't so bad), Ray Price, Anne Murray, and Hank Williams. My step-mother had a fondness for Julio Iglesias (thank you, but I prefer Enrique) and Barbra Streisand. My father was so excited when he bought an 8 track carousel...so we could continually hear Julio, Ray, and Babs...
There is a particularly annoying version of "Jingle Bells" that Barbra sings...my sisters and I detested it (along with a really horrible Julio song). We literally could drive each other (and ourselves) nuts by singing it. One year for Christmas my sister, S, gifted N and I with copies of Barbra's Christmas albumn. I burned it. She still wins the "worst present/but it really was a great joke" competition...even after 13 years...
So I had my suburban and then N gets handed down a suburban. But hers had a cassette player in it...not an 8 track...I was NOT happy...Daddy told me to console myself because mine at least had the fancy wire wheels (Cadallac wire wheels---put on my suburban as a joke by a car-dealer friend of Daddy's). I got wheels. She got a cassette. I was not happy...
I haven't had "fancy" wheels on a car since. Once my friend, Glamazon (I call her that because she is very tall and extremely beautiful...I mean in a head-turning "who is that chick" sort of glamazon way), had special wheels put on her car. They were F-A-N-C-Y and very shiny. Her husband picked them out. I just went with her to the tire place for them to be put on. We looked at the wheels when it was done and she asked what I thought (I think she was a bit unsure herself)and I said "they are fine" and then she asked what I REALLY thought (because she knows me well) and I said "well, they would be great if your name was Huggy Bear" (like the pimp guy from "Starsky and Hutch"). She busted out laughing. She kept the wheels but told her hubby. He laughed...but I think he wasn't happy with me for about 5 minutes. I kept calling her Huggy Bear...
Glamazon once managed to back into my mother's car when it was parked in my driveway. She also did it to her hubby's car. That's ok...we both had a habit of hitting things when backing out. Her daughter drives a big truck too...
But Glamazon is not a bad driver. That title was owned by my friend V when we were in high school. She hit things in the high school parking lot. She once hit a fire truck. She accidently drove her pink BMW into a 7-11. I loved her pink BMW. Her dad would check the mileage so we would drive it backwards to roll the miles off (yes, it worked in that car). One time we were driving it backwards in front of the Bush's house (yes, THE Bushes). Secret Service stopped us. Barbara asked what we were doing (she was leaving the house). It wasn't until YEARS later that I figured out that the silver haired lady who asked us what we were doing was Barbara Bush, my hero...
V ended up having to drive a big dark green bomb of a car. The windows wouldn't completely close. A roach crawled in once. It crawled up her leg. She stopped and jumped out of her car to shake it out. I think she was at the intersection of Westheimer and maybe Voss. I think she stopped in the middle of the intersection. She was wearing a mexican dress and add-a-beads. She came to my house to tell me about the roach. I liked her dress and add-a-beads. I was probably wearing one too...because that was what you wore, you know?
I am not going to pick on V anymore because I think I did as much damage in my car as she ever did...it is just that her stories are more colorful.
Now my dad may have been uncool about music but he was cool with the cars. He liked cars. Hence owning the dealership. He did a lot of damage to cars. Like driving through pastures and setting them on fire (because he was in low cars). Or once taking my mother's powder blue Caddie and running it through a pasture and scraping the paint off the sides (thank goodness the dealership had a paint and repair shop).
He had a Tornado that he turned into a hunting car---it had no doors, no roof, and gun scabbards attached to the sides. He once painted it black and dressed as Batman (with my step-mom as Bat Girl) for a party. He came to school to pick us up in that car and get-up. I thought it was awesome. My sister N was mortified.
He had a Porsche that I wouldn't ride in with him because he drove it too fast (this from the woman who was driving 80 most of the way from Rockport today).
So Rockport was great...I got a great tan, my husband wasted bait (no fish), Ke$ha Barbie and her friends had fun (they are still there with my husband). I came back early for an evening of peace and got here early enough to hit the gym and use MY wheels to get going. I misbehaved this weekend...I ate Mexican food (and chips) and drank beer and wine, and I ate tiny (amazing) fried soft shell crabs. And some sweet potato fries. So I needed to spend some time at the gym.
Tomorrow is spin class....new bikes (new wheels!) but I think I have to get new cycle shoes because my clips aren't right for the new bikes. Now what girl doesn't like an excuse to buy new shoes...even if they are cycle shoes?
Inspiration song: "Wheels" by Foo Fighters (yessssss)...because it came on just as I went through a nasty bit of a storm between Hillje and Wharton on Hwy 59...and it kept me calm...
Go out and use your wheels to move...
Bye Darlings...
My father is rolling in his grave that I like the truck. He had a GM/Chevy dealership for years...we only had Chevy trucks and GMC trucks. No Fords, at least not that I can remember. My sister had a big dually truck for hauling her horse trailer (it scared me to drive it but she was a wiz at it)but I dont' think it was a Ford...but I could be wrong.
In high school I drove a most un-sexy Suburban. When other friends had cool trucks or cute little cars, I had a suburban. So did my friend M. She sometimes had to drive this ugly green one we called "the booger". At least we had plenty of room for our pompoms in our suburbans.
My suburban did not have a cool stereo system like Ke$ha Barbie has. I had an 8 track. With an AM radio...no FM. I could listen to KTSA (from San Antonio) or play the few 8 track cassettes that I had. AC/DC "Back in Black"...
My father was a lot of fun but was decidly un-cool about music. He liked Charlie Pride (ok, that wasn't so bad), Ray Price, Anne Murray, and Hank Williams. My step-mother had a fondness for Julio Iglesias (thank you, but I prefer Enrique) and Barbra Streisand. My father was so excited when he bought an 8 track carousel...so we could continually hear Julio, Ray, and Babs...
There is a particularly annoying version of "Jingle Bells" that Barbra sings...my sisters and I detested it (along with a really horrible Julio song). We literally could drive each other (and ourselves) nuts by singing it. One year for Christmas my sister, S, gifted N and I with copies of Barbra's Christmas albumn. I burned it. She still wins the "worst present/but it really was a great joke" competition...even after 13 years...
So I had my suburban and then N gets handed down a suburban. But hers had a cassette player in it...not an 8 track...I was NOT happy...Daddy told me to console myself because mine at least had the fancy wire wheels (Cadallac wire wheels---put on my suburban as a joke by a car-dealer friend of Daddy's). I got wheels. She got a cassette. I was not happy...
I haven't had "fancy" wheels on a car since. Once my friend, Glamazon (I call her that because she is very tall and extremely beautiful...I mean in a head-turning "who is that chick" sort of glamazon way), had special wheels put on her car. They were F-A-N-C-Y and very shiny. Her husband picked them out. I just went with her to the tire place for them to be put on. We looked at the wheels when it was done and she asked what I thought (I think she was a bit unsure herself)and I said "they are fine" and then she asked what I REALLY thought (because she knows me well) and I said "well, they would be great if your name was Huggy Bear" (like the pimp guy from "Starsky and Hutch"). She busted out laughing. She kept the wheels but told her hubby. He laughed...but I think he wasn't happy with me for about 5 minutes. I kept calling her Huggy Bear...
Glamazon once managed to back into my mother's car when it was parked in my driveway. She also did it to her hubby's car. That's ok...we both had a habit of hitting things when backing out. Her daughter drives a big truck too...
But Glamazon is not a bad driver. That title was owned by my friend V when we were in high school. She hit things in the high school parking lot. She once hit a fire truck. She accidently drove her pink BMW into a 7-11. I loved her pink BMW. Her dad would check the mileage so we would drive it backwards to roll the miles off (yes, it worked in that car). One time we were driving it backwards in front of the Bush's house (yes, THE Bushes). Secret Service stopped us. Barbara asked what we were doing (she was leaving the house). It wasn't until YEARS later that I figured out that the silver haired lady who asked us what we were doing was Barbara Bush, my hero...
V ended up having to drive a big dark green bomb of a car. The windows wouldn't completely close. A roach crawled in once. It crawled up her leg. She stopped and jumped out of her car to shake it out. I think she was at the intersection of Westheimer and maybe Voss. I think she stopped in the middle of the intersection. She was wearing a mexican dress and add-a-beads. She came to my house to tell me about the roach. I liked her dress and add-a-beads. I was probably wearing one too...because that was what you wore, you know?
I am not going to pick on V anymore because I think I did as much damage in my car as she ever did...it is just that her stories are more colorful.
Now my dad may have been uncool about music but he was cool with the cars. He liked cars. Hence owning the dealership. He did a lot of damage to cars. Like driving through pastures and setting them on fire (because he was in low cars). Or once taking my mother's powder blue Caddie and running it through a pasture and scraping the paint off the sides (thank goodness the dealership had a paint and repair shop).
He had a Tornado that he turned into a hunting car---it had no doors, no roof, and gun scabbards attached to the sides. He once painted it black and dressed as Batman (with my step-mom as Bat Girl) for a party. He came to school to pick us up in that car and get-up. I thought it was awesome. My sister N was mortified.
He had a Porsche that I wouldn't ride in with him because he drove it too fast (this from the woman who was driving 80 most of the way from Rockport today).
So Rockport was great...I got a great tan, my husband wasted bait (no fish), Ke$ha Barbie and her friends had fun (they are still there with my husband). I came back early for an evening of peace and got here early enough to hit the gym and use MY wheels to get going. I misbehaved this weekend...I ate Mexican food (and chips) and drank beer and wine, and I ate tiny (amazing) fried soft shell crabs. And some sweet potato fries. So I needed to spend some time at the gym.
Tomorrow is spin class....new bikes (new wheels!) but I think I have to get new cycle shoes because my clips aren't right for the new bikes. Now what girl doesn't like an excuse to buy new shoes...even if they are cycle shoes?
Inspiration song: "Wheels" by Foo Fighters (yessssss)...because it came on just as I went through a nasty bit of a storm between Hillje and Wharton on Hwy 59...and it kept me calm...
Go out and use your wheels to move...
Bye Darlings...
Friday, June 25, 2010
Train in Vain
I'm off the soapbox...for now...but I'm not making any promises about the future...
So first I have to say that I am very appreciative about the support I received about my last blog---Freedom 90. I only received one note that voiced a dissenting opinion, but it came from a place of love and respect so despite my friend's views being different than my own, I am very happy she took the time to write me and express her point of view and beliefs. It took courage on her part to do so and I am happy she felt moved to do so. I am not going to turn this blog into some sort of lightning rod of controversy, but I am happy someone is reading this and it is moving people (in their minds, off the couch...whatever) and although I will stick to "my blog...my opinion" on this, I do not mind if you ever want to write me that you disagree with something I said...I may not change my mind, but you are welcome to tell me you feel differently. And if any of you decided to keep your dissenting view to yourself, and I am sure that there are a few of you (maybe more than a few), please know that just as I write this and invite you to read it, I will read what you write/say to me and respect that everyone has a right to their view and opinion.
As for those of you who were supportive...thank you...
Because after I hit the button "publish post" I had a little panic attack...so it was nice to know that there was support out there. Gay rights is not my struggle or cause...I just happen to have gay/lesbian friends who I love and support and felt moved, after watching an old friend on a CNN report yesterday (so proud of you TW!), to say how I felt. And for me, it is a lesson in not labeling...because we all do it and I am as guilty as anyone. As I said, labels belong in clothing, not on people. I pray that the first thing someone says to describe me is NOT "fat"...and I don't want to label my friend and his husband as "gay parents" but rather PARENTS because that is the important part...they are PARENTS...that is their label....I think they would approve...at least I hope they do.
I have all kinds of friends and people I love...some might get labeled as "gay" or "straight", "blonde", "Jewish", "African-American", "smart", "annoying"...whatever...I'm just happy I have friends whoever and WHATEVER you are and that you take the time to read what I have written. And I want everyone to love and respect everyone else. Now do I sound like a Miss American contestant or what? But I mean it...
My blog...my opinion...but I welcome yours as well...
So.....moving on.........
Wait, I want to get back up on the soapbox...
Earlier today I texted my friend TTG (ya'll know who he is, right?) and asked if he had gotten to his destination yet. He left yesterday to drive to an out-of-state wedding with his family. He planned to get to Alabama last night (he did) and then to his destination today. So I texted him, full well knowing he couldn't have gotten there yet. But I wanted to check on their progress and to let him know I was praying for their safety and that I love them. I love TTG and his family...a lot...
So I text him and he texts back. I say something else. He responds. So that was when I blasted him and asked if his wife was driving or if she was doing the text responses for him.
The next text I got was from her...she thanked me for calling him on it and nailing him. He was trying to text while driving. My texts are so not worth it. She took the iPhone away and they were safe and she loves me for it...and I love her for taking the phone and I love him for letting me nail him on this. NO TEXTING WHILE DRIVING PLEASE!
My husband does it. And he reads emails. I almost jumped out of the car at a stop sign the other day when he did it. If he wants to do it on his own, it is still an incredible danger but I have told him that if he ever does it again with one or both of our children in the car that I have put a divorce attorney's number on speed dial and I am not afraid to use it.
NO TEXTING WHILE DRIVING PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NO EMAILING EITHER!!!!!!
OK, now I promise to get off the soapbox...I just had to bust TTG one more time...because I love him and his family...
and I have been guilty of it too...but I am trying to stop...especially on the INTERSTATE HIGHWAY (which I don't do)...but I have texted while driving down Piney Point...but not anymore...
(climbing down from soapbox)...
So let me get back to what you usually come here for...Tales of the Fat Going Fit...
I didn't get to move the bar again today...in fact, I'm not sure I have lost ANYTHING this week...and I have been ultra-good. Like "Biggest Loser" good. 1000 calories burned at the gym each day. Kept my calorie intake right around 1200-1500 per day. Stayed busy each day so I wasn't a couch potato. Got pretty good sleep. Not too much wine (Bacchus is on vacation so I haven't had him making yummy suggestions to lead me astray). Cardio every day...every day! Weight training twice this week.
Nothing
Nada
I. Am. Frustrated.
I know that all of this training and cardio is not in vain. My heart is getting stronger. I am getting more fit. I am building muscle. I am losing fat...I think...
I know that muscle weighs more than fat so maybe that is what is going on...but really, I just want to see the scale move. I want to move the big bar and then start watching the little one wiggle on down to the left side of the scale again.
I can see it a bit on my body.
I don't look "good" but I will concede to "better"...
Today I had Fitness Goddess work me out today...but really what I had her do was to follow me to make sure I was doing it right...setting the machines right, moving the stuff right.
She is so great...she is wonderful...I highly recommend her if you belong to the HRC. Email me if you want her name and number...
I try not to beat myself up to much about this process. I got myself into this and I can get myself out. And I'm going to do it without pills...without surgery...and I'm going to do it for keeps. (Did I mention that I costumed "Seussical" for summer drama camp? I think a bit of it rubbed off as that sounded a little like Seuss there for a moment...)
I've told you I have been up and down before. I blame a lot of this last big weight gain on my mother's death...but it is really more laziness and the fact that I just plain like food and I like to eat. And I prefer cheese and cheesecake to carrots and celery. After a point, when I had gained back a lot of the weight I lost last time, I just gave up. I got bigger so it became a "what is one more pound" type of situation. I can't let that happen again.
The skinny chick inside me is really tired of hibernating. She wants to shop. She wants to wear flippy skirts. She wants to wear heels. She wants to wear a slinky dress to the Medieval Feast pre-party and a gorgeous gown to the feast---a gown with a corset showing off her tiny waist.
Now I am just whining again...sorry...
Tomorrow I am headed to Rockport for a few days of sun and fishing. I'll be home for a few days and then I get to pick up The Cutest Boy in the World from camp. You might not hear much from me over the next few days...writing a blog on an iPhone isn't exactly practical.
Whenever I pick my kids up at camp I am reminded of my own camp days. I had so much fun during the 5 years I went to camp. I had GREAT cabin friends. We had awesome counselors (my aunt was the best). Friday Mountain Girls Camp was a wonderful place to spend time in the summer.
We didn't have air conditioning but we didn't need it---we had giant box fans to blow the hot air over us to cool us off. And we had "Lake Dookie" every night...you see, the showers would leak like nobody's business so the water would creep out of the shower/toilet rooms and leak into the middle area of the cabin where the sinks were. We called it "Lake Dookie". It was clean shower water but still gross...
One year everyone...and I mean EVERYONE...came down with diarhea...it swept through the camp. We did skits about it and sang songs about it. One enterprising camper wrote a story about it...on toilet paper...while she was held hostage in the nurse's cabin.
We found ticks in the darndest places. 'Nuff said about that...
All the cabins had big front porches with a bench swing on them. The swing hung from the porch ceiling with some "s" hooks. One time a couple of girls got to swinging on the swing that they swung so hard that the swing came off the hooks and landed them flat on the porch floor. I think they pee'd themselves. We pee'd ourselves laughing about it. They were lucky their feet weren't below them and nothing was broken. I still laugh about that to this day...
I can't count the number of retainers that got thrown into the fire at "hunters stew". One brave counselor fished mine out before it melted. I couldn't really appreciate just what that meant until Ke$ha Barbie lost both of her retainers at a restaurant. An Ethiopian restaurant. You haven't lived until you have dug through the garbage of a restaurant...especially an Ethiopian one...
I would give up my calories for an entire week for a serving of brownie pudding...it was THAT good...I'd eat nothing but carrots...and then a pan of the stuff.
I think one of my favorite camp memories isn't exactly a camp memory. My father divorced my mother and married someone else when I was in middle school. They went on to have my 2 sisters and my brother (I hate the term half-brother and half-sister...last time I checked they were whole people...and still my brother and sister even if we had different moms). Anyway, my younger sister, SSS, was always a bit confused with the issue of MY mother. She wasn't HER mother or her step-mother, she was MY mother and my sisters and other brother's mother. We called my mom "Mom" and my stepmother by her first name. So here we are at camp pick-up time and my dad and step-mom AND my mother and her boyfriend of the moment are there. And so is my little sister SSS who is about 2 or 3 at the time. She knew who my mother was. So she sees my mother and rather than saying "Debbie", she runs across the camp field with her arms outstretched yelling "MOM" to my mother. She was so excited to see my mother...I don't know why but that amused the hell out of me...
Where am I going with all of this....summer memories...I guess nowhere but it is those happy thoughts that occupy my mind these days while I am slogging it off on the machine.
I'm going to get off my plateau...I know I will...I won't train in vain...and I'm going to catch some fish (and some rays) in Rockport and not get back on the scale until I get home and see if maybe taking a break from heavy training shocks my system back into doing what I want it to.
And I'm not going to text or email while driving tomorrow...
And I'm going to find a swing and swing so hard that I (almost) pee myself...I don't really want to pee myself...just get close...
Find a swing and go for it...
Inspiration song: "Train in Vain" by the Clash...one of the coolest bands ever...
Bye Darlings!
So first I have to say that I am very appreciative about the support I received about my last blog---Freedom 90. I only received one note that voiced a dissenting opinion, but it came from a place of love and respect so despite my friend's views being different than my own, I am very happy she took the time to write me and express her point of view and beliefs. It took courage on her part to do so and I am happy she felt moved to do so. I am not going to turn this blog into some sort of lightning rod of controversy, but I am happy someone is reading this and it is moving people (in their minds, off the couch...whatever) and although I will stick to "my blog...my opinion" on this, I do not mind if you ever want to write me that you disagree with something I said...I may not change my mind, but you are welcome to tell me you feel differently. And if any of you decided to keep your dissenting view to yourself, and I am sure that there are a few of you (maybe more than a few), please know that just as I write this and invite you to read it, I will read what you write/say to me and respect that everyone has a right to their view and opinion.
As for those of you who were supportive...thank you...
Because after I hit the button "publish post" I had a little panic attack...so it was nice to know that there was support out there. Gay rights is not my struggle or cause...I just happen to have gay/lesbian friends who I love and support and felt moved, after watching an old friend on a CNN report yesterday (so proud of you TW!), to say how I felt. And for me, it is a lesson in not labeling...because we all do it and I am as guilty as anyone. As I said, labels belong in clothing, not on people. I pray that the first thing someone says to describe me is NOT "fat"...and I don't want to label my friend and his husband as "gay parents" but rather PARENTS because that is the important part...they are PARENTS...that is their label....I think they would approve...at least I hope they do.
I have all kinds of friends and people I love...some might get labeled as "gay" or "straight", "blonde", "Jewish", "African-American", "smart", "annoying"...whatever...I'm just happy I have friends whoever and WHATEVER you are and that you take the time to read what I have written. And I want everyone to love and respect everyone else. Now do I sound like a Miss American contestant or what? But I mean it...
My blog...my opinion...but I welcome yours as well...
So.....moving on.........
Wait, I want to get back up on the soapbox...
Earlier today I texted my friend TTG (ya'll know who he is, right?) and asked if he had gotten to his destination yet. He left yesterday to drive to an out-of-state wedding with his family. He planned to get to Alabama last night (he did) and then to his destination today. So I texted him, full well knowing he couldn't have gotten there yet. But I wanted to check on their progress and to let him know I was praying for their safety and that I love them. I love TTG and his family...a lot...
So I text him and he texts back. I say something else. He responds. So that was when I blasted him and asked if his wife was driving or if she was doing the text responses for him.
The next text I got was from her...she thanked me for calling him on it and nailing him. He was trying to text while driving. My texts are so not worth it. She took the iPhone away and they were safe and she loves me for it...and I love her for taking the phone and I love him for letting me nail him on this. NO TEXTING WHILE DRIVING PLEASE!
My husband does it. And he reads emails. I almost jumped out of the car at a stop sign the other day when he did it. If he wants to do it on his own, it is still an incredible danger but I have told him that if he ever does it again with one or both of our children in the car that I have put a divorce attorney's number on speed dial and I am not afraid to use it.
NO TEXTING WHILE DRIVING PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NO EMAILING EITHER!!!!!!
OK, now I promise to get off the soapbox...I just had to bust TTG one more time...because I love him and his family...
and I have been guilty of it too...but I am trying to stop...especially on the INTERSTATE HIGHWAY (which I don't do)...but I have texted while driving down Piney Point...but not anymore...
(climbing down from soapbox)...
So let me get back to what you usually come here for...Tales of the Fat Going Fit...
I didn't get to move the bar again today...in fact, I'm not sure I have lost ANYTHING this week...and I have been ultra-good. Like "Biggest Loser" good. 1000 calories burned at the gym each day. Kept my calorie intake right around 1200-1500 per day. Stayed busy each day so I wasn't a couch potato. Got pretty good sleep. Not too much wine (Bacchus is on vacation so I haven't had him making yummy suggestions to lead me astray). Cardio every day...every day! Weight training twice this week.
Nothing
Nada
I. Am. Frustrated.
I know that all of this training and cardio is not in vain. My heart is getting stronger. I am getting more fit. I am building muscle. I am losing fat...I think...
I know that muscle weighs more than fat so maybe that is what is going on...but really, I just want to see the scale move. I want to move the big bar and then start watching the little one wiggle on down to the left side of the scale again.
I can see it a bit on my body.
I don't look "good" but I will concede to "better"...
Today I had Fitness Goddess work me out today...but really what I had her do was to follow me to make sure I was doing it right...setting the machines right, moving the stuff right.
She is so great...she is wonderful...I highly recommend her if you belong to the HRC. Email me if you want her name and number...
I try not to beat myself up to much about this process. I got myself into this and I can get myself out. And I'm going to do it without pills...without surgery...and I'm going to do it for keeps. (Did I mention that I costumed "Seussical" for summer drama camp? I think a bit of it rubbed off as that sounded a little like Seuss there for a moment...)
I've told you I have been up and down before. I blame a lot of this last big weight gain on my mother's death...but it is really more laziness and the fact that I just plain like food and I like to eat. And I prefer cheese and cheesecake to carrots and celery. After a point, when I had gained back a lot of the weight I lost last time, I just gave up. I got bigger so it became a "what is one more pound" type of situation. I can't let that happen again.
The skinny chick inside me is really tired of hibernating. She wants to shop. She wants to wear flippy skirts. She wants to wear heels. She wants to wear a slinky dress to the Medieval Feast pre-party and a gorgeous gown to the feast---a gown with a corset showing off her tiny waist.
Now I am just whining again...sorry...
Tomorrow I am headed to Rockport for a few days of sun and fishing. I'll be home for a few days and then I get to pick up The Cutest Boy in the World from camp. You might not hear much from me over the next few days...writing a blog on an iPhone isn't exactly practical.
Whenever I pick my kids up at camp I am reminded of my own camp days. I had so much fun during the 5 years I went to camp. I had GREAT cabin friends. We had awesome counselors (my aunt was the best). Friday Mountain Girls Camp was a wonderful place to spend time in the summer.
We didn't have air conditioning but we didn't need it---we had giant box fans to blow the hot air over us to cool us off. And we had "Lake Dookie" every night...you see, the showers would leak like nobody's business so the water would creep out of the shower/toilet rooms and leak into the middle area of the cabin where the sinks were. We called it "Lake Dookie". It was clean shower water but still gross...
One year everyone...and I mean EVERYONE...came down with diarhea...it swept through the camp. We did skits about it and sang songs about it. One enterprising camper wrote a story about it...on toilet paper...while she was held hostage in the nurse's cabin.
We found ticks in the darndest places. 'Nuff said about that...
All the cabins had big front porches with a bench swing on them. The swing hung from the porch ceiling with some "s" hooks. One time a couple of girls got to swinging on the swing that they swung so hard that the swing came off the hooks and landed them flat on the porch floor. I think they pee'd themselves. We pee'd ourselves laughing about it. They were lucky their feet weren't below them and nothing was broken. I still laugh about that to this day...
I can't count the number of retainers that got thrown into the fire at "hunters stew". One brave counselor fished mine out before it melted. I couldn't really appreciate just what that meant until Ke$ha Barbie lost both of her retainers at a restaurant. An Ethiopian restaurant. You haven't lived until you have dug through the garbage of a restaurant...especially an Ethiopian one...
I would give up my calories for an entire week for a serving of brownie pudding...it was THAT good...I'd eat nothing but carrots...and then a pan of the stuff.
I think one of my favorite camp memories isn't exactly a camp memory. My father divorced my mother and married someone else when I was in middle school. They went on to have my 2 sisters and my brother (I hate the term half-brother and half-sister...last time I checked they were whole people...and still my brother and sister even if we had different moms). Anyway, my younger sister, SSS, was always a bit confused with the issue of MY mother. She wasn't HER mother or her step-mother, she was MY mother and my sisters and other brother's mother. We called my mom "Mom" and my stepmother by her first name. So here we are at camp pick-up time and my dad and step-mom AND my mother and her boyfriend of the moment are there. And so is my little sister SSS who is about 2 or 3 at the time. She knew who my mother was. So she sees my mother and rather than saying "Debbie", she runs across the camp field with her arms outstretched yelling "MOM" to my mother. She was so excited to see my mother...I don't know why but that amused the hell out of me...
Where am I going with all of this....summer memories...I guess nowhere but it is those happy thoughts that occupy my mind these days while I am slogging it off on the machine.
I'm going to get off my plateau...I know I will...I won't train in vain...and I'm going to catch some fish (and some rays) in Rockport and not get back on the scale until I get home and see if maybe taking a break from heavy training shocks my system back into doing what I want it to.
And I'm not going to text or email while driving tomorrow...
And I'm going to find a swing and swing so hard that I (almost) pee myself...I don't really want to pee myself...just get close...
Find a swing and go for it...
Inspiration song: "Train in Vain" by the Clash...one of the coolest bands ever...
Bye Darlings!
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Freedom 90
A little note about today's blog...I don't intend to use this blog as a soapbox. I really write it as therapy and for fun. It is my writers outlet. And I know some of you are sharing/have shared my struggles with weight. Today is a bit different. It is about an opinion I have. Some of you may not agree with it. Others will. I don't really care which side you stand on---but I don't really want any negative feedback please.
My blog.
My opinion.
As I was having my love affair with my machine today (90 minutes thankyouverymuch), one of my favorite songs ever came on.
Freedom 90
by the incomparable George Michael...
Awesome song...awesome video (Supermodels of the 90's! Linda! Cindy! Naomi! Christy!)
I love the words...I love that George Michael was giving a big "screw you" to his record label...and I am sure his frustration for the industry and people in general that he could not openly come out as a gay man at that time. I'm so proud he did later.
Yes...this is about gay people...
If you don't like it, stop reading here...or maybe go ahead and read and open your mind a bit if you have closed it in regards to the Gay/Lesbian/Bisexsual/Transgender people of the world.
Again...my blog...my opinion...
So I am pumping away burning calories and thinking of George Michael (and some of his struggles---but he is an incredibly talented man) and how much I love that song. I had just read some things about June being "Pride Month" and I thought of some of my gay and lesbian friends.
And that got me thinking...do I (underline the word "I" here) LABEL them as my "gay friends"? Because I shouldn't...because they are my FRIENDS...
So why do we do it? And by "we" I mean the general public...
I don't refer to someone as my "black" friend (that would be racist and I am not...nope...not...)or as my "Muslim" friend. I may refer to someone as my "blonde friend" but then again I am blonde and we do have our moments...
So do I do that?
I hope not...because I don't want to label someone according to their sexuality any more than I want to label them according to race, or religion...
But people do DO that...label someone...and for some people it is ok to use those labels.
I'm not sure my gay or lesbian friends mind that label, but it shouldn't be what they ARE...it is just a part of them...just like some of them are redheads...
But I hate that anyone is labeled for who they love. The heart loves who the heart loves...and the love part is all that matters.
I want to live in a world where things are equal. Where no one has to be labeled. I want that world for my children. I want that world for my grandchildren.
I have a female friend who loves another woman. They are a happy couple. I love them. I am happy that they have found each other. They have someone to love. That is all that matters.
I don't want to label them as a lesbian couple...they are a COUPLE. Period.
The first boy I ever had a real crush on is gay. He was beautiful then. He is more beautiful now. I think I loved his beauty....because it came from inside. He has the most devestating smile. I have't seen him in person in a long time but every photo I see of him, dang...he gets better looking. I have not aged as beautifully. His boyfriend is a lucky man...
I want my gay and lesbian friends to have the same rights to marriage and equal rights as I enjoy as a heterosexual woman. It is only fair. I'd hate it if I got discriminated against for being...blonde...
If one of my children or grandchildren ever comes to me and tells me that they love someone of the same sex, I can promise you that the only thing I will care about is if that person is a good, loving person and treats my child or grandchild like the treasure they are. I will not be concerned at all if they are the same sex. I want them to love who they love.
So I guess what I am saying here is that labels belong in clothing to tell you how to wash things or who made the garment and (sigh) what size it is. But it is not for people.
I'm not gay so I cannot understand what it is like to be gay or lesbian and to be discriminated against for your sexuality (for those who have endured that). All I can say is that I wish no one to be discriminated against...least of all for who you love...
I wish for a world where everyone can express their love for who they love.
I don't care who you love...just love...just love...and don't judge others for who they love...be happy that they love...
"Freedom 90" by the amazing George Michael...
Getting down off of the soapbox...
and no, I didn't get to move that bar...so rather than whining about it I decided to talk about something more important...
Bye Darlings
My blog.
My opinion.
As I was having my love affair with my machine today (90 minutes thankyouverymuch), one of my favorite songs ever came on.
Freedom 90
by the incomparable George Michael...
Awesome song...awesome video (Supermodels of the 90's! Linda! Cindy! Naomi! Christy!)
I love the words...I love that George Michael was giving a big "screw you" to his record label...and I am sure his frustration for the industry and people in general that he could not openly come out as a gay man at that time. I'm so proud he did later.
Yes...this is about gay people...
If you don't like it, stop reading here...or maybe go ahead and read and open your mind a bit if you have closed it in regards to the Gay/Lesbian/Bisexsual/Transgender people of the world.
Again...my blog...my opinion...
So I am pumping away burning calories and thinking of George Michael (and some of his struggles---but he is an incredibly talented man) and how much I love that song. I had just read some things about June being "Pride Month" and I thought of some of my gay and lesbian friends.
And that got me thinking...do I (underline the word "I" here) LABEL them as my "gay friends"? Because I shouldn't...because they are my FRIENDS...
So why do we do it? And by "we" I mean the general public...
I don't refer to someone as my "black" friend (that would be racist and I am not...nope...not...)or as my "Muslim" friend. I may refer to someone as my "blonde friend" but then again I am blonde and we do have our moments...
So do I do that?
I hope not...because I don't want to label someone according to their sexuality any more than I want to label them according to race, or religion...
But people do DO that...label someone...and for some people it is ok to use those labels.
I'm not sure my gay or lesbian friends mind that label, but it shouldn't be what they ARE...it is just a part of them...just like some of them are redheads...
But I hate that anyone is labeled for who they love. The heart loves who the heart loves...and the love part is all that matters.
I want to live in a world where things are equal. Where no one has to be labeled. I want that world for my children. I want that world for my grandchildren.
I have a female friend who loves another woman. They are a happy couple. I love them. I am happy that they have found each other. They have someone to love. That is all that matters.
I don't want to label them as a lesbian couple...they are a COUPLE. Period.
The first boy I ever had a real crush on is gay. He was beautiful then. He is more beautiful now. I think I loved his beauty....because it came from inside. He has the most devestating smile. I have't seen him in person in a long time but every photo I see of him, dang...he gets better looking. I have not aged as beautifully. His boyfriend is a lucky man...
I want my gay and lesbian friends to have the same rights to marriage and equal rights as I enjoy as a heterosexual woman. It is only fair. I'd hate it if I got discriminated against for being...blonde...
If one of my children or grandchildren ever comes to me and tells me that they love someone of the same sex, I can promise you that the only thing I will care about is if that person is a good, loving person and treats my child or grandchild like the treasure they are. I will not be concerned at all if they are the same sex. I want them to love who they love.
So I guess what I am saying here is that labels belong in clothing to tell you how to wash things or who made the garment and (sigh) what size it is. But it is not for people.
I'm not gay so I cannot understand what it is like to be gay or lesbian and to be discriminated against for your sexuality (for those who have endured that). All I can say is that I wish no one to be discriminated against...least of all for who you love...
I wish for a world where everyone can express their love for who they love.
I don't care who you love...just love...just love...and don't judge others for who they love...be happy that they love...
"Freedom 90" by the amazing George Michael...
Getting down off of the soapbox...
and no, I didn't get to move that bar...so rather than whining about it I decided to talk about something more important...
Bye Darlings
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
SOS
Warning: I have written this blog under the influence of 2 Molinaas Margaritas and a bit of sleep deprivation and just plain being tired...SOS...
it was that kind of day...in fact, I almost named this blog after a song that I sang (twice) while in the car---a song from the amazing musical "Spring Awakening" called..."Totally F$##%#%"...but I decided that naming my blog after a song title that contained the "f-bomb" was not appropriate...
So SOS it is...
Because it was that kind of day...
When I left my house to go to the gym, Isner and Mahut were still playing their epic battle at Wimbledon...I can't believe that the fight will go on...those poor men...
I did my workout and just as I got off, I looked up at the tv screens in the health club and saw Landon Donovan score that epic goal for the USA in the World Cup. That was a good thing. Almost, but not quite, the high point of my day...
So I workout and then head up to the middle school to help GOTT (God Of The Theater) and TTG (Tech Theater God) get ready for our show (Seussical) tonight with the drama camp kids. I love GOTT and TTG and those kids...
I needed a few more costumes (this is normal....me shopping at the last minute) so I headed to Goodwill. People, there is good stuff to be found there. I saw a Juicy Couture terry cloth dress there...it can be yours for $11.
SOS
Seussical On Stage
Short On Sanity
Save Our Show
Well, I didn't REALLY need to save the show but at 4:45 (curtain was at 7:00) we discovered we were one "cat in the hat" hat short so I ran to Party City (the one close to me) to buy one. No luck there. By then it was 5:00 and I had to go to the Party City at Highway 6 and Westheimer...in the 5:00 traffic...to get the hat.
When I got back to the theater I told GOTT that when the Gertrude character sings the song "ALL FOR YOU" he needed to think of me...because for him I drove in bad traffic to buy a $7 hat...he told me he would have let it go...but no...I did it all "for you" I told him...he loves me...
The kids were amazing and I enjoyed watching them...2 weeks is not a lot of time to stage a full-on musical but GOTT and TTG did it...they are AMAZING (more than Mayzie if you have seen the show...)and the kids...INCREDIBLE...that was the high point of my day...
So back to SOS...that hit the iPod at the 47 minute mark in my workout...just as I was dying...and dying to watch the end of the World Cup match...and it took me back...right back to Kingsville and the roller skating place.
Does anyone from Kingsville remember the old skating rink in the quonset hut building? They always played "SOS" by ABBA as I skated around...in my shiny pink sating short shorts...or my terry cloth ones with the matching terry cloth top...
SOS
Shorts On Skates
Kingsville was an interesting place to grow up...I've called it the "armpit of Texas" for quite some time now but really, I am happy I am from Kingsville and I think I was pretty lucky to grow up there.
I have a lot of old friends from Kingsville...and I am happy to still call them friends...even if we just talk on Facebook most of the time. And I got to experience things like climbing mesquite trees, smelling Celanese, eating the best ice cream ever at the Big Scoop, and dining at King's Inn. There is more to Kingsville than the King Ranch, the Saddle Shop, and wind. Texa A&I (I know they call it Texas A&M Kingsville now, but to me it will always be A&I) is there and I got to watch the A&I Fighting Javalinas win a national championship (not once but twice and no, they weren't in the "big" conference but it was a national championship just the same). I got to see my uncle turn the Big Scoop into the Pizza Parlor (best pizza in the world, people...). I bought music at Durhams. I drank the best milkshakes in the world at Harrel drugs. And yes, I ate the best seafood ever at King's Inn.
But it is the people of Kingsville that have my heart. My parents had some amazingly great friends that lived (and many still live) in Kingsville. I have an extra family with those people. And I have friends that I went to school with that I am blessed to still call "friend". Yesterday one girl who I grew up with (SP that is YOU!) wrote me the most amazing email note...she did me some real good since I wasn't able to "move that bar" (see the last 2 blogs). I went to a funeral a few months ago (Vaya con Dios RF) and as I hugged and kissed my parents dear friends I was reminded how lucky I was to hear their voices say my name and feel their arms around me...even when MY parents are gone. These are the people that drove me to school, that cooked burgers and hot dogs on Sundays on our grill, that saved me from the deep end when I couldn't swim. These are WONDERFUL people...they hear my SOS...and take care of me because I don't have parents anymore...
SOS
They save me...they love me...they take care of me even though I am an adult...
You never know who will hear your SOS...
Sometimes it is an old friend...
Sometimes YOU hear the SOS...because you do it "All for you" (GOTT and TTG)...
But it is always because of love...the love you gave me, nothing else can save me SOS...
I warned you that I wrote this under the influence of tequila...
SOS...send one out or receive one and save someone...
"SOS" by ABBA...or the movie cast...take your pick...this time I like ABBA better...
bye darlings
it was that kind of day...in fact, I almost named this blog after a song that I sang (twice) while in the car---a song from the amazing musical "Spring Awakening" called..."Totally F$##%#%"...but I decided that naming my blog after a song title that contained the "f-bomb" was not appropriate...
So SOS it is...
Because it was that kind of day...
When I left my house to go to the gym, Isner and Mahut were still playing their epic battle at Wimbledon...I can't believe that the fight will go on...those poor men...
I did my workout and just as I got off, I looked up at the tv screens in the health club and saw Landon Donovan score that epic goal for the USA in the World Cup. That was a good thing. Almost, but not quite, the high point of my day...
So I workout and then head up to the middle school to help GOTT (God Of The Theater) and TTG (Tech Theater God) get ready for our show (Seussical) tonight with the drama camp kids. I love GOTT and TTG and those kids...
I needed a few more costumes (this is normal....me shopping at the last minute) so I headed to Goodwill. People, there is good stuff to be found there. I saw a Juicy Couture terry cloth dress there...it can be yours for $11.
SOS
Seussical On Stage
Short On Sanity
Save Our Show
Well, I didn't REALLY need to save the show but at 4:45 (curtain was at 7:00) we discovered we were one "cat in the hat" hat short so I ran to Party City (the one close to me) to buy one. No luck there. By then it was 5:00 and I had to go to the Party City at Highway 6 and Westheimer...in the 5:00 traffic...to get the hat.
When I got back to the theater I told GOTT that when the Gertrude character sings the song "ALL FOR YOU" he needed to think of me...because for him I drove in bad traffic to buy a $7 hat...he told me he would have let it go...but no...I did it all "for you" I told him...he loves me...
The kids were amazing and I enjoyed watching them...2 weeks is not a lot of time to stage a full-on musical but GOTT and TTG did it...they are AMAZING (more than Mayzie if you have seen the show...)and the kids...INCREDIBLE...that was the high point of my day...
So back to SOS...that hit the iPod at the 47 minute mark in my workout...just as I was dying...and dying to watch the end of the World Cup match...and it took me back...right back to Kingsville and the roller skating place.
Does anyone from Kingsville remember the old skating rink in the quonset hut building? They always played "SOS" by ABBA as I skated around...in my shiny pink sating short shorts...or my terry cloth ones with the matching terry cloth top...
SOS
Shorts On Skates
Kingsville was an interesting place to grow up...I've called it the "armpit of Texas" for quite some time now but really, I am happy I am from Kingsville and I think I was pretty lucky to grow up there.
I have a lot of old friends from Kingsville...and I am happy to still call them friends...even if we just talk on Facebook most of the time. And I got to experience things like climbing mesquite trees, smelling Celanese, eating the best ice cream ever at the Big Scoop, and dining at King's Inn. There is more to Kingsville than the King Ranch, the Saddle Shop, and wind. Texa A&I (I know they call it Texas A&M Kingsville now, but to me it will always be A&I) is there and I got to watch the A&I Fighting Javalinas win a national championship (not once but twice and no, they weren't in the "big" conference but it was a national championship just the same). I got to see my uncle turn the Big Scoop into the Pizza Parlor (best pizza in the world, people...). I bought music at Durhams. I drank the best milkshakes in the world at Harrel drugs. And yes, I ate the best seafood ever at King's Inn.
But it is the people of Kingsville that have my heart. My parents had some amazingly great friends that lived (and many still live) in Kingsville. I have an extra family with those people. And I have friends that I went to school with that I am blessed to still call "friend". Yesterday one girl who I grew up with (SP that is YOU!) wrote me the most amazing email note...she did me some real good since I wasn't able to "move that bar" (see the last 2 blogs). I went to a funeral a few months ago (Vaya con Dios RF) and as I hugged and kissed my parents dear friends I was reminded how lucky I was to hear their voices say my name and feel their arms around me...even when MY parents are gone. These are the people that drove me to school, that cooked burgers and hot dogs on Sundays on our grill, that saved me from the deep end when I couldn't swim. These are WONDERFUL people...they hear my SOS...and take care of me because I don't have parents anymore...
SOS
They save me...they love me...they take care of me even though I am an adult...
You never know who will hear your SOS...
Sometimes it is an old friend...
Sometimes YOU hear the SOS...because you do it "All for you" (GOTT and TTG)...
But it is always because of love...the love you gave me, nothing else can save me SOS...
I warned you that I wrote this under the influence of tequila...
SOS...send one out or receive one and save someone...
"SOS" by ABBA...or the movie cast...take your pick...this time I like ABBA better...
bye darlings
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
The High Road/The Long Run
"Now" was not today...
If you read yesterday's blog, you know what I am talking about...I didn't get to move the bar...I'm still fighting to get under an increment on the scale...so how soon is "now"?
I don't know...
When I got up this morning I felt sure I was going to go into the bathroom, jump on the scale and MOVE THAT BAR, but nope...not today...
It was so hard to get myself motivated...I feel stuck at this weight and it is going so S-L-O-W-L-Y.
But it is a Spinderella day and I knew that she could get me back on track and feeling fine. I got to the gym early, listened to some music and went in and let Spinderella push me to my limit. And today she did...
Up on the screen she had some wild documentary about extreme skiing playing. The music was cool. But then she unleashed her evil plan to "take us to the next level" and so we had a song to pedal fast to, a song to push hard and climb to (with heavy tension) and one that was in the middle.
We repeated that pattern 3 times...
I've never been so happy to hear her say "back off the tension on your bikes because you are done!"...and then I remembered that I was going to do her short class (30 minutes) after the ab workout. I had just ridden that bike for 45 minutes so why did I want to climb back on?
I want to move the bar...
So I got my second wind and did another 30 minutes...but gave out after 25...I threw up my hands and said "Mercy" and that was that...
This got me thinking...I'm on this journey called my life but I have a lot of roads I have to take...and I have taken many roads. And cycle class and Spinderella are a good analogy (is that the word I am looking for...maybe metaphor?...I was an Agricultural Economics major, not an English major...you can see why).
So spin class is a little like life...sometimes you have a long, flat road that you can just run...easy tension....pedaling fast...but its just fast, not pushing...but it is still hard and you have to keep going even if the road seems to have no end in sight.
Somtimes you have to climb the high road...lots of tension...a lot of work...that hill keeps going up...and sometimes it is really steep. And occasionally, you can see the top...and enjoy the view.
And sometimes that ride is a little bit of a climb on an easy hill...
I've had steep climbs...and I have had long flat roads...in my life and as I try to find my way back to being a healthy, fit woman.
Today felt like a very steep climb...not quite Everest, but at least a small mountain. And I guess it felt that way because I was disappointed this morning when I didn't get to move the bar. So maybe tomorrow I will not weigh myself...
All this mountain climbing is making me dizzy and I don't like heights. I like flat roads---being born and raised in South Texs, flat roads is all I have ever seen.
When I was a kid, my parents took us on one of those "let's get in the station wagon and drive across the country" road trips. It was our own version of "National Lampoon's Vacation" (10 years before it was made). We set out for Montana and Yellowstone National Park with another family (and their station wagon). We had 4 kids in my family at that time...I was the oldest...could't have been much more than 9 or 10. The other family had 4 daughters...their youngest was my age so their other girls were all teenagers.
I was so excited about the prospect of seeing snow...and mountains...and the Mormon Tabernacle and its world-famous Choir. Yes, the Mormon Tabernacle and the Choir. Back then, in the early 70's, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir was always on television. They were on all the Christmas specials, etc. We were going to Salt Lake City. I was going to hear that choir...at least I assumed we would. And I wanted to see the Mormon Tabernacle. Because I wanted to see a tabernacle...if I knew what a teberancle was...
So we set out in our station wagons...our parents had thoughtfully put sleeping bags in the back ends of the station wagons so we could lay down...it was like a huge playpen for us.
And if you are asking "what about seatbelts or carseats", you are obviously way too young to remember the time when everyone rode in the car unrestrained. My sister N liked to stand beside Chale (the most wonderful man...I miss him)in his truck. I sat on the arm rest. It's a wonder we are here...
So unrestrained children in the back of the station wagon, bored teenagers in the middle seats, and 4 parents. One of the teenagers turned out to be the smartest girl in the world---before we set out on the trip she went to the store and bought 2 boxes of DUBBLE BUBBLE BUBBLEGUM. Pink and green apple flavors.
Why was she smart?
As we would ride along and get loud and chatty, she would toss gum to us in the back seat. Being 8, 9, and 10 years old, we loved this...and would stuff the gum into our mouths...never throwing out what we already had in there...so our wads of gum would get larger and larger...and harder to chew...and harder to talk...and we would get quiet and chew the gum. This ruse worked all the way to Utah I think...
I dont' remember much about the stops along the way...we would drive and stop and some sort of motel or motor court each day. I recall a lot of Travelodges.
We got to Salt Lake City....time for that taberancle and the choir!
It seems that I was the only person who had a facination with this...so no, I didn't hear the choir. We did go to Temple Square and saw the Temple (only from the outside since you must be an LDS member to go in...but I remember thinking it was beautiful) and no one wanted to go in to the Tabernacle and let them show us how you could drop a pin in it and hear it all over the building.
I haven't listened to the choir since...except maybe if they were on the "Donny and Marie" show...or Andy Williams Christmas Special...or Perry Como...whatever..
We did go to Yellowstone. I lived in fear of the bears. I threw up at the sulphur springs (from the smell). I loved watching "Old Faithful".
My dad bought a ranch in Montana during that trip. It was such a beautiful place to be. I always say that Montana is proof that God made this world---because only God could concieve of something so beautiful as Montana is. Oh, and we flew home...my dad liked to drive...but only so much...I can't remember how our station wagon (brown with brown fake wood side panels) got home.
A few years ago we took our kids on a similar road trip except that we started in Las Vegas. We spent a few days visiting Zion National Park and Bryce Canyon. We then headed up to Park City for a day or so and then to Montana and Yellowstone...and then back down to Grand Teton and Jackson Hole, back to Park City, and then back to Vegas...so we could over-stimulate our children after they enjoyed all that fresh air and nature.
My kids wanted to climb the high trails and go for long walks in the parks. We had one very long, hours-long (with no water) walk to view the Morning Glory pool in Yellowstone (since it was in the science book). I took a lot of photos. Ke$ha Barbie took a lot too and made a power point slide show for her teacher to show her that she got to see what was in the science book. That teacher teaches with that slide show...we love that teacher...
I wasn't in good shape then...it got worse since...but back then I was still a big fluffy girl who didn't exercise. Walking trails and climbing hills were not in me. Thankfully I did not puke at the sulpher springs this time...but The Cutest Boy in the World ALMOST did...
This year we are considering going back to Zion...and Vegas because my kids LOVE Vegas...go figure...no, seriously, they LOVE Vegas...really! And I am going to take some long walks on the trails...and climb a bit (no mountains, and no big rocks...but I will do trails that go up).
So I'll take that high road...and that long run (walk)...and appreciate all that God has made...
And I'll move that bar....
Inspiration songs:
"The High Road" by Broken Bells...new on my iPhone, came on right before spin class...
Cause they know and so do I.
The high road is hard to find.
A detour to your new life.
"The Long Run" by the Eagles...Spinderella played it for a good hard climb...it contains one of my all-time favorite lyric lines:
Cause all the debutantes in Houston, baby,
couldn't hold a candle to you
So take the long run...and climb the high road...and move that bar...
bye darlings...
If you read yesterday's blog, you know what I am talking about...I didn't get to move the bar...I'm still fighting to get under an increment on the scale...so how soon is "now"?
I don't know...
When I got up this morning I felt sure I was going to go into the bathroom, jump on the scale and MOVE THAT BAR, but nope...not today...
It was so hard to get myself motivated...I feel stuck at this weight and it is going so S-L-O-W-L-Y.
But it is a Spinderella day and I knew that she could get me back on track and feeling fine. I got to the gym early, listened to some music and went in and let Spinderella push me to my limit. And today she did...
Up on the screen she had some wild documentary about extreme skiing playing. The music was cool. But then she unleashed her evil plan to "take us to the next level" and so we had a song to pedal fast to, a song to push hard and climb to (with heavy tension) and one that was in the middle.
We repeated that pattern 3 times...
I've never been so happy to hear her say "back off the tension on your bikes because you are done!"...and then I remembered that I was going to do her short class (30 minutes) after the ab workout. I had just ridden that bike for 45 minutes so why did I want to climb back on?
I want to move the bar...
So I got my second wind and did another 30 minutes...but gave out after 25...I threw up my hands and said "Mercy" and that was that...
This got me thinking...I'm on this journey called my life but I have a lot of roads I have to take...and I have taken many roads. And cycle class and Spinderella are a good analogy (is that the word I am looking for...maybe metaphor?...I was an Agricultural Economics major, not an English major...you can see why).
So spin class is a little like life...sometimes you have a long, flat road that you can just run...easy tension....pedaling fast...but its just fast, not pushing...but it is still hard and you have to keep going even if the road seems to have no end in sight.
Somtimes you have to climb the high road...lots of tension...a lot of work...that hill keeps going up...and sometimes it is really steep. And occasionally, you can see the top...and enjoy the view.
And sometimes that ride is a little bit of a climb on an easy hill...
I've had steep climbs...and I have had long flat roads...in my life and as I try to find my way back to being a healthy, fit woman.
Today felt like a very steep climb...not quite Everest, but at least a small mountain. And I guess it felt that way because I was disappointed this morning when I didn't get to move the bar. So maybe tomorrow I will not weigh myself...
All this mountain climbing is making me dizzy and I don't like heights. I like flat roads---being born and raised in South Texs, flat roads is all I have ever seen.
When I was a kid, my parents took us on one of those "let's get in the station wagon and drive across the country" road trips. It was our own version of "National Lampoon's Vacation" (10 years before it was made). We set out for Montana and Yellowstone National Park with another family (and their station wagon). We had 4 kids in my family at that time...I was the oldest...could't have been much more than 9 or 10. The other family had 4 daughters...their youngest was my age so their other girls were all teenagers.
I was so excited about the prospect of seeing snow...and mountains...and the Mormon Tabernacle and its world-famous Choir. Yes, the Mormon Tabernacle and the Choir. Back then, in the early 70's, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir was always on television. They were on all the Christmas specials, etc. We were going to Salt Lake City. I was going to hear that choir...at least I assumed we would. And I wanted to see the Mormon Tabernacle. Because I wanted to see a tabernacle...if I knew what a teberancle was...
So we set out in our station wagons...our parents had thoughtfully put sleeping bags in the back ends of the station wagons so we could lay down...it was like a huge playpen for us.
And if you are asking "what about seatbelts or carseats", you are obviously way too young to remember the time when everyone rode in the car unrestrained. My sister N liked to stand beside Chale (the most wonderful man...I miss him)in his truck. I sat on the arm rest. It's a wonder we are here...
So unrestrained children in the back of the station wagon, bored teenagers in the middle seats, and 4 parents. One of the teenagers turned out to be the smartest girl in the world---before we set out on the trip she went to the store and bought 2 boxes of DUBBLE BUBBLE BUBBLEGUM. Pink and green apple flavors.
Why was she smart?
As we would ride along and get loud and chatty, she would toss gum to us in the back seat. Being 8, 9, and 10 years old, we loved this...and would stuff the gum into our mouths...never throwing out what we already had in there...so our wads of gum would get larger and larger...and harder to chew...and harder to talk...and we would get quiet and chew the gum. This ruse worked all the way to Utah I think...
I dont' remember much about the stops along the way...we would drive and stop and some sort of motel or motor court each day. I recall a lot of Travelodges.
We got to Salt Lake City....time for that taberancle and the choir!
It seems that I was the only person who had a facination with this...so no, I didn't hear the choir. We did go to Temple Square and saw the Temple (only from the outside since you must be an LDS member to go in...but I remember thinking it was beautiful) and no one wanted to go in to the Tabernacle and let them show us how you could drop a pin in it and hear it all over the building.
I haven't listened to the choir since...except maybe if they were on the "Donny and Marie" show...or Andy Williams Christmas Special...or Perry Como...whatever..
We did go to Yellowstone. I lived in fear of the bears. I threw up at the sulphur springs (from the smell). I loved watching "Old Faithful".
My dad bought a ranch in Montana during that trip. It was such a beautiful place to be. I always say that Montana is proof that God made this world---because only God could concieve of something so beautiful as Montana is. Oh, and we flew home...my dad liked to drive...but only so much...I can't remember how our station wagon (brown with brown fake wood side panels) got home.
A few years ago we took our kids on a similar road trip except that we started in Las Vegas. We spent a few days visiting Zion National Park and Bryce Canyon. We then headed up to Park City for a day or so and then to Montana and Yellowstone...and then back down to Grand Teton and Jackson Hole, back to Park City, and then back to Vegas...so we could over-stimulate our children after they enjoyed all that fresh air and nature.
My kids wanted to climb the high trails and go for long walks in the parks. We had one very long, hours-long (with no water) walk to view the Morning Glory pool in Yellowstone (since it was in the science book). I took a lot of photos. Ke$ha Barbie took a lot too and made a power point slide show for her teacher to show her that she got to see what was in the science book. That teacher teaches with that slide show...we love that teacher...
I wasn't in good shape then...it got worse since...but back then I was still a big fluffy girl who didn't exercise. Walking trails and climbing hills were not in me. Thankfully I did not puke at the sulpher springs this time...but The Cutest Boy in the World ALMOST did...
This year we are considering going back to Zion...and Vegas because my kids LOVE Vegas...go figure...no, seriously, they LOVE Vegas...really! And I am going to take some long walks on the trails...and climb a bit (no mountains, and no big rocks...but I will do trails that go up).
So I'll take that high road...and that long run (walk)...and appreciate all that God has made...
And I'll move that bar....
Inspiration songs:
"The High Road" by Broken Bells...new on my iPhone, came on right before spin class...
Cause they know and so do I.
The high road is hard to find.
A detour to your new life.
"The Long Run" by the Eagles...Spinderella played it for a good hard climb...it contains one of my all-time favorite lyric lines:
Cause all the debutantes in Houston, baby,
couldn't hold a candle to you
So take the long run...and climb the high road...and move that bar...
bye darlings...
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
4 mintues
So I go to Spinderellas spin class today...I love her class and I am always happy when it is Tuesday and I can go and die on an indoor cycle bike. This time I made my sweet friend---let's call her "Sistah" because she is like a little sister to me---come with me.
Now Sistah is about a foot taller than me and she has legs for miles...I'm envious...because these legs aren't just long, they are beautiful, strong, tennis-playing legs. Sistah is a sporty girl...and beautiful...and she can play tennis.
I may belong to the Houston Racquet Club but you will never see me swing a racquet at a ball. Because I am bad at tennis. Hopeless. Awful...
A long time ago when I was in middle school, my mother hired a tennis coach for me and my sisters. I think she really just wanted to date the guy, but in any case we were forced into learning to play tennis. He worked with me a day or two. And then he told my mother she could have her money back because I was never going to be a tennis player. Ever. Hopeless...
How bad to you have to be for a coach to declare that there is no point?
"how awful is Anice at tennis" Part 2:
At camp they didn't even make me play. I got to chase the balls...
So I belong to the HRC as a place to hang out, drink, and work out. And have dinner (the food is...mehhhh...). But not to play tennis.
So Sistah and I spin...45 minutes...15 minutes of abs...and then 30 more minutes of Spinderella making us ride those bikes like we were Lance Armstrong climbing the Alps. Sistah did great and it was her first spin class. I can't wait until she tells me that she can't sit down tomorrow...I didn't mention that part to her...
Today Spinderella showed us Madonna videos as a way to keep our minds off of the fact that we were in brutal pain. Videos from the 90's.
Videos like:
"Bedtime Stories"----very strange...I get wigged out when her eyes become mouths
"Human Nature"---also odd...and all this bondage stuff...
"Ray of Light"---a little crazy
"Take a Bow"---the video that launched a craze for Chanel Vamp nail polish
"the Power of Goodbye"---Goran Visnijic...need I say more?
Conclusion: Madonna is more beautiful as a brunette. JMHO...
So Spinderella has us all on the bikes and she opens the class with "4 minutes"...
And that got me thinking...
what can I do in 4 minutes to save the world...like the song says?
or maybe what can I do in 4 minutes to save myself? But saving the world is more noble...
In light of the week I am having, with my friends losing their son in a tragic accident, I can't help but feel like there is something we can all do to save the world. Or ourselves...or a friend...
4 minutes...not much time...or a lot of time...
In four minutes, I can do a lot for myself...
I can do squats, or bicep curls, or a wall sit, or triceps...
I can brush my teeth (sonicare 2 minutes) and wash my face...
I can put on sunscreen (heaven help me...I love my tan...)
I can heat up some veggies...those little "steam in the bag" things are convenient!
I can use the fancy little bumpy scrubby thing that is supposed to make my cellulite go away....although I suspect that I can stay in the shower and use that thing until the next day and I will still have cellulite, but I bought into the hype...
I can open a bottle of wine and pour a glass (ok, maybe that is not as healthy, but it sure makes me happy)...
I can pet my cat (they say that petting an animal reduces your blood pressure)
I can eat a cup of yogurt (Fage...2%....honey) for the calcium
And I can do things for a friend:
I can send a note or email to thank someone for being my friend (that sounds hokey, but it really is sweet...and think of how much that would mean if someone did that for YOU)
I can pray for someone...we all know people who need our prayers...
OK, I'm not going to get in to all the things we can do for the greater good here because we all know those things...and besides, I had a good bit of red wine (a nice Gigondas) at dinner and I am tired...but you get the picture...
4 minutes is not a lot of time...but we can use it well...and so, I plan to spend that time a little more wisely...
My friend Sistah is a great person...she's a real sweetheart...she is younger than me but I learn from her every day...she has great faith in God, she loves the Lord...and she treats her friends like they are gifts...I am lucky to be one of those friends...she uses 4 minutes well...even on the spin bike...and especially when she is praying for me and being my friend...
use your 4 minutes well...
I'm off to brush my teeth and wash my face...
"4 minutes" by the awesome and amazing Madonna...or the Glee cast version...4 minutes to save the world...or yourself...
bye darlings
Now Sistah is about a foot taller than me and she has legs for miles...I'm envious...because these legs aren't just long, they are beautiful, strong, tennis-playing legs. Sistah is a sporty girl...and beautiful...and she can play tennis.
I may belong to the Houston Racquet Club but you will never see me swing a racquet at a ball. Because I am bad at tennis. Hopeless. Awful...
A long time ago when I was in middle school, my mother hired a tennis coach for me and my sisters. I think she really just wanted to date the guy, but in any case we were forced into learning to play tennis. He worked with me a day or two. And then he told my mother she could have her money back because I was never going to be a tennis player. Ever. Hopeless...
How bad to you have to be for a coach to declare that there is no point?
"how awful is Anice at tennis" Part 2:
At camp they didn't even make me play. I got to chase the balls...
So I belong to the HRC as a place to hang out, drink, and work out. And have dinner (the food is...mehhhh...). But not to play tennis.
So Sistah and I spin...45 minutes...15 minutes of abs...and then 30 more minutes of Spinderella making us ride those bikes like we were Lance Armstrong climbing the Alps. Sistah did great and it was her first spin class. I can't wait until she tells me that she can't sit down tomorrow...I didn't mention that part to her...
Today Spinderella showed us Madonna videos as a way to keep our minds off of the fact that we were in brutal pain. Videos from the 90's.
Videos like:
"Bedtime Stories"----very strange...I get wigged out when her eyes become mouths
"Human Nature"---also odd...and all this bondage stuff...
"Ray of Light"---a little crazy
"Take a Bow"---the video that launched a craze for Chanel Vamp nail polish
"the Power of Goodbye"---Goran Visnijic...need I say more?
Conclusion: Madonna is more beautiful as a brunette. JMHO...
So Spinderella has us all on the bikes and she opens the class with "4 minutes"...
And that got me thinking...
what can I do in 4 minutes to save the world...like the song says?
or maybe what can I do in 4 minutes to save myself? But saving the world is more noble...
In light of the week I am having, with my friends losing their son in a tragic accident, I can't help but feel like there is something we can all do to save the world. Or ourselves...or a friend...
4 minutes...not much time...or a lot of time...
In four minutes, I can do a lot for myself...
I can do squats, or bicep curls, or a wall sit, or triceps...
I can brush my teeth (sonicare 2 minutes) and wash my face...
I can put on sunscreen (heaven help me...I love my tan...)
I can heat up some veggies...those little "steam in the bag" things are convenient!
I can use the fancy little bumpy scrubby thing that is supposed to make my cellulite go away....although I suspect that I can stay in the shower and use that thing until the next day and I will still have cellulite, but I bought into the hype...
I can open a bottle of wine and pour a glass (ok, maybe that is not as healthy, but it sure makes me happy)...
I can pet my cat (they say that petting an animal reduces your blood pressure)
I can eat a cup of yogurt (Fage...2%....honey) for the calcium
And I can do things for a friend:
I can send a note or email to thank someone for being my friend (that sounds hokey, but it really is sweet...and think of how much that would mean if someone did that for YOU)
I can pray for someone...we all know people who need our prayers...
OK, I'm not going to get in to all the things we can do for the greater good here because we all know those things...and besides, I had a good bit of red wine (a nice Gigondas) at dinner and I am tired...but you get the picture...
4 minutes is not a lot of time...but we can use it well...and so, I plan to spend that time a little more wisely...
My friend Sistah is a great person...she's a real sweetheart...she is younger than me but I learn from her every day...she has great faith in God, she loves the Lord...and she treats her friends like they are gifts...I am lucky to be one of those friends...she uses 4 minutes well...even on the spin bike...and especially when she is praying for me and being my friend...
use your 4 minutes well...
I'm off to brush my teeth and wash my face...
"4 minutes" by the awesome and amazing Madonna...or the Glee cast version...4 minutes to save the world...or yourself...
bye darlings
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