I have been super extra-curricular girl this week. On top of my usual gym-going I've also had a riding lesson (awwwwssssome!) and been taking a course in meditation. The second part of the course is tonight and I'm really looking forward to it. It has been SO much more interesting than I expected it to be, despite the fact that I have to sit next to Shirley, and aged chain-smoker with a deep phlegmy cough. Shirley enjoys muttering responses to rhetorical questions, a habit I find punch-worthy. She's friendly though and manages to keep the coughing under check when we meditate, unlike Cathy across the aisle who's cellphone went off TWICE during the abundance meditation. if I come up lacking in abundance I'm going to know who to blame.
So, did you know you can send out broadcast telepathic messages? Like, you can put yourself in an alpha stage and come up with a little speech to attract customers and then decide you will wake up in the middle of the night at a time when those customers are having their last dream or are most open to suggestion. When that happens you mentally project your little commercial out in the universe and then go back to sleep. Seriously, it's brilliant. And a little crazy. But I did actually did it the other night, so if you wake up one morning with a burning desire to buy my jewelry, you'll know why, chump.
Of course, we also learned some relaxation and personal-problem-solving meditations, so it wasn't all about making me rich, though I certainly do like that part of it. The guy who's teaching the course is really interesting and has done past-life regressions which I find fascinating. He told us about some of his past lives and then finished with, "but I'm not really sure I believe in them." Um, dude? You were just a few minutes telling me how to attract business telepathically. Why are you being all squirrelly about past lives? I mean, he PERFORMS path life regression, so he has to think there's some validity to it. I'm totally going to ask him about that tonight. I want answers!
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Friday, July 25, 2008
Who's Annoying Me This Week.
Oh you guys, there's this girl at my gym and I'm afraid I might have to kill her. To back up a bit, I started going to the fancy gym on campus after work to do my weights routine because it's less crowded than the big chain gym I belong to and it's really shiny and new, to boot. I do my free weights and then I do intervals on the stepmill, partially because it's really freaking hard and partially because nobody else is every using it. There are two of them side-by-side and I can always count on having my pick. Until recently.
For the uninitiated, a stepmill is this piece of work:
It's basically a mini staircase. From hell.
Have you ever seen a true Cardio Junkie? They are pretty easy to spot because it's usually the person at the gym who's freaking you out. They are intense. Seriously crazy intense, and usually work out at a pace that's worrisome. The Cardio Junkie is usually whippet thin and frantic. If he/she is in spin class, they're spinning so fast that you worry the flywheel is going to come loose. If they're in a step class, they're two beats ahead of the instructor. It's disturbing to watch and there's one at every gym.
Anyway, recently at the school gym I noticed an interloper on my stepmill. She's a textbook Junkie. Freakishly intense, does more cardio at a faster pace and for longer than anyone should ever do on a stepmill. But fine, you know, whatever. She's an adult and can do what she wants...or that's what I thought until the bitch started sweating all over me.
Let me back up a sec and give you a picture of her: Whippet thin, favors running shorts (rolled at the waist until her ass cheeks are hanging out) and a sports bra. Carries a filthy backpack full of crap that she likes to strew about the floor around the stepmill like it's her middle school bedroom. Has a mini-fan that she sets up on the frame and RUNS on the stepmill while simutaneously reading, hand to God, the New Yorker. OMG. Let me repeat that - she RUNS ON THE STEPMILL. I can barely walk on the thing without falling off, not because I'm not fit but because it's a moving staircase thing three feet off the ground. She's got talent, I'll give her that.
When I arrived at the gym the first time I saw her I noticed her on the stepmill. An hour later when I came down from the weight room to do my intervals she was STILL THERE. And she was sweaty. Really, really sweaty.
I climbed dubiously on the other stepmill and started my intervals and that's when I felt it - droplets of Cardio Freak all over my arm. Now, I'm no OCD anti-bacterial wipe germ freak, but I gotta draw the line at stranger sweat being flung on me. I looked up at her but she was too busy reading the teeny-tiny New Yorker print while lunging up fake stairs to notice. At some point she decided she needed to crank it up a notch and jettisoned the magazine right over the top of the machine so she could really get going. Just flung it to the wind. Holy shit. I spent the rest of my cardio session fantasizing about casually punching her in the face.
Ever since then I've seen her all the damn time and I still really hate her. I hate her garbage strewn over the floor, I hate seeing her bony ass hanging out of her shorts, I just hate. So, when I was on a vacation a few weeks ago and decided to go the gym, I chose the big chain over the school gym just because I didn't want to ruin my mood with my hate. I got to the chain gym and headed for the stepmills and GUESS WHO. MF. That's right, bitch goes to both gyms and is clearly stalking me.
Something must be done.
For the uninitiated, a stepmill is this piece of work:
It's basically a mini staircase. From hell.
Have you ever seen a true Cardio Junkie? They are pretty easy to spot because it's usually the person at the gym who's freaking you out. They are intense. Seriously crazy intense, and usually work out at a pace that's worrisome. The Cardio Junkie is usually whippet thin and frantic. If he/she is in spin class, they're spinning so fast that you worry the flywheel is going to come loose. If they're in a step class, they're two beats ahead of the instructor. It's disturbing to watch and there's one at every gym.
Anyway, recently at the school gym I noticed an interloper on my stepmill. She's a textbook Junkie. Freakishly intense, does more cardio at a faster pace and for longer than anyone should ever do on a stepmill. But fine, you know, whatever. She's an adult and can do what she wants...or that's what I thought until the bitch started sweating all over me.
Let me back up a sec and give you a picture of her: Whippet thin, favors running shorts (rolled at the waist until her ass cheeks are hanging out) and a sports bra. Carries a filthy backpack full of crap that she likes to strew about the floor around the stepmill like it's her middle school bedroom. Has a mini-fan that she sets up on the frame and RUNS on the stepmill while simutaneously reading, hand to God, the New Yorker. OMG. Let me repeat that - she RUNS ON THE STEPMILL. I can barely walk on the thing without falling off, not because I'm not fit but because it's a moving staircase thing three feet off the ground. She's got talent, I'll give her that.
When I arrived at the gym the first time I saw her I noticed her on the stepmill. An hour later when I came down from the weight room to do my intervals she was STILL THERE. And she was sweaty. Really, really sweaty.
I climbed dubiously on the other stepmill and started my intervals and that's when I felt it - droplets of Cardio Freak all over my arm. Now, I'm no OCD anti-bacterial wipe germ freak, but I gotta draw the line at stranger sweat being flung on me. I looked up at her but she was too busy reading the teeny-tiny New Yorker print while lunging up fake stairs to notice. At some point she decided she needed to crank it up a notch and jettisoned the magazine right over the top of the machine so she could really get going. Just flung it to the wind. Holy shit. I spent the rest of my cardio session fantasizing about casually punching her in the face.
Ever since then I've seen her all the damn time and I still really hate her. I hate her garbage strewn over the floor, I hate seeing her bony ass hanging out of her shorts, I just hate. So, when I was on a vacation a few weeks ago and decided to go the gym, I chose the big chain over the school gym just because I didn't want to ruin my mood with my hate. I got to the chain gym and headed for the stepmills and GUESS WHO. MF. That's right, bitch goes to both gyms and is clearly stalking me.
Something must be done.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
The Secret to my Success
I have been on time for work for a solid week now. EVERY DAY ON TIME. If you're reading this and thinking, "How does she do it?" don't worry, I'm going to tell you right now:
I started getting up fifteen minutes earlier.
I KNOW. I should patent it right now before someone steals my idea and makes a million dollars. Seriously, though, I got really tired of trying to make the seven mile drive to work in five minutes instead of fifteen because do you even know the kind of road rage that causes? I had to load some Bob Marley on my iPod just to chill me out when I got stuck behind the person going just under the speed limit again.
So, I started getting up earlier, taking my shower before Kenny gets up, and then joining him for the breakfast he's kind enough to make for me. Then I have nearly an hour to get dress and primped, pack my lunch, feed the cats, lint roll my ass, and find my keys before I leave. Yesterday I had so much extra time that I walked around our backyard (which looked like a freaking Disney woodland - hi bunnies, chipmunks, and birds!) for a few minutes. Nice!
This morning I actually woke up at 4am, but not on purpose. I dreamt that I flipped over one of my pillows and a nest of baby spiders boiled out from under it and swarmed my bed. The dream isn't what woke me up so much as my leaping out of bed screaming is. Not a grand way to start the day. I took a pee break and then checked the bed carefully for spiders before falling back asleep...just to dream there was a giant centipede in the bathroom. GREAT. NOW WE HAVE TO MOVE.
I started getting up fifteen minutes earlier.
I KNOW. I should patent it right now before someone steals my idea and makes a million dollars. Seriously, though, I got really tired of trying to make the seven mile drive to work in five minutes instead of fifteen because do you even know the kind of road rage that causes? I had to load some Bob Marley on my iPod just to chill me out when I got stuck behind the person going just under the speed limit again.
So, I started getting up earlier, taking my shower before Kenny gets up, and then joining him for the breakfast he's kind enough to make for me. Then I have nearly an hour to get dress and primped, pack my lunch, feed the cats, lint roll my ass, and find my keys before I leave. Yesterday I had so much extra time that I walked around our backyard (which looked like a freaking Disney woodland - hi bunnies, chipmunks, and birds!) for a few minutes. Nice!
This morning I actually woke up at 4am, but not on purpose. I dreamt that I flipped over one of my pillows and a nest of baby spiders boiled out from under it and swarmed my bed. The dream isn't what woke me up so much as my leaping out of bed screaming is. Not a grand way to start the day. I took a pee break and then checked the bed carefully for spiders before falling back asleep...just to dream there was a giant centipede in the bathroom. GREAT. NOW WE HAVE TO MOVE.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Stop! PONY TIME.
Last Wednesday I spent one of the happiest hours of my week out riding with my friend Nina. I think I posted before about the Super Happy Fun Time I had the last time we went out and now I'm going to be going twice a month. Even though I'm now apparently allergic to horses (or hay or something farm-y) and break out into welts by the time I get home, the experience is worth it's weight in Benedryl. It totally is so AWEWSSOEMmMme. Totally. I took my camera with me last week and took pictures and everything. I really wish I was a better, more patient photographer, but whatever, you get what you get.
The riding part is fun, but the best part is just being around the horses. We get to fetch them out of the field, brush them, saddle them up and last week we gave our horses baths afterwards. It is all so sastisfying.
Okay, enough blather, on with the pictures!
barn cat:
My man Ticket, waiting to be groomed:
Look how happy we are! From left to right: Hershey, Nina, Me, Ticket:
Ticket looks grumpy, but he's a sweet fellow.
Here's Nina with Hershey after our ride:
The view from the barn:
Nina walking Hershey out after his bath:
This is what happens when you don't bring enough carrots for everyone:
Bye Ticket! See you in two weeks.
The End.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Internet Dork Camp, IV
I got up early on Thursday with the intention of leaving super-early. That never actually works out for me, but I always fall for it. I ate breakfast and packed up the car with my suitcase, books on tape, road snacks and pounds of bulk candy. I gassed up and headed for Knoxville half an hour later than I meant to. Only 400ish miles away!
I spent a fair amount of time during the morning torturing myself with the snacks. Was 9am too early for candy? How about 9:15? 9:20? I think I managed to hold off until 10:30 before I cracked.
The trip was pretty uneventful, but, as promised, I stopped for lunch at Dude's:
It was definitely worth the (very small) detour and was much much tastier than your average fast food. Back on the road I almost crashed trying to take a photo of a vanity plate that read BLEZZED. I did get a photo but it didn't come out very well. Actually, most of my photos look like shit - when uploaded them that there was a giant fingerprint smudge on the lens. Soft focus! But only on the left side! Luckily Marianne has a really nice camera and agreed to let me steal a bunch of her photos for blog usage.
I arrived safely in Knoxville and spent the next four days being a complete lump of lazy, lazy ass. It was fantastic. There were five of us, a whole lot of food and booze, and a really cute boat. We were set.
I love that we're all readers and spent lots of quality time together reading:
And eating, playing games, and sitting on our asses:
We also read a grand selection of tabloids which we'd pass around the table when we were finished. Watching each person's reaction to this photo of Matt Damon was pretty funny, if watching your friend's hearts being broken one at a time could be considered funny. Oh, Matt. WHY.
We spent a lot of time on the boat, drinking, running into debris, taking turns driving, swimming, floating, laughing at the bevy small panicked boys being towed on a ski weenie. Overheard:
"DIDDY DO A DONUT DON'T DO A DONUT DO A DONUT DIDDY DON'T DO A DONUT!!!!!!"
Awesome! It's more fun if you yell it in a high-pitched voice to someone standing nearby.
We napped, we played games, we drank, we read, we got punchy. Our friend Meg sent some super-creepy clown toothpick things so we made sure they got in on the action:
Just to be consistent, we blew out the bathroom again. (Or, rather, I did.)
And since certain husbands keep asking, DUH. OF COURSE WE HAD PILLOW FIGHTS.
And then the glorious weekend was over. But, I had a whole week off with my husband to look forward to, and that was great too. Now I'm back to my real life, with its desk job and portion control. le sigh.
I spent a fair amount of time during the morning torturing myself with the snacks. Was 9am too early for candy? How about 9:15? 9:20? I think I managed to hold off until 10:30 before I cracked.
The trip was pretty uneventful, but, as promised, I stopped for lunch at Dude's:
It was definitely worth the (very small) detour and was much much tastier than your average fast food. Back on the road I almost crashed trying to take a photo of a vanity plate that read BLEZZED. I did get a photo but it didn't come out very well. Actually, most of my photos look like shit - when uploaded them that there was a giant fingerprint smudge on the lens. Soft focus! But only on the left side! Luckily Marianne has a really nice camera and agreed to let me steal a bunch of her photos for blog usage.
I arrived safely in Knoxville and spent the next four days being a complete lump of lazy, lazy ass. It was fantastic. There were five of us, a whole lot of food and booze, and a really cute boat. We were set.
I love that we're all readers and spent lots of quality time together reading:
And eating, playing games, and sitting on our asses:
We also read a grand selection of tabloids which we'd pass around the table when we were finished. Watching each person's reaction to this photo of Matt Damon was pretty funny, if watching your friend's hearts being broken one at a time could be considered funny. Oh, Matt. WHY.
We spent a lot of time on the boat, drinking, running into debris, taking turns driving, swimming, floating, laughing at the bevy small panicked boys being towed on a ski weenie. Overheard:
"DIDDY DO A DONUT DON'T DO A DONUT DO A DONUT DIDDY DON'T DO A DONUT!!!!!!"
Awesome! It's more fun if you yell it in a high-pitched voice to someone standing nearby.
We napped, we played games, we drank, we read, we got punchy. Our friend Meg sent some super-creepy clown toothpick things so we made sure they got in on the action:
Just to be consistent, we blew out the bathroom again. (Or, rather, I did.)
And since certain husbands keep asking, DUH. OF COURSE WE HAD PILLOW FIGHTS.
And then the glorious weekend was over. But, I had a whole week off with my husband to look forward to, and that was great too. Now I'm back to my real life, with its desk job and portion control. le sigh.
I miss you guys.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Leisure Rules
I'm back from vacation and it's hateful, y'all. Just hateful. It's rainy and dank and so very Monday I can barely stand it. It makes me want to climb up on my desk, shout, "goodbye cruel world!" and leap to my death. Or, since my desk is three feet off the ground, leap to my pain. (If I weren't afraid of heights I might actually consider something higher than my desk, but you work with what you have.)
Sucks. I had such a good vacation and I have tons and tons of photos from Internet Dork Camp, IV. (It'll take me a few days to get it all written up, so bear with me on that.) I returned from Knoxville last Monday and spent the rest of the week with Kenny doing whatever the hell we wanted to do. We slept in, we ate out (a lot), we went to the movies, we mountain biked. Basically, we had a fine time not being at work. One thing I can say for myself, I am GOOD at not working. If I ever won the lottery I would not only not be one of those people who keep their job, I wouldn't even call in. I'd just stop going. And I like my job! I very much do. I just like not working more. For example:
Someone on a forum where I post posed the following question: If you were given a million dollars to start a business what would you do? Everyone else had very grand (and worthy) ideas but all I could think was, "can I just invest it and live off the interest? Does that count? Can the business be called Amblus Wants a Pony, Inc.?"
In all seriousness, I'd probably just use a bit of the money to bump up Keen Designs (I'd get a proper jewelry studio to start) but I just don't know how much of the business part I'd want to do. You can hire people for the boring parts, I suppose. Or maybe I'd just take a "buying" trip. Around the world. To really nice places. Like Switzerland. And Greece.
Is there a support group for the terminally lazy?
Sucks. I had such a good vacation and I have tons and tons of photos from Internet Dork Camp, IV. (It'll take me a few days to get it all written up, so bear with me on that.) I returned from Knoxville last Monday and spent the rest of the week with Kenny doing whatever the hell we wanted to do. We slept in, we ate out (a lot), we went to the movies, we mountain biked. Basically, we had a fine time not being at work. One thing I can say for myself, I am GOOD at not working. If I ever won the lottery I would not only not be one of those people who keep their job, I wouldn't even call in. I'd just stop going. And I like my job! I very much do. I just like not working more. For example:
Someone on a forum where I post posed the following question: If you were given a million dollars to start a business what would you do? Everyone else had very grand (and worthy) ideas but all I could think was, "can I just invest it and live off the interest? Does that count? Can the business be called Amblus Wants a Pony, Inc.?"
In all seriousness, I'd probably just use a bit of the money to bump up Keen Designs (I'd get a proper jewelry studio to start) but I just don't know how much of the business part I'd want to do. You can hire people for the boring parts, I suppose. Or maybe I'd just take a "buying" trip. Around the world. To really nice places. Like Switzerland. And Greece.
Is there a support group for the terminally lazy?
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
I'm Going The Distance.
I'm at the vacation starting gate and I'm waiting waiting waiting waiting for that bell to ding. WAITING FOR THE DING.
Tomorrow at this time I'll be halfway to Knoxville for the 4th annual Internet Dork Camp. This isn't real camp or even "camp" (in the way of "bible" or "science"), instead it's a bunch of cool women, a lake cabin, and a LOT of booze. Fun will be had by all! I'm so excited I'm about to pee myself.
Last year's camp adventures were documented here and here and the year before can be found here. JELUS? You should be, it's awesome. Here's the cabin:
RIGHT? Glorious! God, I am so antsy and ready to get out of here and start packing and stuff. Speaking of packing, it's a pretty long drive from Richmond to Knoxville and a long drive requires a lot of stuff. Stuff like:
- a full iPod
- books on tape
- candy
- non-candy snacks
- bottled water
- a stack of CDs for when I use up my iPod
- did I mention candy?
- CANDY
Last year during the drive I wanted something decent for lunch so I held out and kept driving until I was ready to chew my own arm off. I finally admitted defeat and stopped at the world's grossest Burger King. Never again! This year I wised up and checked out roadfood.com for somewhere more fabulous to eat. And I found it, y'all. Dude's Drive In. I KNOW. Roadside manna! I'm going to take pictures and document the whole experience, just for you.
So, that's all for now. I'm leaving tomorrow morning and will be back next Monday, chock full of Dork Camp tales.
Tomorrow at this time I'll be halfway to Knoxville for the 4th annual Internet Dork Camp. This isn't real camp or even "camp" (in the way of "bible" or "science"), instead it's a bunch of cool women, a lake cabin, and a LOT of booze. Fun will be had by all! I'm so excited I'm about to pee myself.
Last year's camp adventures were documented here and here and the year before can be found here. JELUS? You should be, it's awesome. Here's the cabin:
RIGHT? Glorious! God, I am so antsy and ready to get out of here and start packing and stuff. Speaking of packing, it's a pretty long drive from Richmond to Knoxville and a long drive requires a lot of stuff. Stuff like:
- a full iPod
- books on tape
- candy
- non-candy snacks
- bottled water
- a stack of CDs for when I use up my iPod
- did I mention candy?
- CANDY
Last year during the drive I wanted something decent for lunch so I held out and kept driving until I was ready to chew my own arm off. I finally admitted defeat and stopped at the world's grossest Burger King. Never again! This year I wised up and checked out roadfood.com for somewhere more fabulous to eat. And I found it, y'all. Dude's Drive In. I KNOW. Roadside manna! I'm going to take pictures and document the whole experience, just for you.
So, that's all for now. I'm leaving tomorrow morning and will be back next Monday, chock full of Dork Camp tales.
(ding!)
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