Sue posted something today that enabled me to come to terms with a few things I have been struggling with: No matter what has happened, what choices I have made, I was meant to be here - right now.
I carry a great deal of guilt in my life over certain things that have happened. My penchant for getting into annoying scrapes that would better suit a sit-com than real life is only part of my "charm." I caused some major damage in my own ancient history. Everything from hurting other people, to myself.
Looking back, I don't know why I didn't snap out of it and behave more like a sensible person should... About ANYTHING. I mean, wholly crap, I was an idiot!
I think the worst part of being so incredibly stupid is looking back and wishing you could call up certain people and say "#1 I'm SO freakin' sorry, you have no idea - even though I know that's not enough, and #2 - See??! I did grow up, and change." (and yes, I have tried apologizing to a few people - and you know what I have learned? You can't ever go back and say you are sorry without causing more problems, even for the smallest infractions. They never wanted to hear from you again anyway, were hoping you were dead, and showing up with a pulse did NOT make their day any better.)
Of course, I now know I will look back and say "OMG I was so stupid when I was 31!" And the cycle of life moves forward.
The one solid truth in all of this is that I am meant to be here right now. I know, there are people who don't believe in God, or Fate, or Karma, what have you. But for me, I think there is something bigger at work. I believe in a Higher Power, one that is as of yet undefined (probably can't ever be, ya know.. The whole higher power thing...) I believe in Karma (cause man, I have SO gotten nailed by that on a semi-regular basis), and I believe in a type of Fate.
I do not believe that my fate is written, like I have some sort of destiny where I need to go riding off to some remote forest and pull a mop out of a bucket of stone and rule in peace forever more. But I believe in a path. Multiple ones, actually. I also believe in a destination, the whole "all roads lead to Rome" sort of thing. Maybe you took one path or another, but the point is to make it to the end of it, and yes, they all lead to where you are supposed to be.
The choice is always mine. It always has been. So yes, everything that ever went wrong is my own fault. But that doesn't mean I shouldn't be where I am today. I think the best example of this is my choice about college when I turned 18.
My senior year of highschool I was staring down a scholarship to the Chicago institute of art. However, I never even let them finish speaking to me. Oh, no - I was already dazzled by one to study in Paris. FRANCE. F-R-A-N-C-E!!! Out of all the crap going wrong in my life, the possibility of a fairytale ending started to sparkle in the darkness. I mean, Paris! Lunch under the Eiffel Tower. Sketching at the Louvre. Pretending to drink coffee (I can't stand the stuff) at some quaint cafe. PARIS! I walked around like that for months, thinking about everything I was going to do, slamming into walls because I was daydreaming about trying on a beret.
All that came crashing down when my mother was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis (she woke up one day and her entire left side was paralyzed.) She solidly put her foot down and said no to Paris (even though it wouldn't cost them anything, but the college stipulated I was a minor and subjected to parental approval until 22.) Me, in my shining example of pure brainless stupidity, then said to myself "if I can't go there, I guess I can't go anywhere," and I moved in with the only person stupider than *I* was - my boyfriend (not my DH.)
I wasn't throwing a tantrum, I really felt/thought that I had no options at all. I know I am not the most brilliant person in the chicken coop, but I should have known that there were other choices open to me.
So what happened? I never went to a four year college. I never lived in the dorms, or made new friends, or studied for finals while plotting the death of my roommate. Maybe that all seems like a small and petty thing to everyone else. But, you have NO idea how much I regret not getting to go out and find myself in school, and in the "pretend-world" of college. No amount of other people telling me it wasn't worth it, or what have you will ever fill that void - something I had looked forward to my whole life, and now cannot ever get back.
I made a choice. No matter how stupid it may seem, it was what I chose.
Regret aside. You have to look at every choice not only for what you lost, but for what you gained. Had I gone to Paris, or even the state college, I would not be here today. I would wager my meager fortune (I found three quarters in the laundry today) on it. I would not have my two perfect children who I love more than life itself. I would, in all likelihood, not even be married. How different my life would have been, and how empty.
I look at my children and know that I am meant to be here, just as they always were. I may not be happy with where I am at, but I know I am supposed to be here at this very moment trying to figure out which path to take next. I may, or may not have been "meant" to go to college back then, but I firmly believe that I was intended to end up here. I have this solid feeling about how far I have come, down deep inside, that tells me this is supposed to be.
The partner to that feeling is the one that says maybe I'm not perfectly comfortable, because I still have a long ways yet to go. But that is ok. If I am at the end of my path, I'm in bigger trouble than where I have been, dontcha think? I think that voice saying there is something better I can do or be, that one gets confused with the one that tells me I should have been more.
That last one is just me. I should have been more. I should have been better. I should have been thinner. I should have been stronger. I should have been quieter. I should have been louder. I should have been more successful. Those should have beens sometimes turn into I should BE's, and that's even worse. Because if I suck now, and I should have been better before, how am I ever going to catch up?
THIS is the voice I need to ignore. Because with all it's fancy talking and should have been's, what it's really saying is that I'll never be good enough, no matter what I do. In defense, I curl up and focus on insignificant stuff like my weight.
My WEIGHT!??!!? My weight doesn't make me a better person. My weight doesn't make me love my kids more or less. My weight doesn't fix or damage a marriage. My weight doesn't have a damn thing to do with any of this.
Folks, weight is like popcorn at a movie. The MOVIE is the point, and the popcorn is there to distract you - especially if you are losing interest in the movie. The popcorn doesn't improve the content. It doesn't take away from it, if you skip it. It's just something to DO during the movie. Well, this movie is your LIFE - do you really want to miss it in favor of the popcorn???
You wouldn't keep going to a BAD movie just to eat the popcorn, so you shouldn't turn your focus on your weight when your life decides to bitchslap you. Binge or starve, it isn't the answer - it's just fluff. Distracting fluff. Filler fluff. But your whole life shouldn't be about fluff. You can change that.
Now, I am not advocating pitching your healthy lifestyle over your head and diving into the Twinkies. That would simply be trading your popcorn for jujubees. Part of paying attention to where you are now and moving forward is making sure you take the best step possible that you can with all the information you have.
If you are working on a healthy lifestyle, it's because you have learned that the old one wasn't working and how much better off you are with the new one (struggle though it may be.) You cannot throw away valuable information and lessons learned. You have to incorporate them into who you are now, and who you want to be. They're the next steps on your path, and it is before your feet at this very moment. It's up to you whether you take a step onto solid ground, or stumble and fall.
If you fall, it's because you needed to. There is something you haven't learned yet. There is a reason for you to be on your knees, swearing at the ground. But you won't ever stand back up if you don't figure out what brought you down in the first place. You are where you need to be - RIGHT NOW - even if it's with your nose in the dirt. You simply need to acknowledge that, and then figure out why.
Choices are made every day. We're moving forward whether we like it or not. The path may end up bumpy or smooth, but who knows? The point is, you are supposed to be on it. You are supposed to make mistakes. You are supposed to learn. You are supposed to be where you are at, not in spite of what has come before, but because of what has come before. Because it's where you needed to go, where you need to be, and what you need to make your next choice and take the next step.
Regrets are not useful. Shifting our focus to the wrong things can actually be harmful. Whether these things are in the past as regrets, or current torments like our weight or our jobs, they're not things worth clinging to. They're not MEANT to be held onto. They're lessons that were meant to be learned, to give you the knowledge to move on to something else.
It's time to let go. To move on. To leave behind the regret, and keep the hard won knowledge the mistakes yielded us. To ignore the desire to focus on the evidence of our errors, and to make the best choices we can remembering what we have been taught so we can progress forward. To understand that we are right where we are supposed to be, right now.
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Let The Thunder Roll
I haven't been sleeping well lately. Right now, the levels of stress in the house are completely maxxed out (for example, today Mr. Rocket Scientist flies to Colorado for a job interview.) Due to all of the stress, I have developed a twitch in my right eye, and a tendency to sit on the very edge of my emotions.
This is, of course, an extremely helpful affliction to have when you have two young children. Two young children who are bored out of their minds on Summer break. Two young children who are bored out of their minds on summer break, and it's raining outside. Two young children who are bored out of their minds on summer break, it's raining outside, but still 85 degrees and miserable, with no air conditioning.
Yes, I expect my nomination for Mother Of The Year any day now.
As usual, I didn't sleep well last night. I was tossing and turning for most of it, especially since hubby and I had a rather heated fight a bit earlier, with no real resolution. I did, however, manage to finally fall into a decent snooze at about 3 AM.
It was 4:13AM when the sound of a freight train being dropped from orbit ricocheted through the house. The windows vibrated, the vases on the shelf shook. My courageous 100+ lbs Labrador launched himself into bed with (ON) me, the Lhasa Apso was not far behind, and two kids screamed out "MOooooooOOOOOOOOooooooooooOOOOOOOMMMMYYYYYY!!!!" in terror.
And Mr. Rocket Scientist slept on.
Max (Labrador - AKA hulking black giant quivering cowardly mass of slobber) was trying to decide whether to hide under me or on top of me, thus crushing me in the process. Cosmo was nose to nose with me, I think looking for assurance that everything was fine - though I think it was more because Max was acting like a lunatic, than the thunder. I was trying to decide how long I could hold out before the oxygen deprivation resulted in unconsciousness, and how to lift Max away so I could get to the kids who were still screaming for me.
And Mr. Rocket Scientist slept on.
I managed my escape by allowing myself to be squeezed out the side of the bed and falling to the floor (because Max was square on my right foot.) Cosmo trotted over to the edge of the bed to peek over and give me a look that said "you're an idiot" to which I glared back and told him to stuff it. It was then that I noticed that the bed was shaking like we had put a quarter into it, and my foot was finally released. Max was shaking in terror, and had decided to cram in next to hubby, and shove his head under the pillows (I'm starting to wonder if he was an ostridge in a past life.)
And Mr. Rocket Scientist slept on.
More thunder and lightning. More children screaming. I got up and went after them, because what they really wanted was to be retrieved from their beds and brought to mine (it is daylight at 4 AM here, heaven forbid they could walk the 10 feet to my bedroom.) I brought both kids to my bed, and they both dove under the covers, in between the dogs, against hubby.
And Mr. Rocket Scientist slept on.
Since I had been up so late, and I knew hubby wasn't going to work out today, I had already planned to do my workout at 6 AM. So, I squeezed into bed and tried to go back to sleep. I tried to go back to sleep in a bed with a man snoring his heart out, an eight year old, a five year old, a 100+ lbs cowardly Labrador, and a small moppet of a dog with sleep ADD (he sleeps for 2 minutes, then rolls over. He sleeps for another few minutes, then gets up and turns around. He sleeps for another few minutes, then rolls on his back...)
If ever you needed documented proof that I'm stupid, there you have it.
That lasted about five minutes before my brain mentally rolled it's eyes at me and said "Oh, just get your ass out of bed. Take the freak-lightning storm as a sign, you moron!" So, I did. I got up, dressed in my spandex as quietly as possible, since everyone was asleep now but me.
I was about to leave the room, when Mr. Rocket Scientist lifts his head up and says "You're up early, not tired? Have a good work out, then." Then laid back and was promptly back asleep in all of two seconds.
(I cannot throw anything at him, our kids are in the bed.....I cannot throw anything at him, our kids are in the bed.....I cannot throw anything at him, our kids are in the bed.....)
Yep, NOW I was motivated to go workout. Hell, maybe I'll even hang the punching bag back up. I've been meaning to do that. (mental note, breathing fire at 4:30AM is not the best way to start your morning off.)
Yesterday I conned my daughter into doing the P90X Yoga with me (ok, she watched, chatted, was generally really annoying until we got to a move she liked, then she twisted herself into a pretzel that would make a contortionist proud and started chanting "mommy! Lookie mommy! Why can't you do better than that?") I managed to semi-tune her out and make it through the whole 93 minute routine, though I could have sworn it lasted five hours. During it, I realized I was doing better. My flexibility really has improved! With my legs straight, feet flexed, I can lean all the way over and lace my fingers together across the heels/bottoms of my feet. I swear, only a week ago I was resting my hands on my ankles instead.
All sense of accomplishment was banished this morning however, as I had my ego handed to me on a platter. This morning was legs/back. Seriously, I was back to being able to only do one unassisted pullup, and having to use an assist (a chair about 3 feet in front of you, resting the toes of one leg on it) for all the rest. I'm not entirely certain I can lift anything over my head right now.
Probably a good thing... Or I might not be able to control the urge to throttle a certain someone.
This is, of course, an extremely helpful affliction to have when you have two young children. Two young children who are bored out of their minds on Summer break. Two young children who are bored out of their minds on summer break, and it's raining outside. Two young children who are bored out of their minds on summer break, it's raining outside, but still 85 degrees and miserable, with no air conditioning.
Yes, I expect my nomination for Mother Of The Year any day now.
As usual, I didn't sleep well last night. I was tossing and turning for most of it, especially since hubby and I had a rather heated fight a bit earlier, with no real resolution. I did, however, manage to finally fall into a decent snooze at about 3 AM.
It was 4:13AM when the sound of a freight train being dropped from orbit ricocheted through the house. The windows vibrated, the vases on the shelf shook. My courageous 100+ lbs Labrador launched himself into bed with (ON) me, the Lhasa Apso was not far behind, and two kids screamed out "MOooooooOOOOOOOOooooooooooOOOOOOOMMMMYYYYYY!!!!" in terror.
And Mr. Rocket Scientist slept on.
Max (Labrador - AKA hulking black giant quivering cowardly mass of slobber) was trying to decide whether to hide under me or on top of me, thus crushing me in the process. Cosmo was nose to nose with me, I think looking for assurance that everything was fine - though I think it was more because Max was acting like a lunatic, than the thunder. I was trying to decide how long I could hold out before the oxygen deprivation resulted in unconsciousness, and how to lift Max away so I could get to the kids who were still screaming for me.And Mr. Rocket Scientist slept on.
I managed my escape by allowing myself to be squeezed out the side of the bed and falling to the floor (because Max was square on my right foot.) Cosmo trotted over to the edge of the bed to peek over and give me a look that said "you're an idiot" to which I glared back and told him to stuff it. It was then that I noticed that the bed was shaking like we had put a quarter into it, and my foot was finally released. Max was shaking in terror, and had decided to cram in next to hubby, and shove his head under the pillows (I'm starting to wonder if he was an ostridge in a past life.)
And Mr. Rocket Scientist slept on.
More thunder and lightning. More children screaming. I got up and went after them, because what they really wanted was to be retrieved from their beds and brought to mine (it is daylight at 4 AM here, heaven forbid they could walk the 10 feet to my bedroom.) I brought both kids to my bed, and they both dove under the covers, in between the dogs, against hubby.
And Mr. Rocket Scientist slept on.
Since I had been up so late, and I knew hubby wasn't going to work out today, I had already planned to do my workout at 6 AM. So, I squeezed into bed and tried to go back to sleep. I tried to go back to sleep in a bed with a man snoring his heart out, an eight year old, a five year old, a 100+ lbs cowardly Labrador, and a small moppet of a dog with sleep ADD (he sleeps for 2 minutes, then rolls over. He sleeps for another few minutes, then gets up and turns around. He sleeps for another few minutes, then rolls on his back...)
If ever you needed documented proof that I'm stupid, there you have it.
That lasted about five minutes before my brain mentally rolled it's eyes at me and said "Oh, just get your ass out of bed. Take the freak-lightning storm as a sign, you moron!" So, I did. I got up, dressed in my spandex as quietly as possible, since everyone was asleep now but me.
I was about to leave the room, when Mr. Rocket Scientist lifts his head up and says "You're up early, not tired? Have a good work out, then." Then laid back and was promptly back asleep in all of two seconds.
(I cannot throw anything at him, our kids are in the bed.....I cannot throw anything at him, our kids are in the bed.....I cannot throw anything at him, our kids are in the bed.....)
Yep, NOW I was motivated to go workout. Hell, maybe I'll even hang the punching bag back up. I've been meaning to do that. (mental note, breathing fire at 4:30AM is not the best way to start your morning off.)
Yesterday I conned my daughter into doing the P90X Yoga with me (ok, she watched, chatted, was generally really annoying until we got to a move she liked, then she twisted herself into a pretzel that would make a contortionist proud and started chanting "mommy! Lookie mommy! Why can't you do better than that?") I managed to semi-tune her out and make it through the whole 93 minute routine, though I could have sworn it lasted five hours. During it, I realized I was doing better. My flexibility really has improved! With my legs straight, feet flexed, I can lean all the way over and lace my fingers together across the heels/bottoms of my feet. I swear, only a week ago I was resting my hands on my ankles instead.
All sense of accomplishment was banished this morning however, as I had my ego handed to me on a platter. This morning was legs/back. Seriously, I was back to being able to only do one unassisted pullup, and having to use an assist (a chair about 3 feet in front of you, resting the toes of one leg on it) for all the rest. I'm not entirely certain I can lift anything over my head right now.
Probably a good thing... Or I might not be able to control the urge to throttle a certain someone.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Challengers, UP!
Yes, it's time! Time to issue another challenge. This is happening on Pink Dumbbells. Yes, it's a free site. Yes, I'm hosting the challenge. Yes, all are welcome. No, I won't be publicly flogging anyone (I don't think, anyway...) No, you don't have to be following anything specific like anyone else, it's up to you to establish your own plan of attack and then stick to it. You can check out the details below.
Anyone game?
Here's the deal:
1) You must write up and establish your game plan for the month of July, with food parameters and exercise parameters.
2) There must be a reasonable goal in mind, like "lose 4 lbs" "run 3 miles without stopping" whatever your aim is, find a target to hit by the end of July.
3) You must have a personal goal to accomplish beyond weight/fitness. Even if it's small like "spring clean my kitchen" - just something you otherwise would put off, but wish you would do. It can be big too - like register for college, start looking for a new job, whatever....
4) You must try a new food once per week. Something you haven't tried before. A new fruit or vegetable or recipe, share it with us and your review on it.
5) There will, as always, be mini-challenges sporadically through the official challenge. As always, optional... But I triple-dog-dare you! (Yes, I'm a slave-driver. Learn to love me!)
6) Yes, everyone has summer plans that are coming up. I want you to work with them and establish a game plan for them, so you can succeed regardless!
So, any takers???? If so, CLICK HERE! Come join the insan....er...The party!
_____________________________________________________
Obviously, I am in! So here is my plan:
Program: P90X/BFL style nutrition
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Program: P90X/BFL style nutrition
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Goals:
* Reach a scale weight of 167 lbs or less (this might be ambitious considering where I am at, but I'm going for it!)
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Workout Plan:
* P90X Lean program - I'll be in phase 2 and part of phase 3 during this.
* Forza Sword Training, a minimum of 1 time per week.
* Saturday is my rest day.
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Nutrition Plan:
- Eat 5-6 small meals a day at an average of 1200-1500 calories per day.
- no eating after 7PM.
- Cheatmeal to be allowed on Saturdays, but these can be moved to accommodate celebrations. This day must still be at no more than a "maintenance" level of calories. i.e. No bingeing.
- Drink 120 oz of water per day.
- Take standard supplements each day.
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Tracking:
- dietpower. Every.... Single....freakin.... day...
- Measurements taken only at the beginning and end of the challenge.
- weigh in every three days
- BF% every Saturday
- photo at the start and end.
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Extra Personal Challenge
- Finish all back-stacked paintings. (And I will, DAMMIT! ARGH!!!!! Those stupid church paintings are tormenting me even in my sleep now!)
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Starting Stats will be taken on Saturday.
*Weight =
*Measurements =
*Body Fat% (omron) =
*Body Fat% (omron) =
I'm Defective
As far as stereotypical girls go, I am lacking a few pertinent genes. It's entirely possible my mother kept them all to herself.
Growing up, my mother did in-home daycare for about eight kids (ok, just typing that makes my left eye twitch), then went to school to be a nurse for children's hospital while I was still in gradeschool. She was a wiz at sewing, enough so that I didn't mind that my clothes weren't just like everyone else's - they were COOLER! She went and got her hair and nails done on a regular basis. She could cook meals for 30 at the drop of a hat, and be gracious the entire time, AND keep her house clean (all things I seem to be completely incapable of.) Even the little things, like the way she held her water glass were very feminine.
Now she has turned into the happy, sewing, cookies and cream grandmother. She made a dress for my daughter and her DOLL recently, which of course fit perfectly, even though both were in another state, and without measurements. She does stuff like this, even though she has advanced multiple sclerosis.
Growing up, I didn't spend time on clothes or nails or sewing. In kindergarten I had a plastic snap-box that was to hold all my crayons, pencils and siscors. Instead, I used it to catch a ton of "nickel-Frogs" (they're about the size of a nickel, and are around in the MILLIONS in Colorado ponds, and who cares that you have to wade knee deep into a mud-pit to get them!) It turns out that those suckers die pretty quickly in crayon boxes (about 6 hours), AND that they don't like pizza crusts. I think the spanking, then subsequent grounding for the hundreds of dead frogs in my room was about two weeks, in all.
I couldn't play Barbies with the other girls. They were all into making their Barbies grow up and have babies and vacuum... VACUUM! *banging head on wall* Come ON! And besides, they all lacked imagination. My Barbies were career women, and I think one was even a Navy Seal. She was often to be found hanging from the second story window on a secret mission, or thirty feet up in a tree scouting out the area.
I will say that I attempted (was forced to attempt) a few "girl-oriented" tasks. In Jr. High, I tried to sign up for football (it was offered as a class) and was pulled out of school by a very angry counselor who explained that they didn't offer any sports to GIRLS except cheerleading (no freakin' way!), and I should learn my place (yes, I am 31, not 70 - so this was in the late 1980's, even though clearly everyone was still stuck in the 1950's.) In order to help me along with this project, they had signed me up for Home Economics, a class which boys were forbidden to take because they apparently thought that was being "fair".
I managed to burn almost every dish we were told to make (fortunately, for my family, I did grow out of this one), and mutilate every project or task I was given. Probably the most memorable was the sewing project. Make a shirt. Sure, how hard could that be? Unfortunately, this was back when the stretchy t-shirt material with tye-dye was popular. I chose a lovely blue tye-dye that resembled clouds for my first project. I'm not exactly sure what went wrong, but the neck opening ended up exceeding the waist, the sleeves were two different sizes, and the hems didn't line up. However, to distract from all of these "issues" I slapped a fancy, very 1980's, sew-on patch/badge the size of a baseball on it that didn't match it at all.
The sad part is I wore that thing for years. It's entirely possible it's still up in my closet somewhere.
Last night I was up until midnight trying to get the pieces of my son's new valance together. I had actually found, and set up my sewing machine (which I own out of mommy-obligation, not because I am any better than I was,) scraped the dust and decay off, and tried to piece together a race-car flag looking thing for his windows. I'm telling you, it's Jr. High all over again. Except, this time it actually LOOKS right.
Seriously, it looks fantastic, like a bunch of racing flags. I was so excited, thinking I had actually done something right for a change! That was, until I tried to put it on the curtain rod. The worst part is, I don't know what is wrong! But somehow, I managed to sew shut half the rod opening.
I lost how many hours of sleep for this?
I gave up, and went to bed figuring it was probably a good idea to NOT let me have anything sharp like siscors or a seam ripper at almost 1AM, after staring crosseyed for I don't know how many hours at a black and white checkered wavy psychedelic pattern (don't they use things like this in brainwashing people?) Unfortunately for me, I left all the stuff out on the kitchen table. By stuff, I mean my Tub-O-Doom. It contains all the projects I thought I could save us some money and complete. Dresses for my daughter, table cloths with cute holiday characters on it for the kids, etc. I don't think a single project has EVER been completed, yet I saved all of it. Every stupid one, when my brain hiccuped and thought I could sew something from the past eight years.
...Guess who found them this morning.
I'm in hell. I want my Navy Seal Barbie back and to go find a quiet corner. Where did I go so wrong? I'm totally blaming the chauvinistic "counselor" from Jr. High. The bastard.
Growing up, my mother did in-home daycare for about eight kids (ok, just typing that makes my left eye twitch), then went to school to be a nurse for children's hospital while I was still in gradeschool. She was a wiz at sewing, enough so that I didn't mind that my clothes weren't just like everyone else's - they were COOLER! She went and got her hair and nails done on a regular basis. She could cook meals for 30 at the drop of a hat, and be gracious the entire time, AND keep her house clean (all things I seem to be completely incapable of.) Even the little things, like the way she held her water glass were very feminine.
Now she has turned into the happy, sewing, cookies and cream grandmother. She made a dress for my daughter and her DOLL recently, which of course fit perfectly, even though both were in another state, and without measurements. She does stuff like this, even though she has advanced multiple sclerosis.
Growing up, I didn't spend time on clothes or nails or sewing. In kindergarten I had a plastic snap-box that was to hold all my crayons, pencils and siscors. Instead, I used it to catch a ton of "nickel-Frogs" (they're about the size of a nickel, and are around in the MILLIONS in Colorado ponds, and who cares that you have to wade knee deep into a mud-pit to get them!) It turns out that those suckers die pretty quickly in crayon boxes (about 6 hours), AND that they don't like pizza crusts. I think the spanking, then subsequent grounding for the hundreds of dead frogs in my room was about two weeks, in all.
I couldn't play Barbies with the other girls. They were all into making their Barbies grow up and have babies and vacuum... VACUUM! *banging head on wall* Come ON! And besides, they all lacked imagination. My Barbies were career women, and I think one was even a Navy Seal. She was often to be found hanging from the second story window on a secret mission, or thirty feet up in a tree scouting out the area.
I will say that I attempted (was forced to attempt) a few "girl-oriented" tasks. In Jr. High, I tried to sign up for football (it was offered as a class) and was pulled out of school by a very angry counselor who explained that they didn't offer any sports to GIRLS except cheerleading (no freakin' way!), and I should learn my place (yes, I am 31, not 70 - so this was in the late 1980's, even though clearly everyone was still stuck in the 1950's.) In order to help me along with this project, they had signed me up for Home Economics, a class which boys were forbidden to take because they apparently thought that was being "fair".
I managed to burn almost every dish we were told to make (fortunately, for my family, I did grow out of this one), and mutilate every project or task I was given. Probably the most memorable was the sewing project. Make a shirt. Sure, how hard could that be? Unfortunately, this was back when the stretchy t-shirt material with tye-dye was popular. I chose a lovely blue tye-dye that resembled clouds for my first project. I'm not exactly sure what went wrong, but the neck opening ended up exceeding the waist, the sleeves were two different sizes, and the hems didn't line up. However, to distract from all of these "issues" I slapped a fancy, very 1980's, sew-on patch/badge the size of a baseball on it that didn't match it at all.
The sad part is I wore that thing for years. It's entirely possible it's still up in my closet somewhere.
Last night I was up until midnight trying to get the pieces of my son's new valance together. I had actually found, and set up my sewing machine (which I own out of mommy-obligation, not because I am any better than I was,) scraped the dust and decay off, and tried to piece together a race-car flag looking thing for his windows. I'm telling you, it's Jr. High all over again. Except, this time it actually LOOKS right.
Seriously, it looks fantastic, like a bunch of racing flags. I was so excited, thinking I had actually done something right for a change! That was, until I tried to put it on the curtain rod. The worst part is, I don't know what is wrong! But somehow, I managed to sew shut half the rod opening.
I lost how many hours of sleep for this?
I gave up, and went to bed figuring it was probably a good idea to NOT let me have anything sharp like siscors or a seam ripper at almost 1AM, after staring crosseyed for I don't know how many hours at a black and white checkered wavy psychedelic pattern (don't they use things like this in brainwashing people?) Unfortunately for me, I left all the stuff out on the kitchen table. By stuff, I mean my Tub-O-Doom. It contains all the projects I thought I could save us some money and complete. Dresses for my daughter, table cloths with cute holiday characters on it for the kids, etc. I don't think a single project has EVER been completed, yet I saved all of it. Every stupid one, when my brain hiccuped and thought I could sew something from the past eight years.
...Guess who found them this morning.
I'm in hell. I want my Navy Seal Barbie back and to go find a quiet corner. Where did I go so wrong? I'm totally blaming the chauvinistic "counselor" from Jr. High. The bastard.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
On A Roller Coaster
Well, I'm about to talk about what appears to be a very touchy subject for a lot of people: amusement park rides. Or, to be more specific, being too fat to ride on them.
I never went to an amusement park when I was obese. I couldn't really tell you why, considering I actually drove by the Six-Flags in Chicago every single day on my way to and from work. In the two and a half years we lived there, not once did we even attempt a visit to the park. It may have been that getting stuck in the Gurnee Mills Mall was enough of an adventure to last a life time (what a nightmare of a layout for a mall - they need GPS just to get out of the parking lots! I think it's a mile+ one way from one end inside the mall to the other - perhaps longer?)
Anyway, because I never went, I never had the dreaded "I don't fit!" experience (though I carried my weight differently, so who knows?) Honestly, it never even occurred to me. It's not really something that you think about, unless it's staring you right in the face.
Last Wednesday, my family went to Six Flags out here. I have to say, it was totally UNimpressive. I bet there are some fantastic parks out there, but Upstate-New York isn't one of them. They had a "Mid-day Parade" which consisted of about 10 people, one "float" the size of a computer desk, and a pull along wagon. I mean, it was just sad. The rides weren't fabulous either, but the kids seemed to have a fun time. *sigh* Ahh... For the days of being entertained by so little!
Anyway, something that was rather surprising was the amount of severely obese people milling about. Now, I have been to Disney World (in fact, I went in March this year), and I saw the same thing - on a grand scale. People will go on and on about how shocking it is to visit Disney, because of the sheer amount of people who are morbidly obese in the park. Even then, I didn't believe it until I saw it, because it hadn't been that way five years ago when I was last there. I didn't expect the same occurrence at this tiny Six-Flags, because it's so rual that I figured the percentage would be about the same as in normal daily life, instead of super concentrated like at Disney.
I'm sure that people now expect a bit more leeway in the adult rides as far as seat space goes. However, I was surprised to see that they also expected it in the children's area. There was a roller coaster called The Road Runner Express. It is made for KIDS, meaning that the seats are relatively smaller for a two seater. This is an actual picture of the roller coaster. It's pretty obvious it's for kids, so you would expect it to be sized smaller - right?
My son (who is five) is very into roller coasters, as he fell in love with the Barn Stormer at Disney World. So, when he saw this little roller coaster, he dragged me over before I even knew what was happening. Of course, mommy was required to go on it. I wasn't the only one, however, as I watched a line of parents being unceremoniously dragged onto it by their little mini-me's. We didn't make the first load, and had to wait our turn.
There was a very obese woman getting on the ride. She had her son, who was about the same age as my own, with her in the seat. As she worked on getting in, he looked like he was being squeezed a bit. However, they were determined to make it work. After all, her daughter was in the seat behind her with grandma, and was watching. As it was a kid's ride, a seatbelt was the only restraint. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn't make that buckle reach. Not even close.
Eventually, she got frustrated and called out to the ride operator "don't you people have seatbelt extenders!??!?!" The ride operator could only nod in the negative, I think he was too afraid to say anything. This was no weeping woman, defeated by the ride - she was down right pissed off.
If it had been me, I would have been in mortified tears. I can only imagine what it would have been like to try to fit in the seat, in front of all those people, and have to exit the ride and leave my son to ride it all alone. The mere thought of not being able to take my son on the ride he was so obsessed with, to share that with him, makes my stomach clench.
I was thinking about all of this, as I watched the woman get out of the seat and stamp her feet on the platform. She asked her son if he was ok riding alone, to which it didn't seem he cared in the least. (Mine would have, he probably would have scrambled out of that seat lightning fast! Of course, we do everything together. Maybe, for the other boy, this was not an uncommon occurrence.) Then she walked off, with grandma calling out to her "They are so stupid, not accommodating their paying public! We'll see you in a minute!"
As the ride went around the track for three consecutive circuits, I was treated to the rantings of the woman to her husband on the exit platform. A whole lot of "stupid rides aren't designed for REAL people!" And "Oh sure, they say they accommodate everyone - hell, it's why they hire all these foreigners to run the rides! To ACCOMMODATE! But do you think they accommodate an average American? HELL NO!" (They do hire employees from all sorts of different countries, I think they're trying to take after Disney's idea on the matter, and it's really neat - the way she said it was really nasty, and insulting. Also, the woman herself could probably have lost 80-100 lbs and still be overweight, so you tell me if you think that is in the "average American" category.)
When it was my turn on the ride, the only problem I had was with the knee space (being 5'10 on a kid's ride has it's drawbacks.) I was still fine, but I knew I was going to have bruises on my knees from it nonetheless. Fortunately, Mr. Rocket Scientist (who went on it with my daughter) does too. *snicker* It's always good to suffer together, I say!
The ride itself was awful. My poor kids! Who knows how many brain cells they lost on that ride?!!? It was more traumatic and jerky than the adult looping roller roaster (I was the only one who went on it. Mr. Rocket Scientist TOTALLY CHICKENED OUT. And no, I will not let him live that down. Ever. NEVER ever. NEVER ever EVER!)
On the adult roller coaster, while in line, I heard a couple of guys discussing whether they would have the try-out seat available (they did not.) I didn't know what the heck that was (what, they hold you upside down and see if you puke or not, and THEN you get to go on the ride?) At least, I didn't until my brain turned back on, AND he said "well, I just hope I can get the restraints down then". I guess at some parks now they have introduced the seat on the platform to try fitting before entering the actual ride. From what I hear, this is darn near as embarrassing as getting in and getting kicked back off. This is because you apparently have to sit in it in front of everyone while they're waiting, and usually at the request of the ride operator who is in doubt about whether or not you are going to fit.
This was never an issue while I was growing up. I went to Elitches (Denver, CO) at least three times a summer until I was about 16. I cannot recall a single incident that someone didn't fit. Not even in gossip between us kids did that ever come up as having been witnessed. And we would have discussed it, chatty brats that we were. Sure, there were the morons who made the news by standing up and decapitating themselves, or sticking out an arm and ending up with it amputated. Those sorts of things. But never anyone who couldn't fit.
There was a woman on our block who absolutely would not have fit on any ride, but she never attempted to ride any of them. Thinking back on it, she just knew, and didn't want to subject herself to that. But how horrible, even barring the public embarrassment, to be left out like that. Left behind. As a kid, I didn't really think about it - it was just someone else's mom. Now, as a mom, well... Ouch.
I am, however, of two minds on this. I have seen blog after blog entry about how horrible this is. This is real, this hurts people, and if you want a really good take on what the other side of this is - what it's like to be that person who can't fit, I suggest this blog entry from a well spoken woman (Red Neck Diva) on the experience.
The other side of it comes from thinking about that woman's attitude at the kid's roller coaster when she didn't fit. The whole "How dare they not accommodate" tantrum she went through. That the average American doesn't fit on those rides anymore, so they should change them. I then came across an article online about an amusement park that is designing almost all of their rides with seats to accommodate the "extra large patron", but how this meant less seats available for those who weren't big. Meaning that the "normal weight" person would likely be UNSAFE in these seats because they haven't got the girth to fill it out properly.
Is it right that the needs of one population are sacrificed in order to serve another? I have to admit, that deepdown I'm a little irritated. I know that if it had been me who didn't fit the ride, I wouldn't have been stamping my feet demanding accommodation. I would have been thinking how I needed to change myself (in between sobs and sniffles, mind you). I would have placed the blame upon my own shoulders, and not on the amusement park. I would expect ME to change, not them. If I pull on a pair of jeans, and they don't fit because I have gained 10 lbs, I don't start railing at the jean company and saying they better have a bigger size because, dammit, they better accommodate me! I may BUY a bigger size, but I am thinking about how it is my own fault I am in one, and how to change that or whatnot.
Is that prejudiced? To feel deep-down, that just possibly, that the responsibility should fall on the person's shoulders, instead of the amusement park? That it irks me that if I were in line for a roller coaster and all that were left were the oversized seats, that I would have to wait for the next one? That I, being healthy, would be the one who was inconvenienced, instead?
Gad, that sounds horrible. Don't scream at me. I'm just thinking outloud, and sharing what I have seen. I DO see both sides, but I do not agree with the massive attitude demanding accommodation. For an airplane, for a bus, etc - ABSOLUTELY. I see those now as necessities, and people must have access no matter what their weight is now. But at an AMUSEMENT PARK?
*sigh* Maybe that lady acting out like a spoiled brat, and ranting loud enough so everyone heard her deliberately just got to me, and I can't see past it. It's tainted my view. But I'm not entirely sure of that. I'm pretty sure I'd feel this way anyway. Ugh, how bad does that make me?
Yes, I know how this plays directly into the whole bathroom post a couple weeks back. It's just that it seems to be an issue that keeps cropping up. Either it's becoming a major issue, or I just never noticed it before now. Have all of you, before this? I know, I'm completely rual and secluded, so maybe it's just that.
Ok, don't cuss me out or get rude, it's ok to disagree and vent an opinion though. So, what do you think?
I never went to an amusement park when I was obese. I couldn't really tell you why, considering I actually drove by the Six-Flags in Chicago every single day on my way to and from work. In the two and a half years we lived there, not once did we even attempt a visit to the park. It may have been that getting stuck in the Gurnee Mills Mall was enough of an adventure to last a life time (what a nightmare of a layout for a mall - they need GPS just to get out of the parking lots! I think it's a mile+ one way from one end inside the mall to the other - perhaps longer?)
Anyway, because I never went, I never had the dreaded "I don't fit!" experience (though I carried my weight differently, so who knows?) Honestly, it never even occurred to me. It's not really something that you think about, unless it's staring you right in the face.
Last Wednesday, my family went to Six Flags out here. I have to say, it was totally UNimpressive. I bet there are some fantastic parks out there, but Upstate-New York isn't one of them. They had a "Mid-day Parade" which consisted of about 10 people, one "float" the size of a computer desk, and a pull along wagon. I mean, it was just sad. The rides weren't fabulous either, but the kids seemed to have a fun time. *sigh* Ahh... For the days of being entertained by so little!
Anyway, something that was rather surprising was the amount of severely obese people milling about. Now, I have been to Disney World (in fact, I went in March this year), and I saw the same thing - on a grand scale. People will go on and on about how shocking it is to visit Disney, because of the sheer amount of people who are morbidly obese in the park. Even then, I didn't believe it until I saw it, because it hadn't been that way five years ago when I was last there. I didn't expect the same occurrence at this tiny Six-Flags, because it's so rual that I figured the percentage would be about the same as in normal daily life, instead of super concentrated like at Disney.
I'm sure that people now expect a bit more leeway in the adult rides as far as seat space goes. However, I was surprised to see that they also expected it in the children's area. There was a roller coaster called The Road Runner Express. It is made for KIDS, meaning that the seats are relatively smaller for a two seater. This is an actual picture of the roller coaster. It's pretty obvious it's for kids, so you would expect it to be sized smaller - right?
My son (who is five) is very into roller coasters, as he fell in love with the Barn Stormer at Disney World. So, when he saw this little roller coaster, he dragged me over before I even knew what was happening. Of course, mommy was required to go on it. I wasn't the only one, however, as I watched a line of parents being unceremoniously dragged onto it by their little mini-me's. We didn't make the first load, and had to wait our turn.
There was a very obese woman getting on the ride. She had her son, who was about the same age as my own, with her in the seat. As she worked on getting in, he looked like he was being squeezed a bit. However, they were determined to make it work. After all, her daughter was in the seat behind her with grandma, and was watching. As it was a kid's ride, a seatbelt was the only restraint. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn't make that buckle reach. Not even close.
Eventually, she got frustrated and called out to the ride operator "don't you people have seatbelt extenders!??!?!" The ride operator could only nod in the negative, I think he was too afraid to say anything. This was no weeping woman, defeated by the ride - she was down right pissed off.
If it had been me, I would have been in mortified tears. I can only imagine what it would have been like to try to fit in the seat, in front of all those people, and have to exit the ride and leave my son to ride it all alone. The mere thought of not being able to take my son on the ride he was so obsessed with, to share that with him, makes my stomach clench.
I was thinking about all of this, as I watched the woman get out of the seat and stamp her feet on the platform. She asked her son if he was ok riding alone, to which it didn't seem he cared in the least. (Mine would have, he probably would have scrambled out of that seat lightning fast! Of course, we do everything together. Maybe, for the other boy, this was not an uncommon occurrence.) Then she walked off, with grandma calling out to her "They are so stupid, not accommodating their paying public! We'll see you in a minute!"
As the ride went around the track for three consecutive circuits, I was treated to the rantings of the woman to her husband on the exit platform. A whole lot of "stupid rides aren't designed for REAL people!" And "Oh sure, they say they accommodate everyone - hell, it's why they hire all these foreigners to run the rides! To ACCOMMODATE! But do you think they accommodate an average American? HELL NO!" (They do hire employees from all sorts of different countries, I think they're trying to take after Disney's idea on the matter, and it's really neat - the way she said it was really nasty, and insulting. Also, the woman herself could probably have lost 80-100 lbs and still be overweight, so you tell me if you think that is in the "average American" category.)
When it was my turn on the ride, the only problem I had was with the knee space (being 5'10 on a kid's ride has it's drawbacks.) I was still fine, but I knew I was going to have bruises on my knees from it nonetheless. Fortunately, Mr. Rocket Scientist (who went on it with my daughter) does too. *snicker* It's always good to suffer together, I say!
The ride itself was awful. My poor kids! Who knows how many brain cells they lost on that ride?!!? It was more traumatic and jerky than the adult looping roller roaster (I was the only one who went on it. Mr. Rocket Scientist TOTALLY CHICKENED OUT. And no, I will not let him live that down. Ever. NEVER ever. NEVER ever EVER!)
On the adult roller coaster, while in line, I heard a couple of guys discussing whether they would have the try-out seat available (they did not.) I didn't know what the heck that was (what, they hold you upside down and see if you puke or not, and THEN you get to go on the ride?) At least, I didn't until my brain turned back on, AND he said "well, I just hope I can get the restraints down then". I guess at some parks now they have introduced the seat on the platform to try fitting before entering the actual ride. From what I hear, this is darn near as embarrassing as getting in and getting kicked back off. This is because you apparently have to sit in it in front of everyone while they're waiting, and usually at the request of the ride operator who is in doubt about whether or not you are going to fit.
This was never an issue while I was growing up. I went to Elitches (Denver, CO) at least three times a summer until I was about 16. I cannot recall a single incident that someone didn't fit. Not even in gossip between us kids did that ever come up as having been witnessed. And we would have discussed it, chatty brats that we were. Sure, there were the morons who made the news by standing up and decapitating themselves, or sticking out an arm and ending up with it amputated. Those sorts of things. But never anyone who couldn't fit.
There was a woman on our block who absolutely would not have fit on any ride, but she never attempted to ride any of them. Thinking back on it, she just knew, and didn't want to subject herself to that. But how horrible, even barring the public embarrassment, to be left out like that. Left behind. As a kid, I didn't really think about it - it was just someone else's mom. Now, as a mom, well... Ouch.
I am, however, of two minds on this. I have seen blog after blog entry about how horrible this is. This is real, this hurts people, and if you want a really good take on what the other side of this is - what it's like to be that person who can't fit, I suggest this blog entry from a well spoken woman (Red Neck Diva) on the experience.
The other side of it comes from thinking about that woman's attitude at the kid's roller coaster when she didn't fit. The whole "How dare they not accommodate" tantrum she went through. That the average American doesn't fit on those rides anymore, so they should change them. I then came across an article online about an amusement park that is designing almost all of their rides with seats to accommodate the "extra large patron", but how this meant less seats available for those who weren't big. Meaning that the "normal weight" person would likely be UNSAFE in these seats because they haven't got the girth to fill it out properly.
Is it right that the needs of one population are sacrificed in order to serve another? I have to admit, that deepdown I'm a little irritated. I know that if it had been me who didn't fit the ride, I wouldn't have been stamping my feet demanding accommodation. I would have been thinking how I needed to change myself (in between sobs and sniffles, mind you). I would have placed the blame upon my own shoulders, and not on the amusement park. I would expect ME to change, not them. If I pull on a pair of jeans, and they don't fit because I have gained 10 lbs, I don't start railing at the jean company and saying they better have a bigger size because, dammit, they better accommodate me! I may BUY a bigger size, but I am thinking about how it is my own fault I am in one, and how to change that or whatnot.
Is that prejudiced? To feel deep-down, that just possibly, that the responsibility should fall on the person's shoulders, instead of the amusement park? That it irks me that if I were in line for a roller coaster and all that were left were the oversized seats, that I would have to wait for the next one? That I, being healthy, would be the one who was inconvenienced, instead?
Gad, that sounds horrible. Don't scream at me. I'm just thinking outloud, and sharing what I have seen. I DO see both sides, but I do not agree with the massive attitude demanding accommodation. For an airplane, for a bus, etc - ABSOLUTELY. I see those now as necessities, and people must have access no matter what their weight is now. But at an AMUSEMENT PARK?
*sigh* Maybe that lady acting out like a spoiled brat, and ranting loud enough so everyone heard her deliberately just got to me, and I can't see past it. It's tainted my view. But I'm not entirely sure of that. I'm pretty sure I'd feel this way anyway. Ugh, how bad does that make me?
Yes, I know how this plays directly into the whole bathroom post a couple weeks back. It's just that it seems to be an issue that keeps cropping up. Either it's becoming a major issue, or I just never noticed it before now. Have all of you, before this? I know, I'm completely rual and secluded, so maybe it's just that.
Ok, don't cuss me out or get rude, it's ok to disagree and vent an opinion though. So, what do you think?
Monday, June 26, 2006
O... M..... F.... G
http://www.brawnyacademy.com/brawnyacademy.html
I just.... I... They...
OMG
Did you all know about this?
And how many of you are signing up your husband/boyfriend right now?
Edit: LMAO! I just made it to Episode Two and it starts out with the guy saying "You caught me, I was just putting the toilet seat down. My mom used to say that true love is not having to sit on a cold exposed toilet rim..."
Ow. My side hurts. Ow.
Whatever you do, don't miss the "Course Guide For Husbands"
I just.... I... They...
OMG
Did you all know about this?
And how many of you are signing up your husband/boyfriend right now?
Edit: LMAO! I just made it to Episode Two and it starts out with the guy saying "You caught me, I was just putting the toilet seat down. My mom used to say that true love is not having to sit on a cold exposed toilet rim..."
Ow. My side hurts. Ow.
Whatever you do, don't miss the "Course Guide For Husbands"
The World Is A Vampire....
Sent to draaaaaaain...
Sorry. I had a flashback to my highschool years there...
I woke up this morning with the most peculiar marks on my neck. I have NO idea where they came from, but I have to confess, they do remind me of something out of a bad B-movie about vampires. So, in order to rule out that possibility (since Mr. Rocket Scientist is denying all responsibility) I decided to look up the symptoms of turning into a vampire, just for kicks.
It turns out WebMD rather frowns upon this "affliction", and had nothing to offer. The Mayo Clinic was out too. So off to Google I went....And found a bunch of freakin' scary people.
The most interesting comment I found was this: "if you have red hair, you'll turn into a vampire after death (according to Greek and Egyptian mythology)." Now, would that be natural, or does dying it count?
After finding a list of "vampiric symptoms", I have decided that most every person I know is a vampire, and I'm taking out stock in wooden stakes and crucifixes;
* Night People, or NightOwls
* Sunburn easily, avoid bright lights
* Their vitality ranges widely, and they can be vigorous and active one day, depressed and languorous the next.
* Frequent Digestive trouble (HA! After which take-out order?) "Contrary to the image of the vampire as thin, many real vampires are troubled by obesity because of a hunger that makes them food addicts, and a system that is sluggish in processing physical food." (So, if you attend weight watchers, maybe twinkies aren't your problem! You may actually be a blood-sucking fiend! Um....Soo, how many WW points is a pint of O negative?)
* Being unpredictable, moody, temperamental and overwhelming.
* Being an intense person.
* Being confrontational or antagonizing.
* Can also be morose, withdrawn, silent and introverted, or *drum roll* even cheerful. *GASP!*
* People feel "creepy" or "weird" around you.
Ok, did that rule anyone OUT? Seriously?
Of course, this does make me think back on those old Reese's Halloween commercials, where they show the fang marks in a peanut-butter-cup.... I could go for that, become a Reese's vampire. Hmm... I see possibilities! Black leather, the nightlife, and chocolate and peanutbutter - does it GET any better than that???
Ok, well since I managed to weird myself out for the day, and reaffirm to never go searching for anything like that again because you discover too many creepy things that people are into, I'll move onto the exercise portion of my post. I would like to take this moment to point out to everyone that it has been well over a week since I managed to hurt myself in any sort of freakish accident. Don't I get a token or something for that?
This morning, I literally shoved Mr. Rocket Scientist out of bed, and sent him off to his workout. Boy, was he mad at me. But he had spent the entire evening prior going on and on about getting back in gear with P90X (yeah, yeah, yeah, heard it all before, nerd-boy.) However, sure enough, as soon as the alarm went off he went for the snooze button and started rationalizing why he wouldn't work out.
So, me being the helpful and supportive wife, I called our huge Labrador over to slobber in his face with his "breath'o'death" and then shoved him physically out of the bed. I'm fairly certain he actually started cussing at me. It may be because I showed signs that I had actually HEARD him, that he skittered from the room at the fastest pace I have seen out of him before noon in years.
I also got my workout in. Today was the P90X Cardio. It's a bit like exercise ADD. You start off with a warm up, end up in yoga, onto kenpo, then plyometrics, then core synergistics, then a cool down. Usually, I don't mind it so much. However, today it was just ticking me off. About half-way through I was contemplating quitting and pulling out my swords instead.
Now, we all know that would have driven me crazy and I would have felt like a failure all day. So, I didn't. I finished out the DVD, and then contemplated my swords. It's pouring outside, so taking my sword training out there isn't an option. It turns out that my half-swords are semi-acceptable for use in my workout area (basement). I'm a bit nervous though. I can totally see them going right through the suspended ceiling. Afterall, I did manage to nail a ceiling fan many many feet above my head with my katana. A ceiling within reach is probably just asking for trouble.
I did a short run through of some basic moves with the smaller swords, but I have to admit I felt like I was missing out not being able to use my bokken/katanas. I have decided that I am going to wait until it stops raining and then go on out and scare the neighbors per my usual plan. There are just too many things for me to destroy or hurt myself with inside. You should all be proud of my restraint.
Sorry. I had a flashback to my highschool years there...
I woke up this morning with the most peculiar marks on my neck. I have NO idea where they came from, but I have to confess, they do remind me of something out of a bad B-movie about vampires. So, in order to rule out that possibility (since Mr. Rocket Scientist is denying all responsibility) I decided to look up the symptoms of turning into a vampire, just for kicks.
It turns out WebMD rather frowns upon this "affliction", and had nothing to offer. The Mayo Clinic was out too. So off to Google I went....And found a bunch of freakin' scary people.
The most interesting comment I found was this: "if you have red hair, you'll turn into a vampire after death (according to Greek and Egyptian mythology)." Now, would that be natural, or does dying it count?
After finding a list of "vampiric symptoms", I have decided that most every person I know is a vampire, and I'm taking out stock in wooden stakes and crucifixes;
* Night People, or NightOwls
* Sunburn easily, avoid bright lights
* Their vitality ranges widely, and they can be vigorous and active one day, depressed and languorous the next.
* Frequent Digestive trouble (HA! After which take-out order?) "Contrary to the image of the vampire as thin, many real vampires are troubled by obesity because of a hunger that makes them food addicts, and a system that is sluggish in processing physical food." (So, if you attend weight watchers, maybe twinkies aren't your problem! You may actually be a blood-sucking fiend! Um....Soo, how many WW points is a pint of O negative?)
* Being unpredictable, moody, temperamental and overwhelming.
* Being an intense person.
* Being confrontational or antagonizing.
* Can also be morose, withdrawn, silent and introverted, or *drum roll* even cheerful. *GASP!*
* People feel "creepy" or "weird" around you.
Ok, did that rule anyone OUT? Seriously?
Of course, this does make me think back on those old Reese's Halloween commercials, where they show the fang marks in a peanut-butter-cup.... I could go for that, become a Reese's vampire. Hmm... I see possibilities! Black leather, the nightlife, and chocolate and peanutbutter - does it GET any better than that???
Ok, well since I managed to weird myself out for the day, and reaffirm to never go searching for anything like that again because you discover too many creepy things that people are into, I'll move onto the exercise portion of my post. I would like to take this moment to point out to everyone that it has been well over a week since I managed to hurt myself in any sort of freakish accident. Don't I get a token or something for that?
This morning, I literally shoved Mr. Rocket Scientist out of bed, and sent him off to his workout. Boy, was he mad at me. But he had spent the entire evening prior going on and on about getting back in gear with P90X (yeah, yeah, yeah, heard it all before, nerd-boy.) However, sure enough, as soon as the alarm went off he went for the snooze button and started rationalizing why he wouldn't work out.
So, me being the helpful and supportive wife, I called our huge Labrador over to slobber in his face with his "breath'o'death" and then shoved him physically out of the bed. I'm fairly certain he actually started cussing at me. It may be because I showed signs that I had actually HEARD him, that he skittered from the room at the fastest pace I have seen out of him before noon in years.
I also got my workout in. Today was the P90X Cardio. It's a bit like exercise ADD. You start off with a warm up, end up in yoga, onto kenpo, then plyometrics, then core synergistics, then a cool down. Usually, I don't mind it so much. However, today it was just ticking me off. About half-way through I was contemplating quitting and pulling out my swords instead.
Now, we all know that would have driven me crazy and I would have felt like a failure all day. So, I didn't. I finished out the DVD, and then contemplated my swords. It's pouring outside, so taking my sword training out there isn't an option. It turns out that my half-swords are semi-acceptable for use in my workout area (basement). I'm a bit nervous though. I can totally see them going right through the suspended ceiling. Afterall, I did manage to nail a ceiling fan many many feet above my head with my katana. A ceiling within reach is probably just asking for trouble.
I did a short run through of some basic moves with the smaller swords, but I have to admit I felt like I was missing out not being able to use my bokken/katanas. I have decided that I am going to wait until it stops raining and then go on out and scare the neighbors per my usual plan. There are just too many things for me to destroy or hurt myself with inside. You should all be proud of my restraint.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Bandwagon? What bandwagon?
I'm usually one who tries not to do too many of those "question and answer session" polls, because they can get really annoying. However, the one on Snackie's Blog was probably the most interesting one I have seen in a long time. And it's hot and humid here, and I have nothing to do, because I'll be damned if I'm going to clean my fridge or something else I am supposed to be doing on a Sunday afternoon.
1) How old do you wish you were?
21. People expect you to be irresponsible, trip over things and make mistakes then. They're not so forgiving after you turn 30. I'm considering a formal protest.
2) Where were you when 9/11 happened?
I was sitting on my bed folding laundry with the Today Show on. I saw the first plane hit, and couldn't believe it. When the second hit, I called my husband at work and my family back home and woke them up saying something was really wrong. After the other planes, everyone was talking to everyone, and really I just remember the strong urge to vomit while watching the rest of the day unfold. Not to mention trying to call everyone we knew in those areas, and mentally calculating what the odds were that we knew someone on the plane/in the buildings/part of the fire and rescue.
3) What do you do when vending machines steal your money?
Hmmm, this is a toughy, since I usually have a hard time overcoming the sticker price shock to actually use one. (seriously, a $1.50 for a can of soda???) but if I were to use one, I'll be damned if I'll let it just take my money. It's going down, baby! (or I am. It may just be my fate to go as a pancake beneath a vending machine.)
4) Do you consider yourself kind?
I do, to the point of stupidity. I'm willing to go above and beyond the call of duty even for a newly minted friend - simply because they need help. Even though I have a hard time believing that the human race is anything but evil. Apparently, I need therapy.
5) If you had to get a tattoo, where and what would it be?
I want one across my lower back, a Celtic/tribal mix with a crescent moon intertwined within it. Yes, it has personal meaning for me, and no, I don't care that men call it a "sex-bullseye" (hey, if they're that bad that they rely on those visual cues, that says more about their prowess than mine.)
6) If you could be fluent in any other language what would it be?
Heck, English is troublesome for me! Actually, right now, I'm enthralled with Italian and Gaelic. I think I'd choose Gaelic over Italian if pressed, however.
7) Do you know your neighbors?
Sort of. Lawn-Wars 2006 has already begun too. I have one neighbor. They're psychotic about their lawn. They mow, I kid you not, three times a week. If I mow when they aren't mowing that day, they will haul out their tractor and mow AGAIN even if it's been less than 24 hours. Would YOU want to get to know those people any better than "sort of"????
8)What do you consider a vacation?
Sun, Sand, Beach, Cruiseship, Touring a Foreign country, etc. However, Mr. Rocket Scientist prefers going to a remote mosquito infested lake area and fishing. *gag* Apparently, I'll be taking volunteers for MY type of vacation, or I'll be on my own (I promise to not wear a bikini and blind anyone for life.) ...Well, assuming my blackmail runs out on Mr. Rocket Scientist, anyway.
9) Do you follow your horoscope?
um. No.
10) Would you move for the person you loved?
I have... SEVEN TIMES. I may be facing the 8th.
11) Are you touchy feely?
I can be. Depends on how much alcohol I have had. Kidding! Truth be told I'm very aggressive about my personal space. To the point of terror in some cases due to some past experiences.
12) Do you believe that opposites attract?
Yep.
13) Dream job?
Lottery Winner. Or Travel Reporter.
14) Favorite channel(s)
I'm a show loyalist. I like a bunch of shows on Sci-fi. It seems most shows I end up liking on the main networks get cancelled though. They're starting to really tick me off.
15) Favorite place to go on a weekend?
Boy, since I live in the middle of no-where, LITERALLY, I don't like going anywhere. You see, even going grocery shopping becomes an all day event since it's 2 hours of drivetime. Instead, I like to hang out at home, watch movies I haven't seen from netflix, go for a bike ride, have good friends over for a BBQ and drinks or something like that. I like to not be stressed, if at all possible on the weekends.
16) Showers or Bath.
Bath. With BUBBLES. And lots of candles, that generally smell like lavender. And a trashy, sexy romance novel. My idea of heaven right there folks! But if you are talking the daily occurrence, well since I work out hard six days out of the week religiously, that would be a shower out of necessity.
17) Do you paint your nails?
Rarely, because my oil paints tend to ruin any efforts I make on the fingernails front. I occasionally end up painting them with my daughter, though. I admit to keeping my toenails painted, because they're ugly otherwise. Oh, and whenever I do paint my nails they're insane colors that frighten stepfordville here. I should probably do it more often and see if I can cause someone to have a stroke.
18) Do you trust people easily?
Absolutely not. Unless you count expecting every person I know to stab me in the back somehow. I generally trust people to be horrid, does that count?
19) What are your phobias?
claustrophobia. The darkness beneath my bed in the middle of the night (I'll go sailing across the room just to not step under the edge of my bed. There must be a technical term for that?)
20) Do you want kids?
I have two. I wanted three originally, but I lost the argument.
21) Do you keep a handwritten journal?
yes. Though I have been considering burning it lately. If I die, and anyone reads it, they'll have a much different view of me, not to mention proof of past misdeeds. On the otherhand, sometimes I need a place to be the horrible, awful person I am, and then be able to close the book.
22) Where would you rather be right now?
Beach, Rum, Sun, Cute, ripped, tall cabana Man...Or three... WHAT?!!?!
23) What makes you feel warm and safe?
Honestly, the holidays. When the air starts to get crisp, or snowy, my house is decorated with festive lights everywhere (most especially Christmas Season Time) and I can pad around in my comfy flannel PJ's with a glass of wine, and just sit and look at the lights and listen to the wind blowing snow around my house, hear the fire crackle, and just feel a general sense of ease. Oh, and baking cookies. I'm psychotic around that time of the year with the whole cookie thing, because it really does make me feel more... I dunno. Maybe safe isn't exactly the right term, but it's close.
24) Heavy or light sleep?
Both. I am an insomniac, but once asleep I'd prefer it to be heavy. However, since I had children it's light, and I wake at the smallest sound.
25) Are you paranoid?
Yes...No...Yes....Why?
26) Are you impatient?
Yes.
27) Who can you relate to?
Gad, minus my husband, I dunno. I think most people would be embarrassed if I named them as someone I could relate to!
28 ) How do you feel about interracial couples?
How about "how do I feel about racist questions like that?" Their race doesn't have a damn thing to do with anything, so don't be asking unless you want my opinion of you to sink 12 notches.
29) Have you been burned by love?
No. But I think I have lit a few fires way back when. I still feel guilt.
30) what's your life motto??
Work like you don't need money, Love like you've never been hurt, And dance like no one's watching.
31) What's your main ring tone on your cell?
I DO NOT HAVE A FRIGGEN CELL PHONE! I have not been assimilated yet. STAY AWAY FROM ME!
32) What were you doing at midnight last night?
Contemplating Life, The Universe, and Everything. Insomniac, remember?
33) Who was your last text message from?
I DO NOT HAVE A FRIGGEN CELL PHONE! I have not been assimilated yet. STAY AWAY FROM ME! I MEAN IT!!!
34) Who's bed did you sleep in last night?
Um.... My own, last I checked.
35) What color shirt are you wearing?
I have to wear a shirt? How will UPS know when to show up, then?? Black. My favorite color to wear.
36) Most recent movie you watched?
Fever Pitch. Was not impressed. (yes, I'm behind everyone else on the movies because I hardly ever get out unless it's a child's movie.)
37) Name five things you have on you at all times?
Good lord, I have no idea. I can hardly manage to be dressed and you want me toting about five things? I assume you mean if I am out and about instead of home in my studio or something. I usually have my sunglasses.... Um....Keys are always good, might have my purse/wallet with me (but that is all that's in my purse.) Crap, seriously, that's about it.
38.) What color are your bed sheets?
Cream silk - for entertainment purposes only. You can wear silk to bed and go flying across the sheets at Mach 5, and off the other side. Endless hours of entertainment.
39) How much cash do you have on you right now?
What part of "not having much of anything on me" did you miss? Nothing. Can you spot me a 20?
40) What is your favorite part of chicken?
Breast.
41) What's your favorite town/city?
Edinburgh, Scotland, or Venice, Italy
42) I can't wait till...October.
43) Who got you to join myspace?
I'm not on it. I was a long while ago, but it scared the crap out of me and strange people (yes PEOPLE) kept hitting on me, so I deleted everything and went into hiding. Shhhh.
44) What did you have for dinner last night?
We BBQ'd burgers, with fruit salad, and French bread, followed by a chocolate cake topped with local fresh fruit and homemade strawberry cheesecake ice cream. Yes, it was my cheatmeal for the week people - shuddap!
45) How tall are you barefoot?
Right now, it's under debate. But usually just over 5'10. Hey, my brother is 6'6, I got off easy.
46) Have you ever smoked crack?
No.
47) Do you own a gun?
Ok, personally, I do not. I don't like them. I don't want one in my house. Hubby, on the otherhand, being into bird hunting, and the fact that we live in a Survivor version of the New England outback (i.e. the swordfighting with the raccoon incident), owns a couple.
48) What do you prefer to drink in the morning?
Champagne. Oh, you meant what do I actually drink, instead of pretending? Water. Always water. 24 oz before my workout, 24 during, and about 24 in the hour afterwards.
49) What is your secret weapon to lure in the opposite sex?
Chocolate. OH wait, that's women. Beer.
50) Do you have A.D.D.?
Maybe. I keep forgetting to ask.
51) What time did you wake up today?
4:45AM
52) Current worry?
EVERYTHING.
53) Current hate?
Actually, don't hate anything...persey. Dislike many things. Too many to list.
54) Favorite place to be?
Oh come on, how many times are we going to ask this question?? Sun, sand, Beach, sexy six-pack of cabana men....Stick with the picture here!
55) Where would you like to travel?
Back to the UK, France, Italy, Greece, Germany, Switzerland, Australia, China, Japan, Iceland, all the islands, Brazil, the list is pretty much endless.
56) Where do you think you'll be in 10 yrs?
*sigh* Again, stupid question...Rum, Sun, Sand, cabana men....
57) last thing you ate?
Oh shoot! I forgot to eat! HA! Um, about 8 hours ago I had a spinach leaf salad with roasted chicken, mushrooms, FF feta, sun dried tomatoes and raspberry vinaigrette dressing.
58) What songs do you sing in the shower?
I don't. The government personally asked me to refrain, as my singing can cause listeners serious neurological damage.
59) Last person that made you laugh?
Mr. Rocket Scientist.
60) Worst injury you've ever had?
When I was 7, I had a migraine hit me so hard that I literally fell off my bike, and caused a blow out fracture in my skull behind my right eye. That's when they finally figured out (after a bazillion tests) that I have severe and chronic migraines. And yes, I still get several a week, thankgoodness there are medications now, unlike then.
61) Does someone have a crush on you?
Not in a million years.
62) What is your favorite candy?
Guess....
1) How old do you wish you were?
21. People expect you to be irresponsible, trip over things and make mistakes then. They're not so forgiving after you turn 30. I'm considering a formal protest.
2) Where were you when 9/11 happened?
I was sitting on my bed folding laundry with the Today Show on. I saw the first plane hit, and couldn't believe it. When the second hit, I called my husband at work and my family back home and woke them up saying something was really wrong. After the other planes, everyone was talking to everyone, and really I just remember the strong urge to vomit while watching the rest of the day unfold. Not to mention trying to call everyone we knew in those areas, and mentally calculating what the odds were that we knew someone on the plane/in the buildings/part of the fire and rescue.
3) What do you do when vending machines steal your money?
Hmmm, this is a toughy, since I usually have a hard time overcoming the sticker price shock to actually use one. (seriously, a $1.50 for a can of soda???) but if I were to use one, I'll be damned if I'll let it just take my money. It's going down, baby! (or I am. It may just be my fate to go as a pancake beneath a vending machine.)
4) Do you consider yourself kind?
I do, to the point of stupidity. I'm willing to go above and beyond the call of duty even for a newly minted friend - simply because they need help. Even though I have a hard time believing that the human race is anything but evil. Apparently, I need therapy.
5) If you had to get a tattoo, where and what would it be?
I want one across my lower back, a Celtic/tribal mix with a crescent moon intertwined within it. Yes, it has personal meaning for me, and no, I don't care that men call it a "sex-bullseye" (hey, if they're that bad that they rely on those visual cues, that says more about their prowess than mine.)
6) If you could be fluent in any other language what would it be?
Heck, English is troublesome for me! Actually, right now, I'm enthralled with Italian and Gaelic. I think I'd choose Gaelic over Italian if pressed, however.
7) Do you know your neighbors?
Sort of. Lawn-Wars 2006 has already begun too. I have one neighbor. They're psychotic about their lawn. They mow, I kid you not, three times a week. If I mow when they aren't mowing that day, they will haul out their tractor and mow AGAIN even if it's been less than 24 hours. Would YOU want to get to know those people any better than "sort of"????
8)What do you consider a vacation?
Sun, Sand, Beach, Cruiseship, Touring a Foreign country, etc. However, Mr. Rocket Scientist prefers going to a remote mosquito infested lake area and fishing. *gag* Apparently, I'll be taking volunteers for MY type of vacation, or I'll be on my own (I promise to not wear a bikini and blind anyone for life.) ...Well, assuming my blackmail runs out on Mr. Rocket Scientist, anyway.
9) Do you follow your horoscope?
um. No.
10) Would you move for the person you loved?
I have... SEVEN TIMES. I may be facing the 8th.
11) Are you touchy feely?
I can be. Depends on how much alcohol I have had. Kidding! Truth be told I'm very aggressive about my personal space. To the point of terror in some cases due to some past experiences.
12) Do you believe that opposites attract?
Yep.
13) Dream job?
Lottery Winner. Or Travel Reporter.
14) Favorite channel(s)
I'm a show loyalist. I like a bunch of shows on Sci-fi. It seems most shows I end up liking on the main networks get cancelled though. They're starting to really tick me off.
15) Favorite place to go on a weekend?
Boy, since I live in the middle of no-where, LITERALLY, I don't like going anywhere. You see, even going grocery shopping becomes an all day event since it's 2 hours of drivetime. Instead, I like to hang out at home, watch movies I haven't seen from netflix, go for a bike ride, have good friends over for a BBQ and drinks or something like that. I like to not be stressed, if at all possible on the weekends.
16) Showers or Bath.
Bath. With BUBBLES. And lots of candles, that generally smell like lavender. And a trashy, sexy romance novel. My idea of heaven right there folks! But if you are talking the daily occurrence, well since I work out hard six days out of the week religiously, that would be a shower out of necessity.
17) Do you paint your nails?
Rarely, because my oil paints tend to ruin any efforts I make on the fingernails front. I occasionally end up painting them with my daughter, though. I admit to keeping my toenails painted, because they're ugly otherwise. Oh, and whenever I do paint my nails they're insane colors that frighten stepfordville here. I should probably do it more often and see if I can cause someone to have a stroke.
18) Do you trust people easily?
Absolutely not. Unless you count expecting every person I know to stab me in the back somehow. I generally trust people to be horrid, does that count?
19) What are your phobias?
claustrophobia. The darkness beneath my bed in the middle of the night (I'll go sailing across the room just to not step under the edge of my bed. There must be a technical term for that?)
20) Do you want kids?
I have two. I wanted three originally, but I lost the argument.
21) Do you keep a handwritten journal?
yes. Though I have been considering burning it lately. If I die, and anyone reads it, they'll have a much different view of me, not to mention proof of past misdeeds. On the otherhand, sometimes I need a place to be the horrible, awful person I am, and then be able to close the book.
22) Where would you rather be right now?
Beach, Rum, Sun, Cute, ripped, tall cabana Man...Or three... WHAT?!!?!
23) What makes you feel warm and safe?
Honestly, the holidays. When the air starts to get crisp, or snowy, my house is decorated with festive lights everywhere (most especially Christmas Season Time) and I can pad around in my comfy flannel PJ's with a glass of wine, and just sit and look at the lights and listen to the wind blowing snow around my house, hear the fire crackle, and just feel a general sense of ease. Oh, and baking cookies. I'm psychotic around that time of the year with the whole cookie thing, because it really does make me feel more... I dunno. Maybe safe isn't exactly the right term, but it's close.
24) Heavy or light sleep?
Both. I am an insomniac, but once asleep I'd prefer it to be heavy. However, since I had children it's light, and I wake at the smallest sound.
25) Are you paranoid?
Yes...No...Yes....Why?
26) Are you impatient?
Yes.
27) Who can you relate to?
Gad, minus my husband, I dunno. I think most people would be embarrassed if I named them as someone I could relate to!
28 ) How do you feel about interracial couples?
How about "how do I feel about racist questions like that?" Their race doesn't have a damn thing to do with anything, so don't be asking unless you want my opinion of you to sink 12 notches.
29) Have you been burned by love?
No. But I think I have lit a few fires way back when. I still feel guilt.
30) what's your life motto??
Work like you don't need money, Love like you've never been hurt, And dance like no one's watching.
31) What's your main ring tone on your cell?
I DO NOT HAVE A FRIGGEN CELL PHONE! I have not been assimilated yet. STAY AWAY FROM ME!
32) What were you doing at midnight last night?
Contemplating Life, The Universe, and Everything. Insomniac, remember?
33) Who was your last text message from?
I DO NOT HAVE A FRIGGEN CELL PHONE! I have not been assimilated yet. STAY AWAY FROM ME! I MEAN IT!!!
34) Who's bed did you sleep in last night?
Um.... My own, last I checked.
35) What color shirt are you wearing?
I have to wear a shirt? How will UPS know when to show up, then?? Black. My favorite color to wear.
36) Most recent movie you watched?
Fever Pitch. Was not impressed. (yes, I'm behind everyone else on the movies because I hardly ever get out unless it's a child's movie.)
37) Name five things you have on you at all times?
Good lord, I have no idea. I can hardly manage to be dressed and you want me toting about five things? I assume you mean if I am out and about instead of home in my studio or something. I usually have my sunglasses.... Um....Keys are always good, might have my purse/wallet with me (but that is all that's in my purse.) Crap, seriously, that's about it.
38.) What color are your bed sheets?
Cream silk - for entertainment purposes only. You can wear silk to bed and go flying across the sheets at Mach 5, and off the other side. Endless hours of entertainment.
39) How much cash do you have on you right now?
What part of "not having much of anything on me" did you miss? Nothing. Can you spot me a 20?
40) What is your favorite part of chicken?
Breast.
41) What's your favorite town/city?
Edinburgh, Scotland, or Venice, Italy
42) I can't wait till...October.
43) Who got you to join myspace?
I'm not on it. I was a long while ago, but it scared the crap out of me and strange people (yes PEOPLE) kept hitting on me, so I deleted everything and went into hiding. Shhhh.
44) What did you have for dinner last night?
We BBQ'd burgers, with fruit salad, and French bread, followed by a chocolate cake topped with local fresh fruit and homemade strawberry cheesecake ice cream. Yes, it was my cheatmeal for the week people - shuddap!
45) How tall are you barefoot?
Right now, it's under debate. But usually just over 5'10. Hey, my brother is 6'6, I got off easy.
46) Have you ever smoked crack?
No.
47) Do you own a gun?
Ok, personally, I do not. I don't like them. I don't want one in my house. Hubby, on the otherhand, being into bird hunting, and the fact that we live in a Survivor version of the New England outback (i.e. the swordfighting with the raccoon incident), owns a couple.
48) What do you prefer to drink in the morning?
Champagne. Oh, you meant what do I actually drink, instead of pretending? Water. Always water. 24 oz before my workout, 24 during, and about 24 in the hour afterwards.
49) What is your secret weapon to lure in the opposite sex?
Chocolate. OH wait, that's women. Beer.
50) Do you have A.D.D.?
Maybe. I keep forgetting to ask.
51) What time did you wake up today?
4:45AM
52) Current worry?
EVERYTHING.
53) Current hate?
Actually, don't hate anything...persey. Dislike many things. Too many to list.
54) Favorite place to be?
Oh come on, how many times are we going to ask this question?? Sun, sand, Beach, sexy six-pack of cabana men....Stick with the picture here!
55) Where would you like to travel?
Back to the UK, France, Italy, Greece, Germany, Switzerland, Australia, China, Japan, Iceland, all the islands, Brazil, the list is pretty much endless.
56) Where do you think you'll be in 10 yrs?
*sigh* Again, stupid question...Rum, Sun, Sand, cabana men....
57) last thing you ate?
Oh shoot! I forgot to eat! HA! Um, about 8 hours ago I had a spinach leaf salad with roasted chicken, mushrooms, FF feta, sun dried tomatoes and raspberry vinaigrette dressing.
58) What songs do you sing in the shower?
I don't. The government personally asked me to refrain, as my singing can cause listeners serious neurological damage.
59) Last person that made you laugh?
Mr. Rocket Scientist.
60) Worst injury you've ever had?
When I was 7, I had a migraine hit me so hard that I literally fell off my bike, and caused a blow out fracture in my skull behind my right eye. That's when they finally figured out (after a bazillion tests) that I have severe and chronic migraines. And yes, I still get several a week, thankgoodness there are medications now, unlike then.
61) Does someone have a crush on you?
Not in a million years.
62) What is your favorite candy?
Guess....
Saturday, June 24, 2006
Taking A Closer Look
While my parents were out here, my ever technically academic ( AKA: nerdy as nerdy can be) father brought with him several magazines. These aren't the entertaining types of magazines most men read. No, these are like tranquilizers in print. I'm convinced all the technical mumbo-jumbo they're speaking in is actually secret codes to communicate with an alien species.
Shockingly, this time one of his magazines had something rather fascinating in it. An article from Harvard about your perceptions (implicit associations) about those around you. Not only was it not coma-inducing, it also had a link to several online quizzes.
There are a LOT of tests there. So far, I'm Swiss, baby! Totally neutral. Interesting. I'm fairly neutral about most everything cultural anyway.
Religion - what ever you choose. To me, they're all based on the same base concept. It's the details or the "rules" that people throw in that distinguishes one religion from another. I do not identify myself with any religion, and I see some merits in most of them. I do, however, believe in a higher power - I just have chosen to not define it. My only bias against religion is it's history rooted in greed and power, and when people think they're better than other people because of it.
Culture - I have no bias against culture. Heck, it fascinates me beyond words. I do have problems in the aberration of culture (when some cultures choose to include offing someone ritualistically, or abuse, etc. Discrimination is a sore point with me as well, but as I am not a part of their culture, if they - meaning all parties involved - like it that way, then it's none of my business and I'm back to being fascinated with their view point.)
Skin color - now that's just stupid. What the hell does color have to do with ANYTHING? People need to grow up. I LOVE various colors of skin. It may be the artist in me, but aesthetically speaking I just adore the variations of color. From one side of the spectrum to the other, it's beautiful.
Fat/Thin - (this was an interesting click though - again I was neutral - as on all I have taken thus far) This is to figure out whether you prefer the thin or fat visage. This, of course, taps into the deeper roots of prejudice on this basis. I wasn't sure how I was going to pan out on this one. Because I DO notice. I notice everyone though, I'm a people watcher. But I am aware when I am in a situation where people of various sizes are around me. So I wondered if that meant I would fall into a bad category. Apparently, I watch them equally enough to maintain my neutral status. Personally, I don't feel anything bad towards a severely over or under weight individual. But I DO have very strong feelings on the issue, though none in judgment of them personally. I think I tend to reflect more on myself in that situation. (HA! Another instance where I make it all about me! *sigh* I know it's a sickness.)
Presidents/Politics - apparently I AM biased against presidents. I think the majority of them are morons. The test is to determine public support for the office. As I view the office as bogus (including how it is elected) I suppose I don't do well here. It said I am neutral between the two presidents, but I don't really understand how that conveys whether I am supportive of the office of president or not.
Career/gender - I'd really like to know how other people scored on this one. I was starting to wonder if everyone scored neutral until I took it. Much as it pissed me off it said: "Your data suggest a moderate association of Male with Career and Female with Family compared to Female with Career and Male with Family." yeah yeah yeah, and I'm the one sitting at home with the kids. I KNOW! Bite me. Of course, on the otherhand - SOMEONE has to be here for the kids. It's one or the other really (as the primary caregiver, I'm not talking about staying home per-sey, as just being the one they run to and handles the majority of the family-management.) I am not entirely sure why this one irks me so much either. Maybe it's just the whole idea of the stereotypes and how that boxes people in.
I always was a rebel.
Anyway these are just some of the demonstration tests on that site - and you can actually register for the real tests and see what happens too. The trick is to really go as FAST as you can. The mistakes are telling, I suppose.
If anything, these tests are just damn interesting to consider and then give it a go. Apparently, some people find they are more prejudiced that they originally thought, and find certain leanings they weren't even aware of. It's just a way to wake up and be more aware of what you think deep down and how that translates to others everyday.
And if this is too brainy for you, Skiwgg posted a "Which Superhero Are you?" test you can take! I highly recommend it. ;) I came up with a three-way tie at 88% (I'm taking that to mean I have multiple personalities... Which, come to think of it - how many super-heros actually DID have multiple personalities???) I'm equally Batman, Lara Croft, and Captain Jack Sparrow - or a Rum Drinking, Black Leather Clad, Sword toting Queen of the Night.
yeah... I can see it too.
Shockingly, this time one of his magazines had something rather fascinating in it. An article from Harvard about your perceptions (implicit associations) about those around you. Not only was it not coma-inducing, it also had a link to several online quizzes.
There are a LOT of tests there. So far, I'm Swiss, baby! Totally neutral. Interesting. I'm fairly neutral about most everything cultural anyway.
Religion - what ever you choose. To me, they're all based on the same base concept. It's the details or the "rules" that people throw in that distinguishes one religion from another. I do not identify myself with any religion, and I see some merits in most of them. I do, however, believe in a higher power - I just have chosen to not define it. My only bias against religion is it's history rooted in greed and power, and when people think they're better than other people because of it.
Culture - I have no bias against culture. Heck, it fascinates me beyond words. I do have problems in the aberration of culture (when some cultures choose to include offing someone ritualistically, or abuse, etc. Discrimination is a sore point with me as well, but as I am not a part of their culture, if they - meaning all parties involved - like it that way, then it's none of my business and I'm back to being fascinated with their view point.)
Skin color - now that's just stupid. What the hell does color have to do with ANYTHING? People need to grow up. I LOVE various colors of skin. It may be the artist in me, but aesthetically speaking I just adore the variations of color. From one side of the spectrum to the other, it's beautiful.
Fat/Thin - (this was an interesting click though - again I was neutral - as on all I have taken thus far) This is to figure out whether you prefer the thin or fat visage. This, of course, taps into the deeper roots of prejudice on this basis. I wasn't sure how I was going to pan out on this one. Because I DO notice. I notice everyone though, I'm a people watcher. But I am aware when I am in a situation where people of various sizes are around me. So I wondered if that meant I would fall into a bad category. Apparently, I watch them equally enough to maintain my neutral status. Personally, I don't feel anything bad towards a severely over or under weight individual. But I DO have very strong feelings on the issue, though none in judgment of them personally. I think I tend to reflect more on myself in that situation. (HA! Another instance where I make it all about me! *sigh* I know it's a sickness.)
Presidents/Politics - apparently I AM biased against presidents. I think the majority of them are morons. The test is to determine public support for the office. As I view the office as bogus (including how it is elected) I suppose I don't do well here. It said I am neutral between the two presidents, but I don't really understand how that conveys whether I am supportive of the office of president or not.
Career/gender - I'd really like to know how other people scored on this one. I was starting to wonder if everyone scored neutral until I took it. Much as it pissed me off it said: "Your data suggest a moderate association of Male with Career and Female with Family compared to Female with Career and Male with Family." yeah yeah yeah, and I'm the one sitting at home with the kids. I KNOW! Bite me. Of course, on the otherhand - SOMEONE has to be here for the kids. It's one or the other really (as the primary caregiver, I'm not talking about staying home per-sey, as just being the one they run to and handles the majority of the family-management.) I am not entirely sure why this one irks me so much either. Maybe it's just the whole idea of the stereotypes and how that boxes people in.
I always was a rebel.
Anyway these are just some of the demonstration tests on that site - and you can actually register for the real tests and see what happens too. The trick is to really go as FAST as you can. The mistakes are telling, I suppose.
If anything, these tests are just damn interesting to consider and then give it a go. Apparently, some people find they are more prejudiced that they originally thought, and find certain leanings they weren't even aware of. It's just a way to wake up and be more aware of what you think deep down and how that translates to others everyday.
And if this is too brainy for you, Skiwgg posted a "Which Superhero Are you?" test you can take! I highly recommend it. ;) I came up with a three-way tie at 88% (I'm taking that to mean I have multiple personalities... Which, come to think of it - how many super-heros actually DID have multiple personalities???) I'm equally Batman, Lara Croft, and Captain Jack Sparrow - or a Rum Drinking, Black Leather Clad, Sword toting Queen of the Night.
yeah... I can see it too.
Friday, June 23, 2006
Fluff This!
I want to show everyone this article. It's about how someone out here on this side of the continent finally got a clue that marshmallow fluff is not a damn food group! I cannot tell you how ticked off I have been at our school system here whining about healthy food, and then serving this sludge to the kids. Seriously!
When my daughter was in kindergarten, it was just after Easter and I put a single hershy's kiss in her lunch box, as a treat from her Easter basket. The rest of her lunch was turkey breast on whole wheat, an apple, string cheese, baby carrots, and water. ONE FRIGGEN HERSHY'S KISS! Do you know what they did? They took it away from her (apparently ripping it out of her hands, according to the accounts from other kids and an adult in the room who reported the whole thing back to me) which resulted in tears and embarrassment in front of the other kids, as she was also subjected to a huge lecture on the evils of candy.
A nasty note came home with her that day admonishing my horrible parenting skills on how I fed my daughter, and to NEVER EVER send the evil-candy into school again. If I wished to subject my child to poor nutrition, I was to do it on my own time and in my own house.
Now, this school offers breakfast and snacks (there is a scheduled snack time until 7th grade out here) as well as lunch. Do you know what they consider healthy fare? A STAPLE is the peanutbutter and marshmallow fluff sandwiches. In addition to that, we also have the always available Chocolate muffins, pudding, brownies, and little cakes. Their main courses, in addition to the "fluffenutters" are things like pizza with grease dripping off it, ONLY WHITE BREAD when anything requires bread be a part of it, and butter on everything!
The lunch I sent with my daughter, just like all the others, was better than any of the junk they serve in that school. It's part of the reason that I refuse to let her buy lunch there! I realize that candy isn't part of a healthy diet, but a single hershy's kiss along with her healthy lunch, compared with what they serve doesn't even compete on the criminal act of nutrition scale. (I also have had no problem keeping it at home after that too, but what they did to her - and then preaching as if they were healthy just sent me over the edge. They actually suggested I pack twinkies or hostess cupcakes instead of that single Hershy's Kiss as a "healthy alternative" ??!?!?!?!)
What really stands out in my mind is how people will defend the fluff sandwiches to the death here. At one of the school picnics about a year ago, one of the teachers asked what my daughter used for mayo on her whole wheat & turkey sandwich (was it low-fat or regular, because if it wasn't low fat, I was again in violation of their nutritional standards - it was FF BTW, but they can kiss my ass.) She asked me this while BITING INTO a marshmallow fluff & peanutbutter sandwich on white bread, and half the kids around her too.
I did not grow up here in New England. I grew up in Colorado. I had NEVER heard of a fluff sandwich. Seriously, they only sold the fluff in the stores around Christmas for making fudge. That was it - a SEASONAL ITEM, folks! But out here, it is more common than jam on bread, AND it is considered "healthy". They can't explain it in healthy terms or back it up with anything, but they're absolutely willing to draw blood over the topic.It really brings home the fact that what you were raised around becomes what you consider the norm.
In the vein of thinking something is healthy, simply because you were raised around it is the factor that everyone has in common: bread. Everyone sees bread as a staple. Something that is just part of eating - in any place, or circumstance. It's probably the most deep rooted myth we have.
The truth is, bread does NOT sprout off of trees (except in the wizard of Oz. Oh, how I wanted to find a lunch-box-tree as a kid!) We make bread out of a ton of other things. It is PROCESSED. It is NOT a staple of a healthy diet. Yes, whole grain breads are better than white - but both are the sum of other ingredients, therefore NOT a staple. The same goes for pasta.
If you say this to another person who never really considered the subject before, they get really pale and sweaty, and start looking at you like you might "go postal" at any minute. Their fingers itch to dial 9-1-1 and ask if anyone escaped from the mental institution recently. People do not want to let go of their bread and pasta. As far as they're concerned, loaves of wonder probably DO grow on trees, they just have never made it to the orchard in person to see it.
They ought to establish rehab centers for people who are bread/pasta addicted. Add a "fluff-addiction-unit" out here, and we'd be set. (Of course, I'd have to check myself into the Chocolate-rehab center. I probably would never be released, come to think of it...)
When I saw this article, I yelled out "HA!!!" and ran upstairs to tell my husband all about it. Yes, I realize that because I am in zombie-fluff-land, that this guy will never get his way on restricting the "fluff" (though banning it would be better), but just to have it highlighted at all was a small vindication. I might just print it off and send it anonymously to my children's school.... (think they'll know it was me?)
When my daughter was in kindergarten, it was just after Easter and I put a single hershy's kiss in her lunch box, as a treat from her Easter basket. The rest of her lunch was turkey breast on whole wheat, an apple, string cheese, baby carrots, and water. ONE FRIGGEN HERSHY'S KISS! Do you know what they did? They took it away from her (apparently ripping it out of her hands, according to the accounts from other kids and an adult in the room who reported the whole thing back to me) which resulted in tears and embarrassment in front of the other kids, as she was also subjected to a huge lecture on the evils of candy.
A nasty note came home with her that day admonishing my horrible parenting skills on how I fed my daughter, and to NEVER EVER send the evil-candy into school again. If I wished to subject my child to poor nutrition, I was to do it on my own time and in my own house.
Now, this school offers breakfast and snacks (there is a scheduled snack time until 7th grade out here) as well as lunch. Do you know what they consider healthy fare? A STAPLE is the peanutbutter and marshmallow fluff sandwiches. In addition to that, we also have the always available Chocolate muffins, pudding, brownies, and little cakes. Their main courses, in addition to the "fluffenutters" are things like pizza with grease dripping off it, ONLY WHITE BREAD when anything requires bread be a part of it, and butter on everything!
The lunch I sent with my daughter, just like all the others, was better than any of the junk they serve in that school. It's part of the reason that I refuse to let her buy lunch there! I realize that candy isn't part of a healthy diet, but a single hershy's kiss along with her healthy lunch, compared with what they serve doesn't even compete on the criminal act of nutrition scale. (I also have had no problem keeping it at home after that too, but what they did to her - and then preaching as if they were healthy just sent me over the edge. They actually suggested I pack twinkies or hostess cupcakes instead of that single Hershy's Kiss as a "healthy alternative" ??!?!?!?!)
What really stands out in my mind is how people will defend the fluff sandwiches to the death here. At one of the school picnics about a year ago, one of the teachers asked what my daughter used for mayo on her whole wheat & turkey sandwich (was it low-fat or regular, because if it wasn't low fat, I was again in violation of their nutritional standards - it was FF BTW, but they can kiss my ass.) She asked me this while BITING INTO a marshmallow fluff & peanutbutter sandwich on white bread, and half the kids around her too.
I did not grow up here in New England. I grew up in Colorado. I had NEVER heard of a fluff sandwich. Seriously, they only sold the fluff in the stores around Christmas for making fudge. That was it - a SEASONAL ITEM, folks! But out here, it is more common than jam on bread, AND it is considered "healthy". They can't explain it in healthy terms or back it up with anything, but they're absolutely willing to draw blood over the topic.It really brings home the fact that what you were raised around becomes what you consider the norm.
In the vein of thinking something is healthy, simply because you were raised around it is the factor that everyone has in common: bread. Everyone sees bread as a staple. Something that is just part of eating - in any place, or circumstance. It's probably the most deep rooted myth we have.
The truth is, bread does NOT sprout off of trees (except in the wizard of Oz. Oh, how I wanted to find a lunch-box-tree as a kid!) We make bread out of a ton of other things. It is PROCESSED. It is NOT a staple of a healthy diet. Yes, whole grain breads are better than white - but both are the sum of other ingredients, therefore NOT a staple. The same goes for pasta.
If you say this to another person who never really considered the subject before, they get really pale and sweaty, and start looking at you like you might "go postal" at any minute. Their fingers itch to dial 9-1-1 and ask if anyone escaped from the mental institution recently. People do not want to let go of their bread and pasta. As far as they're concerned, loaves of wonder probably DO grow on trees, they just have never made it to the orchard in person to see it.
They ought to establish rehab centers for people who are bread/pasta addicted. Add a "fluff-addiction-unit" out here, and we'd be set. (Of course, I'd have to check myself into the Chocolate-rehab center. I probably would never be released, come to think of it...)
When I saw this article, I yelled out "HA!!!" and ran upstairs to tell my husband all about it. Yes, I realize that because I am in zombie-fluff-land, that this guy will never get his way on restricting the "fluff" (though banning it would be better), but just to have it highlighted at all was a small vindication. I might just print it off and send it anonymously to my children's school.... (think they'll know it was me?)
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Did Anyone Get The License Plate Of That Truck...?
Someone pick me up, and dust the tire-tread marks off my back, please! Wholly Molly, it has been a wild couple of days. I'm not even sure where to begin.
My parents came out, finally, for a brief visit. The moment they arrived, all my good nutritional intentions took a hike. It might have been related to self-preservation, except that the visit went wonderfully.
Because I am so excruciatingly ashamed of my lack of progress (or worse) via my weight, I didn't feel the need to mention anything I was doing, or my current dissatisfaction with myself. You have to understand that this has to be a first for me. Even at my most miserable, usually I'll babble about it to my mother. I hadn't really given much thought as to why, cause... You know... It's Mom!
What was absolutely eye-opening was how much THEY talked about weight (realize that both of my parents qualify for the label "obese", and have for a long time. They're not huge, by any means, just over the edge of the mark for the technical category, and it's a sensitive topic for them.) Every joke was turned on it's side and assumed to be a sly reference to weight in some manner (even though I tried endlessly to correct their mistaken impression. I mean, half of these I have NO idea how they even got there from here, and I just had to smack my head on the floor and yell "I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT!!! WTF!?!?!")
Food was probably the number one topic or occupation. It was absolutely INSANE! I don't know what the hell is wrong with me, but during all of this I ate more than I have in YEARS. At ONE FREAKIN' SITTING, even! I didn't even do this when my in-laws were here, for crying out loud!
They said the same thing about us, however; around us, they eat a lot. I love my parents dearly, so I am not sure if it is us, or them, or the combustible compound that we create when in the same zip-code that causes this. I know that my personal "food" issues go way back to growing up, and having to hide food in my room from my mother and brother (mom had an eating disorder, and was kinda loopy at the time - she doesn't have that same affliction now. My brother was a bottomless hole, a 6'6 beanpole who drew food to him like a blackhole, never to be seen again.) But this phenomenon when we are within eye sight of one another is something I'm going to have to think on more.
You know what else I realized? Living this way H-U-R-T-S. I'm not just speaking on emotional terms here (though I am ready to fling myself off a bridge at this point.) I mean it physically hurts. I carry water-weight like a camel, and my body swells when I eat junk. I'm swelled up like a stupid water-balloon, and every inch of my skin hurts. My digestion system is ticked off at me too, and I don't feel well in general. I am having more headaches, foot pain, ligament pain, asthma problems, you name it. Add my current mental state of abject misery over my own stupidity and I am one nasty blob of doom, my friends.
The climax of horror to all of this was this morning when I pulled on my jeans. My once loose jeans (as in loose three weeks ago). What I saw there, I shan't repeat in any description out of sensitivity for my readers. But I will tell you this; I have a relative who is a woman, who thinks that squeezing herself in men's jeans is great. I'm not talking about stealing your boyfriend's jeans and lounging about all sexy. I'm talking about deliberately buying ONLY men's jeans to wear, even though your body isn't shaped correctly for the cut. She also follows the common male pattern of thinking that she can keep a smaller size (waist measurement) pants, by allowing her gut to flow up and over it, and her sides... And anything else that tries to make it's escape from the jean-squeeze-of-death. When I looked in the mirror, I almost passed out at the visual image I presented. Suddenly, I COULD see a similarity between myself and this relative.
I almost flung myself out the window then and there.
I think the most disturbing thing about watching myself spin out of control, other than complete disgust at my own choices, is the terror that not only is my body going back to what it once was when I was 230 lbs, but that *I* would be going back to who *I* was then, personally.
This was about 10 years ago. I wasn't a happy person. I'm talking a seriously depressed, "my life is awful" person. I'm going to be damn blunt here; it was so bad I lined up pills on a counter numerous times, because it made me feel better to know that one small action could end the suffering I was experiencing. Completely. (If you haven't ever been to a point like that in your life, it's ok - let it go. If you have, then you and I have an understanding - don't we? No need to say any more.)
Now, let me make something clear right here and now - I AM NOT SAYING I WOULD FLING MYSELF OUT OF A WINDOW FOR BEING FAT. I am not saying that being fat is what depressed me in the first place. I am not saying that being fat devalues you as a person. We all clear? Good.
My life was horrible for a million reasons then. The LEAST of which was my weight. My weight was a symptom of how much my life sucked. I was lonely, miserable, I had a stalker, my marriage was shaky, I was scared a lot. I'd go on, but I have a feeling I have already scared the crap out of a lot of people.
So, in short - darkness like that isn't something that ever leaves a person. Not totally. It lurks. I have connected my weight (for good or bad) to who I become when I get sucked down. I think that is why my obsession with my weight is so strong. Why a number on a scale CAN ruin my whole day, and why a tight pair of jeans screaming in agony while I watch can send me into an absolute blind panic.
The worst part about all of that is that I had to wear those jeans to my college orientation today. I had to feel them begging for mercy as I sat through a surprise essay test. I had to ignore the pinch while I walked across campus and got my ID card photo taken (because I need another picture ID that doesn't look a friggen' thing like me! Come ON! If you are going to do picture ID's, why not...I dunno... USE A CAMERA THAT WORKS?!?! I'd settle for half the pixels being visible, even.)
You know what, though? I sat in a room packed with people who are moving forward. A whole room of them. Every single person in a seat there had a plan, a schedule, a purpose for being better off at the end of this than when they first walked in the doors. The feeling of possibility was everywhere, and even I, in my wallowing, wasn't immune.
Because I am one of them. I am driving so darn far to attend college. I am throwing my family into a stressful chaos. I am sacrificing my free time, my art time, my me time - for the future. Because I need to move forward. I need to improve myself. I need this.
It was then that I realized why I have been stagnant for so long on my weightloss efforts; what the hell was I improving anything for? I had lost any sense of moving forward, to becoming better, to accomplishing something worth being personally proud of. I had no where to go, and everyone else was leaving me behind. Weight is so insignificant when compared with that. People were changing jobs, proud of their promotions, graduating with degrees, having children, building houses,...And what? I was going to stand up, beat my chest and say "Oh yeah?? Well I'm a size SIX, baby! Check THAT out! HA!"
I get it.
I finally get it.
Tonight I am laying out my "life gameplan". It's not just a wish-list of everything I would love to have to go skipping through the daises (which I can't do without twisting an ankle anyway,) it's a road-map. Where I want to go. How to get there. The steps I need to take to make myself a better person inside and out. To make my life better inside and out. Weight plays a role, but for once - it's a small part of it. Luckily, with my registration, I already took a very big step down that road that will take me where I want to go. But even so, it was a hard one to take.
Maybe all of them will be, but I'm finally taking them.
I would apologize for the "dark" nature of my post, but I think it's important to understand where I am coming from (assuming you have made it this far into my book here, as it is.) I am not perfect (yeah, I know... DUH!) I have a very, VERY dark side, and once upon a time I almost drowned in it. I think I just came close to falling back into that ocean. More than that; I KNOW I am not the only one out there who has been, or is at those depths. No one EVER said to me back then that they understood where I was coming from - or could even grasp what it was like. So, this is out here because maybe someone else will see it and realize THEY aren't the only one.
My parents came out, finally, for a brief visit. The moment they arrived, all my good nutritional intentions took a hike. It might have been related to self-preservation, except that the visit went wonderfully.
Because I am so excruciatingly ashamed of my lack of progress (or worse) via my weight, I didn't feel the need to mention anything I was doing, or my current dissatisfaction with myself. You have to understand that this has to be a first for me. Even at my most miserable, usually I'll babble about it to my mother. I hadn't really given much thought as to why, cause... You know... It's Mom!
What was absolutely eye-opening was how much THEY talked about weight (realize that both of my parents qualify for the label "obese", and have for a long time. They're not huge, by any means, just over the edge of the mark for the technical category, and it's a sensitive topic for them.) Every joke was turned on it's side and assumed to be a sly reference to weight in some manner (even though I tried endlessly to correct their mistaken impression. I mean, half of these I have NO idea how they even got there from here, and I just had to smack my head on the floor and yell "I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT!!! WTF!?!?!")
Food was probably the number one topic or occupation. It was absolutely INSANE! I don't know what the hell is wrong with me, but during all of this I ate more than I have in YEARS. At ONE FREAKIN' SITTING, even! I didn't even do this when my in-laws were here, for crying out loud!
They said the same thing about us, however; around us, they eat a lot. I love my parents dearly, so I am not sure if it is us, or them, or the combustible compound that we create when in the same zip-code that causes this. I know that my personal "food" issues go way back to growing up, and having to hide food in my room from my mother and brother (mom had an eating disorder, and was kinda loopy at the time - she doesn't have that same affliction now. My brother was a bottomless hole, a 6'6 beanpole who drew food to him like a blackhole, never to be seen again.) But this phenomenon when we are within eye sight of one another is something I'm going to have to think on more.
You know what else I realized? Living this way H-U-R-T-S. I'm not just speaking on emotional terms here (though I am ready to fling myself off a bridge at this point.) I mean it physically hurts. I carry water-weight like a camel, and my body swells when I eat junk. I'm swelled up like a stupid water-balloon, and every inch of my skin hurts. My digestion system is ticked off at me too, and I don't feel well in general. I am having more headaches, foot pain, ligament pain, asthma problems, you name it. Add my current mental state of abject misery over my own stupidity and I am one nasty blob of doom, my friends.
The climax of horror to all of this was this morning when I pulled on my jeans. My once loose jeans (as in loose three weeks ago). What I saw there, I shan't repeat in any description out of sensitivity for my readers. But I will tell you this; I have a relative who is a woman, who thinks that squeezing herself in men's jeans is great. I'm not talking about stealing your boyfriend's jeans and lounging about all sexy. I'm talking about deliberately buying ONLY men's jeans to wear, even though your body isn't shaped correctly for the cut. She also follows the common male pattern of thinking that she can keep a smaller size (waist measurement) pants, by allowing her gut to flow up and over it, and her sides... And anything else that tries to make it's escape from the jean-squeeze-of-death. When I looked in the mirror, I almost passed out at the visual image I presented. Suddenly, I COULD see a similarity between myself and this relative.
I almost flung myself out the window then and there.
I think the most disturbing thing about watching myself spin out of control, other than complete disgust at my own choices, is the terror that not only is my body going back to what it once was when I was 230 lbs, but that *I* would be going back to who *I* was then, personally.
This was about 10 years ago. I wasn't a happy person. I'm talking a seriously depressed, "my life is awful" person. I'm going to be damn blunt here; it was so bad I lined up pills on a counter numerous times, because it made me feel better to know that one small action could end the suffering I was experiencing. Completely. (If you haven't ever been to a point like that in your life, it's ok - let it go. If you have, then you and I have an understanding - don't we? No need to say any more.)
Now, let me make something clear right here and now - I AM NOT SAYING I WOULD FLING MYSELF OUT OF A WINDOW FOR BEING FAT. I am not saying that being fat is what depressed me in the first place. I am not saying that being fat devalues you as a person. We all clear? Good.
My life was horrible for a million reasons then. The LEAST of which was my weight. My weight was a symptom of how much my life sucked. I was lonely, miserable, I had a stalker, my marriage was shaky, I was scared a lot. I'd go on, but I have a feeling I have already scared the crap out of a lot of people.
So, in short - darkness like that isn't something that ever leaves a person. Not totally. It lurks. I have connected my weight (for good or bad) to who I become when I get sucked down. I think that is why my obsession with my weight is so strong. Why a number on a scale CAN ruin my whole day, and why a tight pair of jeans screaming in agony while I watch can send me into an absolute blind panic.
The worst part about all of that is that I had to wear those jeans to my college orientation today. I had to feel them begging for mercy as I sat through a surprise essay test. I had to ignore the pinch while I walked across campus and got my ID card photo taken (because I need another picture ID that doesn't look a friggen' thing like me! Come ON! If you are going to do picture ID's, why not...I dunno... USE A CAMERA THAT WORKS?!?! I'd settle for half the pixels being visible, even.)
You know what, though? I sat in a room packed with people who are moving forward. A whole room of them. Every single person in a seat there had a plan, a schedule, a purpose for being better off at the end of this than when they first walked in the doors. The feeling of possibility was everywhere, and even I, in my wallowing, wasn't immune.
Because I am one of them. I am driving so darn far to attend college. I am throwing my family into a stressful chaos. I am sacrificing my free time, my art time, my me time - for the future. Because I need to move forward. I need to improve myself. I need this.
It was then that I realized why I have been stagnant for so long on my weightloss efforts; what the hell was I improving anything for? I had lost any sense of moving forward, to becoming better, to accomplishing something worth being personally proud of. I had no where to go, and everyone else was leaving me behind. Weight is so insignificant when compared with that. People were changing jobs, proud of their promotions, graduating with degrees, having children, building houses,...And what? I was going to stand up, beat my chest and say "Oh yeah?? Well I'm a size SIX, baby! Check THAT out! HA!"
I get it.
I finally get it.
Tonight I am laying out my "life gameplan". It's not just a wish-list of everything I would love to have to go skipping through the daises (which I can't do without twisting an ankle anyway,) it's a road-map. Where I want to go. How to get there. The steps I need to take to make myself a better person inside and out. To make my life better inside and out. Weight plays a role, but for once - it's a small part of it. Luckily, with my registration, I already took a very big step down that road that will take me where I want to go. But even so, it was a hard one to take.
Maybe all of them will be, but I'm finally taking them.
I would apologize for the "dark" nature of my post, but I think it's important to understand where I am coming from (assuming you have made it this far into my book here, as it is.) I am not perfect (yeah, I know... DUH!) I have a very, VERY dark side, and once upon a time I almost drowned in it. I think I just came close to falling back into that ocean. More than that; I KNOW I am not the only one out there who has been, or is at those depths. No one EVER said to me back then that they understood where I was coming from - or could even grasp what it was like. So, this is out here because maybe someone else will see it and realize THEY aren't the only one.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Showdown
There we stood. Eye to eye. Nose to nose. Toe to toe.
His left eye twitched. I raised my eyebrow mockingly.
His jaw tightened into an irritated frown. I smirked.
I saw him clench and unclench his hands repeatedly. I knew he wasn't going to win this one, and I folded my arms in an arrogant gesture of finality.
He sputtered, trying to utter something coherent, but his shoulders slumped in defeat. He knew he was beaten. With his gaze redirected at the floor, he gave an exasperated sigh and turned away.
To his retreating back, I shouted out "RED CARD! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEJECTED!!!!"
(I'm a soccer-widow. I'm sure there are more USA Football - pigskin- widows than soccer widows, but it's the same concept. Believe me. And it's World Cup Season right now... *rolling eyes*)
He may have been cussing at me under his breath before I said anything, but at that comment he busted up laughing and exited with a little more grace to hit the showers.
How did it come to this? Why were we having a showdown at 5:15 AM?
Mr. Rocket Scientist decided to join me this morning for Kenpo. About half way through it, he noticed his knee was swollen. He commented on it. I asked if it hurt ("Yes, it does, duuuuuuh" - he's so eloquent on no sleep.) I then stopped everything, and threw him out of the workout.
No, not because he was speaking like a snotty five year old. Because his knee was injured. Listen up, folks, because you may just learn something.
I realize, in this day and age, that getting people to workout is darn near the equivalent of walking on water. 90% of people don't exercise on a regular basis. I think they're considering sainthood for several of the workout guru's. So when people actually exercise, no one wants to do anything to interfere with that - ESPECIALLY the person who is working out, once they have committed to it.
By committed, I'm talking beyond the point of trying to reason that channel surfing should be an olypmic sport in order to get out of your workout. Beyond making up any excuse, pop, crack or twinge as a reason to bail. We're talking actually wanting - no matter how much it sucks - to start and finish your workout.
It does happen, and when it does we have a new problem; KNOWING WHEN TO STOP.
There is a difference between being uncomfortable, and having a problem. Pain comes in different forms and levels with exercise. Some are worth working through. If you push through certain kinds of discomfort and "pain" - you can achieve a whole new level of conditioning. You can reach goals you had once thought were impossible. You can accomplish something worth bragging about.
However, if you push through the wrong kind of pain, you can cause serious damage. Permanent damage. The trick is to know which is which, and to use your brain.
I realize exercise is often a mindless pursuit. Let's face it, it's better when it's mindless. I know I am not the only one who tries to avoid engaging my thought processes while working out because it often leads to thoughts like "This is STUPID. I suck. What's the point? WHY would I want to be able to put my ankles behind my head (yoga) - this is NOT going on my resume, for crying out loud. I should be cleaning the bathrooms. Painting that commission. Grocery shopping. Reading. Sleeping. Anything...."
Instead, we put on a mental recording that plays automatically. Something along the lines of "I can do this. I am stronger. I am kicking butt! I WILL DO THIS!" We put it on loud in our heads, to the exclusion of all else, so we can finish our workout strong. But this can get in the way of intelligent decision making, should an injury arise.
The first step is to know your body. It is unbelievably important to know your limitations. A limitation is simply a statement of what you can safely do RIGHT NOW. That doesn't mean that you can't change your limitations, exceed them eventually. It's just an awareness of where you are today. Your limitations will change as your abilities change, you age, your health, etc.
You must monitor yourself, no one is going to do it for you. You only have one body. Respect that fact, and pay attention. You are your own client.
Next, you need to be able to HEAR your body. Yes, hear. You need to be aware of when you take a step, what feels right and what feels wrong? You need to know when you reach out what is too far, and when you could reach higher. Tapping into your body, and listening to what it has to tell you is an important tool to getting yourself to your highest level.
Every day is a new day to achieve. If you aren't listening, how will you know when you do? You need to hear everything your body has to tell you. You can't just listen to the times when you should be pushing harder. You need to listen to your body when it tells you something is wrong and it's had enough. This is equally, or even more important, than knowing when to push through.
The types of pain you push through are as follows;
* Burning: This is the pain that comes when your muscles are tired, and trying to eke out the last repetitions of the movement you are engaged in. When you start to wonder if you can do it -if you are going to fail, this is when you need to reach deep down and tell yourself, "Yes, Dammit, I can! Now, DO IT!"
* Tiredness: This can feel mildly (MILDLY) painful, or more likely just simply uncomfortable. This is when you need to mentally kick your own butt. You need to become a drill sergeant and tell your lazy self to knock it off and pull it together, you big baby!
* Discomfort: It comes in many forms, but is not truthfully painful. There is a big difference in being uncomfortable and being in pain. Know it.
* Stitch: The proverbial stitch in the side. Now, this one is a bit tricky. It is on both lists. The light stitch is one that isn't fun, but perhaps will go away on it's own. You adjust your breathing or movement. You straighten your posture, etc. If it lessens, you work through it.
The types of pain you IMMEDIATELY need to stop for:
* Stitch - painful. I mean very painful. Or, you try working through it and it gets worse. Or it starts to tighten. You NEED TO STOP. Yes, a serious stitch can actually cause a serious injury. Again, know the difference between the one you can work through and the one you need to stop for and then restart when it eases.
* Back pain. The back is tricky. You can screw things up so severely, before you even know what you are really dealing with. If you notice extra tension or discomfort in your back - tighten your abdominal muscles. Adjust your pelvis so it is neutral - tipping neither forwards or backwards - no arch in your back. Look at your feet and your stance, and straighten your shoulders. Then, again, focus on tightening your abs. If this doesn't relieve the problem - even if it's not severe - STOP.
* Sharp pain that doesn't stop, or leaves but then something feels off about the area it occurred in. From tightness to a weird numbness. STOP. What this almost always is, is an injury (initial pain), then a relief of pain (natural painkillers in your body, aka endorphines) but you can tell something is wrong by the tightness/numbness/odd feeling in the spot. The body is working on reacting to the injury. It is sheer stupidity to go on. You WILL make it worse. You can turn a small injury, that might only take a few hours or a day to recover from, into something that could take weeks or even months to fix. S-T-O-P!!!! This is the most common pain people work through, and end up really seriously hurting themselves. This is the one they talk themselves through, because it doesn't hurt as bad as it initially did. Don't be stupid. Respect your limitations. Be a responsible body manager, and come back to fight tomorrow healthy.
* Numbness and/or swelling. If it's swelling, it's injured. I don't care if it doesn't hurt - STOP! If it feels like it's pulled and/or there is an odd numbness about it - STOP! If there is a strange pulling sensation through a joint, and it feels like the joint itself isn't working right - STOP! (this last one needs to be looked at closer. It may simply be how you were performing the movement, and you can correct it without issue. But if the off sensation remains, you have injured the joint, and you need to call it a day.)
It's true, that to achieve more, you need to override the mental limits you have set on yourself. To achieve greatness, you must exceed what you thought was your best. But that doesn't mean you disregard your common sense, and respect for the amazing machine that your body is. This can take some practice - knowing when to push, and when to pull back. But when you learn it, and practice it, it's absolutely the most important skill in an exercise program.
So, if you have a day where your muscles are burning - mentally slap yourself and tell yourself you that are stronger than this, and get it done! And if you have a day that pain intrudes on, mentally slap yourself and respect your body and health. Take care of the problem by backing down. This isn't an all or nothing proposition. This is your life, and it's about balance. An injury isn't success, it's something that needs your care and attention. Pushing through legitimate pain isn't "pushing through to failure" as we're told to do to recondition our bodies. It's BEING a failure.
Choose to be a success instead. Respect thyself.
His left eye twitched. I raised my eyebrow mockingly.
His jaw tightened into an irritated frown. I smirked.
I saw him clench and unclench his hands repeatedly. I knew he wasn't going to win this one, and I folded my arms in an arrogant gesture of finality.
He sputtered, trying to utter something coherent, but his shoulders slumped in defeat. He knew he was beaten. With his gaze redirected at the floor, he gave an exasperated sigh and turned away.
To his retreating back, I shouted out "RED CARD! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEJECTED!!!!"
(I'm a soccer-widow. I'm sure there are more USA Football - pigskin- widows than soccer widows, but it's the same concept. Believe me. And it's World Cup Season right now... *rolling eyes*)
He may have been cussing at me under his breath before I said anything, but at that comment he busted up laughing and exited with a little more grace to hit the showers.
How did it come to this? Why were we having a showdown at 5:15 AM?
Mr. Rocket Scientist decided to join me this morning for Kenpo. About half way through it, he noticed his knee was swollen. He commented on it. I asked if it hurt ("Yes, it does, duuuuuuh" - he's so eloquent on no sleep.) I then stopped everything, and threw him out of the workout.
No, not because he was speaking like a snotty five year old. Because his knee was injured. Listen up, folks, because you may just learn something.
I realize, in this day and age, that getting people to workout is darn near the equivalent of walking on water. 90% of people don't exercise on a regular basis. I think they're considering sainthood for several of the workout guru's. So when people actually exercise, no one wants to do anything to interfere with that - ESPECIALLY the person who is working out, once they have committed to it.
By committed, I'm talking beyond the point of trying to reason that channel surfing should be an olypmic sport in order to get out of your workout. Beyond making up any excuse, pop, crack or twinge as a reason to bail. We're talking actually wanting - no matter how much it sucks - to start and finish your workout.
It does happen, and when it does we have a new problem; KNOWING WHEN TO STOP.
There is a difference between being uncomfortable, and having a problem. Pain comes in different forms and levels with exercise. Some are worth working through. If you push through certain kinds of discomfort and "pain" - you can achieve a whole new level of conditioning. You can reach goals you had once thought were impossible. You can accomplish something worth bragging about.
However, if you push through the wrong kind of pain, you can cause serious damage. Permanent damage. The trick is to know which is which, and to use your brain.
I realize exercise is often a mindless pursuit. Let's face it, it's better when it's mindless. I know I am not the only one who tries to avoid engaging my thought processes while working out because it often leads to thoughts like "This is STUPID. I suck. What's the point? WHY would I want to be able to put my ankles behind my head (yoga) - this is NOT going on my resume, for crying out loud. I should be cleaning the bathrooms. Painting that commission. Grocery shopping. Reading. Sleeping. Anything...."
Instead, we put on a mental recording that plays automatically. Something along the lines of "I can do this. I am stronger. I am kicking butt! I WILL DO THIS!" We put it on loud in our heads, to the exclusion of all else, so we can finish our workout strong. But this can get in the way of intelligent decision making, should an injury arise.
The first step is to know your body. It is unbelievably important to know your limitations. A limitation is simply a statement of what you can safely do RIGHT NOW. That doesn't mean that you can't change your limitations, exceed them eventually. It's just an awareness of where you are today. Your limitations will change as your abilities change, you age, your health, etc.
You must monitor yourself, no one is going to do it for you. You only have one body. Respect that fact, and pay attention. You are your own client.
Next, you need to be able to HEAR your body. Yes, hear. You need to be aware of when you take a step, what feels right and what feels wrong? You need to know when you reach out what is too far, and when you could reach higher. Tapping into your body, and listening to what it has to tell you is an important tool to getting yourself to your highest level.
Every day is a new day to achieve. If you aren't listening, how will you know when you do? You need to hear everything your body has to tell you. You can't just listen to the times when you should be pushing harder. You need to listen to your body when it tells you something is wrong and it's had enough. This is equally, or even more important, than knowing when to push through.
The types of pain you push through are as follows;
* Burning: This is the pain that comes when your muscles are tired, and trying to eke out the last repetitions of the movement you are engaged in. When you start to wonder if you can do it -if you are going to fail, this is when you need to reach deep down and tell yourself, "Yes, Dammit, I can! Now, DO IT!"
* Tiredness: This can feel mildly (MILDLY) painful, or more likely just simply uncomfortable. This is when you need to mentally kick your own butt. You need to become a drill sergeant and tell your lazy self to knock it off and pull it together, you big baby!
* Discomfort: It comes in many forms, but is not truthfully painful. There is a big difference in being uncomfortable and being in pain. Know it.
* Stitch: The proverbial stitch in the side. Now, this one is a bit tricky. It is on both lists. The light stitch is one that isn't fun, but perhaps will go away on it's own. You adjust your breathing or movement. You straighten your posture, etc. If it lessens, you work through it.
The types of pain you IMMEDIATELY need to stop for:
* Stitch - painful. I mean very painful. Or, you try working through it and it gets worse. Or it starts to tighten. You NEED TO STOP. Yes, a serious stitch can actually cause a serious injury. Again, know the difference between the one you can work through and the one you need to stop for and then restart when it eases.
* Back pain. The back is tricky. You can screw things up so severely, before you even know what you are really dealing with. If you notice extra tension or discomfort in your back - tighten your abdominal muscles. Adjust your pelvis so it is neutral - tipping neither forwards or backwards - no arch in your back. Look at your feet and your stance, and straighten your shoulders. Then, again, focus on tightening your abs. If this doesn't relieve the problem - even if it's not severe - STOP.
* Sharp pain that doesn't stop, or leaves but then something feels off about the area it occurred in. From tightness to a weird numbness. STOP. What this almost always is, is an injury (initial pain), then a relief of pain (natural painkillers in your body, aka endorphines) but you can tell something is wrong by the tightness/numbness/odd feeling in the spot. The body is working on reacting to the injury. It is sheer stupidity to go on. You WILL make it worse. You can turn a small injury, that might only take a few hours or a day to recover from, into something that could take weeks or even months to fix. S-T-O-P!!!! This is the most common pain people work through, and end up really seriously hurting themselves. This is the one they talk themselves through, because it doesn't hurt as bad as it initially did. Don't be stupid. Respect your limitations. Be a responsible body manager, and come back to fight tomorrow healthy.
* Numbness and/or swelling. If it's swelling, it's injured. I don't care if it doesn't hurt - STOP! If it feels like it's pulled and/or there is an odd numbness about it - STOP! If there is a strange pulling sensation through a joint, and it feels like the joint itself isn't working right - STOP! (this last one needs to be looked at closer. It may simply be how you were performing the movement, and you can correct it without issue. But if the off sensation remains, you have injured the joint, and you need to call it a day.)
It's true, that to achieve more, you need to override the mental limits you have set on yourself. To achieve greatness, you must exceed what you thought was your best. But that doesn't mean you disregard your common sense, and respect for the amazing machine that your body is. This can take some practice - knowing when to push, and when to pull back. But when you learn it, and practice it, it's absolutely the most important skill in an exercise program.
So, if you have a day where your muscles are burning - mentally slap yourself and tell yourself you that are stronger than this, and get it done! And if you have a day that pain intrudes on, mentally slap yourself and respect your body and health. Take care of the problem by backing down. This isn't an all or nothing proposition. This is your life, and it's about balance. An injury isn't success, it's something that needs your care and attention. Pushing through legitimate pain isn't "pushing through to failure" as we're told to do to recondition our bodies. It's BEING a failure.
Choose to be a success instead. Respect thyself.
Monday, June 19, 2006
Lockdown!!!
You have GOT to check this out:
Yes, you can actually imprison your chocolate now. But apparently, only up to 24 hours. This baby gives chocolate a get out of jail free card every time the timer is up.
But WAIT! There is more! Should you try to break into the jar early, it actually electrically SHOCKS YOU. 
Ha! I love it!
Do they have one for husbands? (of course, I don't see any airholes in that thing... I might suffocate in there... Stop cheering. I mean it.)
Saturday, June 17, 2006
Amazons Unite!
Last night, as I watched my fabulous Friday night fizzle into non-existence, I flipped on the television. Oh the excitement of being over 30, and married with children. *yawn*
*snore*
What?
There was a program on the real Amazon Warrior Women (no, I'm not talk about Zena, The Warrior Princess. Though you have to admit, there was a brief moment where we all pictured ourselves in that leather outfit, and then giggled inanely over it.) This was on the real Amazons;
"A tribe of bloodthirsty blond women thundering across arid battlefields to the horror of their male foes, has lingered for centuries. Their exploits seized the imagination of the Greek scribes Homer, Hippocrates, and Herodotus."
Now, granted, the various descriptions out there of Amazons and their descendants don't bode well for those bearing a Y chromosome;
"From 7,000 years ago women started to organize small empires in the northern villages of Iran. These women always chose their husbands from out of their villages and after one year living with them, they usually beheaded those poor men and used their bloods to fertilize their farms."
"In Greek Mythology, a race of warlike women who excluded men from their society. The Amazons occasionally had sexual relations with men of neighboring states, and all male children born to them were sent to their fathers or killed. The girls were trained as archers for war, and the custom of burning off the right breast was practiced to facilitate bending the bow, hence the name Amazon, derived from the Greek word for breastless. In art, however, they are depicted as beautiful with no apparent mutilation. Ancient art, such as that on temple friezes, vases, and sarcophagi, usually presents them in battle scenes. According to legend, they were almost constantly at war with Greece and fought other nations as well. According to one version, they were allied with the Trojans, and during the siege of Troy their queen was slain by the Greek warrior Achilles. Some scholars who attribute a historical foundation to the legends identify the country of the Amazons with Scythia or Asia Minor on the shores of the Black Sea."
I have to admit, I didn't realize the word Amazon was derived from the whole "no breast" thing. Does that mean my bra is a mazon-holder? *ahem* Nevermind...
Anyway, it seems the opposition was more into protesting that the women had little use for men, and just as much drive and ambition for power, than it was over whether they actually existed. I mean, how dare they not think men were the answer to all their problems back then, and act like the cattle they were! The nerve!
I'm sorry, were my feminism undies showing? Pardon me.
This brought me around to thinking about how a lot of men perceive strong women today. Not just in a power position, but physically. How many women have been told that muscle is disgusting? That to be thin and fragile is your goal?
I am not a muscle-goddess by any stretch of the word, but even I get little nasty comments whenever I post a picture of myself flexing. Or when I post what my current weightlifting stats are (i.e. I can bench over 200 pounds- 1RM, etc.) These comments tend to run the gambit of how disgusting that is/I am. How ugly I look. How women aren't supposed to look and/or be strong, and what a bitch I am.
Bitch
Yep, that is me. That, I will freely admit. Because in this day and age anyone who has a strong enough opinion that they stand up for, and who will defend themselves, is considered a "bitch". I'm not talking about those people who bulldoze over everyone in the quest of getting their own way. I'm just talking about the women who are strong in themselves. I wish they would have kept the term bitch exclusively to the women who really don't care about other people, because we need one for them. But instead, every strong willed woman has been inducted into the Bitch-club.
Strong? Yeah, I'm that too. I'm strong because I can be. Because it serves me in my life. My children are five and eight years old, and I can still lift them into my arms and carry them if I want. Both, at the same time, even. In my daughter's class I have not seen a single other mother pick up her child, but I have seen them tell their child that they're too heavy to pick up and to stop asking. I'm also strong of mind and opinion, just incase you had missed that up until now.
How disgusting that makes me. How horrible.
And I have muscles. That show. Yes I do, there isn't any use in denying it. I wouldn't want to. I worked hard dammit. I don't compete, and NO, I don't want to look like a man (so the person who sent that comment can go choke on it.) Men don't have the exclusive right to muscularity, and neither do fitness models.
I realize that the general school of thought is that women should be as tiny as possible. Frail. Fragile. Made out of spun glass. Subdued. Genteel. Heck, judging from the tabloids, if they look as if they are hovering on the brink of death due to starvation - kudos, baby!
I was never a small girl. I was never frail. I'm 5'10, and I have towered over the majority of people for most of my life. I remember a boy in my sixth grade class who was smidgenon shorter than I was, and often they patted him on the head saying "what a tall man he's going to grow up to be. How wonderful!" In my case, I inevitably got something to the tune of "Wow, you are a tall girl. What a shame. But you know, if you can keep your weight to about 100 lbs, there are some girls with your unfortunate height who used it to their advantage."
Even to this day, I use the term Amazon in regards to myself in chagrin. Because I am tall. Because I am strong. And because neither one of those things seems acceptable.
Maybe it's time for a new kind of Amazon. A redefinition of the term, into today's society. I'm not a bitch. I'm not disgusting.
I am strong, of mind and body.
I'm an Amazon.
Hmm... it has a rather nice ring to it.
Yes, I just made my own button. If you want to use it for this purpose, go ahead. (Your height doesn't matter, it's not about that.) If you do use it, link it back to this post (so people get the point.) I've decided I really like the term Amazon. Of course, if enough women use it, we might scare the men into thinking we're plotting world domination... wouldn't want to let them in on that little secret...
*snore*
What?
There was a program on the real Amazon Warrior Women (no, I'm not talk about Zena, The Warrior Princess. Though you have to admit, there was a brief moment where we all pictured ourselves in that leather outfit, and then giggled inanely over it.) This was on the real Amazons;
"A tribe of bloodthirsty blond women thundering across arid battlefields to the horror of their male foes, has lingered for centuries. Their exploits seized the imagination of the Greek scribes Homer, Hippocrates, and Herodotus."
The focus of the program was on trying to prove that Amazons actually existed. What surprised me was the vehemence of the men who denied that they did. I mean, it wasn't a simple matter of disagreement over the fact, they were downright livid over it.
So, that set me to thinking (I know, I know. It happens every now and then. Watch out!) It truly does amaze me that some men are that upset about whether a culture of strong women who excluded men existed or not. When I did some poking around on the internet, the opposition was really quite vicious.Now, granted, the various descriptions out there of Amazons and their descendants don't bode well for those bearing a Y chromosome;
"From 7,000 years ago women started to organize small empires in the northern villages of Iran. These women always chose their husbands from out of their villages and after one year living with them, they usually beheaded those poor men and used their bloods to fertilize their farms."
"In Greek Mythology, a race of warlike women who excluded men from their society. The Amazons occasionally had sexual relations with men of neighboring states, and all male children born to them were sent to their fathers or killed. The girls were trained as archers for war, and the custom of burning off the right breast was practiced to facilitate bending the bow, hence the name Amazon, derived from the Greek word for breastless. In art, however, they are depicted as beautiful with no apparent mutilation. Ancient art, such as that on temple friezes, vases, and sarcophagi, usually presents them in battle scenes. According to legend, they were almost constantly at war with Greece and fought other nations as well. According to one version, they were allied with the Trojans, and during the siege of Troy their queen was slain by the Greek warrior Achilles. Some scholars who attribute a historical foundation to the legends identify the country of the Amazons with Scythia or Asia Minor on the shores of the Black Sea."
I have to admit, I didn't realize the word Amazon was derived from the whole "no breast" thing. Does that mean my bra is a mazon-holder? *ahem* Nevermind...
Anyway, it seems the opposition was more into protesting that the women had little use for men, and just as much drive and ambition for power, than it was over whether they actually existed. I mean, how dare they not think men were the answer to all their problems back then, and act like the cattle they were! The nerve!
I'm sorry, were my feminism undies showing? Pardon me.
This brought me around to thinking about how a lot of men perceive strong women today. Not just in a power position, but physically. How many women have been told that muscle is disgusting? That to be thin and fragile is your goal?
I am not a muscle-goddess by any stretch of the word, but even I get little nasty comments whenever I post a picture of myself flexing. Or when I post what my current weightlifting stats are (i.e. I can bench over 200 pounds- 1RM, etc.) These comments tend to run the gambit of how disgusting that is/I am. How ugly I look. How women aren't supposed to look and/or be strong, and what a bitch I am.
Bitch
Yep, that is me. That, I will freely admit. Because in this day and age anyone who has a strong enough opinion that they stand up for, and who will defend themselves, is considered a "bitch". I'm not talking about those people who bulldoze over everyone in the quest of getting their own way. I'm just talking about the women who are strong in themselves. I wish they would have kept the term bitch exclusively to the women who really don't care about other people, because we need one for them. But instead, every strong willed woman has been inducted into the Bitch-club.
Strong? Yeah, I'm that too. I'm strong because I can be. Because it serves me in my life. My children are five and eight years old, and I can still lift them into my arms and carry them if I want. Both, at the same time, even. In my daughter's class I have not seen a single other mother pick up her child, but I have seen them tell their child that they're too heavy to pick up and to stop asking. I'm also strong of mind and opinion, just incase you had missed that up until now.
How disgusting that makes me. How horrible.
And I have muscles. That show. Yes I do, there isn't any use in denying it. I wouldn't want to. I worked hard dammit. I don't compete, and NO, I don't want to look like a man (so the person who sent that comment can go choke on it.) Men don't have the exclusive right to muscularity, and neither do fitness models.
I realize that the general school of thought is that women should be as tiny as possible. Frail. Fragile. Made out of spun glass. Subdued. Genteel. Heck, judging from the tabloids, if they look as if they are hovering on the brink of death due to starvation - kudos, baby!
I was never a small girl. I was never frail. I'm 5'10, and I have towered over the majority of people for most of my life. I remember a boy in my sixth grade class who was smidgenon shorter than I was, and often they patted him on the head saying "what a tall man he's going to grow up to be. How wonderful!" In my case, I inevitably got something to the tune of "Wow, you are a tall girl. What a shame. But you know, if you can keep your weight to about 100 lbs, there are some girls with your unfortunate height who used it to their advantage."
Even to this day, I use the term Amazon in regards to myself in chagrin. Because I am tall. Because I am strong. And because neither one of those things seems acceptable.
Maybe it's time for a new kind of Amazon. A redefinition of the term, into today's society. I'm not a bitch. I'm not disgusting.
I am strong, of mind and body.
I'm an Amazon.
Hmm... it has a rather nice ring to it.
Yes, I just made my own button. If you want to use it for this purpose, go ahead. (Your height doesn't matter, it's not about that.) If you do use it, link it back to this post (so people get the point.) I've decided I really like the term Amazon. Of course, if enough women use it, we might scare the men into thinking we're plotting world domination... wouldn't want to let them in on that little secret...