You know we're really in a recession when you catch the "wealthy-folk" at the local home and garden store having a conversation outside that literally goes as follows...
"So, uh... you're looking at these models here, then?"
"Yes, yes I am. Do you know much about them?"
"Well, no. Actually, to be honest Jim, I haven't been here before. My wife has, I think. For flowers or some such nonsense."
"Ah, well... They seem to have a nice selection... right? This is what is out there, these are good options, you think?"
Both men in their perfectly pressed khakis, Polo shirts, and $500 designer leather penny loafers, tipped back and forth on the balls of their feet, contemplating the lawn mowers.
"So... you're really going to do it then?"
"Yes."
"You're really going to start... mowing your lawn yourself?"
"Yes... Yes I am! *sigh*"
"It's a damn shame the recession is hitting us all so hard like this."
I had to duck behind an aisle display of chicken feed at this point so I didn't die laughing in front of the blue-bloods. *Scarlette O'Hara sigh* Imagine, having to go out and buy a $1500 lawn mower because you can't afford the $400 per week to have your lawn mowed.
Alright, I suppose I'm not being fair. Their whole lives are being altered by having to mow their own lawns, something they probably haven't done... well, quite possibly ever, I suppose. The thing is, unless I had acres and acres of perfectly landscaped yard (I have acres and acres of UNlandscaped yard), I just can't imagine paying someone so much money just to cut the grass (I mow our yard, not Mr. Savy - he gets the treat of trimming the poisonous plants around the edges.) It's just one of those things that is beyond my comprehension. Even if I was a millionaire, I'd probably still be out there with the mower myself. I'm uncouth like that.
In other news, it seems that I have started a new personal tradition. About once every 2-3 months, I injure my back/neck and cannot move for a few days. Sometimes I know how I did it, but usually I have no idea. I have a suspicion that this injury today stems from my new toy.
That's right... I have a new toy. I couldn't help it. I had just sold some artwork and I was in the K-Mart with my son looking for laundry soap when I saw it. A giant aisle of clearance stuff, and there they were...three giant boxes. Inside these boxes were 6' free standing, flexible punching bags and glove sets. On CLEARANCE! Major clearance (75% off. We're talking less than the cost of dinner.)
I bought one. I have wanted one for a long time. My hanging bag is like cement and I don't have the room to do proper kicks with it where it's installed. This one should be perfect for what I need. However, moving the heavy and unwieldy box (I can sit in the box with my son, that's how big it is) around while in three inch heels by myself was probably not the best choice I ever made. I figure my balance was all wrong, and I probably tweaked something. Then weightlifting last night just pushed my vertebrae over the edge.
However, my injury is in such a spot that I have the best posture you have ever seen! I cannot slouch at ALL. Of course, I can't move either. There's always a trade-off.
I'm going to be putting together my new toy today. I need 250lbs of sand to anchor the base, and I think I only bought 120 lbs. And yes, I'm stupid enough to be slinging around the 60lbs bags of sand myself because I move heavier things all the time... of course, I'm not injured normally. I'll take pictures tonight of my new toy, and you can see my perfect posture... unless I get stuck on the floor. Then I might only have pictures of my ceiling to share.
Monday, April 14, 2008
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6 comments:
Oh, a punching bag sounds like fun. I'm sorry you hurt yourself though.
As for the rich suddenly acting like their pockets are nothing more than places for dust bunnies to collect, hubby has to deal with that on a daily basis because of the town he works out of.
These people come in wearing a couple thousand dollars worth of jewelry, buy nothing but the most expensive clothes and drive the newest vehicles, but yet when they address a letter wrong and it comes back, the complain that they shouldn't have to pay postage again on a new envelope with the proper address. Some of them are really tacky and will say things like "Don't you know who I am?" Hubby looks them square in the eye and says "No, as a matter of fact I don't and no, I will not get your mail because you forgot your mailbox key."
They are really childish when I think about it, but his stories are good for a laugh even if he doesn't find them amusing.
Stacy
I have a punching bag that I use a baseball bat (metal) on. I use it to get the physical component of my anger out, because there is so much energy that we bottle up inside with anger.
As for the elitists, my mother has like, tens of millions of dollars, right? And she has two acres of landscaped yard and a really nice pool with a spa.
1. She has never used the spa in her life.
2. She mows the yard, and has let the landscaping and all teh flowers go to hell (it was landscaped beautifully by the previous owner).
3. She does the pool herself. Poorly.
My God, what's the world coming to when Mumsy's little snots have to mow their own lawns. After a little brush up work on the 'ole heavy bag, you should just go back to that store and kick their asses Kyra. - And BTW! What is it with all you girls getting/staying in "fighting" shape? Half the female bloggers I know are into workin' the heavy bag or testing for their brown belt. Should us guys be worried? Is there a giant conspiracy to wipe out the male population, or just to force our complete submission? If it has to be one, I hope it's the latter and that it's carried out in a dominatrix sort of way. ; )
Oh, and give my regards to Madam President Clinton.
Stacey - I like my hanging one, but like I said, it's as hard as cement. There has to be a little give to give you that feeling of kicking the stuffing out of it in my personal opinion. :) I haven't seen anyone fighting over a stamp like that before though. That is funny.
Absurdist - uh, I wasn't taking it as far as a bat. ;) but I get you. I run when it's that bad. For miles and miles, until I can't breath, or I'm not frustrated anymore.
John - Clinton? Er... on the news a moose was in someone's backyard... but nothing about Clinton. As for us scary females, well much as I'd like to have a black belt in anything, I don't because I get hives over the tests that would have to happen in front of people. But as for practicing things like punches, kicks, and swordplay... well, it's just fun, makes you feel good... and powerful in its own right. :) bouncing around like a cotton candy version of the energizer bunny is just... ew.
Oh my, hard times for those guys! And aren't overheard conversations of this half-wit degree the best:)
I want a punching bag too! But I've just never got around to getting one. Yet.
Now I'm having fantasies of you and Black Belt Mama working out together on the bag.
I pay something $30 to mow the lawn. I just don't want to be bothered in the heat.
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