Obligatory Fun
July 16, 2009 at 6:03 am | In my neurosis, operation happy | 18 CommentsConfession: I only went to two weeks of the five week dance class.
I knew going into it that I would be challenged. That my overwhelming need to lead allthefuckingtime would take a beating. That I would have to try and try again to let go of control. And I did. I swear to the baby Jesus I did! But a few things stood in my way of me thoroughly enjoying the class.
1) The teachers sped through the steps without giving us enough practice time to really get the moves ingrained in our bodies. While they were both perfectly nice and friendly and knowledgeable, the quick pace and the cramming-too-much-info into a one hour session just did not work for me. Right when my brain would start to get the steps, they’d throw in a more complicated move. Plus, they had us change partners A LOT which isn’t altogether a bad thing except that you’d just be getting the grove with one guy and WHAM! you’d have another.
2) Work overwhelmed me. I honestly had every intention of pushing through to the very end despite my misgivings but then a work deadline made attending class last week impossible. After that miss, my brain started to talk myself out of attending further. I already felt behind because I was struggling to be a “follower”. (I make a very bad rag doll apparently. Massage therapists have told me this when they gently tell me to “relax” and I am like BUT THIS IS ME RELAXED!) I’ve been so busy that the thought of just going home one night without a mountain of things to do was/is very appealing.
3) This type of dance maybe isn’t for me. While I enjoy watching Lindy Hop dancers, the moves require a lot of knee bending. It’s old news but I have really, really bad knees. I could get through the class but the next day they’d be hurting. I really love swing dancing but maybe I should stick with East or West Coast?
Now the positives:
1) I signed up for class- GO ME!
2) I danced with all sorts of strangers and hardly felt self-conscious.
3) I decided not to pursue something just because I was supposed to or because I spent money. What’s the point of “Operation Happy” if I am not happy? Um, yeah. THAT DEFEATS THE PURPOSE.
4) I have not given up on dancing. In fact, I want to take another dance class.
I do feel a little guilty. I’ll admit it. It’s hard for me to not complete things even when I know they are not making me happy. (Hi Catholicism! Hi child of an alcoholic! Hi people pleaser!) I’m trying to look at this as not a strike against me but an opportunity to fit something new into my schedule that really DOES make me feel happy.
What Counts
July 15, 2009 at 5:40 am | In bloggers rule!, my neurosis | 37 CommentsYou may have noticed that I’m slipping.
It’s probably no coincidence that my blogging mojo always seems to slack off around summer and BlogHer time. But it does. It IS. I’ve been so damn busy that when I get home the last thing I want to do is be on my computer. I’m so behind on blog reading that I have been marking all as read sometimes even though it pains me to skim or skip. Sometimes we just have to prioritize our off-line life. You’ve been there, right?
Do you think that the blogisphere has “summer hours” when June hits and that bloggers post less during summer?
Do you ever notice the correlation of being too busy to comment on other blogs and a drastic decline in your comments?
I remember a time when I was getting upwards of 75+ comments on a single post. I had NO IDEA why or where readers/commenters came from. Sincerely. I was floored. Flattered, floored. . . and confused. What did I do to “deserve” all this traffic? Did I strike some magical balance that created the perfect storm of comments/traffic/blogging mojo? To this day I still don’t know but I realized that like a lot of things in life, there is an ebb and a flow to blogging. Back when the comment section was bursting, I had a few loyal readers from my blogging beginnings mention to me that they didn’t feel the need to comment anymore because I got so many other comments. That stopped me in my tracks because THEY were my people, the ones who had been there through all of it regardless of if I was “popular” or not.
It was a double-edged sword really because on the one hand my ego loved the expanding number in my comment section and the rise in my stats. And I was honestly struggling to keep up with responding to the volume of comments. On the other hand, the people who were my tried & trues were feeling on the outskirts of my blog which was the last thing I wanted to happen. I’ve always strived to create a community on my blog. That’s why I try to reply to every comment (when my life is not overwhelming me). That’s why I try to read the blogs of those who read me (I am unsuccessful at this most of the time due to time limitations- can we have 48 hour days?!).
I have absolutely no idea where all this is coming from except that I’m thinking about why I blog. I blog to connect with other people. I blog to share my life and find commonalities with other people. I blog to go deeper in my authentic experience. I blog to release. And somewhere along the line, I started to blog to be more ME.
The bottom line isn’t what Stat Counter says or what number the comment box reads, it’s that I am expressing myself and being true to me.
So, what’s your bottom line?
My Exception
July 14, 2009 at 6:09 am | In family | 32 CommentsThere is one person in my life who is the exception to every rule I might hold and that person is my sister.
Today, Dokey turns 34.
She is the first person I’ve watched grow up. From a shy, blanket-yielding, fluff-eating little girl to a strong, wise, loving woman.
She’s my touchstone, my memory, my childhood. Who else can I call that can pull an old inside joke from the depths of our history to make me crumble in a fit of laughter? Who else can look at me and know, without words, my own heart?
She is the first person I want to call when things are breaking apart or falling into place. She helps me put the pieces together.
She tries. This is no small feat. I don’t think enough stock is put into the act of trying. This past year has been one of her hardest and yet, she’s trying. . . Trying to be her best self. Trying to let go of what isn’t working. Trying to forgive and heal and move forward.
She has the best laugh. Ever.
She is an amazing mother. I am floored by her parenting skills and the little boy made of sunshine and giggles and boundless energy she is raising.
She is bursting with creative abundance with an eye for beauty and capturing priceless moments on film. Her uncanny ability to make ordinary things extraordinary always makes me pause in wonderment.
She loves, vast and deep like the ocean.
She is my sister and my best friend. And I couldn’t be luckier.
Happy Birthday, Doke. May this be your best year yet.
I love you.
WTF Friday
July 10, 2009 at 5:42 am | In wtf friday | 36 CommentsI came upon this story the other day that just begs to be shared:
Tatiata Kozhevnikova has earned the record for the world’s strongest vagina. She lifted 31 pounds using just her vagina.*
“You insert one of the balls in your vagina, and it has a string attached to it with a little hook at the very end. You fix a second ball onto this hook.”
“It’s enough to exercise your vagina five minutes a day, ladies, and in just one week you’ll be able to give yourself and your man unforgettable pleasure in bed,” she says.
Now here’s what comes to mind: 1) Where are the photos? I feel like this article could benefit from photographic evidence and 2) Does she mean do kegels for five minutes a day? And then after a week (35 minutes total) I can pick up 31lbs with my vagina?? Because {squeeze} I am going to {squeeze} get {squeeze} right {squeeze} on {squeeze} it.
{Squeeze}
I suppose I should add this to my work out regime now?
***This just in! Video footage of the woman! Thanks to Tori Blane for the link. (Or should I say “blame” Tori for the link?) I am not sure what is worse- the mere fact that there is video of this or her unfortunate gold ensemble.***
****
My coworker sent me this link the other day and I’m still baffled by it.
“Supports like a dream” they claim. The Kush was designed so that women everywhere could avoid unsightly wrinkles in their cleavage.
REALLY.
I had no idea this was an even an issue facing women today.
Let me be frank: I could never sleep with something lodged between my breasts. Not only would it be uncomfortable given the fact that I move around so much in my sleep but also the very fact that I would be that concerned about wrinkles in my cleavage gives me pause. They are boobs! They are supposed to lose elasticity with time given all they are required to do over a lifetime (feed babies, pleasure people, provide eye candy for the masses).
Plus, doesn’t that thing look like a dildo for your tits?
Sidenote: When I googled images for “kush” I discovered that word is also a term for marijuana. You learn something new every day. Or three somethings for the price of one!
I only share these things with you because they are too good to keep to myself. Sharing is caring.
*Borrowed from Slog
Leave the DSi at Home
July 9, 2009 at 5:49 am | In insert foot in mouth, spazzing | 30 CommentsPicture it: Seattle, Undisclosed Non-profit Office, 2009
Me: I can’t get on line on my DSi.
Her: Oh I can show you. Go to settings.
Me: Okay. (clicking)
{Photo comes up on the screen.}
Her: Um. . .why are you naked in that photo?
Me: Uh. . . (flounder, flounder). . . I have a sheet over me. I am not naked! Okay… so I am naked UNDER the sheet but whatever.
Her: . . .
Me: I THOUGHT I DELETED IT! I was playing with the camera options before bed. (Internal dialogue: Now you know I sleep naked. Oh gawd please let’s change the subject. Am I blushing? How can I get out of this?!)
Me: Delete! There, it’s gone. Let’s pretend that never happened.
Her: I’ll try but I don’t think I can.
I never did get on line.
Don’t Make Me Come Over There
July 8, 2009 at 7:09 am | In everyday frustrations, my neurosis | 37 CommentsI am feeling very stabby.*
For a variety of reasons I feel overcome with irritation and annoyance at the drop of a hat. And no, it’s not that time of the month but so kind of you to inquire into my personal ovulation cycle.
Exhibit A: I had just climbed into the shower this morning when my towel fell off the shower rod and onto the floor. Irritated, I hastily pulled back the shower curtain to pick it up and toss it back over the rod and in doing so the rod and curtain and liner all fell to the ground.
As I stood there, half-wet, the water spraying off my body and out into the bathroom.
I attempted to re-hook the curtain to the rod and get it stuck between the walls but the tension of the tension rod was not cooperating. I am only 5′ 2″ so hoisting the curtain rod to an accurate level while dripping wet in a slippery shower is no small feat. (No pun intended.) It took me three tries and a lot of swearing but I got it to stick. Finally.
Half-way into washing my hair, the damn curtain kept billowing out and sticking to my body. I would yell at it to “stop it!” and viciously brush it away but, as you can imagine, it did not comply. Inanimate objects can be such assholes.
I raced through the rest of my shower, washing with one hand and batting away the curtain with the other. Post-shower, the curtain is currently crumpled in the tub; the rod gruffly discarded in the corner. They are both in a time out. I can’t deal with them right now or else my head will implode.
This is just one example of how my mood is totally fucked lately. Simple annoyances are ballooning up into epic combustible fits inside me. This is what happens, boys and girls, when Sizzle is over-worked, over-tired and has drank wine the past three nights.
The cure?
1) Avoid everyone. (At least until I don’t feel like stabbing anymore.)
2) No more booze. (At least until BlogHer.)
3) Go to bed at 10pm every night. (This does not mean getting into bed and then playing my DSi for an hour or more.)
4) Say no to requests that don’t fit in an already packed schedule. (Sometimes there isn’t enough time to do the things you want to do when you find them. Jim Croce taught us that.)
5) Prioritize health. (No skipping workouts to do work. Workouts provide balance, endorphins and stress release. Accept no subsititutes.)
*Stabby is a term I borrow without permission from Kaply.
Open Letters
July 7, 2009 at 7:12 am | In letters | 25 CommentsDear Trader Joe’s Security Guard,
I sincerely appreciated you pointing out that my vehicle tags were two months expired. I honestly had no idea! I never received a notice and, besides, who actually looks at their license plates? Not me, that’s for sure. I looked it up immediately on line when I got home but then realized I had to get an emissions test which would require time. Time is not something I’ve had much of in the past week. Not that you would know this or care about my excuses as to why, when I returned to Trader Joes a few days later, my tags still said May.
Here’s some feedback: There is a line between helpfulness and badgering and you crossed it. When you came over to my car appearing to be “helping” me by retrieving my cart when really you want to give me a lecture on how if you were “on duty” I’d be getting a ticket and how you already told me and how come I haven’t done it and blahblahyaddablah- THAT IS BADGERING. I’m not sorry I was short with you because really? REALLY?! You have so much fucking free time you have to hassle me about my license tags? When people are being shot a few blocks away in drive by shootings? When cars are being broken into, women attacked on residential tree-lined streets and kids are homeless. REALLY!? So when I curtly replied “I’m on it” what I really meant was FUCK OFF.
Signed: Formerly Appreciative
P.S. I get it. You’re a cop. And guess what? I DO NOT CARE.
*******
Dear Regence Blue Shield,
Your coverage is impossible to understand. Why are you sending me a check written to me AND my acupuncturist? I mean, he’s cute in a hippy way but we’re not an item. It’s not like that. Who is this check actually for?
Signed: What the fuck?
P.S. Why won’t you cover more than 12 visits of therapy a year? Do you actually think a person can be “healed” in 12 visits?!
*******
Dear Zit,
While I can appreciate the irony, I’m not so stoked on your careful placement right where my third eye is. Is this some kind of sign? Is my chi blocked?!
Signed: Third Eye Blind
********
Dear Splenda,
Why do you make me fart?
Signed: Gassy
P.S. I am leaving you for Stevia.
********
Dear Tenants,
Thank you for not giving notice. For the first time in over over four months the building is full. You have given me my weekends back and my July thanks you.
Signed: Ready for the weekend.
P.S. While you are at it could you please not be noisy, smelly or stupid?
Habit Forming
July 6, 2009 at 6:56 am | In health, living out loud | 45 CommentsI just did 86 wall push ups and 132 sit ups.
It was really hard but I did it. I didn’t give up. I pushed through. The way I work out directly correlates to how I live my life I am realizing. The more committed I am to me, the better the results.
The scale says I still have to lose 3 or 6 lbs to reach my first goal of 20lbs lost by August 9th. Depending on the day I weigh myself, apparently, I am closer or farther away from that first milestone. But fuck it, I’m keeping on. I walk more. I eat less. I avoid sugar like the plague and am better for it. I haven’t had a single potato or nary a nibble of white flour in six weeks. I rarely partake in libations. I am all business- work out, cook at home, pass on empty calories, and drink a ton of a water. And you know what? I feel great.
No. I feel AWESOME.
People are starting to comment on the physical changes which is reaffirming and spurs me forward. But regardless, I feel different IN MY BODY and that? That’s the prize right there. Pants that were dangerously close to being donated because they were hard to button are now loose in the waist and baggy in the ass. I had to buy smaller bras and now they don’t really cut into my back fat because my back fat is slowly disappearing. I walked to a neighborhood park this weekend and I was not nearly as winded as I used to be and it was in the high 80s. I was sweaty, sure, but I wasn’t panting. This is progress, people. I can see a muscle forming in my biceps. I talked about proper work out techniques and playing tennis FOR FUN over dinner the other night.
Who the?! What the?! Shuddup!
All these little victories keep me focused. I am not on a diet. This is not a phase.
This is my journey.
This is my life.
This is the real me emerging.
Diagnosis: Summeritis
July 2, 2009 at 7:14 am | In everyday frustrations, fun & frolicking | 22 CommentsI think I am suffering from Summeritis.
All I want to do is be near the water with a good book, some shade and time. Precious, glorious time. With work deadlines looming, my days are sucked into reports and spreadsheets while on the homefront, I’ve got three tenants vacating and five new tenants moving in. To say I’m busy would be an understatement. Plus, it’s going to be in the 80’s today so I might actually melt while at Zoo Tunes watching Emmylou Harris, Patty Griffin(!), Shawn Colvin and Buddy Miller rock the stage tonight.
I’m grateful I have tomorrow off so that I can get work done from my other jobs. Yes, jobs. It’s BlogHer time and I am in the crunch of scheduling all the volunteers. (I’m the Volunteer Coordinator, dontcha know?) Oh and did I mention I am planning a bachelorette party and a birthday party? (Not a complaint because they are for very special people and, you know me, I love to throw a party.) With my dance and water exercise classes thrown in, I barely have any free time and when I do, it’s spent catching up on mundane tasks like doing the dishes. My schedule has been so packed the last two days that I have not had time for dinner. A cheese stick or a handful of nuts does not a complete meal make. If it had included booze, maybe.
I plan to whip through my to do list tomorrow so that Saturday and Sunday are all about fun in the sun, good company and relaxing. Yes, I said it. RELAXING. I’m going to try. Try to turn off the computer, the tv, my brain and just enjoy.
Hope you have a sparkly 4th. Eat a patriotic cupcake for me, will ya?
Operation Happy: Take Two
July 1, 2009 at 6:20 am | In operation happy | 33 CommentsMeet Etta:
(Named after the woman I bought her from, not the pseudo-masturbating-on-stage-legend.)
Back story: When I was ten my parents bought me an acoustic guitar and payed for lessons. Unfortunately, I had the discipline of a gnat and didn’t practice enough even though I had natural talent (so said my teacher- I’m not just tooting my own horn). I kept that guitar until I moved here three years ago. For those of you who don’t feel like doing math, that’s 23 years that I kept that guitar.
And I never learned more than some Christmas carols and “When the Saints Go Marching In.”
I’ve always wanted to play an instrument and now seems like the perfect time to go after this childhood dream. Once my dance class is up, I’m signing up for lessons. Eventually maybe I will even get good enough to take requests and then we can have some video sing-a-longs. You might have to stick around for a couple years for that though.
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