Walk softly or I'll hit you with my stick

I am in a really foul mood. I am not sure why.

While discussing something with my spouse today, I said:

Me: "I just don't want to be annoyed."

Him: "I don't think that is possible.....you have really been grouchy lately. Everything annoys you, including me."

Me:(Giving him the Death Stare) "I know."

Unfortunately, he is right........I admit it, I get on a tear, and I take it out on the people that don't deserve it because I can't take it out on the ones that do.

I don't even know why I am angry, I just am. (Well...not exactly true, I have some ideas...) I don't like it. It is hard to be pleasant when you feel like sluggin' everyone you talk to.

"Good morning! How are you?"

POW! Right in the kisser..... "Does THAT answer your stupid question?" How bad am I??

OK, I need to do some introspection and get this out of my system, but that is just annoying too. I don't care about touchy feely things when I am angry...Anger drives away the spirit, it drives away all good feelings; and I seem to wallow in it when it happens. Not a good thing, really....

Lots of times, I am not really angry, I am sad or upset or hurt, and these emotions manifest themselves as anger.......blah, blah, blah......who cares? I'm still mad and now I am annoying myself.

See what I mean? How does one extract themselves from a bad attitude? Don't bother giving me any advice, I don't want it. Don't say anything nice to me, I don't want to feel better. Leave me alone, I'll get over it eventually....... Remember Lon Chaney Jr. playing the werewolf? You know how he wanted to be locked up so he wouldn't hurt anyone? Yeah, that's how I need to be treated when I feel like this. The difference between him and me, however, is that I am not horrified at my transformation into a miserable creature; I would probably get pleasure out of biting your head off, BUT I have been conditioned in socially acceptable behavior. I will look at you and answer your questions civilly. I will not snarl or tell you that you are ignorant, nor will I engage in sarcastic response. (Sarcastic THOUGHT maybe, but not sarcastic response.) No need to make everyone around me feel as miserable as I do.....might want to but don't need to.

OK, positive thoughts, positive thoughts, positive thoughts........Not working, not working, not working.....I'm just gonna let the werewolf out tonight.....I'll lock myself in.

It feels good on my tongue...

Lugubrious.........that is my word for today. It is one of my favorite words.......It feels good when I speak it....I like the way it sounds...it seems lazy and rolling as it comes off my tongue......

It's an adjective.......What does it mean? It means mournful...not JUST mournful, but mournful in an exaggerated way....forlorn, dismal, an affected loss.......

"Her inner pain showed through in the lugubrious expression on her face; it was pronounced by the slump of her shoulders, the agony in her eyes, and the tremor in her voice. There was no getting past the bittersweet memory of her lost love."

OOOOOO....maybe I should write a book around those sentences...Nah......love stories are boring.....too dramatic.....I would probably write the book in 2 sentences, the one above and this one:

"Her lifelong friend came to her side gently placing her hand upon her shoulder. Swiftly reaching up, she slapped her on the back of her head and said: 'Get OVER yourself would you! Geez...'"

THAT'S reality......

Do you know where my _____is/are?

Fill in the blank...........

• keys
• badge
• laptop
• stethoscope
• shoes
• GPS
• purse
• camera
• phone
• pager
• glasses (not usually; I really need them to see, so they are usually close by)

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, do not lecture me on how I should put things in the same place so that I know where they are when I need them. I know all about that, and I have done it. In fact, I put my badge by the door when I come home so I know where it is when I leave for work again.......at least when I REMEMBER to do that. I just have a lot of things roaming around in my head and when I put something down, it just doesn't register......I have to register it to remember......

The worst part is that I get soooo angry when I can't find something that it makes my head hurt. I have been known to throw things and yell......My husband used to say to the kids "Run!! Mom is on the warpath, she can't find something!" They said I did it when I cleaned the house too....I don't remember that....I choose not to remember that.......It's enough that I doubted my motherly instincts as it was, and that I have often felt that I fell short when raising my children....I don't want to add screaming for no good reason to my list of things about which to feel guilty....

I have gotten better, about the anger, not about losing things. Whenever I would get so mad that pets quivered in the corner and children hid under their beds and then I found the offending object, I would immediately feel terrible about being so angry. Then I would have to repent for being out of control, apologize to everybody, and take back the accusations that everyone was trying to make me go crazy by moving my stuff.......Now I realize that it was my dear sweet husband who has been trying to drive me crazy all of these years......It HAS to be him, he's the only one left in the house......I can say that because he never reads this blog. He doesn't read the blog because he is:

• not interested


• doesn't know what a blog is


• doesn't know where a blog might be


• not sure why we have a computer in the first place except to play Free Cell

So I can pretty much blame him and be safe.....unless one of the kids tells him, which I am sure they probably will, but I will deny it, and he will just shrug his shoulders and he STILL won't read the blog....Not that I really want him to read it......Here is the probable conversation if he did:

Me: "Well, what did you think?"

Him: "About what?

Me: "What do you mean about what? The blog, that's what!"

Him: "It was OK."

Me: "Just OK?"

Him: "Yeah, OK"

Me: "That's all you have to say?"

Him: "What do you want me to say?"

Me: "Well, I expected a little more than just OK."

Him: "OK, it was great."

Me: "Don't patronize me."

Him: "I don't know what to say, it was OK, it was great."

Me: "Thank you for your detailed review."

I have more of a critique for him when he gets his hair cut.

But back to losing things....I won't say that things actually get LOST, although I AM on my third GPS.....I have the holder for the last one, but the GPS itself is just gone. I really think it got lifted from my car when I was on call one night, but I probably should have locked the car before I ran off, and it's my own fault. Anytime something gets stolen, I think maybe the person that stole it may need it more than me...helps with the acceptance.

My car keys are the worst. I have to remember where they are EVERY SINGLE MORNING when I am getting ready to leave for work, but I aways find them, so lost wouldn't be the operative word, just mislaid, I guess.

I know that if I spent any time sitting in the car after I got home that they are probably in the ignition the next morning. That's almost 100% right; if I made a call, sent a text, tried to get myself together before going in, or just wanted to sit alone, I can almost guarantee that I will leave the keys in the ignition. One of these mornings my car will be gone (Please, Please, I need a new one!)

No one will look on my desk, or my dresser, or in my room in general.....for anything....I have to do that myself. No one wants to touch any of these sacred places or move paperwork because I will inevitably accuse someone of taking something.

I then start spouting the words of my mother (dreadful!)

Me: "Well, they just can't sprout legs and walk away!!!!"

OR, when I used to enlist help from children.

Them: "Mom! we can't find it!!"

Me: "Look with your eyes and not with your mouth!"

Of course, I always get the same question "Where did you have it last?" I just want to give them my laser of death look, because if I remembered what I did 30 seconds ago, I would be way ahead of myself on a daily basis.

I have lost interest in my iPhone, so now I will probably not know where it is most of the time and it will probably be dead more than charged. The worst part is that there was a time when I knew where EVERYTHING was in my house. I was able to keep it clean and orderly.

"Where's the black ladle?" "In the third drawer down on the right hand side beside the long wooden spoon." "Where is the furniture spray?" "In the cupboard above the washer on the second shelf next to the scrubbing bubbles." I haven't done a thorough house cleaning in so long that now I get asked "Where exactly is the living room?" "I don't know, It used to be on the right when you walked in the front door." It's DISTURBING...Everywhere around me I see evidence of my failure in something.

Now when I can't find something, I just sigh and go without it. (For the most part...I DO on occasion still yell and throw things...I am a passionate woman, what can I say?) If I lose my keys, I use the spare one, if I lose the GPS, I use my iPhone, If I lose the iPhone, I pull out the map, If I lose my badge, I get a new one, without FAIL, anything I replace turns up somewhere, eventually. (Except the GPS...the most expensive thing, of course).

Before I bought my iPhone, I had a Blackberry...I could not find the in-house charger ANYWHERE....I looked and looked and looked......I also could not find my car charger for the last lost GPS so I bought new ones.........TWO months after buying the iPhone, and having given up on the charger for the Blackberry, I found, plugged into a wall in my family room, IN PLAIN SIGHT, was my in-house charger for the Blackberry. You cannot convince me that someone was NOT messing with my head......and I have about 6 car and in-house chargers laying around for things I now cannot find.....I'm not even sure if I owned anything that could take a charge from them. (That is the subject of another blog....WHY does everything use a different type of charger?)

That whole list at the top?? I have lost them and found them at least 50 times a piece, but I still think someone is trying to gaslight me.....

Did I REALLY Do That?

Have you ever just made an interaction so uncomfortable that you wish the earth would fall away beneath your feet? You know, made it look like you were an idiot, a stalker, a Jerry Springer guest?

Me: "Hello! Quasimodo is the name? Oh! I see something on your back; can I straighten that out for you? Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was a hump...I mean, it looks fine, I hardly noticed...I had an aunt with a hump once....I LOVE that aunt....I LOVE your hump....I love YOU! Will you marry me?"

I mean, how do you get from hello to total meltdown in 30 seconds? How do you get from relatively intelligent to bumbling idiot in microseconds? The worst part is the person to which you have shown your ignorance walks away with a GREAT first impression.

Quasimodo: "Victor, I know we are friends, but could you please make sure I don't EVER see that person again, she is scary....and I KNOW scary!"

Now, add that to the fact that every time you see or talk to this person again, you become that same idiot over and over again so that now you are growing.....ad infinitum.......that first impression to a body of knowledge that makes you look like a total ass.....

And how do you fix it???? What I really want to say is, "You know, that isn't me....... really, I don't usually say things like that.....honestly,......I just got caught up in the moment.....ANYTHING to erase what happened and start all over again at hello.....hoping that I don't blow it all over again.....Maybe if I just say "Can we start all over again at hello?" that will work?

Life is interesting. These moments keep you humble....or humiliated.....take your pick.

What A Way To End The Day

Last night....

Kevin: "Mom-Mom?"

Me: "Yes, my baby?"

Kevin: "Can I lay with you?"

Me: "Of course! Come here."

Kevin: "Mom-Mom?"

Me: "Yes?"

Kevin: "You're beautiful."

May have to reconisder giving him that second Milky Way bar............

Bonding Moments.....

Alright......I am watching two of my grandsons for the next 3 days. No problem, right? Mom-mom and Pop-pop's house is a great place to stay! I do have toys and stuff, and a Wii...they love the Wii.... I raised 4 kids, I can do this....

Nathan is 5 and Kevin will be 4 on August 30th ....my little tow-headed babes, they are my joy.....let's hope it stays that way.

Not that I anticipate any difficult times, it's just that when my youngest child was a little girl, at the first sign of screaming over something, I would open my mouth and the older 3 would say "I know, give her what she wants." It was just easier, ya know? She turned out alright.....

So Mommy and Daddy are pulling out of the driveway and Kevin is crying.......Awww..... is he missing them already??

"What's the matter, buddy?'

"I want to watch the movie from the beginning." Nathan was watching Spiderman 3....

"I think we can do that." Give him what he wants..........So far so good.....

Failure to Fitness

OK, OK, OK, I really want to do this. I want to get healthy, I want to be fit....and I have come a long way, but NOW I have to put forth effort that is, quite frankly, making me wonder WHY I want those things.......I mean, I feel great, I get sick very seldom, I'm eating better (well, I have good days and bad)...and I can still walk around without assistance. I have good genes! Grandparents living into their mid to late 80's and parents in their 80s now! I can cover up most of the body flaws with the right types of clothes, and I will never be asked to grace the front of a fashion magazine.......So WHY do the words "Toning, Strengthening, and Cardio" fall off my tongue to the fitness trainer like butter off a hot knife?

I went for my fitness evaluation. Cardio, flexibility, strength, weight, BMI, the whole thing. He (that would be the trainer, we'll call him EB for privacy sake, E standing for 'evil') didn't give me a score, but, he said there was no pass or fail........How can NOT being able to do ONE push up NOT be failure??? I was, however, able to do quite a few crunches....(that was the sound of my body, not the actual sit-up thing.) They told me to come back a week later for my program......Why so long? Do they sit around a conference table and decide how they will inflict pain in the most efficient way? So I came back this past Friday. Really, don't you think I would have known better than to go for something like that on a day OTHER than Friday the 13th.......?

So I walk into the fitness center, which, let me just digress here a bit, is subsidized by my employer...we are encouraged to utilize it and make our lives healthier...the food they serve in the cafeteria has all gone "light" and for a while there was no chocolate in the vending machines......that had to have been a man's idea.....I think that practice ended when women looking for chocolate began roaming in packs.......

To EB I say: "You're not going to hurt me are you?" Now, I meant that as a joke, you know, just kidding around, icebreaker thing.............but, he HESITATED...oh, it was only a fraction of a second, but it was there. Then he said, "Well, you may be a little sore tomorrow." I should have bolted for the door that moment. Instead, I fought back tears as I changed into my new workout clothes. New clothes that just may have been a little more spandexy than I anticipated; however it does kind of hold everything in place. All I can say is, if you can't handle the spandex, get out of the fitness center....

So with a smile (did I detect a hint of cruel pleasure in his eyes?) EB asked me what my goals were. I wanted to say, "I would like to wake up tomorrow morning looking like Beyonce." but I thought that may sound a little crazy coming from a 56 year old white woman..... AND I wasn't sure if he would get it.....I mean after all, he HESITATED on that last attempt at humor. So, I kept it straight and told him that I would like to tone, strengthen, and improve my cardio function.

Next question: "Would you like an ENTIRE body workout? (Now I know there was some kind of devil's gleam in his eye!) Me: "Yes, I would like that!" Positive AND enthusiastic, I don't know, I think there was some kind of mojo going on here that comes on when there is the smell of spandex in the air, or maybe mine was so tight, the circulation to my brain had slowed.

So you know what, you have to warm up, and you warm up on your choice of cardio equipment. I made the mistake of letting EB choose my equipment. Would it be a treadmill or a bike? Oooooohhhhhh nnnnnoooo HE thinks I should do some time on an elliptical machine; was he concerned for low impact, or just plain evil? Did I not go through these same motions in the spinning class? The difference here is that I can monitor my heart rate on the equipment. EB tells me that if my heart rate gets over 165, to slow it down, and to come get him after I am warmed up. Well, 4 minutes in, my heart rate is 170 and my legs feel like jelly....... 4 minutes, folks, 4 minutes.....and I was going for 5. Isn't that just pitiful?? My regular warm up should be 20 minutes before doing the strength training.....Nothing like feeling defeated before I even begin.

The worst part, though, is I see EB sitting behind the desk 50 feet away. How am I going to walk over there?? How am I going to do anything else?? Do I fake a heart attack?? Would that be less embarrassing than crawling from the elliptical to the desk?? Seriously, my legs were buckling...it took everything I had to not fall when I was stepping off the stupid thing....... So, sucking it up, I put one foot in front of the other and begin the walk......with every other step I faltered, reaching down to grab the nearest piece of equipment hoping people wouldn't notice the old lady....in spandex....walking like a drunk......

Oh, but the best was yet to come. EB now would attach me to one piece of equipment after another starting with the press.......did he NOT know that my legs and thighs were pleading for mercy? The press.......at 60 pounds. Just to get ON the thing I had to bend my legs to my chest until I could rest my chin on my knees; how is that ever a graceful move?? "You should do 20 reps." After about 12, he reached over and pushed down on the weights with all his might as I pressed forward with my legs. "Why are you doing that?" I ask. "Well, you are stronger than I thought you were, we need to up the weight." I wondered very quickly if he would buy the fact that it was an accident if my foot came flying off that press and straight into his teeth.

And so it was, lower body, upper body, lower body, upper body, each piece of equipment born and conceived (in the minds of evil people) for working a different set of muscles. Muscles that have done nothing over the years but support and be cushioned by the various growing areas of fat that surround them.

Every new piece of equipment tormented me until I said, "I can't do any more!" This seemed to bring much pleasure to EB, for without fail, he would always come back with "You can do one more." after I would do one more he would say, "You can do one more." Never satisfied until I really could not do one more.

That is the secret, you see...I see all of you out there that know what I mean, nodding your head and getting that grin on your face. Muscle failure.....The conventional wisdom on strength training. You must work that muscle group to failure to attain success. Irony at its best, I would say. In other words, repeat that movement on that equipment until your body says, "UNCLE!" and will no longer respond to the will of the mind. How fun is that? So, I need to go from piece to piece working each muscle group until it is flaccid so that when I get up it looks like I need a wheelchair? My legs were still giving me intermittent moments of not knowing if they would support me or not.

By the way, where did that expression come from? "Uncle" Why do we cry "Uncle"? Sounds kind of creepy....I can think of a couple of creepy uncles I had.....

So, as I leave the Chamber of Horrors, EB says to me "Don't curse me out tomorrow." I am still trying to walk upright as I leave and am wondering when all those endorphins everyone always rhapsodizes over might be kicking in, and I think to myself, "Tomorrow? I want to call you every name in the book right now!" I fear tomorrow.....

I am convinced that Rodin was not inspired by Dante's "The Inferno" to create "The Gates of Hell", but, rather, saw a vision of the future and those subjected to personal trainers......

I was told that it takes 24 to 48 hours for muscles to recover, so I shouldn't do strength training but every other day. Well, it's been 3 days and my armpits still hurt. Who knew your armpits could hurt? My left thigh is still so sore that I am convinced that I ripped something. And I am supposed to do it all over again so I will be sore for ANOTHER 24-48 hours? That means I will be sore 4 days out of 7. Don't even try to convince me that it will get better, I don't believe it.

Now I remember why every piece of fitness equipment I have ever enthusiastically purchased at 3 in the morning on those infomercials ends up as another place to hang my spandex......

Spinnin' wheel got to go round....

Remember that Blood, Sweat, and Tears song "Spinnin' Wheel"???

What goes up must come down

Spinnin' wheel got to go 'round

Talkin' 'bout your troubles it's a cryin' sin

Ride a painted pony let the spinnin' wheel spin...

Well, I gotta say, the name of the group is apropos if associated with a spinning class. Course, when Blood, Sweat, and Tears was around, (this song came out in 1969, I think) there wasn't anything like spinning classes. Fitness was not "in" in those days (Jack LaLanne was WAY ahead of his time).....It would have been looked at as ridiculous to sit in a room and ride a top heavy one wheeled stationary bike until you wanted to throw up, while having an instructor urge you on to feel the pain and sweat like a pig. Back then, it was more like, light up a cigarette, fix a rum and Coke, and do a little Bugaloo (twist, jerk, whatever) (Holy Cow, I'm old).

I mean doesn't "spinning" sound like FUN? Didn't we all do that when we were kids? WEEEEEEEEEE, WE'RE SPINNING!! (Then throwing up sometimes) And wasn't riding a bike FUN??? Yeah! Let's see how fast I can go....then stick my head up in the air and feel the wind blow through my hair while I glide down the hills of my neighborhood........Please do not extrapolate those images and feelings out to what a spinning class may be............

Anyway, I bravely went to the class, not knowing exactly how it would play out.

I had heard of spinning and knew that it was a stationary bike on which the resistance can be adjusted so one may get the benefit of riding up and down hills and help power the cardio system in a nice workout.

The female instructor was fit....... muscular and tan, sculpted, toned, and enthusiastic....................Oh crap..................A happy sadist that wants me to be my best and to push myself hard so that I may have the benefit of health. What the heck had I been thinking???

So there sat the bikes, and all of these people that come every week..........Seriously, I was about 20 years older than the rest of them, surely I have an excuse to turn around and walk away?? There were 3 newbies, the other two were still younger than me, but in better shape. One I knew as a colleague and she was happy to see me there, but this lovely lady weighs.......... no exaggeration........probably 90 pounds soaking wet. She is a tiny little thing and perfectly proportioned, I need a big girl in there with me.......

Now let me just say that I have lost 90 pounds, so I have been feeling pretty good about myself, but again, as I got on that bike I was feeling fat, fat, fat...And the work-out clothes I was wearing? It was stuff I had before I lost the 90 pounds, so not only do I feel fat, I looked like I had been dumpster diving at Omar the tent-maker fashion house......

So we start...hip hop music blaring, instructor with her mic on telling us we were going to work it today, listen to our bodies, and push it hard...........I am in BIG trouble.

Did I say the class is 45 minutes long..............45 minutes of non-stop spinning..........the RPMs lighting up on the display before us so that we may see how hard we are working it? I don't think I have spent 45 minutes doing ANYTHING continuous in my ENTIRE life. I just don't have that kind of focus. For Pete's sake, I can't even watch an hour on television without having to get up and do something........what is going to happen here???

So, with my feet safely stationed in the pedals of the bike I begin to spin.........or at least I THINK I begin to spin.....the pedals won't move..............this will never do........wait, wait, forgot there was a lever to adjust the resistance.......I am assuming that the "minus" sign means less resistance, so down we go...... OK, now I can pedal, or spin , or whatever it is.

Rather than give a play by play of what happens next, just think of it as keeping the RPMs of the bike wheel between 80 and 110 at various degrees of resistance. We started out on a "flat" road (close your eyes and think you are outside enjoying the weather) to going up a 45 degree hill, to gliding downhill at an amazing pace......(when I went down hill riding bikes, I let gravity do it, not the pedals...)

The instructor telling us all the way when to:

"Notch it up a bit"

when to go down hill.......

when to go up hill............

when to stand up and pedal............

when to sit down and pedal..........

notch it up.........You should be at 90!!

notch it up.... Make it 100!!

notch it up..... 110!! Now come on it's DOWNHILL

WORK IT PEOPLE!!...... Its GOOD for you!

Does it SUCK to be you right now??? GOOD....... its GOOD for you!!

...............I think I got to 80 once..............without movin that knob one bit...............

The instructor wanted us to listen to our bodies......and I did......

The problem was that after about 5 minutes, my legs were saying:

"OK, that's enough....good job today girl, now relax and have a cookie."

After 20 minutes my legs were saying:

"You really need to stop, this is not pleasant and we are going to rebel shortly!"

After 30 minutes, the brain chimed in:

"Hey, what the heck? You trying to prove something here? The legs are done for crying out loud and do you see those spots in front of your eyes? That could be broken blood vessels for all I know, you don't want me to stroke out do you??"

But I prevailed................for 45 minutes I kept that wheel spinning..............Not at 110 not at 90, but I kept it spinning....

I never stood up and pedaled.........I tried once, but I couldn't make it happen......my body just laughed and laughed.....

Can I tell you what the worst thing was of the whole ordeal??? Not the pain, not the sweat, not the face that was flushed red from exertion, not the spots before my eyes, or the fear that my legs feeling like pieces of old rubber bands would give way when I finally took myself off that piece of torture equipment......it was the stinkin' seat on the bicycle...............

Why do they have to have those seats that split the permanent vertical smile like a sword?? And why do they have to have a mirror the full length of one wall so that if you turn and look you see that you hang on that seat like Baby Huey? You think my legs were talking to me??? You should have heard what my butt was screamin in my ear........

Not Memorable, Mom

My daughters did not like my last 2 blogs......."Not memorable, Mom." was my oldest's comment. I was taking them out to dinner, and when I asked them if they had read them, they just looked at each other and made faces........Stacie, (the oldest), said "Well there was something in there where you went off on a tangent that was somewhat OK." When I asked which part, she said "I don't know." and then made the comment above.

I then proceeded to spend money on them at dinner AND after dinner when Stacie felt the need to "look" at new makeup..........If nothing else, I can count on their honesty......Their biggest complaint was that I was in error when I said that I was the only one in the family that liked cucumbers. OK, I stand corrected........No one reads this darn thing anyway.......