I hate Christmas and the whole damn holiday season. Here’s why:
They start stocking the store shelves with all the Christmas froufrou at the beginning of September. By the end of November, I am so tired of looking at all the shit that I want to stick toothpicks in my eyeballs and serve them as cocktail onions just to keep from having to look at the crap a minute longer.
I used to wonder how people justify spending so much money to decorate their homes for one stinking holiday, but now I know. They start putting the shit up after Halloween and don’t take it down till the end of January.
They spend a quarter of the damn year celebrating a holiday that is only one day long. Then, of course, there are the real lazy asses who never take their damn lights down. Someone needs to yank those lights down and choke the shit out of them.
Some things are funny for reasons I can’t explain. Suddenly I’ll look at something in a slightly different way and it will seem utterly hilarious. One day, Bahkti, my son, and I were sitting in the bath and I spotted a bottle of dog shampoo.
On the label was a picture of a spaniel, one which did not look as if it wanted to be bathed. It appeared to be mouthing the sound waff, with the implicit meaning “don’t you dare bring that shampoo toward me”. I already had a private joke about spaniels (which I can’t explain here, unfortunately) and suddenly they became the second most miserable thing in the world.
Spaniels have now become a part of my ‘personal mythology’, if you want to think of it that way. Bahkti and I (and even a number of our friends) react to spaniels (‘waffs’ or ‘whaffs’ if you’re in the know) by putting our hands up to the sides of our heads, waggling them like the long, stupid ears of the silly mutts.
It’s a shoe of many talents; the thin black piping and neatly tied bow suggest a prim Edwardian schoolmistress, the damson pink color and cute peep toe signal a high-kicking showgirl, and it’s easy to picture that spiked heel being ground into a fleshy back by a sexy dominatrix. There’s also the bling factor, as embodied in the pale gold, engraved Gucci logo. The bootie goes by the name of “Newton,” though I’m not sure what the scientist would have made of its gravity-defying 4.5″ stiletto.
But I think what I like most about it is the color, a demure rose transformed into wanton flesh thanks to the patent sheen. It’s also available in black and light grey, but why opt for dull neutral when you can have glorious Technicolor? As Nancy Sinatra might have sung: “These booties are made for walking.” They’re actually not made for walking at all—but for strutting, wiggling, shimmying, and prancing, they’ll do just fine.
Will we get hit by Mathew? Baltimore County has no idea what to do when it storms, they’ll probably cancel school – again. Which meant Laura’s daycare would also be closed for the day. Which meant I would have to take yet another day off from work, after missing three days last week to the plague. So this is about surviving Hurricane Matthew and what friends are for.
But I was able to go to work after all! Did I leave the dog in charge of the baby while I was away? Nope! I was able to leave Laura with a dear friend, whose 7-month-old son is the same size as my peanut of a daughter. Laura had a day-long playdate, while I went to work worry-free. And even better? My friend documented the day in photographs for me!
I am so thankful to have so many great friends right near us that I can count on in a pinch. I would do the same for them in a heartbeat if called upon! That’s what friends are for.
We’ve covered some of the main boot camp exercises but it’s time to look at what the next step is. A lot of people quickly get bored of doing the same old same old week in and week out so we’ve taken the liberty to look at some key variations in traditional boot camp exercises. By adding these to your workout without weights you’ll start building muscle faster by shocking the muscles as well as focusing more on one side at a time:
1. Alternating Push Ups
Starting off with the push-up switch up. If you can’t do one-handed push-ups (let’s face it, most of us can’t… yet) then it’s time to try alternative push-ups. You can accomplish this by finding an object between six inches and a foot high that will support your weight and fits under one hand. From here adopt your typical push-up position and simple place more weight on the raised hand thus alleviating pressure from the opposite arm. You can do one side at a time or if you’re feeling energetic try switching side to side by pushing off each hand.
Seriously. I have figured out some serious shit today. In reading the book The Sweet Potato Queens’ Field Guide to Men: Every Man I Love Is Either Married, Gay, or Dead the author talks about “Man Ears”. To quickly sum up – Man Ears is what all men have that make it so that everything we say somehow becomes an invitation for sex.
Example: “Let’s watch a movie” becomes “I want to watch nasty porn with you and have sex with you while watching it” Example: “Would you pass me the newspaper please?” becomes “I will give you a blow job” You get the idea.
So today, I get the following email from my brother Professor (of “Hi I’m Prof, wanna fuck?” famed pickup line – only continuing to prove the “Man Ears” theory): “When are you moving?? I saw Dad yesterday and he said he knew nothing about you moving until last Saturday when he was at Gma’s.”
First, let me start off saying that couponing has helped my family save thousands over the past 3 years. Without couponing I would not know what to do.
However, I think we have gone overboard in recent months. Here is how I know we have gone astray:
Calculate the Monthly Budget/Spending
I usually calculate the budget spending for the month and we have gone over the allotment for the last 5 months. At first, I thought it was just the increase in grocery prices, but as I looked closely at the receipts it was much more.
Overspending on Non-essentials
Looks like we got into the habit of spending on things we didn’t necessarily need. For example, the local Save a Lot was closing and they were having a store sale. Instead of my dad getting a few items he got $90 worth of things we didn’t need.
Once a week I subject myself to the ugliest run possible. I hit the gnarliest trail I know in all its mountainous, muddy, rutty, rocky, ankle breaking glory. And it is awful. I call this my hate run, because quite frankly it is fucking terrible. It doesn’t leave me joyful and optimistic. It doesn’t get easier, even after 6 months of practice, and I haven’t even shaved time off my miles on it. It’s not even fun. While I’m running it I hate every minute.
When I’m finished I feel broken, angry, and frustrated. It makes me want to quit running forever. People always say you should do what you love, I am even guilty of saying that at times, but that’s kind of a misleading concept.
If everyone only did what they loved, we would all find something else to bitch about. Born out of these bouts of running with hatred though are the really really good times. And I think if I ditched my hate run in favor of continual happy sunshine I would definitely take those good times for granted. I don’t know if this weekly ritual has had any play in making me better at running. I don’t even know if it’s just a masochistic endeavor that will end in injury someday. But for now hate running remains on my to do list. I guess what it all boils down to is that I don’t think there is such a thing as being over-prepared. Brace yourself for the worst, expect the worst, and maybe you will come out pleasantly surprised, in running and in life
Who are we really trying to kid here? Reason number 7 that I love to run was something I discovered this weekend at the Lee Foster Memorial 5 Mile Run in Saint Marys (being the 7th race of my life – and my quest to 30, I thought it was fitting). Let me start this recap by saying in the days leading up to this race, my motivation to go run it tanked dramatically. I don’t know why, but I was extremely nervous for this one.
I knew it was just a flat out and back, I knew I could run 5 miles (seriously, I just ran 10 the Monday before, and it wasn’t a flat out and back!), but for some reason, I thought I was going to choke. Like straight up get to mile 2, fall on my face, and die alone on the street everyone would make fun of me. I even enlisted my mother in law to ride along so that I couldn’t back out last minute. I don’t know how I could come off of just completing a Tough Mudder and get intimidated by a little local race, but it happened.
I’m so glad I got over it, because this race was really a blast. I ran without my GPS and put on one of my favorite Clutch albums for tunes, and just dropped the hammer. I soon found my pace with a girl close to my age and a man who was in his 70’s, but they both were keeping about 10 seconds faster per mile than I could.
Tonight I went to a neighborhood party and it was actually fun! Nothing crazy happened. We ate, drank, talked and laughed. Neither of the boys had any kind of meltdown, they both ate something and neither of them got into any kind of scuffle with any of the other dozen or so toddlers at the party.
They’re just getting to that age when the two of them can each play and have enough direction from us to be “good” boys (or at least have the potential to be).
So I’m happy. I’m just happy that we could be at a social gathering, that I could talk to a few people without interruption, that my boys played by themselves a little without any controversy or tears, and that my husband was so helpful. It may not seem like much to some but to me, it was a monumental evening. It’s the little things that make me happy these days.