Every Monday and Wednesday at 10:30 if you need to find me I'll be at the gym at my "old people class." I recognize this is perhaps, not the most politically correct way to describe my gym class but that's what I call it.
Technically, I think the class is called "Fit for Life" or something like that. It was the first class I ventured into taking after joining the gym earlier this year and I didn't really know what to expect. I got to the class early and there was an older lady already there that greeted me with a warm smile and told me I'd need hand-weights and a mat. Soon others started arriving and I couldn't help but notice they were... umm...kind of older than me... I figured since it was during the day that the class would be full of stay at home moms but stay at home moms would be more like my age group and this was NOT my age group.
I actually thought about going to the front desk of the gym asking if this class was for seniors but what if it wasn't and what if someone in the class overhears me...I'd hate to offend anyone but at the same time I didn't want to spend an hour stepping from side to side for aerobic activity. I came here to burn calories damn't!
Let's just say I totally walked out of that class thinking that perhaps the man upstairs couldn't wipe the smirk off his face. Stepping from side to side?? Yea I'll show you stepping from side to side!! I totally broke out into a sweat in the first few minutes and was sore for days. It was such a good workout and the people in this class are friggin' hilarious.
Do you remember this commercial from the Superbowl? It's a car commercial and it's set in a senior home where they're all talking over each other and yelling, WHAT? to each other. This is my class.
Everyone knows everyone and have been working with the instructor for it seems like forever the way they talk. In my first class, half the ladies were more interested in gossiping asking the instructor, "Have you seen, Jenny? Is Amy coming back?" I'm pretty sure this crowd was especially boisterous because it was right after the holidays and everyone was just catching up with everyone but it still made for one comical cardio session. The instructor plays off this crowd beautifully and never misses a beat. Ruth, your other left. no your other left. NO YOUR OTHER LEFT. There you go Ruth!
It really is a riot and I may call it my old people class but let me tell you these old people they mean business and could probably put a lot of younger folks to shame. My butt saunters in at 10:30 but they've already done the water aerobics class that started at 9.
I can only hope that I'm that active at their age. I totally give them props. And it warms my heart how kind they all are and how determined they are to do the moves even if they don't always get them right. One gentleman in particular is so sweet. Roy. Always says hello to everyone and calls me Miss. I have a huge crush on Roy.
So yea, I faithfully work out every week now with a bunch of "old people" that kick my butt and make me laugh out loud and that's my kind of workout.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Audacious
I admit, I'm not in the best of places right now. I've been driving the bitter, "woe is me" bus heading straight to pity-ville all the while playing Radiohead at full blast.
I've already abused chocolate. Made a batch of brownies yesterday under the guise of I'm just a good little wife that decided to bake her hubby brownies. Little did he know I stood over the sink licking that bowl like a junkie just thirty minutes before he got home.
The sick to my stomach feeling after I finished licking the bowl still wasn't enough self-destructive behavior that I decided to steal a play direct from my sister's playbook-retail therapy. I went and bought me a hundred dollar pair of jeans. I DON'T EVEN KNOW IF I LIKE THEM.
I know that feeling sorry for myself is a wasteful extravagance and yet I can't seem to stop watching old re-runs of Grey's Anatomy on Lifetime. Oh, it's shameful really. As soon as my hubby leaves the front door I'm grabbing the remote and flipping from CNN to Lifetime. Grey's comes on at 9am. All the angst and turmoil why did I ever stop watching this show??? I'm pretty sure we stopped being Grey followers after we discovered The Office and Michael Scott.
During more wasteful time in front of the television, I came across the movie, "Hope Floats" with Sandra Bullock where she plays a woman that goes back to her hometown after learning on a talk show that her husband wants a divorce. I didn't watch the entire movie, after all people I do have a job even if I do it in yoga pants and a brownie-mix stained t-shirt.
But there's one scene where Sandra's old high school flame gives sad, depressed Sandra a good, talking-to in attempt to whip her into shape and tells her, "...you used to be so...audacious." Fighting words if I ever heard any. (this is what I thought AFTER I went to dictionary.com and made sure I knew the meaning of the word audacious)
But you know what, I used to be audacious TOO. For goodness sake, I moved to New York city without knowing a single soul in this town. I used to be so fearless. Damn't I used to be 23!
Things have never come easy to me-and this isn't a pity party-it's the truth. There are some people that live their lives where things just seem to fall into place or at least in their career lives. This is not me. I may have ended up with a great job in the big apple but I got my start at the mail room. Literally the mail room. And it was humbling but let me tell you-you learn a lot about people based on the mail they get. I could share some stories with you! But I was in that mail room for only a few months and got my butt hired in the newsroom.
Don't get me wrong-I'm still bummed and yea... still a little bitter (I won't lie) but determined to at least try to get a little of my 23-year old self back.
I've already abused chocolate. Made a batch of brownies yesterday under the guise of I'm just a good little wife that decided to bake her hubby brownies. Little did he know I stood over the sink licking that bowl like a junkie just thirty minutes before he got home.
The sick to my stomach feeling after I finished licking the bowl still wasn't enough self-destructive behavior that I decided to steal a play direct from my sister's playbook-retail therapy. I went and bought me a hundred dollar pair of jeans. I DON'T EVEN KNOW IF I LIKE THEM.
I know that feeling sorry for myself is a wasteful extravagance and yet I can't seem to stop watching old re-runs of Grey's Anatomy on Lifetime. Oh, it's shameful really. As soon as my hubby leaves the front door I'm grabbing the remote and flipping from CNN to Lifetime. Grey's comes on at 9am. All the angst and turmoil why did I ever stop watching this show??? I'm pretty sure we stopped being Grey followers after we discovered The Office and Michael Scott.
During more wasteful time in front of the television, I came across the movie, "Hope Floats" with Sandra Bullock where she plays a woman that goes back to her hometown after learning on a talk show that her husband wants a divorce. I didn't watch the entire movie, after all people I do have a job even if I do it in yoga pants and a brownie-mix stained t-shirt.
But there's one scene where Sandra's old high school flame gives sad, depressed Sandra a good, talking-to in attempt to whip her into shape and tells her, "...you used to be so...audacious." Fighting words if I ever heard any. (this is what I thought AFTER I went to dictionary.com and made sure I knew the meaning of the word audacious)
But you know what, I used to be audacious TOO. For goodness sake, I moved to New York city without knowing a single soul in this town. I used to be so fearless. Damn't I used to be 23!
Things have never come easy to me-and this isn't a pity party-it's the truth. There are some people that live their lives where things just seem to fall into place or at least in their career lives. This is not me. I may have ended up with a great job in the big apple but I got my start at the mail room. Literally the mail room. And it was humbling but let me tell you-you learn a lot about people based on the mail they get. I could share some stories with you! But I was in that mail room for only a few months and got my butt hired in the newsroom.
Don't get me wrong-I'm still bummed and yea... still a little bitter (I won't lie) but determined to at least try to get a little of my 23-year old self back.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Let Down
They say when one door closes it's so another one---the perfect one---opens. Well you can take your motivational speech and shove it where the sun don't shine.
I knew it was a long shot-I knew it was a miracle they even called me back after I applied for the job-heck usually I never even get a response so when I did get a call back...well let's just say this girl thought MAYBE just maybe her break has come and she'll finally land a job that fits her. . Anyway it doesn't matter because at 12:33 the HR lady sent the carefully worded email letting me know, it was GREAT talking to me but they've decided to "move on."
I guess I didn't even let myself know how much I really wanted that job until I learned I didn't get it because I certainly didn't think there'd be tears shed over the news.
I will be the first one to tell you that getting laid off, albeit under the umbrella of a recession and a bad economy hits you hard. There is comfort that you aren't the only one-that dozens of others in your company met the same fate...yet you can't stop the voice inside your head that says, still they choose you.
You-in their eyes were dispensable. Not the chic that sat next to you or across from you. You. You were laid off and no matter how much you try to shut that voice up-it's always there. And you've looked at it a hundred different ways and on a good day you tell yourself-you know what everything happens for a reason.
Well after two years in unfulfilling freelance gigs the "reason" is still a damn mystery to me.
I knew it was a long shot-I knew it was a miracle they even called me back after I applied for the job-heck usually I never even get a response so when I did get a call back...well let's just say this girl thought MAYBE just maybe her break has come and she'll finally land a job that fits her. . Anyway it doesn't matter because at 12:33 the HR lady sent the carefully worded email letting me know, it was GREAT talking to me but they've decided to "move on."
I guess I didn't even let myself know how much I really wanted that job until I learned I didn't get it because I certainly didn't think there'd be tears shed over the news.
I will be the first one to tell you that getting laid off, albeit under the umbrella of a recession and a bad economy hits you hard. There is comfort that you aren't the only one-that dozens of others in your company met the same fate...yet you can't stop the voice inside your head that says, still they choose you.
You-in their eyes were dispensable. Not the chic that sat next to you or across from you. You. You were laid off and no matter how much you try to shut that voice up-it's always there. And you've looked at it a hundred different ways and on a good day you tell yourself-you know what everything happens for a reason.
Well after two years in unfulfilling freelance gigs the "reason" is still a damn mystery to me.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Checking In....
So I feel like a little update is in order. Besides, I have a zillion things I should/NEED to be doing now so what better way to procrastinate than to update my lil' blog on my spiritual, oral and mental well-being?!
You know the whole "meditating for a minute" thing I was all gung-ho about that Oprah swear would make me happier? Yea...not going so well. I think maybe (and this is a stretch) I did it a total of five days. I don't know what it says about me that I can't seem to dedicate 60 seconds of my day to SILENCE. 60 seconds.
I faced Olga, my never satisfied hygienist last Wednesday. And let me tell you I really stepped it up. I can only think of TWO nights that I went to bed without flossing. Superbowl Sunday and the night of the Grammy's. Those margaritas really put me to sleep FAST.
Less drinking = healthier teeth.
Olga was still not satisfied; although...dare I say, she was a little kinder. She wants me to come back in three months. She says my gum line is receding and that my flossing isn't reaching far enough and my roots are going to be exposed and if that happens it'll REALLY SUCK so I have to fork out 150 bucks because my insurance doesn't cover more than two cleanings a year. I suppose I could just go back in six months but who wants an exposed root? That just sounds bad.
The SCAR from the SURGERY. Well, it's been three months since the surgery and while my scarf collection has grown considerably...
This was my scarf collection right after the surgery...
And this is my collection now...
This whole scarf thing can't go on much longer. It definitely helps to have colorful array of options at my disposal-but the weather is starting to warm up and on a recent freakishy warm day when it was in the 60's, I went out to lunch with some friends. I wore one of my lighter-weight scarves but regardless it started getting H.O.T. After a long walk to the restaurant, and sitting too close to the fire in the restaurant (nice touch people but it's 60 degrees outside) I was over-heating and it was all I could do to not rip that scarf off.
Maybe if I had been more consistent with my "meditation for a minute" thing I might have not grown so irritable in my own hotness.
I know this sounds ridiculous but I used to have a pretty good-looking neck! And I miss it. The location of the incision is in such an INCONVENIENT spot-it really is. It's hard to find a necklace-that can really hide it. It's just too high up on the neck. And I'm not really into the whole choker thing.
I learned this the hard way when I was struggling to figure out what to wear to a business meeting.
Oh, what a nightmare it was. Scarves are great but when it comes to dressing in business attire I can't really see how to not look like an airline attendant...
or an un-hip, middle-aged mom....
This lady looks very nice, in fact I'd go as far as to say she's probably the nicest lady in the office but this is not me. I'm a YOUNG 30-something! I'm still hip...well kinda....
I was able to wear a button down shirt with a collar that went pretty high up and dug up some fake pearls on a flimsy string that my hubby was able to twist so they stayed higher up on the neck.
So for now, I'm on a mission to find an everyday necklace that actually covers this scar or somehow figure out to pull out the Jackie O inspired look....
You know the whole "meditating for a minute" thing I was all gung-ho about that Oprah swear would make me happier? Yea...not going so well. I think maybe (and this is a stretch) I did it a total of five days. I don't know what it says about me that I can't seem to dedicate 60 seconds of my day to SILENCE. 60 seconds.
I faced Olga, my never satisfied hygienist last Wednesday. And let me tell you I really stepped it up. I can only think of TWO nights that I went to bed without flossing. Superbowl Sunday and the night of the Grammy's. Those margaritas really put me to sleep FAST.
Less drinking = healthier teeth.
Olga was still not satisfied; although...dare I say, she was a little kinder. She wants me to come back in three months. She says my gum line is receding and that my flossing isn't reaching far enough and my roots are going to be exposed and if that happens it'll REALLY SUCK so I have to fork out 150 bucks because my insurance doesn't cover more than two cleanings a year. I suppose I could just go back in six months but who wants an exposed root? That just sounds bad.
The SCAR from the SURGERY. Well, it's been three months since the surgery and while my scarf collection has grown considerably...
This was my scarf collection right after the surgery...
And this is my collection now...
This whole scarf thing can't go on much longer. It definitely helps to have colorful array of options at my disposal-but the weather is starting to warm up and on a recent freakishy warm day when it was in the 60's, I went out to lunch with some friends. I wore one of my lighter-weight scarves but regardless it started getting H.O.T. After a long walk to the restaurant, and sitting too close to the fire in the restaurant (nice touch people but it's 60 degrees outside) I was over-heating and it was all I could do to not rip that scarf off.
Maybe if I had been more consistent with my "meditation for a minute" thing I might have not grown so irritable in my own hotness.
I know this sounds ridiculous but I used to have a pretty good-looking neck! And I miss it. The location of the incision is in such an INCONVENIENT spot-it really is. It's hard to find a necklace-that can really hide it. It's just too high up on the neck. And I'm not really into the whole choker thing.
I learned this the hard way when I was struggling to figure out what to wear to a business meeting.
Oh, what a nightmare it was. Scarves are great but when it comes to dressing in business attire I can't really see how to not look like an airline attendant...
or an un-hip, middle-aged mom....
This lady looks very nice, in fact I'd go as far as to say she's probably the nicest lady in the office but this is not me. I'm a YOUNG 30-something! I'm still hip...well kinda....
I was able to wear a button down shirt with a collar that went pretty high up and dug up some fake pearls on a flimsy string that my hubby was able to twist so they stayed higher up on the neck.
So for now, I'm on a mission to find an everyday necklace that actually covers this scar or somehow figure out to pull out the Jackie O inspired look....
But let's be real. The chances of me pulling off a look like this are about as high as me becoming a dedicated meditator....slim to none. Maybe if I had Olga as my spiritual leader or stylist...at least I'd be scared into taking action.
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