I looked in the mirror. My face was a weird shade of purple, my hair was sticking out at all angles around my head, and all of my visible skin was shiny and red.
My Italian Mama stood next to me. Her face was slightly tinged with pink, she wasn't shiny. She didn't look rumpled. She looked pretty.
Believe it or not, we just finished the same workout. We did the Zumba "Sculpt and Tone" followed by the "Flat Abs" routine. Looking at the two of us, one could assume one of two things: 1) I worked out wayyyyy harder than she did or 2) she's in unbelievably better shape than I am. While the second may be true (though she denies it), the first is simply not true. She wiggles and bounces right along with me.
Then why do I need to cool down, shower, change, and rearrange my face, while all she has to do is put on different clothes? And the only reason that she even has to do that is because neither of us is in in the habit of wearing work-out clothes around the house or the town.
My face turns red when I merely think of working out. It proceeds quickly through the shades of red to a blotchy purple within minutes of beginning to exercise.
She has what I recently dubbed "sustained beauty." She can Zumba her heart out and appear no different for it. She believes that this is a disadvantage because people assume that she isn't working out as hard. I am jealous. While I collapse on the floor, panting and dripping, she sits on the couch and calmly and coolly checks her twitter. So much more ladylike.
One thing that is not different between the two of us is the result of this Zumba-ing. We both sweat (although I appear to do so to a greater degree) and we've both gained (yeah, that's right) three pounds over the past three weeks. What the heck?! Shouldn't a70 minutes of cardio and light weight training every day help you lose weight? Or at least maintain your current weight? What's with the upward tending of the scale's needle???
Now I've come to grips with the fact that my Italian heritage will not allow me to have slender hips, and small bum, and little thighs. What I got ain't goin' nowhere. I will never be skinny or slender or elegant. The most I can accomplish is a curvy cute due to the combination of short stature and genetics. All I'm asking is that I don't gain weight when I work out.
30 June 2012
25 June 2012
23 June 2012
There and Back Again
I've been gone a while, but I have a good excuse. We had a house guest for a week, then I left for a week. That didn't leave much time or opportunity to blog about the random happenings of my life.
The trip was amazing. I headed up to a dear friend's wedding. There were a whole bunch of girls in the bride's family's home. We arranged flowers, prepared food, decorated the hall, and attempted to throw a bachelorette party for the bride. I say attempted because the bride wasn't really there for any of it. While we all painted our nails and watched "My Big Fat Greek Wedding," she was upstairs, working on place cards.
The day of the wedding was beautiful. We got up early and moved efficiently, thanks to our shower schedule. The bride and bridesmaids all looked beautiful. We took pictures before the ceremony in a park that was down the street from the church. Mass was beautiful, the reception was fun, the food was fabulous, and the bride and groom looked as happy as can be.
On Sunday, I headed up toward school to spend a day with a dear friend. One day turned into five, which was a great decision. I had a marvelous time. She's getting married in December and asked me to be a bridesmaid, so we spent some time doing bridal things. We picked up her dress, went shoe shopping, and generally had a grand time.
I'm happy to be home, though. I would be happier without the cold, but such is life. :)
The trip was amazing. I headed up to a dear friend's wedding. There were a whole bunch of girls in the bride's family's home. We arranged flowers, prepared food, decorated the hall, and attempted to throw a bachelorette party for the bride. I say attempted because the bride wasn't really there for any of it. While we all painted our nails and watched "My Big Fat Greek Wedding," she was upstairs, working on place cards.
The day of the wedding was beautiful. We got up early and moved efficiently, thanks to our shower schedule. The bride and bridesmaids all looked beautiful. We took pictures before the ceremony in a park that was down the street from the church. Mass was beautiful, the reception was fun, the food was fabulous, and the bride and groom looked as happy as can be.
On Sunday, I headed up toward school to spend a day with a dear friend. One day turned into five, which was a great decision. I had a marvelous time. She's getting married in December and asked me to be a bridesmaid, so we spent some time doing bridal things. We picked up her dress, went shoe shopping, and generally had a grand time.
I'm happy to be home, though. I would be happier without the cold, but such is life. :)
12 June 2012
Out of my league
Doing things outside of one's capacity is good for one's... humility. Having recently received my final report card, a slice of humble pie was in order. I was served that slice of humble pie today.
I applied to the county Sheriff Department dispatcher training program a couple of weeks ago. Part of the six month (and I'm not exaggerating) hiring process is a CritiCall test. It's used toweed out the inferior assess the skills of the applicants. They have a really high applicant rate and they need to employ only the most qualified individuals.
Today I took that test.
And I failed it.
How embarrassing.
That was probably the hardest thing I have ever done. I just completed a rigorous four year college education. I picked the hardest classes to take in high school. I'm not dumb. But I failed the test.
Ouch.
I'm not used to being the one weeded out, but I was. Not harshly, mind you. It was a three hour test (or two hours if you're so wound up and neurotic that you do everything faster than necessary... not saying that's what I did. I'm not saying that's not what I did either...) with 20 modules that all tested different skills. You needed to pass all of the modules to get to the point that you could do the psych exam, physical exam, lie detector test, personal history profile, background check, etc., etc., etc.
18 of the modules I scored between 90% and 100%. The other two? I was short of the passing grade by just a smidge. And I knew it too. One of the two modules was one in which the automated voice read a string of 6 to 12 numbers and letters. After he was all the way done reading them, you had to type them into the little box. Dang it. I have always, always, always had trouble repeating back phone numbers, social security numbers, etc. from memory. I always switch a couple of the digits.
I was so tense during that test that my shoulders inhabited a region very near to my ears. Still working them back down.
Mum says it's good to do stuff out of your league once in a while to keep up your spirit of adventure.
I don't know about my spirit of adventure, but my feeling of inadequancy is alive and well now.
I applied to the county Sheriff Department dispatcher training program a couple of weeks ago. Part of the six month (and I'm not exaggerating) hiring process is a CritiCall test. It's used to
Today I took that test.
And I failed it.
How embarrassing.
That was probably the hardest thing I have ever done. I just completed a rigorous four year college education. I picked the hardest classes to take in high school. I'm not dumb. But I failed the test.
Ouch.
I'm not used to being the one weeded out, but I was. Not harshly, mind you. It was a three hour test (or two hours if you're so wound up and neurotic that you do everything faster than necessary... not saying that's what I did. I'm not saying that's not what I did either...) with 20 modules that all tested different skills. You needed to pass all of the modules to get to the point that you could do the psych exam, physical exam, lie detector test, personal history profile, background check, etc., etc., etc.
18 of the modules I scored between 90% and 100%. The other two? I was short of the passing grade by just a smidge. And I knew it too. One of the two modules was one in which the automated voice read a string of 6 to 12 numbers and letters. After he was all the way done reading them, you had to type them into the little box. Dang it. I have always, always, always had trouble repeating back phone numbers, social security numbers, etc. from memory. I always switch a couple of the digits.
I was so tense during that test that my shoulders inhabited a region very near to my ears. Still working them back down.
Mum says it's good to do stuff out of your league once in a while to keep up your spirit of adventure.
I don't know about my spirit of adventure, but my feeling of inadequancy is alive and well now.
07 June 2012
New Fads
I'm not normally one for fads, but there are a few exceptions.
When I was about six or seven, the movie Titanic came out. And oh. my. goodness. I begged and pleaded my mother to let me go. I was swept up in a fan CRAZE. She took me and I was walking on air. There was a maternal hand carefully shielding my young eyes at intervals, but I didn't care. I gloried in the beauty of it all, particularly Rose's dresses. (I have always loved pretty clothes. I was just too tired to wear them junior and senior years...) When the song came out, I copied out every word of it in orange marker and memorized it with a classmate. We sang it every day during recess, lunch, and after school.
There have been other occasional obsessions, but most of them have not been the popular ones. I've got one now, though: Zumba. It's the most fun way to get your cardio EVER. I would always run, dislocating every joint in the process. Zumba is basically an adaptation of Latin dancing by yourself, or, in my case, a retarded white person imitation of Latin dancing. So. Much. Fun. And everything stays in joint. I get exercise sans injury. Win!
And all the celebs are doing it. It's popular.
Next thing you know I'll be wearing stilettos and doing dietary "cleanses."
Kidding, Mum, kidding.
When I was about six or seven, the movie Titanic came out. And oh. my. goodness. I begged and pleaded my mother to let me go. I was swept up in a fan CRAZE. She took me and I was walking on air. There was a maternal hand carefully shielding my young eyes at intervals, but I didn't care. I gloried in the beauty of it all, particularly Rose's dresses. (I have always loved pretty clothes. I was just too tired to wear them junior and senior years...) When the song came out, I copied out every word of it in orange marker and memorized it with a classmate. We sang it every day during recess, lunch, and after school.
There have been other occasional obsessions, but most of them have not been the popular ones. I've got one now, though: Zumba. It's the most fun way to get your cardio EVER. I would always run, dislocating every joint in the process. Zumba is basically an adaptation of Latin dancing by yourself, or, in my case, a retarded white person imitation of Latin dancing. So. Much. Fun. And everything stays in joint. I get exercise sans injury. Win!
And all the celebs are doing it. It's popular.
Next thing you know I'll be wearing stilettos and doing dietary "cleanses."
Kidding, Mum, kidding.
05 June 2012
oooooops
I did it again. I get so enamored by the concept of free time and doing fun things that I start doing too many of them simultaneously. I'm in the middle of three different books and I started making four aprons. I have so many loose ends (literally and figuratively), I'm not sure which one to pick up first.
And instead of trying to pick up one or another, I blog about it.
Has anyone seen my apparently misplaced logic?
And instead of trying to pick up one or another, I blog about it.
Has anyone seen my apparently misplaced logic?
04 June 2012
Skeptic
One thing my college experience has done for me: made me a super suspicious reader. Everything I pick up (and I mean everything), I pick to pieces. I can't just pick up a book and read it anymore.
This has its benefits, but definitely cuts down on the simple enjoyment of reading.
Maybe I should just leave the reading and thinking to the men and continue baking cookies and sewing aprons.
Kidding!
This has its benefits, but definitely cuts down on the simple enjoyment of reading.
Maybe I should just leave the reading and thinking to the men and continue baking cookies and sewing aprons.
Kidding!
03 June 2012
Lesson Learned
Don't feed the dog while baking cookies.
I was happily milling barefoot around the kitchen, throwing together some peanut butter cookies, tasting bits of things as I went. Five o'clock rolled around: time to feed the dog.
I carefully measured out the dry kibble, drizzled the warm water on it, and added a scoop of wet food. The spoon had a bit of stuff on it and (you can probably guess where this is going), I went to put it in my mouth. I all but clamped down on it before I realized what I was doing.
I nearly dropped the spoon, I was so horrified.
Lesson learned.
I was happily milling barefoot around the kitchen, throwing together some peanut butter cookies, tasting bits of things as I went. Five o'clock rolled around: time to feed the dog.
I carefully measured out the dry kibble, drizzled the warm water on it, and added a scoop of wet food. The spoon had a bit of stuff on it and (you can probably guess where this is going), I went to put it in my mouth. I all but clamped down on it before I realized what I was doing.
I nearly dropped the spoon, I was so horrified.
Lesson learned.
No more holidays
Things around here are a changin'.
I graduated.
Hopefully now I'll keep up this blog more regularly.
Maybe not.
Who knows?
Not me.
I graduated.
Hopefully now I'll keep up this blog more regularly.
Maybe not.
Who knows?
Not me.
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