It's not that I don't trust Giraffy, I just thought she was lying.
A little white lie to keep me going, kind of like, "Let's go run, it'll be great". It's never really great. But by then, I have shown up, in a sports bra and everything, and I may as well try and lose those 2 Butterfinger bars that were truly great with tea last night.
I thought it was part of her ploy to get me to realize that there IS, in fact running after the occasional 5k. She suggested I train for a half marathon, after I turned green and died of jealousy at all the Tinkerbell Half fun had without me.
I ran 4 miles a few times, and then 5, and then 7, and then a magical thing happened. I realized that after the first 3 miles (so, a 5k), all of a sudden, it truly gets easier. It's counterintuitive, because my brain after 3 miles is ready for the shower, bed, cookies, whatever I've promised and delivered before. But, somewhere something else clicks, and it's like your body gives up. But in a good way - "OK, I guess, if you insist, we can do this together.." Breathing is easier, legs find a rythm, and all of a sudden you feel like you can do this, for a while, and you're going to be just fine. It's almost a teeny bit enjoyable. Not GREAT, mind you, but not bad. In contrast to the recent 5k's I've ran without training or practice, where I felt like I might pass out right after the finish line banana. Who knew you can keep going after all that?
As a built in bonus, once 3 miles is no longer your longest distance ever, it starts to look and feel really short. Hard to believe that around this time last year, I'd hop off the treadmill at 1 mile and congratulate myself on having gone that far.
I hope someone as lazy as me reads this and gets inspired - from couch to 5K to ..? Who knows. Couple years ago I couldn't jog a quarter mile. Giraffy and I started jalking - jog-walking couple years ago, ending our 'workouts' with a beer. She's now running crazy mileage each week, and training for a marathon, I'm training for a half. My total miles for March were 68! It crept up so slowly, and one day few weeks ago, we were jogging at a steady pace, and talking, and it occured to me, we were TALKING, and running, at the same time, for a while now. I guess that moment was a little bit great.
This Saturday we ran 9 miles - to a little nature preserve near by. Getting up at 5:30 am for me is super ugly. But we got there, and the sun was rising, the birds were chirping, the morning fog was drifting over the streams as we crossed them. It feels surreal to have a place like that in the middle of Orange County, block away from a shopping center, and commercial center. I really wished I had brought my Nikon, but I'm guessing constant shaking for 2 hours is not good for it. I was tired for a couple days afterwards and unreasonably hungry. Like, burned 900 calories, but wanted to eat the entire supermarket. But I felt great.
I still don't like running. The actual feet shuffling part of it, KILLS me the first 2-3 miles, every time. You'd think it would get better, but it's like your body forgets and hopes you did too, and acts all shocked that you're doing it all over again. But the larger picture - being in shape, getting places the way your body was meant to, being able to eat all of the desert aisle without much guilt or consequence, and the top of the world feeling at the end of each long run - those are a little bit great.
Did I mention 9 whole miles??! 9 of them! All made possible by the totally real second wind - that kicks in around mile 4 and for me, lasted until about mile 9. That last one mile I really wanted nothing to do with, except that it was getting me home. Average pace 11:40. (How do I know this?) Mr Snork got me a Garmin Forunner. Which, by the way is the other really cool thing about running - all the accessories. A GPS watch. The skirts. The headbands. The medals. Its really a never ending pool of positive reinforcement possibilities.
Showing posts with label ways to waste time. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ways to waste time. Show all posts
1.4.12
Bikram Yoga Is a Terrible Way to Spend Your Time. - Review
It sucks. There, I said it.
These Groupons will be the death of me. I thought it was such a good deal, and I know a couple people who seem to really like it, so I bought and signed up for the $25 for 25 sessions, dragging the running Giraffe with me. Without the coupon, their pricing is outrageous, and I having gone, I don't see where the money goes - to heat up the room?
--Scratch that, I looked up Bikram the Man talking about making "about 10 million a month". So, I guess, I know where it goes. Meanwhile, 24 Hour Fitness charges a tiny fraction of that, and offers yoga classes. And babysitting. And they are way nicer. And don't smell like feet. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
I went a few times, just to make sure, that I wasn't being a sissy. I didn't want to be a quitter, and I didn't want to have $25 go to waste. So, I guess I AM, in fact a quitter, but the $25 did not go to waste, I now KNOW what it's like, and it's not pretty.
Out of the three instructors I had, two were pretty good, and one was not so good, and really, kinda mean. It was during her long, tedious 90 minute reign that I had a chance to gather my thoughts about what really irks me about the her, Bikram, and the whole thing in general:
1. Who is Bikram? I did some rudimentary internet research, and it appears he is a liar who makes a lot of money. And knows some yoga stuff. I also think he is a tremendously successful businessman. He is also the one personally certifying the teachers - and it appears that his medical background is next to non existant. So, when the instructor started talking about how - the deeper you bend, the harder you squeeze - your various organs are getting compressed, and then decompressed, and all the fresh oxygenated blood is rushing to them, I was a little skeptical.
I feel like thousands of years of evolution have been at work to make sure that I don't squish my kidneys and liver every time I bend down to vacuum the sideboards. I just don't think it's that easy to wring out your internal organs. I don't think pulling my knees to my chest will do it. At some point, I started feeling like I'm really going to need this instructor to show me a medical degree if she's going to keep that up. It all sounded a little too, "The earth is flat" to me.
2. Speaking of freshly oxygenating your organs: I mentioned the room smells like feet. Dirty, stinky feet, that haven't been washed in a long time. You'd think they could spring for a steam cleaning more often, with all that money coming in. 150+ people in a room worth of income. It's costs $28 to rent a carpet steamer at Vons. The smell hits you pretty hard in the beginning, and, then, as you get adjusted to your new steamy, murky, hot surroundings, it mercifully dissipates. Until towards the last 3rd of the class, when you start getting a little nauseated - it comes back, and it hits you pretty hard. It occurred to me I really don't want this dirty foot oxygen anywhere near my organs. Really, the very existence of oxygen, fresh or otherwise is questionable, since 150 people are using it, too, and the room is locked up.
3. You can't leave the room, or at least they try to make you stay. I've seen people leave to puke. I've seen people leave almost every class. Except today, when a person got up to go and got told to sit back down. The instructors vary on their water breaks, too - which, by the way is $3 per bottle if you didn't bring your own. There is NO water fountain there. Why would there be. Some instructors say you can't have water except on scheduled breaks, period. Some let you have it, but never 'during poses'. You're almost always in a pose, unless it's a scheduled water break, so I don't understand how that works. I sipped water whenever I felt like it.
4. I smell lawsuits coming. I didn't sign any paperwork, and the studio makes less disclaimers than the gym yoga classes. Like, none, really - except that if you're new, you shouldn't be in the front row. There are so many people in the room, and particularly when they run the price reduction specials - you really don't know what physical shape people are in. When you tell them they can't leave the room, can't have water, and it's OK to feel nauseated and lightheaded - you are paving your way to trouble. That's your body telling you to knock off what you're doing. It's been perfected over time, and pretty dependable, just like the location and access to your internal organs.
5. And finally - the inconsistencies. The constant, "Push harder, harder, - your joints should hurt, it's ok to feel lightheaded, push on - press on, it's only 10 more seconds.." And later, "yoga is not about depth.. it's about breathing, and stillness, and depth will come through them, so never go past your breath".
So, here's the thing, if you make someone squat, stretch, and try to push to have their forehead planted on the floor, between your feet - punctuated by sit ups, in a 110" room or hotter, and be all militant about it, they are probably going past their breath. Some are close to passing out. Otherwise - why would you tell them to lay down and catch their breath after each try? Hmm.
5. "Breathe through your nose, because breathing through your mouth activates the fight or flight response" - And you get panicky and want to leave. All 3 instructors talked about the importance of sticking it out. About how you want to leave the whole time. All the time. Fight or flight. "Your body wants to leave, and your mind is trying to help. You don't really want to pee, your mind is playing tricks on you. It's trying to help your body leave this room". Umm. I don't know about you, but I can't keep dedicating 90 minutes to an activity that my body hates so much, all the time, now and in the future, that it makes stuff up. Fake peeing is nothing to joke about.
Having read about this Bikram guy, and his 40 Roll Royces collection, I have a feeling it's important to keep coming back to help him add to his collection.
I think Bikram, in trying to marry the peacefulness and stillness of yoga to a very trendy, marketable, allegedly calorie burning, profitable fitness miracle has created a mess. A trendy, stinky, very profitable mess - although I must admit, having sweated out 2 liters of water, and finally stepping out into actually fresh air - I did feel more alive and invigorated. In part, because I escaped and live to tell the story.
I read all sorts of estimates of what Bikram yoga session might burn - as low as 300, and as high as 1200 calories. My feeling is it's in the lower numbers, and your body's natural response to artificial stimuli exaggerates your perception of the benefits. Even at that, it doesn't last. I do feel more bendy, and stretchy afterwards, but I never feel like I used up massive amounts of my energy the way other activities make me feel. I know that in 90 minutes of running, or even lazy jogging I can wreck some calories.
I have yet to leave the yoga studio and feel like I have earned an extra serving of cupcakes in my near future.
In short, even though I don't like it much either, I'll stick to running and 24Fitness yoga classes in regular old boring room temperature.
12.3.11
Obsession Du Jour: Impractical Dresses
What's a girl to do to pass time once she sprouts a formidable 6 month fetus belly? Why, shop for hourglass figure dresses, of course. And it's all TMobile's fault.
I saw one in their commercial (with whom I'm not even on speaking terms, because their upgrade policy is awful. New customers get shiny, pretty phones, and meanwhile, my Blackberry looks like it suffered a from a 5 story window. Twice. Into a dump truck. With tree mulching capabilities.) But, their insistence on charging me hundreds of dollars for a new phone is less annoying than putting pretty dresses on their TV models, and having me find out they were custom made.
I don't recall how exactly, but this has led to a massive, unreasonable in its span, search for 50's dresses on Ebay, Etsy, this weekends' yard sales and favorite GMarts. It's still ongoing. I am seeing a whole lot of ugly 80's, and none of pretty 50's.
Meanwhile, I might have purchased this:
Also currently stalking this wrap dress:
Not a huge fan of the colouring, but I want to make one like it, out of some fabric I have, that's scary close to the cabbage rose pattern fabric in the above dress.
And, possibly this one:
So, essentially, not only has TMobile wronged me in their handling of my phone needs, I am now possibly three dresses deep into a dress, and the toll is rising, since none of them so far look anything like THE dress. Which is fine, really, cause I can't fit into anything with a waist for another 3 months, and it's questionable thereafter, with the amount of cake I have been throwing down my throat. Stupid TV.
I saw one in their commercial (with whom I'm not even on speaking terms, because their upgrade policy is awful. New customers get shiny, pretty phones, and meanwhile, my Blackberry looks like it suffered a from a 5 story window. Twice. Into a dump truck. With tree mulching capabilities.) But, their insistence on charging me hundreds of dollars for a new phone is less annoying than putting pretty dresses on their TV models, and having me find out they were custom made.
I don't recall how exactly, but this has led to a massive, unreasonable in its span, search for 50's dresses on Ebay, Etsy, this weekends' yard sales and favorite GMarts. It's still ongoing. I am seeing a whole lot of ugly 80's, and none of pretty 50's.
Meanwhile, I might have purchased this:
Which I was hoping to alter into the TMobile dress, but there pretty buttons in the back:
Mr Snork has repeatedly expressed his hope that if I *were* to wear this out (he says incredulously) I would "at least take those sleeves off". If he keeps it up, I'm gonna wear it, with sleeves, to his office to drop off lunch.
Also currently stalking this wrap dress:
Not a huge fan of the colouring, but I want to make one like it, out of some fabric I have, that's scary close to the cabbage rose pattern fabric in the above dress.
And, possibly this one:
The front!!
So, essentially, not only has TMobile wronged me in their handling of my phone needs, I am now possibly three dresses deep into a dress, and the toll is rising, since none of them so far look anything like THE dress. Which is fine, really, cause I can't fit into anything with a waist for another 3 months, and it's questionable thereafter, with the amount of cake I have been throwing down my throat. Stupid TV.
9.6.10
CDM5k "Success"
I was pretty psyched that I came in 518th. Out of like, 3,000 people. Nope. Out of 680.
76th percentile. As in, not even in the top three quarters.
And, why is it that every 'official' picture of me looks terrible? I was really hoping for a Baywatch type slow - motion captured on film, long flowing hair, bouncy boobs and everything. Fail.
Giraffy looks super awesome, and totally in Baywatch mode, and I look like I'm reciting the little drummers part in the Nutcracker.
More training in order.
On the bright side, Mr Snork's pictures look like he's taking a poop, so that's pleasing. Does that make me a bad partner?
And some creepy awesome flowers.
And, there was creme brulee at the end. AND, chicks stopped me to ask what I did to my shirt, cause I shortened it, did a swirly embroider thing on the sleeves and gathered the shoulders. So, it's almost like I had fans. I felt very celebrity like.
Also, let's dicuss this look:
I think I might like it. I think I want those boots.
I do.
I definately do.
27.1.10
It's Hump Day!
Here's a small list of things I am currently excited about:
It being hump day, and the fact that I haven't called in sick to work yet. Or at all in, like, MONTHS.
My best friend is coming out to visit from Chicago. We've been friends since high school, and lived together in college, and have matching tattoos even, with our initials. I miss her.
Everlast Shadow Boxing at 24HourFitness (aka Jump Rope Till You Pass Out, and Then Throw a Couple Punches as You're Going Down In a Blackout) was (3d time) awesome, and for the first time today I participated 95% of the class. I was at about 60% first time and 75% second time. I can't drop down in a flurry of pushups just yet, but I can do 4-5 while she's counting 10. Last couple times I rolled around on the ground or stood around and drank water during pushups, jump rope, and a variety of other things she needs you to do while acting like you're on speed. Progress!!!
It only took me 2 tries in one eye and 3 in the other to put in contact lenses, and I didn't have glasses fogging up and bouncing on my nose during all the jumping/hopping/boxing/push uping. I don't wear contact lenses often, so it usually take me a half hour to wrestle them into my eyeballs, and then I look like i've been in a crying fit for the rest of the day. More progress!
Giraffy and I are heading to Big Bear this weekend, where us SoCal-ers can see some REAL snow!! YIHAW. I've been looking for a sled on Craigslist and Goodwill, but not so much.
The pants we dumpstered for Giraffy's anklebiter#2 FIT her!!! $2.25 snowboard pants. WIN. I've enjoyed actually having something specific to look for while 'dumpstering', and it's prevented me from bringing crap home. ($2 Clothing items are addicting)
If we didn't end up going to Big Bear, some friends are going dirt biking in the hills (Also in snow!). I love having weekend fun options, doing cool things, and having awesome friends to do them with. I am secretly hoping that we end up needing chains on the way to/from Big Bear, because giraffy delcared today she would not pay $30 for those road side men to put them on, and instead she will look up. Youtube videos. Of how to put chains. On a vehicle. With any luck and chain law in effect, I have some quality snowside entertainment coming.
While dropping off said pants, we got to partake in freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.
Jill at Bluebonnet Trails sent me some Shea Butter soap, and some Camommile Lavender Soap, and wicked good smelling wax tarts, and all just in time for my hair washing day (which is an exciting affair to beging with. Ever since this no 'poo experiment any time I get to wash my hair I'm happy like a mud puddle piglet)
Jesse downloaded "Keeping Up Appearances" for me,
and I am about to go watch a couple episodes and dissolve in a cup of tea..from my Royal Doulton with handpainted blue periwinkles.
(that last part only makes sense if you're also an avid Hyacinth Bucket fan)
It being hump day, and the fact that I haven't called in sick to work yet. Or at all in, like, MONTHS.
My best friend is coming out to visit from Chicago. We've been friends since high school, and lived together in college, and have matching tattoos even, with our initials. I miss her.
Everlast Shadow Boxing at 24HourFitness (aka Jump Rope Till You Pass Out, and Then Throw a Couple Punches as You're Going Down In a Blackout) was (3d time) awesome, and for the first time today I participated 95% of the class. I was at about 60% first time and 75% second time. I can't drop down in a flurry of pushups just yet, but I can do 4-5 while she's counting 10. Last couple times I rolled around on the ground or stood around and drank water during pushups, jump rope, and a variety of other things she needs you to do while acting like you're on speed. Progress!!!
It only took me 2 tries in one eye and 3 in the other to put in contact lenses, and I didn't have glasses fogging up and bouncing on my nose during all the jumping/hopping/boxing/push uping. I don't wear contact lenses often, so it usually take me a half hour to wrestle them into my eyeballs, and then I look like i've been in a crying fit for the rest of the day. More progress!
Giraffy and I are heading to Big Bear this weekend, where us SoCal-ers can see some REAL snow!! YIHAW. I've been looking for a sled on Craigslist and Goodwill, but not so much.
The pants we dumpstered for Giraffy's anklebiter#2 FIT her!!! $2.25 snowboard pants. WIN. I've enjoyed actually having something specific to look for while 'dumpstering', and it's prevented me from bringing crap home. ($2 Clothing items are addicting)
If we didn't end up going to Big Bear, some friends are going dirt biking in the hills (Also in snow!). I love having weekend fun options, doing cool things, and having awesome friends to do them with. I am secretly hoping that we end up needing chains on the way to/from Big Bear, because giraffy delcared today she would not pay $30 for those road side men to put them on, and instead she will look up. Youtube videos. Of how to put chains. On a vehicle. With any luck and chain law in effect, I have some quality snowside entertainment coming.
While dropping off said pants, we got to partake in freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.
Jill at Bluebonnet Trails sent me some Shea Butter soap, and some Camommile Lavender Soap, and wicked good smelling wax tarts, and all just in time for my hair washing day (which is an exciting affair to beging with. Ever since this no 'poo experiment any time I get to wash my hair I'm happy like a mud puddle piglet)
Jesse downloaded "Keeping Up Appearances" for me,
and I am about to go watch a couple episodes and dissolve in a cup of tea..from my Royal Doulton with handpainted blue periwinkles.
(that last part only makes sense if you're also an avid Hyacinth Bucket fan)
21.1.10
Knee Deep in Survival Mode
I may have mentioned is it a gray, cold, stormy Southern California week. Three days this week there have been thunder storms. Do you ever worry that lightning will hit you through the window? If you don't, don't worry, I worry for you.
I remember when I was may be 9, in a village in Ukraine, my grandmother was burning the fire stove, and a thunderstorm came. My grandmother took me and my great grand mother across the yard to the underground cellar each house has next to it, in lieu of a fridge. We stood there, in the dark, next to sacks of potatoes, pickled tomatoes, and fruit jellies for a good half hour, waiting out the storm. I wondered at the time why a lightning would pick ours, the smallest of all village houses, to strike, but my grandmother was determined to wait it out, since "lightning looks for heat". We giggled whilw we were in there. I think my great grandmother may have sworn out loud. It was pitch dark. But it never occurred to my grandmother to take a chance and go back tot eh warm house. So, I guess, it's genetic.
It crept up on me with age, and fear of heights, and I wonder if it has to do with being OCD, but I am action packed with paranoia. There's lightning outside right now, and I am pretty sure it's out to get me. I researched online and found out I am safe in my vehicle in a storm. But not in my tent. Check out the National Weather Service Lightning Safety Site. The dude who got killed in his tent?? "A bolt struck a boulder next to the the tent, travelled through the ground, into the tent, and into the guy's elbow" ?! I am scarred for life just having read that. It travelled through the ground, and INTO the tent. How sneaky and underhanded is that? I think lightning, and I think avoid standing in a puddle, touching the tent poles and my thermos. I never think, 'float in the air'. I will now, though. I'm all over it.
Or, same site, check out these cows:
A little more straightforward, they were feeding through the fence when the lightning came. But still.
It also JUMPS. Take note, it travels underground, and JUMPS. This is why they tell you not to stand next to large objects that might attract the current. What they don't tell you is stuff like it can travel horizontally for 5-10 miles. Next time you're out about in a storm, try and make sure you're not next to anything for about 5-10 miles. Oh, except, I guess, if you succeed, you ARE the large object.
I am learning to make sure that when a storm hits I'm in a non convertible vehicle of some sort. Everything points to these being pretty safe. As long as you're not listening to the radio. There's always a catch. Like, the fact that it travels under ground. Or through plumbing. Or jumps.
I got woken up by the thunder noise, and I couldn't go back to sleep. (that's what I get for skipping gym and napping). Jesse isn't troubled at all, and I hesitate to share with him that I have calculated approximately 65 lightning paths that all lead to me. Most of them have to do with the bedroom window, and a couple with my mug of tea. It JUMPS, people!
Last time we camped in Moab, UT, there was a giant lightning storm dancing on the rock rides all around us. I was fascinated, and took a million pictures to catch just a few flashes.
My absolutely favorite camping picture EVER:
If you zoom in on the lightning, it even looks like a little man falling down. I think it was speaking to me. Talk about omens.
I also asked Jesse if I would be safe if, say, I curled up on top of the truck tire. As in the wheel. I spent a good 10 minutes mentally arranging myself on top of a truck wheel, in a fashion that would have all my body parts off the ground and under th truck, simultaneously. Talk about survival instinct kicking in. I decided there was about 50 lbs too much of me to effectively carry it out. Or we need much bigger tires.
Back then, cell phones weren't working, and I didn't know about this truck safety thing, it seemed like a giant steel electrocuter box, and I was safer planted on some nice, non conductive rocks; I even stayed away from the grill you see there in the picture. We were even camped out on the National Weather Safety No-no: a hill ridge. To be fair, the storm seemed to be pretty far off, and cell phones had no reception to read about how it travels horizontally for up to 10 miles. Next time I am camping though, and a storm hits, you best believe I will be holed up in the truck, folding up myself as compact as possible and thinking very small thoughts. I am not trying to hang out somewhere and wait till I feel my hair stand up (St Elmo's Fire, old sailors call it)
On the bright side, this has taken my mnd off the constant worrying that an earthquake is looming (Southern California, we're long overdue, says the History Channel). If ever I DO get lightning struck, the headlines will never say, "Unsuspecting SoCal Woman Taken Out by Freak Lightning Strike". Insead, I hope they have the good sense for something like, "A Very Suspicious Woman Taken Out By Lightning She Fully Expected As It Struck Through the Window, Travelled Alarm Clock Wire, and Jumped Out Her Tea Mug At Her".
I remember when I was may be 9, in a village in Ukraine, my grandmother was burning the fire stove, and a thunderstorm came. My grandmother took me and my great grand mother across the yard to the underground cellar each house has next to it, in lieu of a fridge. We stood there, in the dark, next to sacks of potatoes, pickled tomatoes, and fruit jellies for a good half hour, waiting out the storm. I wondered at the time why a lightning would pick ours, the smallest of all village houses, to strike, but my grandmother was determined to wait it out, since "lightning looks for heat". We giggled whilw we were in there. I think my great grandmother may have sworn out loud. It was pitch dark. But it never occurred to my grandmother to take a chance and go back tot eh warm house. So, I guess, it's genetic.
It crept up on me with age, and fear of heights, and I wonder if it has to do with being OCD, but I am action packed with paranoia. There's lightning outside right now, and I am pretty sure it's out to get me. I researched online and found out I am safe in my vehicle in a storm. But not in my tent. Check out the National Weather Service Lightning Safety Site. The dude who got killed in his tent?? "A bolt struck a boulder next to the the tent, travelled through the ground, into the tent, and into the guy's elbow" ?! I am scarred for life just having read that. It travelled through the ground, and INTO the tent. How sneaky and underhanded is that? I think lightning, and I think avoid standing in a puddle, touching the tent poles and my thermos. I never think, 'float in the air'. I will now, though. I'm all over it.
Or, same site, check out these cows:
A little more straightforward, they were feeding through the fence when the lightning came. But still.
It also JUMPS. Take note, it travels underground, and JUMPS. This is why they tell you not to stand next to large objects that might attract the current. What they don't tell you is stuff like it can travel horizontally for 5-10 miles. Next time you're out about in a storm, try and make sure you're not next to anything for about 5-10 miles. Oh, except, I guess, if you succeed, you ARE the large object.
I am learning to make sure that when a storm hits I'm in a non convertible vehicle of some sort. Everything points to these being pretty safe. As long as you're not listening to the radio. There's always a catch. Like, the fact that it travels under ground. Or through plumbing. Or jumps.
I got woken up by the thunder noise, and I couldn't go back to sleep. (that's what I get for skipping gym and napping). Jesse isn't troubled at all, and I hesitate to share with him that I have calculated approximately 65 lightning paths that all lead to me. Most of them have to do with the bedroom window, and a couple with my mug of tea. It JUMPS, people!
Last time we camped in Moab, UT, there was a giant lightning storm dancing on the rock rides all around us. I was fascinated, and took a million pictures to catch just a few flashes.
My absolutely favorite camping picture EVER:
If you zoom in on the lightning, it even looks like a little man falling down. I think it was speaking to me. Talk about omens.
I also asked Jesse if I would be safe if, say, I curled up on top of the truck tire. As in the wheel. I spent a good 10 minutes mentally arranging myself on top of a truck wheel, in a fashion that would have all my body parts off the ground and under th truck, simultaneously. Talk about survival instinct kicking in. I decided there was about 50 lbs too much of me to effectively carry it out. Or we need much bigger tires.
Back then, cell phones weren't working, and I didn't know about this truck safety thing, it seemed like a giant steel electrocuter box, and I was safer planted on some nice, non conductive rocks; I even stayed away from the grill you see there in the picture. We were even camped out on the National Weather Safety No-no: a hill ridge. To be fair, the storm seemed to be pretty far off, and cell phones had no reception to read about how it travels horizontally for up to 10 miles. Next time I am camping though, and a storm hits, you best believe I will be holed up in the truck, folding up myself as compact as possible and thinking very small thoughts. I am not trying to hang out somewhere and wait till I feel my hair stand up (St Elmo's Fire, old sailors call it)
On the bright side, this has taken my mnd off the constant worrying that an earthquake is looming (Southern California, we're long overdue, says the History Channel). If ever I DO get lightning struck, the headlines will never say, "Unsuspecting SoCal Woman Taken Out by Freak Lightning Strike". Insead, I hope they have the good sense for something like, "A Very Suspicious Woman Taken Out By Lightning She Fully Expected As It Struck Through the Window, Travelled Alarm Clock Wire, and Jumped Out Her Tea Mug At Her".
18.1.10
Oatmeal "Dry Shampoo"
I am not proud of it, but my “no shampoo” experiment has actually turned into a ‘throw anything you find at your hair, as long as it’s not shampoo”. Seriously, I’m a week away from grinding up egg yolks and mayo.
Breakfast Gone Wrong:
So, I washed IT (IT=hair)Friday night. A day ahead of wash schedule, cause I like to live on the edge and it was really hurting for a washing. I wanted to try on wedding dresses Saturday, and you can't feel like a princess with what I got going on upstairs. Jill at Bluebonnet Trails sent me a test chunk of mild soap she’s got, to hold me over till she makes a batch of shampoo bars. It's made with cammomille, coconut oils, lemon and lime oil, and sodium hydroxide (neutralized lye). I wasn’t sure about this sodium hydroxide business – so I only used a little bit, lest it strip my hair like a shampoo. It didn’t. It foamed nicely, just a little, and felt clean. I scrubbed. It felt clean. But there was still that ‘waxy’ feeling, like when I didn't use enough baking soda that one time. So gross. I'm considering burning my towels.
I like the way the soap cleaned in that it didn’t dry IT out at all. So, I figured, I’d ignore it for another 3 days straight, and then do the soap route again, but use a nice amount this time, since it didn’t’ seem to be drying or stripping.
By the way, it must be said, that I have, like 2 inches of roots at this point. Because baking soda strips hair colour, and I didn’t wanna recolour while I’m actively dumping soda on my hair, and I had this grand plan that in two-three weeks, I’d be washing with nothing but water, and enjoying beautiful, full, shiny, bouncy, cavewoman hair. Yeah well.
I'm going to post some pictures here, but I am not proud of any of them. Please don't copy and use them in your children's science projects as "disgustig exhibit A".
So, I went about my business Saturday, slightly greasy looking. On Sunday it looked pretty clumpy. It doesn’t smell, and otherwise behaves like clean hair, so I could slum it with a scarf today, but I do have a job in the ‘outside, people world’. And the outside people world frowns upon greasy looking chicks. But I didn’t want to wash it just yet. Oh, what to do.
I remembered somebody SOMEWHERE talking about blending up oatmeal for a “dry shampoo” of sorts. Apparently, at this point, I am the sort of desperate that will follow any type of hair advice that I may have seen on internet, or that came to me in a vinegar fume induced vision.
So I briefly consult with Google, get a thumbs up, and spend some time in the kitchen blending up Jesse’s oatmeal.
Let me tell you, when you read online that you can brush it out, it is a dirty, dirty lie. You will have a head full of oatmeal.
(I spared you the r e a l l y clumpy, stringy, pre-oatmeal picture)
Pros:
IT got ungreasy, soft, and full.
Cons:
I was really nervous taking a shower afterwards, picturing all this remaining oatmeal getting caked in my hair as soon as it got a whiff of H2O.
And, in case you’re wondering, no, I didn’t dump in oatmeal, shake my head out, and expected it all to fall out. I put it in. Rubbed it around. I’m thinking about posting a picture, but I kinda think this kind of dirty needs to be kept off the internet. And then I brushed. And combed. And brushed. And cleaned brushes, and cleaned combs, and brushed again. Over the shower. But then I had to clean the shower, cause there was all this dirty hairy oatmeal in it. So, then I just went outside. Completely freaking it out that it didn’t completely stop raining, so I’d have oatmeal in it’s breakfast -dish state in my hair.
Jesse came outside under the pretense of feeling bad for me and keeping me company, but, really, he wanted to pretend he was me and ask me a hundred questions, all of which were different at first sound, but really every one of them boiled down to: “What on earth would make you think it’s OK to put oatmeal in your hair”. I told him that Aveeno makes oatmeal shampoos, which is why I chose oatmeal over corn starch. Plus, I got to play with a blender. Plus, I figured, since I couldn’t grind up oatmeal super fine – the slightly largish flakes would make their way down via gravity. Well. I was wrong. There was oatmeal in my hair. Correction; there IS oatmeal in my hair.
Jesse’s giggling fits aside, and my ruined combs (3 of them) aside, my hair is degreased. And doesn’t feel waxy. And presentable enough to come into work. So there. Trudging on till Tuesday, when I’ll be giving the soap bar thing another try. Of course, it's a rainy week in SoCal, so I'm completely paranoid that I'll be walking outside and all of a sudden have strings of oatmeal runnign down my neck and face. Sigh. Shudder.
Breakfast Gone Wrong:
So, I washed IT (IT=hair)Friday night. A day ahead of wash schedule, cause I like to live on the edge and it was really hurting for a washing. I wanted to try on wedding dresses Saturday, and you can't feel like a princess with what I got going on upstairs. Jill at Bluebonnet Trails sent me a test chunk of mild soap she’s got, to hold me over till she makes a batch of shampoo bars. It's made with cammomille, coconut oils, lemon and lime oil, and sodium hydroxide (neutralized lye). I wasn’t sure about this sodium hydroxide business – so I only used a little bit, lest it strip my hair like a shampoo. It didn’t. It foamed nicely, just a little, and felt clean. I scrubbed. It felt clean. But there was still that ‘waxy’ feeling, like when I didn't use enough baking soda that one time. So gross. I'm considering burning my towels.
I like the way the soap cleaned in that it didn’t dry IT out at all. So, I figured, I’d ignore it for another 3 days straight, and then do the soap route again, but use a nice amount this time, since it didn’t’ seem to be drying or stripping.
By the way, it must be said, that I have, like 2 inches of roots at this point. Because baking soda strips hair colour, and I didn’t wanna recolour while I’m actively dumping soda on my hair, and I had this grand plan that in two-three weeks, I’d be washing with nothing but water, and enjoying beautiful, full, shiny, bouncy, cavewoman hair. Yeah well.
I'm going to post some pictures here, but I am not proud of any of them. Please don't copy and use them in your children's science projects as "disgustig exhibit A".
So, I went about my business Saturday, slightly greasy looking. On Sunday it looked pretty clumpy. It doesn’t smell, and otherwise behaves like clean hair, so I could slum it with a scarf today, but I do have a job in the ‘outside, people world’. And the outside people world frowns upon greasy looking chicks. But I didn’t want to wash it just yet. Oh, what to do.
I remembered somebody SOMEWHERE talking about blending up oatmeal for a “dry shampoo” of sorts. Apparently, at this point, I am the sort of desperate that will follow any type of hair advice that I may have seen on internet, or that came to me in a vinegar fume induced vision.
So I briefly consult with Google, get a thumbs up, and spend some time in the kitchen blending up Jesse’s oatmeal.
Let me tell you, when you read online that you can brush it out, it is a dirty, dirty lie. You will have a head full of oatmeal.
(I spared you the r e a l l y clumpy, stringy, pre-oatmeal picture)
Pros:
IT got ungreasy, soft, and full.
Cons:
I was really nervous taking a shower afterwards, picturing all this remaining oatmeal getting caked in my hair as soon as it got a whiff of H2O.
And, in case you’re wondering, no, I didn’t dump in oatmeal, shake my head out, and expected it all to fall out. I put it in. Rubbed it around. I’m thinking about posting a picture, but I kinda think this kind of dirty needs to be kept off the internet. And then I brushed. And combed. And brushed. And cleaned brushes, and cleaned combs, and brushed again. Over the shower. But then I had to clean the shower, cause there was all this dirty hairy oatmeal in it. So, then I just went outside. Completely freaking it out that it didn’t completely stop raining, so I’d have oatmeal in it’s breakfast -dish state in my hair.
Jesse came outside under the pretense of feeling bad for me and keeping me company, but, really, he wanted to pretend he was me and ask me a hundred questions, all of which were different at first sound, but really every one of them boiled down to: “What on earth would make you think it’s OK to put oatmeal in your hair”. I told him that Aveeno makes oatmeal shampoos, which is why I chose oatmeal over corn starch. Plus, I got to play with a blender. Plus, I figured, since I couldn’t grind up oatmeal super fine – the slightly largish flakes would make their way down via gravity. Well. I was wrong. There was oatmeal in my hair. Correction; there IS oatmeal in my hair.
Jesse’s giggling fits aside, and my ruined combs (3 of them) aside, my hair is degreased. And doesn’t feel waxy. And presentable enough to come into work. So there. Trudging on till Tuesday, when I’ll be giving the soap bar thing another try. Of course, it's a rainy week in SoCal, so I'm completely paranoid that I'll be walking outside and all of a sudden have strings of oatmeal runnign down my neck and face. Sigh. Shudder.
9.1.10
Almost Ancient Awesome Dumpstered Board Games
I really wanted to cut my hair today, to, may be, cut down on atrociousness that is ..it. So we headed out of the house and got massively derailed by an awesome garage sale sign.
"Your treasure awaits you"?? How could we not. Jesse did some characteristic abrupt maneuvering (where I point to a sign and squeal, "You gotta turn!!" and he tries his best to spare nearby vehicles, and sidewalk vegetation as he whips around the 6000lb truck, in the direction an arrow is pointing. He really does a fantastic job, I have repeatedly seen him block all types of lane traffic excecuting awkward and often illegal turns. One time, he whipped the truck around on a two lane 55mph country highway, so I could go get some $4 Danish Modern side tables (stil not refinsihed, BTW) in a farm yard sale. We must have been the ONLY people who came by who did not drive a tractor and live across the hayfield. It's one of the million things he does that makes me feel like he was just meant for me.
So. We got there just as she was ready to pack up.
I always think, it'd be neat to get up early and find all the cool stuff before other people get there, but that would require actually getting up. Neither Jesse nor I are ever that commited to finding cool random stuff for 50 cents. Plus, Jesse has sort of forbid anything else to come into the house, so it's probably for the best.
Anywhere, there on her lawn was the most brilliant collection of board games. They were old, and with all their pieces, and pretty, and.. Jesse went to find the nearest ATM, cause I wasn't leaving the lawn without some loot. $7.50 later, we skipped away proud owners of 8 games. Well, 5 games, two puzzles, and one Barrel Full of Monkeys. (I did most of the skipping, Jesse was busy picturing where in hell exactly I was going to put 8 new games, and if it would displace any of his DVD's/Wii/etc)
They are so pretty. And in perfect condition. One of them, called Aggravation, I want to try sell on Ebay. (Remember, how I said, it would be awesome to one day find awesome things ot sell on Ebay, but first I'd have to actually sell soomething on Ebay? Well I did! So I can!) If it doesn't sell, I will figure out how and play with it.
In addition to the Aggravation game, straight from the 1970's, I got:
Scrabble "Crossword Cubes:, 1968
Scour Four, 1968
Boggle, the 4 letter size, 1976
They are in an amazing condition, with all the pieces, cards, instructions. I don't know how that's even possible. It ain't in my house. I have no idea where my house keys are at this very moment. Or my phone. Board game instructions are the sort of things you find years later, afer you have already made up your own rules. It's easier to win that way, anyway. Especially when playing small children they are gullible critters. It's shameful, I know. (The losing things part) And it's just wildly impressive to me when somebody's been able to keep ALL 16 marbles of a game for 40 years. I'll try to keep the awesomeness going.
There was also a Taboo game. Which I keep meaning to get, so now I did. The fact that it's from the 70's makes it that much cooler. I can't wait to read through the cards - I'm guessing "Brad Pitt" and "Monica Lewinski" weren't on the radar yet. I don't do too well with modern Taboo game, so this might be my key to success.
The 'Drive you Nuts' puzzle is from 1968, and it *has* driven me nuts. Like very primitive sudoku. But worse. Although, I'm only speculating, I never gave Sudoku a chance. But it's kicking my ass, so it must be worse.
I can't really explain the Barrel of Monkeys. It seemed like a good idea? I mean. They hook together. If I ever break a body part again and spend some time confined to a small space and floating on painkillers, I would definately want a Barrel of Monkeys in the space.
There is also (unpictured) a small doggy puzzle also from the 60's.
I promised Jesse that I would hand his ass to him in nearly everyone of those games, and show him what's up with putting together puzzles. He's tingling with anticipation, I'm sure.
The hair, by the way, never got cut. I'm using harsh (and so far ineffecive) tactics, like pretending I don't know the hair, ignoring the hair, and using a scarf to cover the hair. It is doing unspeakable things to me and needs to be told. (Or washed with some nice foamy detergenty shampoo, but I can't give in this easy. It's only 7 days in. I've read the other blogs and I'll feel like a pansy if I quit so early on)
"Your treasure awaits you"?? How could we not. Jesse did some characteristic abrupt maneuvering (where I point to a sign and squeal, "You gotta turn!!" and he tries his best to spare nearby vehicles, and sidewalk vegetation as he whips around the 6000lb truck, in the direction an arrow is pointing. He really does a fantastic job, I have repeatedly seen him block all types of lane traffic excecuting awkward and often illegal turns. One time, he whipped the truck around on a two lane 55mph country highway, so I could go get some $4 Danish Modern side tables (stil not refinsihed, BTW) in a farm yard sale. We must have been the ONLY people who came by who did not drive a tractor and live across the hayfield. It's one of the million things he does that makes me feel like he was just meant for me.
So. We got there just as she was ready to pack up. I always think, it'd be neat to get up early and find all the cool stuff before other people get there, but that would require actually getting up. Neither Jesse nor I are ever that commited to finding cool random stuff for 50 cents. Plus, Jesse has sort of forbid anything else to come into the house, so it's probably for the best.
Anywhere, there on her lawn was the most brilliant collection of board games. They were old, and with all their pieces, and pretty, and.. Jesse went to find the nearest ATM, cause I wasn't leaving the lawn without some loot. $7.50 later, we skipped away proud owners of 8 games. Well, 5 games, two puzzles, and one Barrel Full of Monkeys. (I did most of the skipping, Jesse was busy picturing where in hell exactly I was going to put 8 new games, and if it would displace any of his DVD's/Wii/etc)
They are so pretty. And in perfect condition. One of them, called Aggravation, I want to try sell on Ebay. (Remember, how I said, it would be awesome to one day find awesome things ot sell on Ebay, but first I'd have to actually sell soomething on Ebay? Well I did! So I can!) If it doesn't sell, I will figure out how and play with it.
In addition to the Aggravation game, straight from the 1970's, I got:
Scrabble "Crossword Cubes:, 1968
Scour Four, 1968
Boggle, the 4 letter size, 1976
They are in an amazing condition, with all the pieces, cards, instructions. I don't know how that's even possible. It ain't in my house. I have no idea where my house keys are at this very moment. Or my phone. Board game instructions are the sort of things you find years later, afer you have already made up your own rules. It's easier to win that way, anyway. Especially when playing small children they are gullible critters. It's shameful, I know. (The losing things part) And it's just wildly impressive to me when somebody's been able to keep ALL 16 marbles of a game for 40 years. I'll try to keep the awesomeness going.
There was also a Taboo game. Which I keep meaning to get, so now I did. The fact that it's from the 70's makes it that much cooler. I can't wait to read through the cards - I'm guessing "Brad Pitt" and "Monica Lewinski" weren't on the radar yet. I don't do too well with modern Taboo game, so this might be my key to success.
The 'Drive you Nuts' puzzle is from 1968, and it *has* driven me nuts. Like very primitive sudoku. But worse. Although, I'm only speculating, I never gave Sudoku a chance. But it's kicking my ass, so it must be worse.
I can't really explain the Barrel of Monkeys. It seemed like a good idea? I mean. They hook together. If I ever break a body part again and spend some time confined to a small space and floating on painkillers, I would definately want a Barrel of Monkeys in the space.
There is also (unpictured) a small doggy puzzle also from the 60's.
I promised Jesse that I would hand his ass to him in nearly everyone of those games, and show him what's up with putting together puzzles. He's tingling with anticipation, I'm sure.
The hair, by the way, never got cut. I'm using harsh (and so far ineffecive) tactics, like pretending I don't know the hair, ignoring the hair, and using a scarf to cover the hair. It is doing unspeakable things to me and needs to be told. (Or washed with some nice foamy detergenty shampoo, but I can't give in this easy. It's only 7 days in. I've read the other blogs and I'll feel like a pansy if I quit so early on)
29.12.09
A Good Day at the Goodwill.
I recently sold on Ebay few skirts I really like but were sizes 2. Today, at a Goodwill by my work, where Jesse graciously lets me spend lunch sometimes, I found:
Ann Taylor Loft skirt, white with yellow flower awesomeness, size 6.
Also, not pictured, is Gap black silk skirt, size 4. It's pretty awesome as well.
A child’s wetsuit. We don’t have a child. But we have children visiting, and this past weekend, we tried to put an 8 year old into my wetsuit. No good. It was $2, and Jesse voted yes. We already have 4 wetsuits. I spent near $400 on my super duper, may as well be fur lined 4mm neoprene awesomeness, so $2 seemed like an awesome deal. It’s a size 6, and I can’t wait for Marissa and/or Anastasia to try it on!
A Dean Koontz book I don’t already have. I have a bit of a collection going, thanks to Jesse’s diligent checking of the book shelves.
There were also things I didn’t get to have. Like, the Z Gallery crystal candleholders. They are a little too over the top for me, but I wanted them a little as I saw someone else check out with them.
There was also this oil lamp. I mean, yes, it’s a little ugly, and sort of looks like they're sort of set in a pile of poop. But, I could just feel working with Sculpey clay, and baking a new base for it. Lillies, may be? And it would be awesome. But Jesse reminded me that I have a couple years worth of low priority projects like that one. Like, umm, those Danish Modern Tables I’m supposed to refinish? Or, may be, the sunflowers I was going to paint.. Or, the dress with the giant pockets that I cut out, but have yet to sew. Sigh. No Sculpey for me.
Or this teapot. I kinda like it. But I like how my old ugly cast iron one keeps tea warm throughout the evening. It's a hard, picking between practical and pretty..
And then. There was. This chair. If I had a lair.. This is exactly the kind of chair I would see my guests in. Missing a troll to fan my feet and someone to feed me peeled grapes.. Off white velvet looking deal with flowers. Jesse gets really nervous when I gawk at things like this, because he can never figure out if I'm genuinely appalled that somebody at some point in life actually had this. Inside. Their. Home. Or if if I'm trying to figure out if I have any use/space for it.
Ann Taylor Loft skirt, white with yellow flower awesomeness, size 6.
Also, not pictured, is Gap black silk skirt, size 4. It's pretty awesome as well.
A child’s wetsuit. We don’t have a child. But we have children visiting, and this past weekend, we tried to put an 8 year old into my wetsuit. No good. It was $2, and Jesse voted yes. We already have 4 wetsuits. I spent near $400 on my super duper, may as well be fur lined 4mm neoprene awesomeness, so $2 seemed like an awesome deal. It’s a size 6, and I can’t wait for Marissa and/or Anastasia to try it on!A Dean Koontz book I don’t already have. I have a bit of a collection going, thanks to Jesse’s diligent checking of the book shelves.
There were also things I didn’t get to have. Like, the Z Gallery crystal candleholders. They are a little too over the top for me, but I wanted them a little as I saw someone else check out with them.
There was also this oil lamp. I mean, yes, it’s a little ugly, and sort of looks like they're sort of set in a pile of poop. But, I could just feel working with Sculpey clay, and baking a new base for it. Lillies, may be? And it would be awesome. But Jesse reminded me that I have a couple years worth of low priority projects like that one. Like, umm, those Danish Modern Tables I’m supposed to refinish? Or, may be, the sunflowers I was going to paint.. Or, the dress with the giant pockets that I cut out, but have yet to sew. Sigh. No Sculpey for me.
Or this teapot. I kinda like it. But I like how my old ugly cast iron one keeps tea warm throughout the evening. It's a hard, picking between practical and pretty..
And then. There was. This chair. If I had a lair.. This is exactly the kind of chair I would see my guests in. Missing a troll to fan my feet and someone to feed me peeled grapes.. Off white velvet looking deal with flowers. Jesse gets really nervous when I gawk at things like this, because he can never figure out if I'm genuinely appalled that somebody at some point in life actually had this. Inside. Their. Home. Or if if I'm trying to figure out if I have any use/space for it.
18.12.09
Sold! EBay Skirts
Every one of the four I posted. Each went for 3 to 8 dollars. All in all, I made about $20. I am thrilled. I posted up pictures, wrote a note about how I’m too fat for them, and people bid, repeatedly, and bought my stuff. Somebody wanted my old stuff! Usually, it is I who gets other people’s stuff. My universe has come a full circle, and I. Am. Pleased.
I would love to make a hobby of finding cool things at yard sales and sell them on Ebay. The only snag in that plan, is that, inadvertently, I want to keep cool stuff I find.
I would love to make a hobby of finding cool things at yard sales and sell them on Ebay. The only snag in that plan, is that, inadvertently, I want to keep cool stuff I find.
22.11.09
Seen Out and About
At a weird “estate sale”,.. (ones where stuff looks old and ratty and in someone's driveway, yet priced at thousands).. this spectacular $1900 couch.
Had it been $30, I’d have dragged it home, where Jesse would have to build a loft to support any more “pieces” . Luckily, it was $1870 over our budget.
It is my personal opinion, that if you sell $2000 couches, you should put them in a setting other than your ratty driveway, but the guy seemed pretty excited about his couch. It was "an investment piece", and "would probably sell for $9,000 in an intique shop down the street. You never know, it IS Orange County, I guess. I just don't know how many people cruise around yard sales with $1900 in pocket.
Still, I am guessing stripped to dark walnut and upholstered in something less .. blue and flowery, it would be awesome.
- Ceramic parrots? Swinging on my porch? Bright colors and everything? Yes, please! I had talked the guy down to 5$ a parrot, but he wanted me to buy all, and I really thought that 4th was hideous.
It would be cool to paint them ivory, and have black stars/flowers/swirls painted all over. But Jesse seemed to think they would then lose their “parrotness”. Parrots fail.
It’s probably for the best, our 2nd floor deck isn’t nearly big enough to accommodate 4 big hanging parrots, without knocking into them incessantly. Jesse suggested taking the 4th one and using it as target, like those clay pigeons, but I don't have the heart to blow up something brightly painted, even if it is hideous.
- I did find some awesome Paul Frank shoelaces, and ALMOST got a pair of flippers. Then Jesse informed me I can get flippers in a myriad of colours that aren’t orange and blue, so I skipped away with visions of glittery purple pink flippers. Watch out, SoCal beaches.
- A book on survival. I’m pretty sure I can survive just fine anywhere, but I’ve seen Jesse pick through his “white only” chicken meat at Flame Broiler. I’m fairly certain eating tree bark is not a concept he’s on board with, so he needs all the help he can get.
- An old book on the psychology of male/female conversation..having. I intend to read it, and analyze everything Jesse says thoroughly for a couple weeks, until he either has a breakdown, or the fun runs out.
- A first edition of Tom Sawyer. It’s beautiful, old, and has few coloured pictures. I have been meaning to pick up a copy at Barnes and Noble, as soon as Jesse has finished Huckberry Finn. I’m convinced it’s imperative he reads all happy childhood classics to make up the giant black void he must be suffering (he hides it really well).
Other things worthy of note:
Clay fish. After the parrot fiasco, I was certain I need to get them, paint them ivory and black, write “here, fishy fishy” and hang on a bathroom wall.
They sold before I went back to them, but above is my nostalgic concept drawing.. Drat.
Various chairs.
This ceramic life size statue/lamp.
I mean, if you were going to go completely over the top, why not do it with crystal ball grapes, lights, and a lady wearing all types of bright foldy ceramic clothing? $449.
- Black leather gloves. $2 They are super thin. I'm thinking, cat skin? I shall cut off the fingers, and wear them with sundresses that my tattooed forearm otherwise prevents wearing at work. I've rectified it in the past on super hot days by Ace bandages and a cut off tube sock (striped yellow and green, even) and I am thinking this might be an upgrade. Hopefully, He Who Signs the Paychecks will agree, or I'll have to find other uses. They'll likely still have to do with sundresses and excersizing individuality. Ha.
Total weekend shopping cost – about ~$7, plus gas. AND, I wore my weight vest everywhere, so I imagine I burned 80,000 calories hopping in and out of the truck. WIN!
Had it been $30, I’d have dragged it home, where Jesse would have to build a loft to support any more “pieces” . Luckily, it was $1870 over our budget.
It is my personal opinion, that if you sell $2000 couches, you should put them in a setting other than your ratty driveway, but the guy seemed pretty excited about his couch. It was "an investment piece", and "would probably sell for $9,000 in an intique shop down the street. You never know, it IS Orange County, I guess. I just don't know how many people cruise around yard sales with $1900 in pocket.
Still, I am guessing stripped to dark walnut and upholstered in something less .. blue and flowery, it would be awesome.
- Ceramic parrots? Swinging on my porch? Bright colors and everything? Yes, please! I had talked the guy down to 5$ a parrot, but he wanted me to buy all, and I really thought that 4th was hideous.
It would be cool to paint them ivory, and have black stars/flowers/swirls painted all over. But Jesse seemed to think they would then lose their “parrotness”. Parrots fail.
It’s probably for the best, our 2nd floor deck isn’t nearly big enough to accommodate 4 big hanging parrots, without knocking into them incessantly. Jesse suggested taking the 4th one and using it as target, like those clay pigeons, but I don't have the heart to blow up something brightly painted, even if it is hideous.
- I did find some awesome Paul Frank shoelaces, and ALMOST got a pair of flippers. Then Jesse informed me I can get flippers in a myriad of colours that aren’t orange and blue, so I skipped away with visions of glittery purple pink flippers. Watch out, SoCal beaches.
- A book on survival. I’m pretty sure I can survive just fine anywhere, but I’ve seen Jesse pick through his “white only” chicken meat at Flame Broiler. I’m fairly certain eating tree bark is not a concept he’s on board with, so he needs all the help he can get.
- An old book on the psychology of male/female conversation..having. I intend to read it, and analyze everything Jesse says thoroughly for a couple weeks, until he either has a breakdown, or the fun runs out.
- A first edition of Tom Sawyer. It’s beautiful, old, and has few coloured pictures. I have been meaning to pick up a copy at Barnes and Noble, as soon as Jesse has finished Huckberry Finn. I’m convinced it’s imperative he reads all happy childhood classics to make up the giant black void he must be suffering (he hides it really well).
Other things worthy of note:
Clay fish. After the parrot fiasco, I was certain I need to get them, paint them ivory and black, write “here, fishy fishy” and hang on a bathroom wall.
They sold before I went back to them, but above is my nostalgic concept drawing.. Drat.
Various chairs.
This ceramic life size statue/lamp.
I mean, if you were going to go completely over the top, why not do it with crystal ball grapes, lights, and a lady wearing all types of bright foldy ceramic clothing? $449.
- Black leather gloves. $2 They are super thin. I'm thinking, cat skin? I shall cut off the fingers, and wear them with sundresses that my tattooed forearm otherwise prevents wearing at work. I've rectified it in the past on super hot days by Ace bandages and a cut off tube sock (striped yellow and green, even) and I am thinking this might be an upgrade. Hopefully, He Who Signs the Paychecks will agree, or I'll have to find other uses. They'll likely still have to do with sundresses and excersizing individuality. Ha.
Total weekend shopping cost – about ~$7, plus gas. AND, I wore my weight vest everywhere, so I imagine I burned 80,000 calories hopping in and out of the truck. WIN!
16.11.09
Weekend Camping - Gorman
We were SUPPOSED to go in a cruise, four girls, but somehow everything unraveled and we couldn’t go. So, instead Heather and I planned a girls camping trip at Gorman, California – Hungry Valley.
It was a COLD valley this weekend. We stocked up on some fabulous hats at the local grocery shop. Do you ever wonder WHO BUYS clothes at places like CVS, or Gas Stations?
- Chicks who leave their house to camp in 40’F high weather with no hats. 5.99 ain’t a bad deal to save our ears from falling off. We spotted a neighbor camper getting 3 rolled up blankets at the same shop, so at least we were more prepared than that guy.
Jesse has spoiled me insanely, and took over all the loading/unloading. His truck tailgate is about 4 feet in the air, depending on how you park it, as opposed to my one bike trailer being 6” off the ground, regardless of its parking situation. The point of all this is that I AM SORE. Like, my palms, are sore. And that's considering he did ALL the prep/pack work for me. All I had to do was wake up and start driving.
He has taken over keeping track of where I put stuff. Phone? Camera? I spent half my time frantically looking for my truck key. Flashlight? Forks? I generally just walk around, setting stuff down, and he enables my behavior my constantly making a note of where stuff is, or by picking it up and moving to a reasonable spot. It only hit me during this camping trip, it is SO tiring to run around and constantly look for various objects.
Nonetheless, it was pretty awesome. We pulled up, Heather jumped on the bike, let off the clutch too abruptly, the bike promptly threw her down and landed on her. She was a good sport, got up, and asked how to have that NOT happen again. And then it didn’t. We got her putting around campground, not even stalling, and shifting into 2nd. I was super pleased, especially since she informed me when we got there that she doesn’t know how to drive a stick shift and it was a “nightmare trying to learn”
Then we went introduced ourselves to the campers next to us, and asked them to watch our bikes while we went visit town for ice, hats, gloves, and the antique shop. It was risky, but the bikes were there when we got back, although they admitted considering Craigslisting them. I probably would not recommend doing this on regular basis, if at all. Seems like a stellar way to lose a motorcycle or two.
The antique mall had an ENTIRE SET of shelves of clown figurines. Clowns are generally creepy, and a room full of them is frightening. (But this one was cute.)
It was a really sketchy, small, turn off the main highway to the one street town (Frazier Park?), with small alley-like street shooting off to the sides, all dead- ending within a block or two. There was a yard sale sign, and oddly, all yards in the town looked like a perpetual yard sale. I saw a table in the alley. Or was it a front street? It was next to a rusty boat, a more rusty RV, and a pile of wood. It had stuff on top of it. It had beautiful, although cracked claw-holding ball feet. I imagined Jesse losing his mind, if I brought it home..
Was it trash? I hope so, cause there it was, strapped in the bed of my truck. I walked about the open garage and by windows, but no one seemed interested in coming out. I took a couple branches of firewood, but then stopped, it was too neatly stacked to be assumed garbage. Which made me wonder if I have a freshly stolen table in my truck.
In a related story, I learned Heather and I can never rob banks as a team. Between my tying down the table with straps and prancing around the truck bed, the obnoxious loud idling diesel, and Heather playing on her Iphone in front seat, we screamed amateurs. Never mind the Uturns, and more loud idling, (with table already secured and visible in the back) as I was wondering if we ought take the firewood. We decided not, and regretted it later that night.
Team Log - 1; Team Chick Campers - 0:
We set up a fire using unreasonable amounts of spare gasoline I carry with me, and spent a lot of time trying to split a log. And mourning the alley-possibly-trash-wood we didn't get.
Eventually, we relocated to the big group of campers. They heard our inadequate wood splitting (Heather and I took turns to wear it down), and came rescued the log, and we brought our remaining wood, smore supplies, and our rum drinks to their fire. They were a nice group with the Infamous Motorcycle Club from Long Beach, funny, and with some awesome warm chicken and corn on the grill. (I didn’t have to step away from the fire and make dinner – WIN!)
Climbing into the truck was a little rough. I have camped before on the ground, without a mat even, so my upgrade of a blow up mattress in truck bed is just unbelievably badass and awesome to me. Heather, on the other hand was comparing it to her bed. Not so badass or awesome. I had asked the neighbors if they were chaining up their bikes, and it turned out they camped with “so many guns, its stupid”.
I chained my bikes, just in case.. but unloaded the gun Jesse sent me with. I figured the 6-12 armed gentlemen around us probably had enough ammo to take care of anything that rattled the bikes, so there would be no use for my panicky shooting in the air. The tent roof got to live another camping trip, hole-less.
In the morning, I had a dream about laughing dogs. Turns out, there were coyotes, and Heather slipped out of the sleeping bag (letting in cold, the wench!) and out of the tent, to go take pictures.
I was horrified. I have since been notified that the vicious things in Lion King are hyenas, and not coyotes, so there went my strongest argument against them, but still, the thing looked like it eats people’s faces clean off. A fox, apparently, had also frolicked around camp during the night, and peed by some tents. No doubt, marking them for the next nighttime patrol and “distribute rabies” site. Had I heard something pee around MY tent, the tent roof would have fared much worse. In addition to all this, the coyote was seen around the area I had been the night before, (illegally, as it turns out) picking firewood. Probably eyeballing my face for his dinner.
I went for a ride with the boys. Heather opted out, choosing to putt around camp again, but not before she tried the neighbors’ crf150, and accidentally wheelied it. Oh, to have a picture.. To her credit, she hung on till the front wheel came down.
We took Backbone Trail, and all 3 bikes crashed promptly in the sandy uphill. I crashed the closest to the top, though, so I felt pretty good about it. A couple of guys had only ridden street, and weren’t super comfortable on dirt bikes. For ONCE, I wasn’t the last one in the group, and even among guys! I felt all types of accomplished. Ha. Backbone Trail is sadly completely torn up.
I'm bummed we didn't get any pictures of Heather riding, so we'll have to do it again. It was also her very fist time camping, and she survived and may even do it again. Another city dweller converted. Muahahaha.
To follow: a series of pretty pictures of Southern California Landscape.
It was a COLD valley this weekend. We stocked up on some fabulous hats at the local grocery shop. Do you ever wonder WHO BUYS clothes at places like CVS, or Gas Stations? - Chicks who leave their house to camp in 40’F high weather with no hats. 5.99 ain’t a bad deal to save our ears from falling off. We spotted a neighbor camper getting 3 rolled up blankets at the same shop, so at least we were more prepared than that guy.
Jesse has spoiled me insanely, and took over all the loading/unloading. His truck tailgate is about 4 feet in the air, depending on how you park it, as opposed to my one bike trailer being 6” off the ground, regardless of its parking situation. The point of all this is that I AM SORE. Like, my palms, are sore. And that's considering he did ALL the prep/pack work for me. All I had to do was wake up and start driving.
He has taken over keeping track of where I put stuff. Phone? Camera? I spent half my time frantically looking for my truck key. Flashlight? Forks? I generally just walk around, setting stuff down, and he enables my behavior my constantly making a note of where stuff is, or by picking it up and moving to a reasonable spot. It only hit me during this camping trip, it is SO tiring to run around and constantly look for various objects.
Nonetheless, it was pretty awesome. We pulled up, Heather jumped on the bike, let off the clutch too abruptly, the bike promptly threw her down and landed on her. She was a good sport, got up, and asked how to have that NOT happen again. And then it didn’t. We got her putting around campground, not even stalling, and shifting into 2nd. I was super pleased, especially since she informed me when we got there that she doesn’t know how to drive a stick shift and it was a “nightmare trying to learn”
Then we went introduced ourselves to the campers next to us, and asked them to watch our bikes while we went visit town for ice, hats, gloves, and the antique shop. It was risky, but the bikes were there when we got back, although they admitted considering Craigslisting them. I probably would not recommend doing this on regular basis, if at all. Seems like a stellar way to lose a motorcycle or two. The antique mall had an ENTIRE SET of shelves of clown figurines. Clowns are generally creepy, and a room full of them is frightening. (But this one was cute.) It was a really sketchy, small, turn off the main highway to the one street town (Frazier Park?), with small alley-like street shooting off to the sides, all dead- ending within a block or two. There was a yard sale sign, and oddly, all yards in the town looked like a perpetual yard sale. I saw a table in the alley. Or was it a front street? It was next to a rusty boat, a more rusty RV, and a pile of wood. It had stuff on top of it. It had beautiful, although cracked claw-holding ball feet. I imagined Jesse losing his mind, if I brought it home..
Was it trash? I hope so, cause there it was, strapped in the bed of my truck. I walked about the open garage and by windows, but no one seemed interested in coming out. I took a couple branches of firewood, but then stopped, it was too neatly stacked to be assumed garbage. Which made me wonder if I have a freshly stolen table in my truck.
In a related story, I learned Heather and I can never rob banks as a team. Between my tying down the table with straps and prancing around the truck bed, the obnoxious loud idling diesel, and Heather playing on her Iphone in front seat, we screamed amateurs. Never mind the Uturns, and more loud idling, (with table already secured and visible in the back) as I was wondering if we ought take the firewood. We decided not, and regretted it later that night. Team Log - 1; Team Chick Campers - 0:
We set up a fire using unreasonable amounts of spare gasoline I carry with me, and spent a lot of time trying to split a log. And mourning the alley-possibly-trash-wood we didn't get.Eventually, we relocated to the big group of campers. They heard our inadequate wood splitting (Heather and I took turns to wear it down), and came rescued the log, and we brought our remaining wood, smore supplies, and our rum drinks to their fire. They were a nice group with the Infamous Motorcycle Club from Long Beach, funny, and with some awesome warm chicken and corn on the grill. (I didn’t have to step away from the fire and make dinner – WIN!)Climbing into the truck was a little rough. I have camped before on the ground, without a mat even, so my upgrade of a blow up mattress in truck bed is just unbelievably badass and awesome to me. Heather, on the other hand was comparing it to her bed. Not so badass or awesome. I had asked the neighbors if they were chaining up their bikes, and it turned out they camped with “so many guns, its stupid”.
I chained my bikes, just in case.. but unloaded the gun Jesse sent me with. I figured the 6-12 armed gentlemen around us probably had enough ammo to take care of anything that rattled the bikes, so there would be no use for my panicky shooting in the air. The tent roof got to live another camping trip, hole-less. In the morning, I had a dream about laughing dogs. Turns out, there were coyotes, and Heather slipped out of the sleeping bag (letting in cold, the wench!) and out of the tent, to go take pictures.
I was horrified. I have since been notified that the vicious things in Lion King are hyenas, and not coyotes, so there went my strongest argument against them, but still, the thing looked like it eats people’s faces clean off. A fox, apparently, had also frolicked around camp during the night, and peed by some tents. No doubt, marking them for the next nighttime patrol and “distribute rabies” site. Had I heard something pee around MY tent, the tent roof would have fared much worse. In addition to all this, the coyote was seen around the area I had been the night before, (illegally, as it turns out) picking firewood. Probably eyeballing my face for his dinner.
I went for a ride with the boys. Heather opted out, choosing to putt around camp again, but not before she tried the neighbors’ crf150, and accidentally wheelied it. Oh, to have a picture.. To her credit, she hung on till the front wheel came down.
We took Backbone Trail, and all 3 bikes crashed promptly in the sandy uphill. I crashed the closest to the top, though, so I felt pretty good about it. A couple of guys had only ridden street, and weren’t super comfortable on dirt bikes. For ONCE, I wasn’t the last one in the group, and even among guys! I felt all types of accomplished. Ha. Backbone Trail is sadly completely torn up.
I'm bummed we didn't get any pictures of Heather riding, so we'll have to do it again. It was also her very fist time camping, and she survived and may even do it again. Another city dweller converted. Muahahaha.
To follow: a series of pretty pictures of Southern California Landscape.
12.11.09
Losing Weight - Equipment
I try to do a night of ellipticalling with my friend. It is usually ruined by the following beers calorie-wise, but at least the heart rate goes up for a while. The elliptical is evil. I can treadmil walk/jog/jalk for a while but 2 minutes on elliptical make me want to cry. This must mean it's good for me, so I like the idea of having it done.
I am a member of 24 Hour Fitness, but it is more of a financial benefit to them than a physical one to me. Its easy once you get there. But getting there.. They used to have fantastic Ab/Leg/Body Classes, the first two 30 mins and Body a full hour. They used to be packed. They have discontinued them, and instead there's some silly 15 minute ab stint. I am unimpressed. Anyway, I like ellipticalling with a friend better - makes the time seem shorter if we babble away about purses, work, and people who irritate us.
I also 'dumpstered' some things I thought would promote activity.
Thighmaster. $1 Garage sale in Pacifica. I wasn’t even sure what it was, but now I keep it under the desk at work. I *think* it’s working. I do reps when I’m bored instead of walking down to the vending machine.
Boxing gloves. Garage sale in Costa Mesa. Right after the Rogers-Emelianenko MMA fight, I decided I want to box and wrestle. Really, I just want to occasionally punch things. I went out and got myself an Affliction TShirt at Nordstrom Rack, to feel extra tough, and I am on the lookout for a boxing bag on Craigslist. Just today I found these in someone’s garage.
$8 and I can punch Jesse and the couch. Jesse says it’s nice to get punched with gloves as opposed to my pointy knuckled fists, so it works out. They also had little pads one might wear on their hands to deflect and absorb hits. Whatever that’s called. I may go back for those.
I’m already good at wrestling. I’m wiry and hyper like that. And my complete disregard for ‘manly bits’ makes Jesse nervous enough so I usually win (he's the only person I've had the chance to wrestle, but I'm thinking about raiding school yards and taking on 8 year old bullies as I get better). I also aspire to go introduce myself to 24 Hours' kickboxing class. I doubt it's as gratifying as punching something, but may be I can pick up some moves so I look less like a swimming gerbil when I do it.
The very first acquisition was my Weight Vest. It is awesome. The day I decided I wanted to get serious about working out, a guy at work was talking about his weight vest. I looked it up online, and, of course, it was JUST the thing I needed. Implementing it into your workouts does good things for your strength, endurance, work out intensity, etc.
It just so happens a lady online was selling one. Not just a "weight vest" but a women specific V-Max weight vest. It was the 30lb version, and, of course, I thought I needed the 45-50 lbs version, but would settle, because she was selling it relatively cheap. She wanted $100, she took $50, and it retails for ~$200, nifty sweat liner included. I was excited! I started out with 12lbs. I am now up to 15. It'll be a while before I add another bar in there (comes with removable 2.5 lb weight bars). So, I probably settled well. I wear it ellipticalling, and for fast walks. The idea is to work up to just under 20% of your healthy body weight. It is probably burning calories on my behalf, as I type this, slumped against my living room wall, that's how awesome that thing is.
I just went onto their site to get a photo, and their current slogan is:
Overweight? Lose it fast! How?
Put on a V-Max™ and walk 20 to 30 minutes a day.
Awesome.
BSN Atro Phex Supplements. They are marketed as a mood/energy/weight management system. I call them my crack pills, and really like them.
I won’t ever work up to the cracked out max dosage of 3 pills 3 times a day, but if I take one around 3 o’clock at work, I am still motivated to do active things after work. Froggy, but not jumpy, if that makes any sense. I don’t take them all the time, just on the days I feel especially slow, nappy, and unmotivated. If I take one as late as 4, I can still go to sleep peacefully by 11. Win.
I am 5'6" and a slender build. A couple months ago EVERYTHING, including my sweat pants, stopped fitting, I weighed in at 147. Cutting out a lot of carbs, and occasional ellipticalling/gymming took me to the current 137, and I'm shooting to be between 125 - 135 lbs. I could be there a lot faster if I was less lazy and more strict with the diet.. But I'm not. Ha. :D
It's also probably really vain and shallow but I am waiting to drop another 5 lbs before I do another take on Nora, the Duct Tape Scarecrow #2
I am a member of 24 Hour Fitness, but it is more of a financial benefit to them than a physical one to me. Its easy once you get there. But getting there.. They used to have fantastic Ab/Leg/Body Classes, the first two 30 mins and Body a full hour. They used to be packed. They have discontinued them, and instead there's some silly 15 minute ab stint. I am unimpressed. Anyway, I like ellipticalling with a friend better - makes the time seem shorter if we babble away about purses, work, and people who irritate us.
I also 'dumpstered' some things I thought would promote activity.
Thighmaster. $1 Garage sale in Pacifica. I wasn’t even sure what it was, but now I keep it under the desk at work. I *think* it’s working. I do reps when I’m bored instead of walking down to the vending machine.
Boxing gloves. Garage sale in Costa Mesa. Right after the Rogers-Emelianenko MMA fight, I decided I want to box and wrestle. Really, I just want to occasionally punch things. I went out and got myself an Affliction TShirt at Nordstrom Rack, to feel extra tough, and I am on the lookout for a boxing bag on Craigslist. Just today I found these in someone’s garage.
$8 and I can punch Jesse and the couch. Jesse says it’s nice to get punched with gloves as opposed to my pointy knuckled fists, so it works out. They also had little pads one might wear on their hands to deflect and absorb hits. Whatever that’s called. I may go back for those.
I’m already good at wrestling. I’m wiry and hyper like that. And my complete disregard for ‘manly bits’ makes Jesse nervous enough so I usually win (he's the only person I've had the chance to wrestle, but I'm thinking about raiding school yards and taking on 8 year old bullies as I get better). I also aspire to go introduce myself to 24 Hours' kickboxing class. I doubt it's as gratifying as punching something, but may be I can pick up some moves so I look less like a swimming gerbil when I do it.
The very first acquisition was my Weight Vest. It is awesome. The day I decided I wanted to get serious about working out, a guy at work was talking about his weight vest. I looked it up online, and, of course, it was JUST the thing I needed. Implementing it into your workouts does good things for your strength, endurance, work out intensity, etc.
It just so happens a lady online was selling one. Not just a "weight vest" but a women specific V-Max weight vest. It was the 30lb version, and, of course, I thought I needed the 45-50 lbs version, but would settle, because she was selling it relatively cheap. She wanted $100, she took $50, and it retails for ~$200, nifty sweat liner included. I was excited! I started out with 12lbs. I am now up to 15. It'll be a while before I add another bar in there (comes with removable 2.5 lb weight bars). So, I probably settled well. I wear it ellipticalling, and for fast walks. The idea is to work up to just under 20% of your healthy body weight. It is probably burning calories on my behalf, as I type this, slumped against my living room wall, that's how awesome that thing is.
I just went onto their site to get a photo, and their current slogan is:
Overweight? Lose it fast! How?
Put on a V-Max™ and walk 20 to 30 minutes a day.
Awesome.
BSN Atro Phex Supplements. They are marketed as a mood/energy/weight management system. I call them my crack pills, and really like them.
I won’t ever work up to the cracked out max dosage of 3 pills 3 times a day, but if I take one around 3 o’clock at work, I am still motivated to do active things after work. Froggy, but not jumpy, if that makes any sense. I don’t take them all the time, just on the days I feel especially slow, nappy, and unmotivated. If I take one as late as 4, I can still go to sleep peacefully by 11. Win.
I am 5'6" and a slender build. A couple months ago EVERYTHING, including my sweat pants, stopped fitting, I weighed in at 147. Cutting out a lot of carbs, and occasional ellipticalling/gymming took me to the current 137, and I'm shooting to be between 125 - 135 lbs. I could be there a lot faster if I was less lazy and more strict with the diet.. But I'm not. Ha. :D
It's also probably really vain and shallow but I am waiting to drop another 5 lbs before I do another take on Nora, the Duct Tape Scarecrow #2
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