* I was able to go back to working out Tuesday night after 10 days off.  Good thing, too… I gained WEIGHT during that break.  Like, weight that will likely take a month to lose again and caused my clothing that was too loose to fit just a bit more correctly, dammit.  I’m not happy about that, and have thus pushed my July 1 goals to July 15.  Going back to class felt great, though.  I didn’t realize how much angst and frustration I was holding onto until I was able to let it go.

* Predictably- gaining some weight (and I’m not going into numbers, but we’re not talking 9 ounces or some BS like that) has done a number on my opinion of myself.  I am having the sense to not take myself too seriously, but that my self-image is tied at all to numbers on a scale pisses me off.

* 3 chats started with the same statement: “The Dalai Lama has a twitter account. My mind, it boggles.”  10-ish minutes later- one turned into a discussion on His Holiness’s use of technology in conveying his message, one went toward the future of His office, and the 3rd? What he would think of LOLCats.  I love technology today.

* I’ve been contemplating, lately, that it may not actually be my responsibility to guarantee the personal happiness of everybody else.  I want everybody to be happy, for sure… and healthy and abundant and anything else that they want to be.  I’m just not sure how much of my own effort I need to be sinking into that.  To a degree, isn’t somebody’s happiness with their lot in life their own damn responsibility?  Don’t answer that.

* On that note, an argument that keeps coming up with a dear one resurfaced again this week.  Once we hugged it out and put the cards on the table, it pretty much turned out that the entire cause of the argument was each party trying to make the other party happy, but not really listening to the other.
* I’m still sad that Work and Money and Life In General caused me to cancel my vacation plans for this month.  I’m significantly less sad than I was because EvilSara had to cancel the same plans, and instead we’re going to have a wonderful weekend together, and on Saturday night, we’re going to get to spend time with a number of our dear ones.

* Life is good more than it is not.  My house is a mess, my yard is not mowing itself, I have to carefully manage my budget, and I hate cap sleeves with a vengeance… but I have to put serious consideration into how to do things like manage to spend time with all of the people who want and deserve my time.  Therefore, I must be doing something right, right?  Right.

* I stopped blogging. Again.

* I took up geocaching… which really could be a blog entry or 12 all on it’s own. I’ll work on telling you about my new geektastic hobby soon.

* I contracted Lyme Disease. This has nothing to do with #2, as we’ve figured out when I got it- and it wasn’t while geocaching. It was while playing nighttime bocce ball in the woods on top of a mountain in Arkansas… at 2 AM.

* Kickboxing is still amazing, but the LD has me benched until next week due to blahblahblah steroids/heart attacks blah blah. Whatever.

* I have not lost any weight since February. My body has changed a good bit but the actual pounds are not budging… so in an effort to re-motivate myself, I’m not weighing til at least July 1 (possibly July 15, due to the setback caused by a damn Arkansas tick with an entitlement complex). Instead I’m crazily tracking measurements…. and we’ll see how it goes. It makes sense to me, I swear.

* My house is trashed. TRASHED. See, previously, I had a sewing room (the second largest bedroom in the house), a guest room (the smallest), and the room that was my dad’s but became James’s, and well, living in your ex-girlfriend’s-dad’s room is kinda creepy, plus, the person living there full time should get more space, yes? So we’re halfway through the process of “every room takes a step to the left” which is involving LOTS of getting rid of things that have been following me around for 10 + years. This little adventure means that there’s a futon in the study, a dresser in the hallway, and I can’t even see the dining room table. No, you can’t come over. It’ll be better in a week or two.

* I have a new tattoo on my right foot. It is beautiful, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been, and it itches oh sweet baby Jesus it itches.

* I watched my first “zombie” movie ever last weekend. Well, I watched “I Am Legend” and while I understand that they may not be typical zombies the point is that I watched the movie, I didn’t freak out, I didn’t cry, and more importantly- I didn’t have night terrors.

So… it’s not a story I’m telling on Facebook or my blog or anywhere else sane and respectable people might find it, but there is a Grapefruit Story (also known as the Canteloupe Story, the Mayonnaise Story, and the “How John and Sarah came to believe that they might get arrested after deeply offending 3 state troopers and a birthday party of 10 year olds at McDonald’s in Texarkana, TX on the day of Squid’s Wedding” story).  This story is pretty hilarious but it is not PC at all.  Hell, I’m pretty sure telling the story in Texarkana, TX could possibly get you arrested.
K?  k.

—

Now imagine, for a moment, if you will, what my reaction was when my boss just came into my office and said “So, tell me your grapefruit story.”

2. What is your least favorite word? Hate

3. What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally?
People who can calm my mind and inspire good contemplation
Nature
Good physical touching that doesn’t feel strained or fake
Excellent music
Comfortable conversations that don’t get me all anxious or self-conscious

4. What turns you off?
Angst.  Drama.  Sleep-deprivation.

5. What is your favorite curse word?
Oh, if I must curse, let me throw an F-bomb with vigor.  Why do it if it isn’t going to count?
6. What sound or noise do you love?
Laughter, birds, a good quality growl, silence.

7. What sound or noise do you hate?
Nails on a chalkboard, airplanes, discontent.

8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
I think I would make a divine advice columnist, and perhaps I could rock elephant training at the circus.

9. What profession would you not like to do?
I get clinchy at blood and gore, so anything that involves that- physician, EMT, nurse, playground monitor.

10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?
“’bout time.  The party is just getting good.”

Anyhow- when I told Facebook that I was taking it, I had lots of awesome supportive comments and a few that basically said “uh, you know that’s gonna make you all BSC, right?”  Granted, I probably deserved that because of the way that I phrased the announcement, but it still made me a bit paranoid.

Yesterday was Day 3 of Chantix.  I’m pretty sure that it takes a bit longer than that for most drugs to start screwing with you, but it was a seriously bad day anyhow.  There was work stress.  There was family stress.  There was a touch of weird with a friend and there was the onset of the 2 days per month that I am actually entitled to be twitchy… and I wasn’t really a basket case- it was worse.  I was somewhere on the line between being fine and being a hot mess.  I could tell that I was on a precipice but nothing that I could do pulled me off of it or sent me on over the edge.  It was very disconcerting and upsetting, but you know what?  I dealt.  I ran my errands, I went home, and I decided that my evening was going to be spent doing whatever my mind and body decided I needed to be doing, plans be damned.  Well, my plan was to do some serious cleaning and then tackle the abyss that is the sewing room.  Instead I watched half of a movie, did some cleaning, watched the Madonna episode of Glee (BTW, the “Like a Virgin” montage?  Just a touch too hot.  Just sayin’), cleaned some more, remembered to eat… and put my foot down on a few callers and said “no, really, it’s alone time now, I promise I’ll fix you tomorrow, and I don’t need to be fixed right now either.”  How often do I do that?  Rarely… and it felt kind of good.  Decadent.  Therapeutic, even.  I stayed up late and I cleaned out my chest of drawers and I watched junk TV and it was good, just me and the cats and the dog and whatever I decided I wanted to say to them- or not.

So anyway- today is much better.  I’m not going to say I’m not feeling a little bit delicate but I’m definitely feeling better equipped to handle myself, should I find myself immersed in that weird place again… and I hope that I can tap into that little security if I do start noticing myself there, because obviously, I can do this.

I’m loving yoga, for sure.  I love the way I feel during and after, I love the mental slogginess that’s kind of like waking up from a good nap infused with a good buzz.  However, even though it’s challenging it isn’t the sort of challenging that I want.  I want something that’s going to make me feel STRONG and give me tone and maybe accidentally a muscle or two.  I don’t so much care about ever being able to wear a bikini, and probably wouldn’t even if I could, but I’d like to maybe be able to pull off a tank top without being all weird about my arms.  Sooooo I started thinking about what kind of activity I’d like to do that might accomplish the ends that I care about right now.  I don’t do well at a gym on my own without interaction.  I won’t do a DVD regularly because I get bored.  I seem to thrive in class environments but the local gym offerings are not “fun” sounding… and I am such a damn toddler.  The idea of step aerobics with Buffy and Tawny kind of gives me the hives, but I need to step up my high activity stuff if I’m going to lose the last 30 pounds or so that I want to lose and not come out of it looking like a Shar Pei.

In my hunting, I found something that sounds really cool- a boxing gym really close to work that has boxing, kickboxing, Muay Thai, self-defense classes, and hosts an MMA group- can we say eye candy?  I know we can.  Now, I’ve got no real interest in getting punched in the face but according to the guy I spoke with earlier, black eyes aren’t really a part of what they offer unless you’re really into that sort of thing.  They have classes at 6:30 AM, 7:15 PM, and everywhere in between… and you still get to use the gym’s facilities when you’re not in a class but you want to punch something.  It sounds like a dream, and it’s a flat rate per month, not a per-class fee.

It’s an EXPENSIVE flat rate per month… but what’s better, paying a $25 membership to a gym you won’t use or significantly more for one you will?  EvilSara broke it down in figuring that I’d need to attend 2.5 classes per week to “make it worth it” and while that’s a lot… it’s not unreasonable if I can do one before work one or two days a week.  It also might get me off of this stupid plateau-type thing I’ve been on… and give me motivation to finally start back up on the Chantix and quit smoking, because a) the gym costs as much as that habit does and b) I’m not about to be the candy-ass chubby girl who smokes at the asskicker’s gym.

So…. that’s the plan.  Whatcha think?

So, brains, what do I need?  A nap?  A hug?  A boot to the ass?  Perhaps an ice cream float and a new bra?  I’m now taking suggestions.

• I am drawn to people who are significantly more intelligent than I am.  I’ve always been this way, really, and I’ve told myself that it’s because I like to have that kind of access to people who can make me better.  After all… in a lot of ways, you become those that you surround yourself with, right?  Anyhow, recently, I’ve discovered the downside of that- there comes a point at which I feel like I’m in over my head and almost feel like I’m too dumb to hang.  That’s not a good thing.  I’m not sure if the answer is to try to be smarter, point out the condescension, withdraw myself from the geniuses, or just get over it.  I think we’re gonna work on getting over it.

• I am officially a size 14.  This is awesome (and has been confirmed by multiple dress and jeans brands).  The not awesome?  Every other woman in America is also a size 14, and they buy all the things I want before I realize I want them.

• In a related note- cap sleeves suck.

• Songs stuck in my head this week - “Scared, Are You?” by Better than Ezra, “I Kissed a Girl” by Katy Perry, and “One of these Nights” by the Eagles.  It’s a weird mix.  It works.  I’m especially fond of the latter.

• Speaking of music- Laura Bell Bundy (she who played Elle Woods in Legally Blonde: The Musical) has released a very very Country album.  Not really my genre, but one song has grabbed me by the throat and won’t let me go.  Funny, because it’s not really a subject I identify with today, but… I could on some days.  Here is a link to an abysmal you-tube- just minimize the window and go on about your business but listen to the song.  Maybe one of you will like it as much as OriginalSara and I do.

• It probably needs mentioning somewhere- I have a roommate now.  James has moved back in into a guest bedroom and we’re co-habitating.  That sounds weird… I think it bugs some people.  Well, no, I know it bugs some people but it doesn’t bug me, or him, for us to be living together in a strictly platonic fashion and sharing a home and responsibilities and board games and books.  The neighbors are far more confused than anybody else, I think, but it doesn’t have to be a problem if everybody can be grownups.  Frankly, I don’t care a whole lot about what other people think about the situation if it’s working for the two people involved in the situation.  Fair?  I think so.

• The word “beautiful” bothers me.  I can’t get my brain around this one, because I call people beautiful all the time- and I mean it genuinely.  For me, calling somebody beautiful has very little to do with their appearance.  It can be their demeanor, it can be their attitude, it can be their genuine awesomeness or that they did something amazingly perfect, but it ain’t their looks.  That said- in recent weeks, I’ve been called beautiful by 3 separate well-meaning people, and it’s just made me feel bad and that’s made them feel bad and then I get the “why can’t you take a compliment” lecture and it just all goes bad.  I’m not sure which rock in my head is causing this problem, but he needs talking to… any suggestions phrased in a non-confrontational manner would be appreciated.

• I want to take a cruise or go somewhere exotic and lovely and not here.  Of course, I’m pretty much out of vacation days, can’t justify a frivolous expense, and have nothing to wear.  Thus, I’m debating throwing a party instead.  I’m kinda thinking it’s about time for the return of the White Trash Croquet Tournament and Fish Fry… or maybe an Earth Day Soylent Green watching party.  Or maybe I just need to go to somebody else’s party.

A friend of mine blogged about how he’s hated April 1st ever since his middle-school students rearranged his classroom in the parking lot.  That makes me wish I had a direct line to some of my teacher-friends’ students.  Mouse, for example, would have a lot of fun with that.

Charles and Sabine made their “complicated relationship” public on Facebook, of course, which I’m not sure everybody got but those of us who did were entertained.  Me?  Well, I just went to lunch with a girlfriend, mowed some grass, observed my roommate thoroughly enjoying a 6-pack of Abita (and later into the evening that shit got HILARIOUS), and went to bed.  Wooohoo.  I will admit, though, that Kat got me with her post about possum farming.
One of the things I read yesterday was a Facebook post that observed that “April Fool’s Day is the one day of the year where un-funny people try to be funny by lying.”  That might explain my love-hate relationship with the day.  I love a good prank, regardless of the day, but it has to be a GOOD prank, and ultimately non-malicious in order for it to work.  Running through the office screaming “the building is on fire” is not a joke.  Saran-wrapping somebody’s car, especially if they’re not in it?  That’s a joke.  Changing the sheets on somebody’s bed and leaving $5 on the pillow with a note that says “sorry”?  Well, I think that’s a hilarious joke, especially if the new sheets are nicer than the old ones.  Anything that involves falsely invoking the police, fire department, or feds?  Probably not a joke… unless you can get that agency to play along with you.  Then it’s a joke, and an epic one, at that.  Bonus points if you get the news anchors to go along with you… and hey, now that Kat’s back at a TV station…. hmmmmmmm.  Shenanigans.
So now April’s here.  The first quarter of 2010 is gone.  Your taxes are due in 14 days.  The season is upon us (if you’re me, anyway) to dedicate at least 5, if not 10, hours per week to maintaining the lawn and garden, and that’s not even time for improvements, just for maintenance.  Personally, I have no idea where the front section of my year has gone, but I think it’s been spent better than not.  I have big plans for the second chunk, too.  There’s a wedding, a canoeing trip, a trip to Kansas with a handful of notorious suspects of the most amazing variety, a few music shows… all that yard work, of course, maybe some fun and games if all the players can be in the same place at the same time, and I’d like to go back to losing a few pounds, too (I’ve plateaued.  No, I don’t want to talk about it).

So… that’s me.  Welcome to April, and if you got got, remember to get revenge, post it to the internet, and send me the link.  K?  K.

*Lyric from “April Fool” by Soul Asylum

Gulf Wars was a great vacation, and while I was tempted to do a blog recap- I’m not.  Many of the things I want to remember are not ones that need to be retold by the harsh glare of your computer screen… and many of them are memories that I’m going to hoard selfishly.  I know, it’s unfair… but I never said that life was fair, my little popkins.

I’ve been having a lot of thoughts about the types of things that you’re not supposed to blog about, too.  Mortality and love and hate and sex and peace and serenity… and maybe it’s fine to blog about peace and serenity but not when their thoughts you’re thinking are directly tied in to the other stuff.  Something I can blog about, though, without worrying about telling somebody else’s secrets or revealing my own BSC tendencies, is joy.

Joy has been on my mind a whole lot lately, and for once, not in the “how do I get me some of that” kind of way.  While I’m not going to say that my life is perfect- God, it isn’t- it’s damn good.  I think I’ve finally gotten to the point where I’m happier more than I’m not, I’m serene more than I’m conflicted, and I’m laughing more than I’m crying (though my friends still regularly induce tears through laughter, which is a good thing, too).  Of course, now that I feel like I’ve got a good run of daily happiness running, my mind is wanting to turn towards “how did I get here?” because I figure that’s the best way to figure out how to keep it- but then I’m intentionally stopping myself.  Who cares?  If you try to figure out too hard how you got somewhere, you’re not enjoying the being there nearly enough.  Kind of like the lady at the party who is so busy posing pictures she forgets to enjoy the party… and I don’t want to be that girl.

“Joy in one’s heart and some laughter on one’s lips is a sign that the person down deep has a pretty good grasp of life.” Hugh Sidey*

A good grasp?  Well… maybe.  Maybe not.  My lawn needs mowing and my floor needs mopping, but the laundry is done and my truck is clean, so maybe I have my priorities halfway straight, this week, anyway.  Or maybe I don’t, and priorities are maybe overrated?  Eh.  That’d be getting back into the “thinking too much about it” trap I’m staying out of, so instead, I’ll just reaffirm that I’m having a brilliantly wonderful life this season, and I can’t wait to see if anybody else has anything good to say.

*For those who are still tolerating my half-assed participation in the quote challenge, btw, that’s the one you are getting for the week- and I tag Original Sara.