Friday, August 31, 2012
I'm going to come right out and say I have never actually tried e-dating. No Match.com or eHarmony.com or YouKnowThere'sSomeoneOutThereYouJustHaven'tLookedOnTHISSiteYet.com Frankly my dear, they scare me. Not in the Craiglist-they'll-rob-you kind of way, but in the people-lie-to-your-face-how-much-worse-can-they-be-over-the-INTERNET kind of way.
Oh sure, there's always the friend of a cousin that has found their one true love on an internet dating site, but that's the 0.5% that you hear about. That ONE person you have heard of that it's actually worked for--the hope-fodder. For the most part all I get told is it's either a bunch of first dates with nothin' to show for it or terrible, terrible matches.
My poor sister is one of those "guess who just WINKED at me?! Ewwww!" ones. At least she's trying though, so kudos to her. At this point though I'm not doing any worse off then her NOT using the dating sites then she is actually using them. I've actually saved myself a lot of aggravation. At least I will keep telling myself that until my sister gets married, then I'm getting a cat.
Friday, August 17, 2012
I live in a relatively small town. I say relatively because the population isn't under a thousand or out in the middle of Nowheresville, but you could walk from one end to the other in under two hours. In fact, most people bike to get around. That should tell you something. Other then the fact it is a college town, there's not a lot happening from day to day. Sure, there's the Farmer's Market twice a week and the occassional rummage sale at the Rotary Club...but besides campus events...eh.
We DO however have two sets of emergency responders. There is a police and fire department for just the college and another one for the town. I feel a little bad for them. The majority of police calls are to frat parties and citing cyclists running stop signs and not having bike lights (seriously, you can get a ticket for that!). The majority of fire department calls are to the Chemistry building when someone has burned a bagel in the toaster (yes, that happened). You know they're bored.
So that's why this morning I was not surprised when I passed two cop cars and two fire trucks on the side of the road (they travel in packs). What were they there for? A tree branch had fallen over the bike path... Thanks for keeping is safe guys!
Getting a black belt is an odd thing. You spend years training; sweating, bleeding, pulling muscles, getting bruises and blisters, being disappointed in your technique, being slightly happier with your technique, being disappointed in your technique again, washing uniforms in special laundry loads, and buying ice packs, ibuprofen and sports tape by the truck load. But no one is ever impressed with what leads up to a black belt. They just hear you are a yellow belt, or a blue belt or red-black belt and say, "Oh, that's nice...when are you getting your black belt?"
I understand that
All that being said, what do you mean, "When am I getting my black belt?" It's not the belt that matters! Ok, yes, the belt is sweet, it has certain bragging rights because there is a expectation of coolness that comes with it, it's a reminder of how hard you worked to get it, but the belt itself does not give you super powers.
You know what getting a black belt means? More training. Why? Because you are never going to be perfect. Never. No matter how many years you train, buckets of sweat you drip or black belt degrees you have. You. Will. Never. Be. Perfect. That doesn't mean you won't get better or that you shouldn't try. It's the striving for perfection that pushes us.
Anyone who is training for the right reasons isn't training for a belt color. You could just as easily show up for class in yoga pants and a tank top and the training is just as valid if your mind is in the right place.
As my Hapkido Master says, "You will never be perfect...and that should be freeing!"
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Funny story from a friend. My friend, let's call her "Marie," is a veterinarian. I saw her today at lunch and asked her how it was going. Her response? "I wish I could separate the animals from the owners!"
Why you ask? Every animal that is sent home is sent with a "discharge report." This is basically a list that tells the owners how the animal was tested, procedures done, if any meds were prescribed, etc. This particular owner just MAILED BACK her discharge report with a big, fat F- (yes, it was in red) on the top of it and apparently some slander about how much she hated "Marie."
Wow. Thanks for the constructive criticism. Now, I have been friends with this vet for closing in on 10 years and I am not underestimating when I say she is SUPER nice and VERY smart.
I therefore hate this unknown lady and calling her mean names.
If she was that unhappy with her service she could have asked for another doctor. Stupid. People are stupid. I run into this problem all the time. *sad face*
Ack! It's been...4 months since I have posted anything and they have changed the layout of Blogger. Holy rusted metal, Batman! Razzin-frazzin...
I seriously need to start taking notes on things to blog about.
Also, my sister has suggested switching blogging sites, but I can barely get through my current one. She says she "gets more traffic" there...meh. I don't really have any "traffic" now to speak of, so...
I could take suggestions. I like suggestions. But there's that whole "traffic" thing so who would be doing to suggesting? Anybody? Bueller?
Help a sister out.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
I am actually not really scared of insects in general. Seeing a pincher bug crawling around in my bathtub (seriously, HOW do they get in there?!) doesn't send me screaming for cover, flies don't make me weep in fear, mosquitoes just annoy me, butterflies are prrrrrretty.
Spiders though...spiders freak me out a little. If I see the little sucker in advance, ok, no problemo, grab that thing with tissue, squish it, flush it. Hasta la vista baby. The problem with spiders though is you almost never just spot them, they sneak up on you.
You're minding your own business, trying to fall asleep in bed and wait...what's that? There's something...crawling...up your arm. You're getting in the shower and one darts past your hand down the shower curtain. You're playing with your sister's nunchucks and one pops out of it's egg and leaps at you (that one's for you Amber). I am pretty darn sure they do this on purpose to humans just to mess with us.
You ever notice that they are really hard to kill? That's why I don't just squash, I flush 'em. Because one time I squashed and just tossed it in the toilet without flushing and when I came back later that frakin' spider was ALIVE and making a valiant attempt to free itself from its watery grave. THEY ARE NOT IMPRESSED WITH YOUR PUNY ATTEMPTS TO SQUASH THEM STUPID HUMANS. They bounce back and then...oh then...they seek revenge.
Spiders are part of what the Italians call La Famiglia. Yes, there is a spider mafia. Yes, they will send out reinforcements to attack you if they find out their Cousin Vinny has been hurt. That's why you flush them as fast as you can before they can send out a distress signal. Because God help you if the call goes out...and it's answered by the enforcers of the family. You think that spider you killed in your bathroom was big? Just wait.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
My new neighbors whose living room windows face my parking spot have two of these little guys. And EVERY morning they freak out when I'm walking to my car and try to get me through the windows. What? I'll throw down with you little midget dogs. Bring the funk. Bring the noise. I'm not scared. I will punt you to the Rose Bowl.
Disclaimer: I wouldn't have a problem with them if they weren't so annoyingly loud. I love dogs. I don't have a problem with little dogs unless they are yappy. Except chihuahuas, I just don't like them on principle.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
A couple of weeks ago I was swimming and went to grab the lip of the pool at the end of a lap and slipped off. Yes, that's just how I roll. In the process I tweaked my finger. It would get better and then hurt, and then get better again. I thought I was just re-spraining it.
Yesterday it started looking all sad and swollen again and developed at nice lump on the left side of my knuckle. My friend at work thought I had dislocated it and convinced me I needed to see the doctor. Awesome in a can.
I get in to the doctor and at first she thinks it may be a dislocation because it looks like it has "torque" (never a word you want to hear in reference to your bones) and sent me down to X-ray. She then reviews my X-rays and says it looks like I have a bad bone bruise (a lot of blood) and it may be cracked. But the radiologist would review it too.
So I have to wear a splint for 2 weeks. Fine, I've been splinted before. Then they bring out this splint with prongs on it and proceed in using half a roll of tape to bind it. By the time the nurse is done my finger looks like the back of a stegosaurus.
I just got the radiologist review. No fracture. So it's just badly sprained and bruised (so I was right all along!). But I still have to wear the splint for 2 weeks!!!!!! Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
You ever buy or are given so much fruit you actually have a hard time eating it all before it goes bad? What?! Me too!
It's one thing to get apples or peaches or...well, pretty much anything but citrus. You can eat apples until they are coming out your ears and when they start going bad you can make pie. You can eat peaches until you're sick and when they start to get mushy you can make cobbler. What the frak are you supposed to do with lemons and oranges? Yes, I know you can zest them, but really, how much zest does one person need? You can juice them, but who wants to use oranges that have dried out for juicing?
It's the excess of citrus principle, there will ALWAYS be more oranges then you can eat. I don't care if you buy two at the grocery store, they will multiply when you aren't looking and all of a sudden you will be thinking the same thing as I am, "Crud...what am I supposed to do with them NOW?!"
Monday, January 23, 2012
Currently I am going to the PT for my hip. I developed quite bad bursitis and--just to put the cherry on top--messed up my IT band. Yeaaaaa...good times.
At my first appointment my PT was basically doing the maneuver in the picture above, rotation my leg around in the hip socket. Then, WITHOUT WARNING, he yanked it straight and popped my hip out to "release tension." I yelled. Really loudly. Yes, it hurt like the dickens, but it also surprised me. Warn a sister. Ok?
Then on my last appointment I had another PT and she literally rolling-pined my IT band (owwww) and then found knots in my IT band and massaged them out with her full body weight with her elbow. When I (may have) whimpered, she told me I was "lucky" because she "could have been meaner." Uhhh...
I spent the rest of the day limping after that appointment when before going in I was doing fine. Thanks guys.
The sad part? I go again this week. I guess if PTs are sadistic, I'm masochistic...
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Ok, so, apparently iPhones can be hacked. Through the freakin' iCloud...maybe I should have realized this possibility before, but I have been living in the land of "My iPhone is cooler then YOU" for a long time now. It still is, but...
Hacking happened to me today.
First it sent a "hey sexy" text to my Mom. Frankly, I thought that was funny, but it freaked me out a little because I had not sent that text and I didn't purse-text with autocorrect (you know that crap happens) because at 11:46am when the text was sent I was sitting in a dark room where there is NO service, at a microscope, reading slides.
So I tell my friend at work, we have a good laugh about it...it's funny, but not harmful. Good thing my Mom has a good sense of humor. When I told her I didn't send that she was like, "yeah, right...hahahaha." That goes to show what kind of humor we both have I guess. LOL
Then I got this awful feeling...what if that wasn't the only person "my phone" texted? So I looked back through text history (because I didn't have any new text alerts) and lo and behold...one of my really good friends was also texted. "I" requested a picture from her, and when she was like "why are you crazy? I'm seeing you in a week for dinner." the hacker responded "fine, cancel dinner then." Well, there was stuff in between, but thankfully no profanity. Then I get a Facebook message from her telling me that she thinks my phone was stolen because she is getting these weird texts with really poor grammar from "me" and she knows it can't be me. Bless her little heart, she knew it wasn't me because of poor grammar. You know someone knows you when...LOL
I have now turned off iMessages (which is texting between iPhones that apparently goes through the cloud, and I will be turning off iCloud syncing), so there. Take that advanced iPhone mechanics.
I think the Cylons are trying to take over...
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
I go to a small gym in my town, but the big plus is that it has a heated swimming pool. That's actually why I ended up switching gyms, I wanted to swim in the Master's classes in the morning. I thought it would be better for my poor broken body, what with the no-impact cardio and all.
So starting sometime last Fall I began dragging my butt up at 5am to go to the hour long class Tuesdays and Thursdays. Let me emphasize I am NOT, repeat NOOOOOOOOT a morning person. Never have been. And I'm going to go ahead and say it, I never will be a morning person. Don't try to convince me otherwise. I don't believe in mornings for anything other than sleeping.
I drive the 7 minutes it takes to get to the gym at 5:30 in the morning, go into the small locker room to change out of my sweats (I wear my bathing suit underneath), put on my goggles and cap, wrap a towel around myself and then go brave the cold. Because despite the fact the pool is heated, it is not indoors, so it is fraking cold outside. Your best bet is to banzai into the water and start swimming as fast as you can to warm up. I have found no other way. Pansying around and dipping your toe in first is not the way to go, trust me.
When I am done with my swim I run into the locker room to change and head back home. Starting on the first day and every single Tuesday/Thursday after that, I have opened the door to the locker room and have been confronted with a naked woman. The same naked woman. Right in front of the door. Free bird. I realize that it is a locker room and of course people change in there, there are even showers. I just wasn't expecting blatant nudity just hanging out right at the entrance. Like, the lady just chills in her birthday suit and greets people. The first couple of times was a bit shocking, but then after that I just found it hilarious and it sorta became part of my routine. Get up, go swimming, see a naked lady, go home and shower. Morning accomplished.
It got to the point where she would greet me when I came in. She now recognized me as a regular. One time she even asked me to make sure the door was shut on a windy day...NOT because she was afraid it would blow open and give everyone a peep show, but because it was "creating a draft" (her words) for her unclothed self.
So then about 2 months ago I really messed up my hip and I wasn't able to swim until last week. Tuesday and Thursday I go swim, no naked lady. WHAT HAS THE WORLD COME TO? It threw off my routine. I didn't know where I was, or what I was supposed to be doing anymore. Then this morning--ah...back to normal--I opened up the locker room door and there was my naked lady to greet me. The world has righted itself once again.