Beachbound

It's late.

I just finished washing clothes.

My bed is covered with said clothes.

I haven't packed a thing.

All of that means one thing: I'M GOING OUT OF TOWN TOMORROW!!!!

I'm headed to the beach for a little while to get some much needed R&R. I took off today so I could get prepared for my trip, but as you can see, not much has happened on that front. What can I say? I'm the Last Minute Queen. I thrive on tight deadlines. It's an art form.

Soon, I'll start tossing things into my getaway bag. Then I'll make a list of the last minute things I need to do. My cat will roll his eyes and give me his "You better leave me enough food this time" look. It'll all come together smoothly ... it always does.

So, I guess at some point, I'll need to move away from this computer and start expediting the situation. But I'm watching The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo on Netflix and I'm not sure I'll be able to move until I've finished.

Anyway, everyone enjoy your weekends! I hope to post some pix when I return.

The Sunday (ok, Monday) Spin (**For all the focus on his racism & antisemitism, Mel Gibson doesn't get enough credit for his mysogyny ...)

1. If I don’t become a homeowner soon, I may kill somebody

2. And that ‘somebody’ might just be directed at the family with the glorious condo listed as a friggin nightmarish short sale, or the real estate folks that couldn’t remove the old people smell from one unit, or the homeowner who thought it would be wise to have wall to wall green carpet

3. Through Aug. 16, I will be going through a Sweet Fast. That means no unhealthy treats (and that includes my beloved french fries) during this time

4. But I’ll be going to the beach in a few weeks, so I’m not sure that I’ll know how to behave when I’m away from home

5. All I know is, come Aug. 17, I’m going to have my way with every sweet, sugary thing in sight. Just try to stop me

6. For now, I’m about to have my way with a lunch that consists of yogurt, some kind of frozen Lean Cuisine sandwich and a granola bar

7. I hope that will keep me away from my habit of going to McDonald’s later in the afternoon, desperately seeking fries and sweet tea

(**Tweet from writer Mat Johnson at 6:11 pm July 10)

The Midweek Muse (**”Drench yourself in splendor whenever possible. Good for the soul”)

1. I didn’t do a Sunday Spin this week because I was just too exhausted, and I figured that all three of my readers would understand (Hi, Mom! * jokes *)

2. Trying to become a homeowner is really kicking my butt, but I can’t wait for the day when I can walk into my own front door, paint my office bright red and grow tomatoes in my backyard

3. But for now, I have to deal with Craig and dem and the mysterious case of who’s baby’s sock just got mixed up in my laundry

4. You know what else is exhausting? Being in a funk, so that ish is over

5. I mean, there’s only so many times I can listen to Mary J Blige’s ‘I’m Going Down’ cd, or decry the fact that my Waiting to Exhale soundtrack skips so badly that Whitney’s ‘Why Does It Hurt So Bad’ sounds like it’s being performed by Charlie Brown’s schoolteacher

6. I have moved onto a constant diet of things that make me happy, like laughter, french fries, loud, misogonystic music and old episodes of Dr Quinn, Medicine Woman (yes, I was a rabid fan back in the day)

7. And more importantly, the tv show, Bridezillas. Dem heffas are crazy.


I hope everyone is having a great week!

(**Tweet from Terry McMillan at 1 a.m. July 13, 2010)

The Anti Yoga

I realized recently that I shouldn’t do yoga. I mean, yeah, I do it, but I’m not really the yoga type. I mean, I enjoy the workout and the feeling of cleansed toxins when I’m finished sweating in that 105 degree room. (I’m talking Bikram yoga, ya’ll) However, I’m not that cheery, nonviolent wholesome person that the exercise is geared toward. I mean, I will go into class with an attitude, especially after the check in lady tells me that I can no longer receive my student discount because they learned I’m older than 25. (seriously, I was 33 the last time I got my $2 discount, why are you being cute today?) Plus, I talk about people. It’s not in a mean way (not all the time anyhow), but sometimes my fellow exercisers just crack me up/annoy me/make me shake my head , so I need to vent, and that’s exactly what this post is going to be about.

My workout schedule consists of two types: spinning (bike riding) and occasional hot yoga. These are the types of people in my workout neighborhood:

-Water Boy: This guy always comes to spin class just a few minutes late, decked out in his finest spandex and carrying a small bag. He gets on his bike and manages to find a place to store at least three bottles of water. Yes, that’s right, three. Last time, I saw him put a bottle of water on the side holder of the bike, another on the center holder, and a third he carried and drank from throughout class. Instead of moving on to another bottle when he’s done with the one he’s carrying, he will leave class and go to the water fountain to refill his bottle, as if he doesn’t have backup water. You, my friend, get the Side Eye.

-Kinda Hyper/Kinda Drunk: My favorite person in spin class is Kay, because she’s always cheery and energetic, but not over the top (Mind you, it’s 6 a.m.) Well, now Kay has been upstaged by Mo, who is BEYOND hyper. The first day I met Mo, I had the distinct pleasure of having her bike placed beside mine. Our first introduction was when she tapped (yes, she put her hands on my body) to scream something like, “WE GOT THIS, STRENGTH!!! WE GOT THIS!!!” Another time, I had the pleasure of sitting between Kay and Mo as they performed some form of menopausal call and response (Think Tisha Campbell & A.J. Johnson from House Party, just the later years): Mo: WHERE YOU AT GIRL??? WHERE YOU AT???? Kay: I’M OVER HERE GIRL!! I’M OVER HERE! YOU CAN’T HANDLE THIIIIIIS!!” By the end of class, my eardrums had left the building. One day, a man in class was like “You know, Mo’s return to fitness is really wearing me out.” Ain’t that the truth. Then I found out that Mo goes to the same church as my parents and knows them very well. Sigh. I’m giving her two shots of ritalin and some decaf.

-Gross Man, Just Gross: My first trip to this hot yoga studio, I was running late and the teacher had to place my mat in the room while I put my stuff away. Perhaps the teacher decided to punish me, so she set up my mat behind a large, hairy barechested man wearing tiny shorts. I spent 90 minutes in 105-degree temperatures trying to focus on my own body, as opposed to the large tufts of curly back hair that greeted me, just a few feet away. The best part of class was when we had to do this pose, and I had the distinct pleasure of watching buckets of buckets of sweat pour from his furry body and land onto his mat. Yes, I was visually sodomized. Each time I think of it, I become a victim all over again. No means no, my friends.

--The Mother. I take spin class Monday, Wednesday and Friday and because I like routine, I tend to weigh myself before class. I mean, if I’m going to be in a 6 am class three days a week, I better be seeing some kind of results. Little did I know that Linda was watching me. “You know you look good, right?” she says to me one day after I get off the scale. “You shouldn’t be on the scale all the time like that. It’s unhealthy. There are so many people in here with eating disorders and I don’t want you to be one of them.” Clearly, she’d never seen me eat, nor did she know about my growing obsession with french fries and oatmeal raisin cookies. I told her she ahd nothing to worry about – that I was just anal – when I really wanted to tell her to mind her own business, since she’s on the scale as much as I am. I’m not a morning person, so it doesn’t take much to get me riled up.

--The Showoff. Now, if I’m in a free, beginner’s yoga class, I expect to be surrounded by beginners. Right? Right? Well now, a few experts came to this class I attended with my friend, and that’s fine. The thing that gets me is the chick in the front row, who couldn’t do a simple downward dog when the teacher asked. Oh no, she had to do her own routine, from the cobra to the locust poses, on down to the half tortoise and the camel. I wanted to tell her to teach the class, or LEAVE. But I kept it all inside. After all, yoga is supposed to channel your rage. Right? Psfh. Yeah right.

Well, that about sums up my exercise pet peeves. I imagine this is a list that will continue. I hope I haven’t scared Motown StepMom Girl away from yoga.

(Photo from http://mamrie.files.wordpress.com/2009/07/bikram-yoga.jpg )

The Sunday Spin (**"I've always liked my women book & street smart")

1. I went condo hunting today and fell in love with a spot that meets my requirements -- lots of space, good neighborhood

2. Let's just hope it doesn't get sold before I can dig my claws into it (since that's happened once already)

3. I'm slowly getting out of my funk, at least that's what I keep telling myself, but ...

4. I did buy a big ole thing of oatmeal raisin cookies and had my way with an insane number of them ...

5. And it is 9:30 and I just want to crawl into bed ...

6. But I didn't cry at all today, and that is progress!

7. Tomorrow I'll have to get my focus back, both on the thesis and draft #4 of my novel

Happy Fourth everybody!

(**'Fancy' by Drake)