Burn, Baby, Burn

In an effort to get back in the workout habit, my friend JF and I decided we would take advantage of one of the perks of working in a building with 3 gyms and every make and model of treadmill, elliptical, and stationary bike. After school, we changed into exercise gear and went up to the mezzanine-- an open area above one of the practice gyms where said equipment is set up-- for our first afternoon workout. Imagine our surprise when we realized the cheerleading squad was using the mezzanine for their competition practice.

Panting while pedaling is bad enough, but panting while pedaling in front of 20 tall skinny teenage girls...girls with about 2 ounces of fat on their collective bodies...is, well, an ego blow to say the least. It also didn't help that while I was huffing and puffing, they were flip-flopping across the entire mezzanine floor.

Of course, I think I have figured out the where they get all that energy. First, it's their music. I've decided that much of the motion we would attribute to them is really just their super-lightweight bodies falling victim to the loud bass in their music. Everything in the entire gym was vibrating, and without any fat to help anchor them to the floor, it's inevitable they'd just be bouncing around everywhere.

And then there's all that hair. Now, unlike some schools, our squad is not full of the stereotypical blond girls. No, sirree. Don't get me wrong. We have our share of blonds, but we also have at least 50% brunettes. Regardless of hair color, though, they all have long hair. Long hair that they wear up in long ponytails. Ponytails that they whip around when they do their handsprings. Ponytails + handsprings = momentum. Momentum turns one handspring into multiple flip-flops and a full back layout with a full twist.

So all I have to do is grow my hair out about another foot (or save up and get extensions) and buy a suped up sound system and I'll be set. Because those tiny bodies? They are the result of resistance training really. Those girls aren't really moving around that much. They're really just trying to stay still. Imagine all the calories they must burn fighting the forces of physics acting on them.

Poor little things. It's sad really. I bet inside those little long-haired heads of theirs, they really wish they could be more like the rest of us: sturdy, stable, and capable of lying still for hours on end.

Posted at 7:35 PM
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Hello, Old Friend

I must admit that since the weather has been colder, I have pretty much abandoned my morning run. When it's 14 degrees outside, something in my little body overrides all sense of athleticism (which, as anyone who knows me can attest, is rather limited to begin with) and forces me to snuggle deeper under my micro-fleece sheets (yeah, you read that right: micro-fleece sheets!) and hit the snooze button a couple more times. Consequently, my wee body is getting less wee every day, and I haven't seen those early morning hours from any vantage outside my bed in several weeks.

This morning? I woke up at 3:28...on my own...and I have been unable to get back to sleep. So here I am getting re-acquainted with my old friend 4 a.m. He hasn't seemed to change much, to tell you the truth. Except for the fact that he's freakin' 16 degrees!

Now, I recognize that there are parts of my proud country that are hitting -25 or some ridiculousness like that. But I don't live there. My people were apparently made for warmer climates, so we get our extreme weather at, well, the other extreme. I can handle the heat (as long as there is shade and sunscreen). At least with 100+ degree summers you don't have to worry about pipes bursting or frostbite on your walk to work or treacherous driving conditions. You drink lots of water, you siesta in the middle of the afternoon, you run your ceiling fans.

To be frank, I'm actually a little miffed that I'm having to deal with both ends of the thermometer spectrum. I mean, those folks in Iowa may be shoveling snow every other day right now in the sub-zero afternoons, but how many 100+ days are they going to have to sweat out this summer?

Which is why, in a stroke of 4 a.m. brilliance, I have decided that I must now devise a plan to move somewhere with more consistent temperatures...like Hawaii or Bora Bora. That, or I must find a way to earn a living from the comfort of a non-drafty, climate-controlled home in a neighborhood that offers more than 4 varieties of delivery food.

Or, there is always the lottery, which has been my Plan A for quite some time now, and which I would happily spend $5 on if buying the tickets didn't require opening my front door to the 16 degree world outside.

Plan B it is then: stay under woobie, on couch, with mini-heater on and book in hand for entire day. Completely do-able.

Posted at 4:15 AM
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A Proud Son

So I'm watching the end of the National Championship game, and my alma mater just lost.Now maybe I'm a sore loser, but I can't help but notice that when they are interviewing one of the winning players, they are asking him what he'd like to say to his father who was watching the game...from prison.

Now, I know you don't punish the son for the sins of the father, but if my dad was in prison, I think I'd be trying to keep that on the down low. Instead, the commentator concludes the interview with the statement "A proud son...to his proud father."

I'd probably still be laughing, if it weren't for the fact that now I am distracted by the footage of all the almost grown men who are crying as they pass a gaudy crystal Easter egg around the circle, taking turns kissing it.

And men say women are overly emotional?

Posted at 11:09 PM

2010: Try again!

Last year I boldly declared 2009 a Drama Free year. And shortly thereafter I sent a text message that pretty much shot any chance of that to hell. Because that message started a relationship, or rather, changed a relationship, and most change in this world, especially the kind that is significant, involves at least a little bit of drama.

So DF '09 was doomed pretty much right out of the gate. So much so, in fact, that the catch phrase became a sort of ironic joke between myself and a couple of my friends.

But I like the idea.

After spending Christmas with my family, I was reminded once again of my genetic pre-disposition to drama. Watching my mother and grandmother handle the holidays was a bit unsettling for my sister and I. We started out laughing at how our mother is becoming more like her mother...and then the next logical conclusion hit us and we both kind of cringed. Don't get me wrong. We love our mom. We're just not in a hurry to become her. Since my mother's penchant for drama is one of her trademarks, this is one of the areas I think worthy of another attempt for self-improvement on my part.

With that in mind, and with this week's drama of unending technical problems at work still playing out around me, I will once again throw down the gauntlet to the powers that be: I will attempt to keep 2010 Drama Free!

I know the odds are slim, but a girl's gotta try. Because first it's the drama, and then it's the knit pant suits.

So come on, 2010. Let's see how long it takes you to turn a peaceful Daisy into raving lunatic.

Posted at 10:39 PM
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Raindrops on roses...

I have decided that the bread from Macaroni Grill has to be one of my new favorite things. There is something irresistible about the warm salty rosemary goodness...especially when they bring out an extra loaf for you to take home. :) That is what I call a good waitress!

Posted at 9:13 PM
The first day back after a vacation is always a pain in the ass and today was no exception. Morning came too soon, the alarm was louder than I remember, and a leisurely breakfast? Well, that was a distant memory. Cold leftover gingerbread cake eaten while walking down the block to work was a far cry from my pancakes and eggs from Sunday brunch.

Of course, nothing wanted to work correctly in my building, so most of my day was spent fielding phone calls from people who couldn't get logged in to one program or another. There were also the requisite "emergencies", which turned out to be tripped power switches on surge strips. And let's not forget the token call vendors during which I explain that when we paid for installation, we actually expected all the wires to be run to connect the equipment to the actual computer.

But the frosting on my cupcake of a day? Well, let's see. If I had to pick one moment? Oh yeah. I've got it. The crowning glory of my Monday:

I dropped my cell phone in a toilet.
Dramatic representation of dangerous, phone grabbing toilet.
(Found through Google imaages, located on a number of blogs,
so I'm not sure who to credit.)
That's right. I dropped my cell phone in a toilet. Not my personal home toilet, mind you, which I happened to clean this past wekend. No, of course not. That would have been bad enough, but I had to do one better. I had to drop my phone in a public toilet.

And then I had to get it out.

Now, I am not freaked out by germs, but seriously? Who wouldn't be grossed out by the idea that this thing you put on your face was once on the bottom of someone else's bowl?

Of course, it was completely drenched, so I figured a little disinfectant spray wasn't going to kill it (or me for that matter, as I sprayed my hands...then washed them...in hot water...with LOTS of soap). And I'm sure the Clorox wipes didn't damage it any further either when I used them on it before setting it in front of my mini space heater in my office to help it dry out.

And now? Now my phone is buried in a bowl of rice for the next day or so to see if that will suck out the rest of the water (and hopefully the germs with it).

And have you people seen how expensive cell phones are? At least, when you aren't scheduled for an upgrade, so you aren't entitled to any of the rebates, or when you really don't want to sign a new 2-year agreement? They are freakin' expensive! We are talking hundreds of dollars. And I'm not even looking at an iPhone because I can't afford the monthly plan rates with AT&T, so that's out of the question anyway; those are actually cheap compared to some of the Blackberries and Droid phones out there.

We are all crossing our fingers that my phone dries out and does not contract any type of communicable contamination that it might give to me...if I am able to use it again.

Mondays suck.

Posted at 10:14 PM
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Attempted homicide a la golf cart

I made the mistake of returning a call from my sister today:

Big Sis: Mom almost killed dad today.
Daisy: What? Again? What did she do this time?
Big Sis: Dad backed the golf cart off the sidewalk and into the culvert in front of my house tonight.
Daisy: Is he o.k.?
Big Sis: Well, he got out and had mom give it gas while he pushed it from behind.
Daisy: What? Did he hurt himself?
Big Sis: Brother-in-law had to go outside and help him, and when they finally got some traction, the thing took off...dragging dad behind it...across my front yard...straight toward my dining room door...
Brother-in-law (yelling from the background): ...and almost into a tree...
Big Sis: ...and almost into a tree.
Daisy: (laughing) Is dad o.k.?
Big Sis: We were yelling at mom to take her foot off the gas, and dad was just lying there in my front yard.
Daisy: And?
Big Sis: And they went home.
Daisy: Is dad o.k.?
Big Sis: I guess. They went home.

Call to Parents' house:

Daisy: Mom, did you try to kill dad tonight?
Mom: He backed off the sidewalk. What are you up to?
Daisy: Just watchin' TV. But I heard you dragged Dad across the yard and almost drove into Big Sis' house.
Mom: My tennis shoe got stuck on the gas pedal.
Daisy: (laughing) Can I talk to dad?
Dad: Hello?
Daisy: Dad, are you o.k.? I heard mom tried to kill you again tonight.
Dad: That's true. She dragged me miles across your sister's yard and almost drove us into the dining room.
Daisy: (laughing) Are you o.k.?
Dad: Well, I survived, but I'm sure I'll feel it tomorrow.

Does anyone else have these conversations, or is it just me?

Posted at 8:35 PM
During my morning perusal of all things CNN, my eye was caught by this headline:

Irish atheists use Bjork, Mark Twain to challenge blasphemy law

Interest peeked, I read the article (which had surprisingly few grammatical errors for CNN.com, believe it or not. New Year's resolution?) which is all about a new blasphemy law passed in Ireland this past summer that went into effect yesterday.

While I understand the intent of the law is probably to try to foster some sort of respect for world religions (and to avoid a Mohammad-misstep a la Denmark a year or two back), I am, once again, dumbfounded as to just how any modern government can ignore pretty much all historical evidence that demonstrates that these types of laws are pretty much a waste of paper. You can't tell people they can't say something. Well, o.k., you can tell them they can't say something, otherwise I'd be hypocritical, but you can't legislate it. Not unless you are Hitler, or Stalin, or some other megalomaniacal guy, and even then you have to have a ridiculously large secret police to help you listen in on everyone's conversations, and have you tried to understand the Irish when they get talking? Especially after a couple of pints? No. Freakin'. Way. Not

So, I agree with this atheist group's point:

Blasphemy laws are unjust: They silence people in order to protect ideas. In a civilized society, people have a right to to express and to hear ideas about religion even if other people find those ideas to be outrageous.

But I still had to giggle when I read that their tactics included publishing blasphemous quotations that "...include the words of Jesus, Mohammed, Mark Twain, Salman Rushdie and Bjork."

Bjork? Seriously?

I get you want to focus on artists, since art of the law says defendants can site " literary, artistic, political, scientific or academic value in what they said or published," but Bjork? Of all the artists in the history of the world you could have used to make your point? You choose Bjork?

Would you want this woman on the stand defending you?

We're not talking The Jedi Council people. We're talking a real trial.

Note to self: If ever arrested for blasphemy in Ireland, do not call Atheist Ireland to for help. There is not telling who they may hire to mount your defense. I hear Leonard Nimoy may be available between guest spots on Fringe:

Posted at 8:18 AM
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I survived Christmas(es) 2009!

One. One Christmas celebration! Two. Two Christmas celebrations! Three. Three Christmas celebrations! Four. Four Christmas celebrations!

Grand total? I believe I can safely claim SIX official Christmas gatherings at which gifts were exchanged.

Three of these events were required family gatherings, and I must say that I was pleasantly surprised at how well the Winged Monkey handled not one, but two of my family gatherings. Back to back, no less.

Between assembling a Cozy Coupe for Youngest Niece...

(One should be wary of toys whose assembly instructions suggest protective eyewear.)

and fixing a clogged coffee maker for my mom...
(Winged Monkey had to fix The Parents' new coffee maker...3 times.
Not a recommended model.)

I believe the Winged Monkey earned his Monkey Mug...

(WM loves his Evolution of the Flying Monkey mug from CafePress.com.)

as well as my affection.

My favorite gift? Hands down, it would have to be my new Snoopy Snow Cone Machine that Oldest & Dearest Friend gave me yesterday at our belated Christmas lunch. Took us both back to the days of freezing Kool-Aid ice cubes to make icy treats while we sunbathed on her trampoline.

Those were the days.

And so, I start the new year with a blast from my past:

May all of our new years be as joy filled as those 30 seconds. ;)

Happy 2010!

Posted at 7:24 PM
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