Archive for the 'Skillz' Category

Me and Lance Armstrong - Same!

O.K., MAYBE that is a slight exaggeration. 

  1. I am a woman and he is a man. 
  2. He has prolly no body fat and I have… do.

BUT, for  a brief moment (approximately 10-20 seconds) I was Just. Like. Lance. Armstrong. You see, it is rumored he races at 95% of his maximum heart-rate. And for 10-20 seconds, I raced at 95% of mine! BFF, Lance!

On Saturday my sister and I ran in a local 4 mile race. Picture. Picture. We were so race-ready, on the heels of disco-ing away Friday night at a local casino. We danced from 9 to 1:30 - and only took breaks when the band did. And might I mention it is imperative that one maintains adequate hydration when one is disco-ing like a fool the night before a race.. and only gets 5.5 hours of sleep.

Continue reading ‘Me and Lance Armstrong - Same!’

Zumba!!!

Ya’ll heard of the newest workout dance craze - ZUMBA? Oh wait, it’s only new here… a mere technicality… It’s a Salsa-esque dance/aerobic class. My gym just started offering it. I resisted at first because I really only like to dance when it’s dark and the reality that others perceive is altered - a lot. Ya know, so even the moves of a big purple dinosaur could pass for the chillin’ moves of Vanilla Ice if the conditions are…. Just. Right. I have not been introduced to others as the best dancer in Kitsap County (OK, once) fer nuthin’. I’m serious. 

I decided to give the class a try this a.m. My brave mother and sister came along. I am so proud to call them family. We swizzled and cha-cha’d and step-double-ha-ho-yipped all around a floor that usually hosts a boring ‘ol  step class.

A gal I have come to know and adore was there too! She may not know I have a crush on her though. Why the crush? She sings in a band, that’s why! She also rocks the tambourine, and in case I haven’t mentioned I also seriously ROCK the tambourine (I confess, it’s air-tambourine, but… anyway…). She and I have so much in common! BFF!!  2 cute + 2 be = 4gotten!!!

I hope no one tells her about my blog.

So, I got to “Zumba” next to my local real-life-rock-star-friend… singer and tambourine vixen of the local band One Shot Molly. Oooh - check ‘em out!

Still curious about Zumba? Here’s a video. There are many videos out there and I chose this particular one because of the older gentleman in the black shirt (look for him at seconds 9-12). I think he and I could do some serious Zumba damage…

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Make Me Laugh Monday

We went to the glorious land of all childhoodness Chuck E. NoIDon’tWannaGoPleaseDon’tMakeMeTakeYouThere Cheese for one of my kids’ birthdays. I have 3 of those little people. All 3 have birthdays. All 3! Every. Year! How am I supposed to keep track whose birthday was what…?!? Oh the judgement… I can’t breathe….

Anyway.

I took a moment to stop shoving my face full of that really awesome pizza and I spied saw this guy:

I nudged my husband, and scream-whispered, “Hey! HEY!!! Take a picture of that guy!” IIIIIIII certainly wasn’t gonna take the picture - he coulda killed me! I made Paul do my dirty work.

Hmmm… maybe the Chuck E. Cheese Corporation would like to pay me the big bucks for their new advertising campaign. Ya think?

For other Make Me Laugh Monday reads - go here!

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Never mind.

First off, yeah. It’s Dara Torres, not Dana Torres. My bad.

To refresh your memory, she is the 41 year-old superwoman of all swimmingness… who won a spot on this year’s U.S. Olympic Team to become the oldest woman to ever swim in the Olympics. Sha. Zam.

Anywho. In this post, I wrote her name as “Dana” because the article I linked to in that post gave her that name too. In the spirit of journalistic integrity, I feel I should correct my error. It’s Dara.

Dara. Dara. Dara. *** not unlike Jan Brady’s jealous whine, “Marsha. Marsha. Marsha.”***

My good friend Julie Leung sent me a link to an article in the NY Times about Dara Torres. 

***crickets chirping***

***stunned***

***eye twitching***

Did you that picture?

The woman is a machine. And she has a staff that helps keep her primed. And she is 6 feet tall…

Torres’s retinue includes a head coach, a sprint coach, a strength coach, two stretchers, two masseuses, a chiropractor and a nanny, at the cost of at least $100,000 per year.

I have written a poem:

Why I Will Never Rock the Water Nor be an Olympian Like Dara…

I don’t have a head coach.

Nor a coach for sprinting.

Nor even a coach made of a pumpkin.

Neither like Dara, nor Cinderella am I.

No strength coach…

no stretcher-people neither.

Masseuse?

Schmasseuse!

2 Masseuses?

Double Schmasseuses!

I have no nanny.

I haven’t seen my chiropractor

since December.

$$$,$$$

No. Words.

I. Eat. Sugar.

Go. Dara. Go.

The end.

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Busy Weekend

In case you are wondering, my stomach is still not 100% after yesterday, but I have been able to eat. I even drank a margarita tonight. Take that, Stomach!

Additionally and furthermore, I am much more tired than I thought I would be at this point… Sure, yesterday’s run could be the reason, but lots of other fun things happened this weekend…

Friday - a ferry ride and 1.5 hour drive “up” to Bellingham. My dear friend Sara will be having her baby girl soon. So, of course I HAD to go and help with the baby shower!!! Friday afternoon was filled with shower prep. I was not able to make the cupcakes at home, so I made them at Sara’s house. These are the finished product:

    

Continue reading ‘Busy Weekend’

Broke it.

Not my ankle.

Not my arm.

Not my clavicle…

But the “2 hour wall”!!!

Today, my friend Katie and I ran the North Olympic Discovery Half-Marathon. Our training has been less than ideal as far as speed-training goes. Some may use the phrase “not at all”… So the thought of finishing in under two hours (which is actually not all that fast when one considers how fast summa these people go, but it’s fast for me!) was just that - a thought. Plus, I did not eat very well yesterday… Continue reading ‘Broke it.’

Because, *ahem* I kinda rock.

Before I begin, I feel I should state, I am not AT ALL full of myself… I am innately gracious and humble and meek… I would never draft a post about all My wisdom… My wonderfuliciousness… My prodigal and creative vocabulary… My penchant toward things philosophical… My uncanny ability to use the triple period to evoke conversational pause in a written setting… Ya know. Yes. It feels really good to be So. Completely. Unpretentious.

While I am a naturally humble person, I know that you - My Internet, My Friends - all want to know about the newest excitement in My life. I know you do. And I am here for You. This blog here, it may seem that it is all about Me, but it is really all about You… allaboutYoureadingallaboutMe…

Today I was:

Woohoo! Woo! Hoo! Click here for My inspirational and insightful quote. Click here for the post that contained the quoted… umm… quote… Have You ever visited Blogtations?  Go there. Now. I’ll wait here. 

*whistling*

Does your side hurt? Have You laughed so bad You peed your pants a little? Good. It’ll do Your heart good, and laughing gives Your abs a little workout too. 

I was contacted by Musing Woman at Blogtations the other day - she asked if she could quote Me. I was all, “Uhhh - YEAH!” And started visiting the site a bunch because I have this thing about laughing, and I laughed and laughed and laughed… I am hooked. This gal reads lots of blog, finds quotables and posts them… she explains it better - here. I like it when someone does all the work for Me.

Now, I hate doing this, because of My innate bent toward humility-n-such, but it appears Blogtations has set a little awardy-type contest in place. Folks can vote for their favorite quote of the month (even year) and the winner wins bragging rights. I know, I know, I do not brag. That’s just not how I roll… but if you vote for Me and I win, I wouldn’t dream of insulting My voters by turning down this “bragging right”… because, after all, My blog is all about You…

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Party shortcuts: a few ideas on a Strawberry Shortcake party.

As I age, my standards get lower and lower and lower. Kind of like my… whatever…. 

My first child’s first birthday party had 2 character cakes (Bob & Larry of VeggieTales), goody bags, a BBQ with homemade salads, hand chopped produce, homemade side dishes, and hand made invitations as well as thank you cards… and like, 50 people.

Then there was his 8th birthday party - the one that was 4 months AFTER his birthday.

I’m thinking moderation is key. Joel’s first birthday was one extreme, his 8th was another. Funny how these events reflect the state of My mind… uber mania vs. uber guilt.

Continue reading ‘Party shortcuts: a few ideas on a Strawberry Shortcake party.’

The Exciting Journey That Is: Potty Training

My daughter is 3. She is not potty trained. But she tells us immediately after she’s peed in her diaper.

I PEED!

Yup. You know you envy me.

Yesterday, she was having a hard time going, #2. It was such hard work that she fell asleep while sitting at the kitchen table drinking apple juice - in hopes of making the task of “clearing the passage” a bit “smoother”.

When she woke up I suggested we move her to the potty and try there…

Continue reading ‘The Exciting Journey That Is: Potty Training’

A Local Band

My man and I saw a band with some friends not too long ago… I wrote about it here. Word on the street was, Blozulfog-n-Me landed a spot in the photo montage on their MySpace page. 

Upon hearing this news, I lunged at My computer to check on My reputation. Nothing inappropriate happened, but Holy Schnikey’s of all Creation! I have braces and a decent picture with these bad boys are few and far between. I was prayin’ they didn’t catch me in “a moment” where I was lookin’ all “Silence of the Lambs”ish. This look happens. All. The. Time. Braces do my face/smile no favors. AND I tend to dance with my mouth open. I can’t help it. An abundance of oxygen in necessary to bust a proper move. A girl has gotta get air!

So here’s the pic:

Great Laudations! No brace-face, nor arm wag! Instead you see: Blozulfog on the left and Jennyonthespot on the right. Blozulfog has such great hair - gorgeous red and curly. It looks like Blozulfog is clapping. Oh, Clapping - that’s good dance floor stuff right thar. I look like I am whistling. No… Wait… I can’t whistle with my fingers… Does that mean I am picking my nose? Awesome.

Maybe I was playing the air tambourine. I play a WICKED air tambourine… Yeah, let’s go with that…