I outsmarted myself again! Yes, I do appear to be good at this. Unfortunately, I've not yet found a way to make it profitable, more's the pity.
My boots came - Ooooh, I'm going to love these boots. But I have to put their lovely little black selves back into the box and ship them back to Danner (well, to be fair, Danner's sent a return sticker). I had been going to go with the 8 to begin with but my sneakers (which are a men's 8) are just a hair too short so I figured I'd better go with the 8.5. Apparently, Danners run a bit longer than New Balance and they're just that much too long. My heels slip up and down and, from years spent hiking with my family growing up, I know that slipping boots = blisters.
So, sadly, back they go. Once the new ones arrive, I ship them back to Danner's recraft department for stretching in the balls (of the feet, Jade, of the feet!). I can understand Danner wanting me to try on the boots before requesting they be stretched. It makes excellent business sense. My lack of patience, however, does not understand excellent business sense, however, so I'm pouting. ;)
And lusting... after my own boots. I am such a dork!
Apr 22, 2010
Apr 21, 2010
The I Gave Up On Zumba Playlist
I may have mentioned before that I was trying Zumba and have come to the conclusion that, unless one is in no need of Zumba, one will be no good at Zumba. So, I gave up. No, no, not totally, just sort of. I've taken the idea of Zumba (exercise via dance with handweights) and put it to music that requires less coordination (because, honestly?, I don't have enough coordination to spare for Latinesque hip movements). (Including links because some of this music I know some of my friends won't know...)
Under the Bridge, Red Hot Chili Peppers
warm up with my handy dandy zumba toning sticks by tossing and catching them end over end while bopping to the music - I have trouble with my hand strength and this works that and my wrists as well as my eye-hand coordination.
Rockstar, Nickelback
tricep pumps with light handweights (currently at 3.5 pounds per arm) while side stepping - I'm finding this works my biceps as well
Stand, REM
Hips move in a figure eight, with the leading hip moving forward and out first.
F.N.T., Semisonic
I love this song. One of my all time favorites. handweights, side bends to work abs while sweeping the same arm outward
Does Your Mother Know?, Christine Baranski/Mamma Mia! Soundtrack
great high energy dance number - I make a real fool of myself dancing to this one.
Total Eclipse of the Heart, Bonnie Tyler
figure 8s on the hips again, but with the hip scooping backward and out first instead of forward
Kingsword, Heather Dale
Great song about the creation of the Arthurian sword-in-the-stone legend. toe bounces - absolutely brutal on the backs of the calves
Holding Out for a Hero, Bonnie Tyler
Not quite sure how I wound up with two Bonnie Tyler songs but they both work so... tapping the heels in front - knees bent (actually, I spend just about the whole workout as deep in my knees as I can - strengthen those knee stabilizers and the quads)
Never Say Never, Styx
Ok, this is the only one that's not quite working for me. I do a standard dance floor "side-together" kind of thing here and this song isn't quite fast enough nor is it slow enough to doubletime the step. Going to have to replace it - open to ideas if anyone has any!
Danger Zone, Top Gun Soundtrack
hammer curls with handweights and side steps/bounces - going to have to up the weight on this soon. May just use a second set as I'm damn sure I can't manage a whole song's worth of the tricep things with a higher weight yet.
Chelsea Morning, Rebecca Luker
Great imagery in the song which I need by this point! Knees bent - hips side to side - you would not believe how much this makes my inner thighs burn!! Ow!!
Closing Time, Semisonic
time to stretch after 40 minutes of keeping my heartrate up.
There it is. Looks pretty damn lame when I type it out.
Under the Bridge, Red Hot Chili Peppers
warm up with my handy dandy zumba toning sticks by tossing and catching them end over end while bopping to the music - I have trouble with my hand strength and this works that and my wrists as well as my eye-hand coordination.
Rockstar, Nickelback
tricep pumps with light handweights (currently at 3.5 pounds per arm) while side stepping - I'm finding this works my biceps as well
Stand, REM
Hips move in a figure eight, with the leading hip moving forward and out first.
F.N.T., Semisonic
I love this song. One of my all time favorites. handweights, side bends to work abs while sweeping the same arm outward
Does Your Mother Know?, Christine Baranski/Mamma Mia! Soundtrack
great high energy dance number - I make a real fool of myself dancing to this one.
Total Eclipse of the Heart, Bonnie Tyler
figure 8s on the hips again, but with the hip scooping backward and out first instead of forward
Kingsword, Heather Dale
Great song about the creation of the Arthurian sword-in-the-stone legend. toe bounces - absolutely brutal on the backs of the calves
Holding Out for a Hero, Bonnie Tyler
Not quite sure how I wound up with two Bonnie Tyler songs but they both work so... tapping the heels in front - knees bent (actually, I spend just about the whole workout as deep in my knees as I can - strengthen those knee stabilizers and the quads)
Never Say Never, Styx
Ok, this is the only one that's not quite working for me. I do a standard dance floor "side-together" kind of thing here and this song isn't quite fast enough nor is it slow enough to doubletime the step. Going to have to replace it - open to ideas if anyone has any!
Danger Zone, Top Gun Soundtrack
hammer curls with handweights and side steps/bounces - going to have to up the weight on this soon. May just use a second set as I'm damn sure I can't manage a whole song's worth of the tricep things with a higher weight yet.
Chelsea Morning, Rebecca Luker
Great imagery in the song which I need by this point! Knees bent - hips side to side - you would not believe how much this makes my inner thighs burn!! Ow!!
Closing Time, Semisonic
time to stretch after 40 minutes of keeping my heartrate up.
There it is. Looks pretty damn lame when I type it out.
Apr 19, 2010
Their Clothes Are Out of Style and the Road Shows on Their Faces
A friend and I have been talking lately about liking or disliking people we've never met. We appear to be in the minority in that we both believe that how can we like or dislike someone we don't know. Oh, we can like or dislike their behavior we've heard about but without knowing the motivation behind the behavior, without knowing the personality, the impeti (impetuses?) that created the motivation, how can we truly like or dislike the person?
I think part of my inclination toward knowing people before making a decision too is that I was such a sheep growing up - tried so damn hard to be who my parents (i.e., my mom) wanted me to be. People judged me without ever talking to me. They assumed I was stuck up because I was quiet, booksmart, and (tremendously) clumsy when I was really just shy and too scared of my parents to break the rules.
When I was in 8th grade, apparently, Mark Z was smoking in the back of language arts class. We were all called down to the principal's office individually and asked about it. People assumed I'd told on him, which I hadn't. One, Mark Z was one scary son-of-a-bitch and I would've thought long and hard about telling on him (he was quick to the fists) even if I were so inclined but, more importantly, two, I had no knowledge or even any idea that he had been smoking. He sat in the very back, I was in the second row from the front. I adored my 8th grade LA teacher and paid a lot of attention in class (unlike math class where I read Star Trek books tucked inside my math book) so my brain was occupied by other things. The principal pushed me pretty hard to say something too; I'm sure he thought I was covering for Mark. That's what really frosted the whole episode. The adults assumed I was holding out on them and the kids assumed I was selling them out. Just totally fucking sucked.
Interestingly, with 25 years perspective on this, I think Mark was actually probably just a rebel but he seemed to have a code of ethics (compared to Dennis M. who kicked me in the crotch with steel-toed boots as I walked out of social studies for no apparent reason - I couldn't pee properly for at least a week from the bruising). Mark, at least, had the guts to confront me about supposedly telling on him rather than just say stuff behind my back and he had the honor to really listen to me when I told him I hadn't; my feeling is that I think he saw underneath to someone who was having just as hard a time though from the opposite end. I think we actually understood each other better than most maybe. The rest of the school? Not so much.
I've been thinking about this, though, and I realize I do tend to make judgments about people before I really know them (though not before I've met them). I have to fight to keep myself from doing it. It's not that I automatically dislike people; it's that I automatically distrust them. Not in the sense that they might do me physical damage (in fact, if you ask my husband, I seem to have a rabid disregard for my own physical safety), but in the sense that they are probably going to make fun of me somehow, hurt me emotionally. I seem to approach life with the view that everyone out there is going to dislike me automatically and do what they can to belittle me to the world.
I realize this springs from the years of people yelling "boogerpicker" or "cunt" or whatever at me in the halls, from the time kids dumped my purse in the toilet in the boys room in 6th grade, from the stealing of my lunch, knocking me down, mimicking my rather distinctive walk, making fun of people who tried to be nice to me, from the time after time they set me up to be humiliated publicly. It's only now, at nearly 43, that I'm starting to reach beyond that, to try to view new people as potential friends as opposed to potential purveyors of cruelty.
Despite all that, I have to at least have met/talked to someone to decide whether I like or dislike them. I go on my gut. And, to be perfectly honest, I trust my gut a LOT more than I trust other people's assessments of folks.
Hmm, I'm thinking I really need to work on this trust thing, huh?
~~~
"Not Born to Beauty (Born to Rock)" The Bacon Brothers
I think part of my inclination toward knowing people before making a decision too is that I was such a sheep growing up - tried so damn hard to be who my parents (i.e., my mom) wanted me to be. People judged me without ever talking to me. They assumed I was stuck up because I was quiet, booksmart, and (tremendously) clumsy when I was really just shy and too scared of my parents to break the rules.
When I was in 8th grade, apparently, Mark Z was smoking in the back of language arts class. We were all called down to the principal's office individually and asked about it. People assumed I'd told on him, which I hadn't. One, Mark Z was one scary son-of-a-bitch and I would've thought long and hard about telling on him (he was quick to the fists) even if I were so inclined but, more importantly, two, I had no knowledge or even any idea that he had been smoking. He sat in the very back, I was in the second row from the front. I adored my 8th grade LA teacher and paid a lot of attention in class (unlike math class where I read Star Trek books tucked inside my math book) so my brain was occupied by other things. The principal pushed me pretty hard to say something too; I'm sure he thought I was covering for Mark. That's what really frosted the whole episode. The adults assumed I was holding out on them and the kids assumed I was selling them out. Just totally fucking sucked.
Interestingly, with 25 years perspective on this, I think Mark was actually probably just a rebel but he seemed to have a code of ethics (compared to Dennis M. who kicked me in the crotch with steel-toed boots as I walked out of social studies for no apparent reason - I couldn't pee properly for at least a week from the bruising). Mark, at least, had the guts to confront me about supposedly telling on him rather than just say stuff behind my back and he had the honor to really listen to me when I told him I hadn't; my feeling is that I think he saw underneath to someone who was having just as hard a time though from the opposite end. I think we actually understood each other better than most maybe. The rest of the school? Not so much.
I've been thinking about this, though, and I realize I do tend to make judgments about people before I really know them (though not before I've met them). I have to fight to keep myself from doing it. It's not that I automatically dislike people; it's that I automatically distrust them. Not in the sense that they might do me physical damage (in fact, if you ask my husband, I seem to have a rabid disregard for my own physical safety), but in the sense that they are probably going to make fun of me somehow, hurt me emotionally. I seem to approach life with the view that everyone out there is going to dislike me automatically and do what they can to belittle me to the world.
I realize this springs from the years of people yelling "boogerpicker" or "cunt" or whatever at me in the halls, from the time kids dumped my purse in the toilet in the boys room in 6th grade, from the stealing of my lunch, knocking me down, mimicking my rather distinctive walk, making fun of people who tried to be nice to me, from the time after time they set me up to be humiliated publicly. It's only now, at nearly 43, that I'm starting to reach beyond that, to try to view new people as potential friends as opposed to potential purveyors of cruelty.
Despite all that, I have to at least have met/talked to someone to decide whether I like or dislike them. I go on my gut. And, to be perfectly honest, I trust my gut a LOT more than I trust other people's assessments of folks.
Hmm, I'm thinking I really need to work on this trust thing, huh?
~~~
"Not Born to Beauty (Born to Rock)" The Bacon Brothers
Apr 15, 2010
SEATTLE!!!
John had his first jury trial in nearly 20 years of practice (he's a civil lawyer, not a criminal defense one) this week. He won.
I can't say how proud I am of him. He was so stressed out about it and the guy is a good friend of ours, a steeplejack, who has been unable to work for ages due to a car accident that the other driver admits was the other driver's fault. So proud of him, not just for winning, but for facing up to his nerves and doing it anyway.
Good job, Buddy; I love you.
I can't say how proud I am of him. He was so stressed out about it and the guy is a good friend of ours, a steeplejack, who has been unable to work for ages due to a car accident that the other driver admits was the other driver's fault. So proud of him, not just for winning, but for facing up to his nerves and doing it anyway.
Good job, Buddy; I love you.
Apr 14, 2010
Creative Boot Financing...
For my birthday, I am getting a ridiculously expensive pair of boots. Lest you think I am indulging in my inner girly girl (which would be a reasonable assumption given my taste in shoes), I am not. I have realized that, now I no longer work where I need to wear suits to work, I do not need another pair of cute heels. Sigh. (SIGH!)
I am, however, getting a pair of boots that makes me want to drool for a whole different reason. I have wanted boots like these since I was at least 16 or 17. My mother, even now, will be horrified... truly horrified. I think my husband wonders what happened to the meek little geek he married (the meek is fading, the geek? Not so much.) but he seems to love me anyway - what a saint! I'm pretty sure my sister will think I've lost it totally. My friends, though, even if it's not what they'd choose for themselves, they understand. Yes, I am getting combat boots for my birthday.
Well, partially for my birthday... the things are just as expensive as my Stuart Weitzman ankle boots. My darling husband (and, in this case, I mean that absolutely sincerely) is donating $100 toward the cause, then I've traded our family checkbook all my personal Target/Best Buy/random-other-places-the-family-spends-money giftcards that I've been hoarding over the last 3 years for $150 cash (what can I say, giftcards are a great gift for me, I love them but I just don't have time to shop!). Then, I figure the remainder (which is actually just extra support insoles and boot blacking) can fit into the budget.
I feel a bit like I'm pretending. These are the boots. They're the real deal. (They were recommended to me by a couple of people, including my friend Tina who, despite being on desk duty since she had her second child, still takes the occasional overtime traffic gig.) What right does a distinctly unathletic suburban mother of 3 with no connection to (other than friends in) the police or the military to wear such boots?
But, you know, I'm doing it anyway. Even if it does mean I ate a bowl of crunchy dumbass for breakfast. I am tired of falling on my butt when my tennis shoes hit anything remotely slick. I am tired of wrenching my ankles on the potholes in our driveway and just about every other paved surface in New England. I am tired of my back killing me after standing around watching the kids outside. Thus, good workboots. Why this pair in particular? (Uh oh, the geek is escaping...) They look like the boots from Stargate. ::crams geek back into the encapsulated time/space rift:: And they'll look right with my cargos. (What?? You *knew* there had to be a girly girl reason in there somewhere, didn't you??) (Yeah, I wear cargos. I may look odd but, damn, they're comfortable and eminently practical pants.)
Well, at least I won't be going to the range this summer in heels...
I am, however, getting a pair of boots that makes me want to drool for a whole different reason. I have wanted boots like these since I was at least 16 or 17. My mother, even now, will be horrified... truly horrified. I think my husband wonders what happened to the meek little geek he married (the meek is fading, the geek? Not so much.) but he seems to love me anyway - what a saint! I'm pretty sure my sister will think I've lost it totally. My friends, though, even if it's not what they'd choose for themselves, they understand. Yes, I am getting combat boots for my birthday.
Well, partially for my birthday... the things are just as expensive as my Stuart Weitzman ankle boots. My darling husband (and, in this case, I mean that absolutely sincerely) is donating $100 toward the cause, then I've traded our family checkbook all my personal Target/Best Buy/random-other-places-the-family-spends-money giftcards that I've been hoarding over the last 3 years for $150 cash (what can I say, giftcards are a great gift for me, I love them but I just don't have time to shop!). Then, I figure the remainder (which is actually just extra support insoles and boot blacking) can fit into the budget.
I feel a bit like I'm pretending. These are the boots. They're the real deal. (They were recommended to me by a couple of people, including my friend Tina who, despite being on desk duty since she had her second child, still takes the occasional overtime traffic gig.) What right does a distinctly unathletic suburban mother of 3 with no connection to (other than friends in) the police or the military to wear such boots?
But, you know, I'm doing it anyway. Even if it does mean I ate a bowl of crunchy dumbass for breakfast. I am tired of falling on my butt when my tennis shoes hit anything remotely slick. I am tired of wrenching my ankles on the potholes in our driveway and just about every other paved surface in New England. I am tired of my back killing me after standing around watching the kids outside. Thus, good workboots. Why this pair in particular? (Uh oh, the geek is escaping...) They look like the boots from Stargate. ::crams geek back into the encapsulated time/space rift:: And they'll look right with my cargos. (What?? You *knew* there had to be a girly girl reason in there somewhere, didn't you??) (Yeah, I wear cargos. I may look odd but, damn, they're comfortable and eminently practical pants.)
Well, at least I won't be going to the range this summer in heels...
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