2009

Running Away to Join the Circus

It’s something I’ve actually sorta kinda done, although not really on purpose.

I won’t bore you with those details of how it happened, that’s for another post, but let’s just say that I started off as a bartender and ended up, well, running away and joining the circus.

Have you ever done something one time and then been hooked on it and unable to get it out of your system? That’s how the circus got to me. It started off on the flying trapeze, then moved to single trapeze, swinging trapeze, Spanish web, and to a lesser degree, double trapeze. I wanted to learn more. I wanted to fly higher. I wanted to do it all. And I did and it was good.

Here’s a little secret: If you want to get in the best shape, possibly of your life, get yourself into some circus classes and take it seriously. It’ll take a while, but you will get ripped. There was a point in time where I looked at myself in the mirror and said, “This isn’t cute.” I was monstrous across the back.

Anywho, the time came when I just couldn’t bear to put my liver through another six months of the heavy bag AKA Club Med. There were some great memories and I met some great people, the memories to take, the people to keep in touch with, but the circus! How to take it along?

I found small outlets here and there to get my circus fix. It was never enough. (And it was hardly ever free) I kept at it nonetheless. Because that’s what happens when you have an addiction. Both my fiance (Lovey) and my daughter (Kiddo) have given the circus a go-round to some extent. Lovey can do without it; Kiddo loves it although not with my passion. What I really wanted was a way to incorporate family + circus so I can have all the circus I want without the guilt of being away from them.

Two weeks ago, I finally got my wish. In a random conversation, I mentioned that it would be pretty cool if Lovey and I could do double trapeze together. While I expected him to just nod it off, he agreed that it would be pretty neat but said that he was in no shape for it. I told him that I did the majority of the work in the act. But, But, BUT, the conversation got him motivated to get back in the gym! Hooray! And, And, AND, Kiddo is joining in the fun as well!

Now we have family workout/stretching time after work/school and I am well on my way to not running away to join the circus, but instead bringing the circus to me. 😀

Don’t It Make My Brown Eyes…Something

Ahhh, I am a sucker for a new product. I can’t help myself. I alone am the reson that gum and candy bars are right by the register. My sucker-ness is also the reason that credit cards stay locked up at home and I don’t carry cash. So don’t try to mug me because all you’re getting is some loose change and a bad attitude. (And possibly a swift kick to the groin.)

So when I saw Rhianna hawking Cover Girl’s new Exact Eyelights, knowing that I always look like I got punched in both eyes, I figured I’d give it a shot. I suppose I was expecting a miracle product so my expectations were high.

They have an entire line of stuff. Eye shadows, mascara and eyeliner. If you didn’t know, the premise is that their product, which has different color schemes for different eye colors, is supposed to make your eyes look brighter.

Herein lies the problem, at least for me. There’s no color scheme for black eyes. I don’t mean black as in of the African American persuasion, I mean black as in so dark brown that if you aren’t shining a light in there, they look black. Of course, it didn’t stop me from trying it out.

I want you to know that these two photos are something that would usually immediately hit the recycle bin but for the purpose of the review, I’m going to force you to look at me. It’s before and after.

Hmmph. Well, I look like hell in both of them, and the lighting is slightly different although they were taken in the same place within minutes of each other, but, I’m not seeing any super difference in the eye area. I’ll still probably buy the eye shadows to check them out and because I love eye shadow but I don’t know that I can give this product the InShynesMind Seal of Approval. Yet.

What do you think?

Dirty mouth?

No, this isn’t about swearing or why you had to click that you agree to get here. 🙂

It’s about this:

Certainly you’ve seen the Orbit chick in her white outfit telling you how awesome Orbit is in every way, shape or form. Well, I’m here to tell you that, for this product at least, she ain’t lyin’.

I don’t chew a lot of gum (wrinkles, ya’ll!) or at least when I do chew it, it isn’t for long. But this makes me wanna leave the one I’m with! There is a certain segment of the population, ahem 420, that is really gonna love this gum.

I chew a piece of minty gum in the morning after my coffee because I don’t want to monster mouth anyone at work. That gum, however, becomes a dry rock in my mouth after about five minutes. Not so with the Orbit. It’s yummy, it stays soft for a long time, and damned if it doesn’t keep the mouth hydrated like a champ! Honestly, I hate to spit it out. I have yet to chew it until it runs out of flavor and/or hydration and I think I’ve chewed it for at least an hour at a stretch.

As such, Orbit Mist gets the InShynesMind seal of approval.

I Wanna Be A Whale

This little gem was too good not to be passed on.

Recently, in large French city, a poster featuring a young, thin and tan woman appeared in the window of a gym. It said:

“THIS SUMMER DO YOU WANT TO BE A MERMAID OR A WHALE?”

A middle aged woman, whose physical characteristics did not match those of the woman on the poster, responded publicly to the question posed by the gym.

To Whom It May Concern:

Whales are always surrounded by friends (dolphins, sea lions, curious humans). They have active sex lives, they get pregnant, and they have adorable baby whales. They have a wonderful time with dolphins, stuffing themselves with shrimp. They play and swim in the seas, seeing wonderful places like Patagonia, the Bering Sea and the coral reefs of Polynesia. Whales are wonderful singers and have even recorded CDs. They are incredible creatures and have virtually no predators other than humans. They are loved, protected and admired by almost everyone in the world.

Mermaids don’t exist. If they did exist, they would be lining up outside the offices of Argentinean psychoanalysts due to identity crisis. Fish or human? They don’t have a sex life because they kill men who get close to them — not to mention, how could they have sex? Therefore they do not have kids. Not to mention, who wants to get close to a girl who smells like a fish store?

The choice is perfectly clear to me; I want to be a whale.

P.S. We are in an age when media puts into our heads the idea that only skinny people are beautiful, but I prefer to enjoy an ice cream with my kids, a good dinner with a man who makes me shiver and a coffee with my friends. With time, we gain weight because we accumulate so much information and wisdom in our heads that, when there is no more room, it distributes out to the rest of our bodies. So we aren’t heavy, we are enormously cultured, educated, and happy. Beginning today, when I look at my butt in the mirror I will think,”Good gosh, look how smart I am!!”

While the cat’s away….

From my name, I’m sure that you can deduce that I live in the city of Miami. Like many other cities across the country, many, many homes are currently in foreclosure. It just so happens that the house next door to us is one of these homes.

Currently, the grass is growing up pretty high. It’s somewhat of a haven for mosquitoes. Granted, we have a 6 foot privacy fence, but those don’t deter critters. We haven’t made much of a stink about the maintenance of the house because, well, for the most part, we can’t see it. But, and there’s always a but, something happened to change our point of view.

Let’s rewind the clock about a week. Lovey* and I had just returned from vacation. Road weary from our 45 minute trip (yes, that’s sarcasm), we entered our abode with plans of putting things away and then resting. First stop, the kitchen to put away the remaining booze.

As I enter the kitchen, the first thing that I notice is that my package of bread is on the floor. Mind you, this isn’t a big loaf of bread, it’s a small package of round sandwich bread all healthy and stuff. And it’s on the floor. Which is not where I left it.

I picked up my bread and wondered why the heck it was on the floor. Lovey took the bag from me and deposited it in the garbage. On the way to the garbage can, however, he noticed that there were some holes in the bag. A mouse. Grrrr.

Now, let me say this. I run a clean house. Yes, it’s dusty occasionally and there may be a fur tumbleweed because the dog perpetually sheds, but overall, we’re clean and I have never seen a rodent in the house in the 4.5 years that I’ve been living there.

We don’t see our new “house guest” anywhere so we proceed to unpack. Not long goes by before Lovey hears some rustling behind the dryer and it is there we find the culprit. The bread bag chewer. The mouse turd dropper. And it’s a tiny little thing. But still, it is not welcome. So we set a mouse trap for the little bugger.

Turns out that it got in through the dryer vent and chewed through the hose! Determined little bastard. Apparently, someone disturbed its habitat next door so it came to see what else it could find. Well, my dear mouse, a mistake you have made.

Don’t go all PETA on me here. Lovey decided he would try to shoot the mouse with his BB gun. My only thought was ‘man, that thing is gonna EXPLODE!’ Fortunately, he missed and the mouse went back to hide. Woo! No cleaning up mouse guts!

A trip to Home Depot for a new dryer vent proved uneventful and we were fairly certain that the mouse had gone back outside, so the vent was installed, the trap was set, and we basically forgot about it. All of this happened on Saturday.

No sign of mousey on Sunday.

Monday morning, I was up early, getting my workout on downstairs. While I was letting the dog do her thing outside, I went to do my thing inside. I turned on the bathroom light and nearly shit myself as what to my wondering eyes did appear? A little brown mouse trying to get out of the toilet. Awwwww. FLUSH!

(Did you think I was gonna pull that thing out of the toilet?!?!)

One courtesy flush later, I was still a little scared to sit on the toilet. Who wants a wet angry mouse to bite their ass?

I think they can swim. I wonder where it ended up. Wherever it is, it has a great mouse story to tell its friends.

2009

Running Away to Join the Circus

Don’t It Make My Brown Eyes…Something

Dirty mouth?

I Wanna Be A Whale

While the cat’s away….

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