Hold on, lemme clear these tumbleweeds off this desert that is my blog:
So, hey! How ya been? Last time we chatted, I was still ten days out from quitting my job. All the stuff since then. Said my goodbyes to work and to Colorado, trekked across the country in a U-Haul. Saw some absosmurfly hilarious stuff along the way. (I’m looking at you pseudo-Ruff Ryders with no DMX, drinking chardonnay.) Tons of lightning bugs in Kansas. Crazy rainstorms. Billboards with zombie Jesus. More than a normal amount of dead armadillos. Unrecognizable road kill. And HUGE, like YUUUGE (and yes, I’m using that for a reason) confederate flags. (See what I did there?)
We’re all settled in now and have made our first trip to Busch Gardens, which, of course, was oh so important for me since I have an adrenaline problem. After packing up the whole house in Colorado, and having to switch the plan like three times, needless to say, exhaustion was present. We hired some guys to do the unpacking on this side. Or, at least to bring the stuff into the house and bring the heavy stuff upstairs. Yes, I was thrilled to not have to deal with that mess. With two U-Boxes, we had those suckers unpacked in less than a day. Our new neighbors were stunned that we had them out of the way so quickly, not that they were in anyone’s way. We’re still not quite in “season” yet, so half of our neighborhood isn’t here. That’s the Florida life. Six months of too many people and six months of no waiting in line for anything.
It hasn’t been all fun and games though. Along the way, I did some studying, got kinda nervous, nailed it anyway, aaaaaaaaannnnnndddd:
Yup, licensed Realtor down here in Florida. Of course, a nod to the Club Med days since so much of real estate is shaking hands and kissing babies for which no other job could have prepared me better. Now, let’s not get it twisted, there is SO MUCH knowledge to ingest. Like, my calendar is starting to look like I’m a college student. I have/have had ten classes to take that are mandatory. I’ve gotten two under my belt and the majority of the others scheduled. And pshhhh, let’s not even talk about the other training that I’m doing. Every day I’m learning something new. All the while, I’m turning into a networking machine. Hey, hi, how ya doin? What do you do? Oh great! That’s cool. Me? I’m a Realtor. Keep me in mind if you are gonna buy or sell and hey, tell a friend. I might already be able to build a castle with business cards. It’s madness and I love it! So, you know, hey, if you’re gonna buy or sell down here in Sarasota or Manatee counties, or have friends or family who are, see that pic above and share the love. 😉
Along with this new career path has come some crazy drive. And outta control dreams. For the last couple of weeks, my brain has just refused to turn off. I’ve been looking at my REM sleep on my Fitbit, and yeah, there’s a lot of it. Some dreams from when I was younger resurfaced. My dad has shown up twice. Old friends have made appearances. I think only one true nightmare, fortunately.
Sidebar on nightmares: By no means am I a strong swimmer. Like, I likely won’t drown if I get thrown in a pool (which has happened because, well, I’m a smartass), but I don’t swim for pleasure and doubt I would last long in open water. So, I have a healthy fear of water, except when I’m drinking which is the worst time to be comfortable, but that’s not what this sidebar is about. As a kid, I had a few fears. World War III was pretty high up there since I grew up under the watch of Reagan SMASH! Fire and our house burning down was another, possibly because an elder relative died in a house fire. Tornadoes because those shits are just scary! Flushing other people’s toilets, simply because I was an odd child. And drowning. Of course, the recurring nightmare was about drowning in an overflowing toilet. And always in the private school I went to through fourth grade. Yes, it’s impossible as the bathroom was far from having any sort of seal that would allow that much water to accumulate, but as I said, I was an odd child.
Even with my brain refusing to rest, my body still is, thankfully. But I’m about to put it to the test. My morning schedule has been filled with ALL the things. Today it had ten. I think that next Monday I will get to all ten. Today I only made 80%. Considering I had one of those previously mentioned mandatory classes that lasted 3 hours plus a networking lunch for another hour and a half, plus it took me like 9 hours to make dinner (ok, not 9 hours, but I would never make it on any tv show that involved making a dish in 30 minutes), I’m happy to get 8 of 10 done.
One of the 10 for today was to write. This one is important. I used to contribute to this bloggy all the time and I’ve fallen off time and again. But perhaps if I put pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard as the case may be, I’ll be able to empty out the brain a little bit and have some more chilled out sleep. Fingers crossed, y’all. Fingers crossed.
That’s all I’ve got for today. Check back tomorrow to see if I make it two in a row. I’m pulling for me, are you? Leave a comment. I like those. They’re encouraging. Even if you tell me I ramble, that’s cool cuz it’s true. Tell me something you wanna hear about. Give me a topic to write you a story. I’m down. Til then!
Well hey there! It’s great to see you again. Thanks for stopping by. 🙂
This past weekend, I had the opportunity to take a self-defense class geared towards women. I had taken the class about four years ago and figured it was time for a refresher. You see, I have somewhat of a Napoleon complex going on. I tend to think that I’m tough as nails with all 5 foot 2 of my badassery. I mean, I’m not totally off my rocker. I do know when to keep my mouth shut, but I like to believe that I could hold my own in a struggle if it came down to it…even against a man.
We spent a little over two hours in there learning some techniques that are based in krav maga. Everyone grabs a partner and we take turns holding the pad for the other partner to punch/kick. But before we got to all of that fun, we determined where our “bubble” was. in other words, how close is too close for a stranger to get. The exercise included getting into two lines and walking towards your partner until she yelled out to stop. Now, notice I said yelled. Some ladies neglected to bring their big girl voices. I hope that somewhere along the line they find those voices, especially should they ever need them. Me? Former cheerleader, tomboy, tree climber, trapeze flyer, performer with no microphone. I’m loud. And if I don’t want you near me, you’re gonna know. The instructor tells everyone, “hey, watch her and be loud like her.” I have crazy expressive eyes and when I’m in this class or possibly in danger, I just have crazy eyes. I will tell you a story with these eyes and if I don’t like what you’re up to, that story is gonna start with F*&K and end with YOU.
Anywho, we got through our brief warmup and figuring out our comfort zones. On to punching! Straight punches, heel strikes, and hammer punches, oh my! No gloves. Just blasting through that pad (and pushing my poor partner over). But ladies, you don’t just have those hands fo punching. Don’t ever be afraid or ashamed to gouge eyes and scratch faces. The overarching theme was FIGHT FOR YOUR LIFE. Whatever it takes. A well placed forehead to the bridge of the nose. Whatever. Oh, and hey, those stems! Groin kick! I tell ya, I P90X-ed the hell outta those kicks.
Last time, we learned escaping from a bear hug from behind – bend at the waist, elbow, elbow, elbow, elbow, elbow, elbow (is he off yet??), elbow, elbow, (oh he’s off now?), hammer punch to the base of your neck, hammer, hammer, hammer, groin, groin, kick, kick, kick, punch, punch. I’m done a la Wendy Testaburger. This time we worked on removing a choke hold from the front. The reality is that the move might not fully remove the assailant’s hands from your throat, but it’ll move them enough that you’ll still be able to breathe. And fight. For your life.It’s called a pluck and should almost always come along with a groin kick. Like they said in the Simpson’s, it ain’t Krav Maga if there’s no groin kick.
We do these drills for about 90 minutes before we’re ready to go to simulated attacks. We split into two groups and go into two rooms where our “attacker” is in a padded suit with a padded helmet. All of the ladies stand in a circle with one lady in the middle. They guy in the suit walks/stalks around you, saying some pretty ignorant sh!t, touching you, he pulled my hair (hard!), but you can’t react until he’s truly attacking you. Every word out of his mouth was pretty much the equivalent of overtuning the smallest string on the guitar and his hands on my neck was when the string popped.
There was a Timberwulf sighting at that moment. Pluck, kick, hammer, hammer, hammer, hammer, kick to the chest while you’re on the ground. I’m done. The instructor picked me to go first. Good to have it out of the way so I could just focus on cheering on the other ladies, and in some circumstances, providing hugs and words of encouragement like “in through your nose, out through your mouth!” because one girl was pretty close to hyperventilating. A LOT of tears were shed in that class. Some because, and this is just an educated guess, it was too real and too reminiscent of something that had already happened. Some because they just didn’t realize they had the power within themselves. And some just because like hip openers in yoga, this will just release some emotions right up outta you.
They have the class annually and I really shouldn’t let three years go in between taking it. But next time I go, I really have to remember to cool myself down better and to stretch better. Why? Class was Saturday; today is Tuesday and my shoulder is still crying. Icy Hot and Tylenol are my friends, but a little discomfot is better than not knowing how to protect myself and the options that come with that. I cannot recommend enough that every female get out there and find some sort of self-defense class and take it and take it seriously. It just might save your life.
The congregation is at a near frenzy. The thought that the good Reverend might be returning today has an excited buzz rolling through the crowd. Electrified whispers start at the front of the room and spread to the back. Suddenly, a hush falls across the room as a solitary figure steps towards the pulpit.
Good morning, my dear friends. You have been missed. Please know that the Reverend MiamiShyner has been itching to get back and speak to you. Let the congregation say ROCO.
Today, this wonderful Friday, let us talk about dancing, dancing safely, and safety meetings. We might also touch on the paranormal, but first things first: dancing. Oh yes, we all do it. Whether you admit it or not, at some point, probably today, you’ve either busted out a dance move, no matter how small. Perhaps you’re doing choreography in your head right now. If so, good on ya. If not and you haven’t even thought about busting a move today, get up and do so. I’ll wait……
Yeah, Tina. Get it.
That’s also about how I look when making attempts at dancing. Yep, I am the anti-stereotype. Black girl that can’t sing or dance and has no ass. I also hate watermelon and fried chicken isn’t high on my list of loves either. On the whole, I haven’t dated within my race (OMG, the horror!) and that’s not how I married. I contributed to the world interracial fund with a daughter and I think everyone else should too. Let the congregation say ROCO. But I digress.
Weekday mornings, I rise from my slumber and head to the yoga dungeon/workout lair/basement to visit with Shaun T. You know, you gotta love a Shaun T workout, unless it’s any of the Insanity ones in which case you can kiss the crack of my black ass. But Hip Hop Abs, Rockin Body, and Cize? Yeah. All day, every day. It’s dancing and dancing is fun. Or, at least, what I call dancing is fun.
Shaun T says everyone/anyone can dance. You know, I hate to call shenanigans on him, but I have to disagree. Everyone/anyone can follow choreography. Not everyone can dance. Like me, for instance. I can follow your choreography and get it down pretty quickly. Does that mean I look like I’m dancing? Nope. People around me might be doing the same thing and looking like they’re dancing, but I’ll look like I’m having a seizure. So, yes, everyone can follow choreography when broken down correctly, but not everyone can dance.
And I can’t dance safely. One might think for the activities in which I participate, that I would be much less of a klutz. But no, guess again. I fall over my own feet in any sort of complicated footwork, and this morning, I managed to strain my side. Dancing. Maybe I should just call what I do spazzing. The harder I try, the worse it looks, lol. You don’t believe me? Go ahead and watch that little clip below and laugh. My left side! It hurts, lol.
There you go. Proof that I can’t dance. And especially not safely.
I can, however, and have been known to in the past, ahem, conduct a safety meeting. What? I’m unapologetically me. I don’t do things to hurt others. And as long as I stay on that path, I’mma do WTF I want. Just like Eric Cartman. And, I live in Colorado, so bite me. Bite me like I’m a weed infused cookie that you’re dying to try.
Anywho, on a completely different topic, do you ever wonder if your house is haunted? When I was a kid and my great-grandfather died, we moved into his house. Now, we’re talking early 80s here. When houses were sturdy but wiring was probably questionable. After we moved in, odd stuff happened. Lights would turn off or come on of their own volition. A few electrical-type things happened, but the adults laughed it off. Once, just once, I heard an adult say that it was Grandpap doing it, but I think they also realized that I overheard that so then it became a full-on force about wiring. Adults, they’re crazy. Kids, they know the paranormal truth.
Jump ahead about 30 years and here we are in this house. We really know nothing of the history of it, and fortunately a Google search doesn’t turn up anything. However, the reality is that this neighborhood is basically a retirement community which means the probability of someone having passed under this roof is probably high. Not anything to be frightened of in my book. Many were the times I went into my grandparents’ house after my grandfather had passed there. I lived in my parents’ house after my father passed there. And now, on occasion, I hear people talking (and I make sure it’s not the landscapers) or I’ll hear music when I know that it isn’t coming from anything I’m doing nor anything my neighbors are doing. Fun, right?? I’m still waiting to experience something definite. I’ll let you know.
In the meantime, however, I’m off to do some Friday-type shit. Wishing you all a good weekend and a better Pittsburgh sports night tonight than last night was. #cutScobee
Yep, when I’m posting blogs after 8 in the evening, I’m way off schedule. I was a considerable fail this morning as far as writing in the blog although I did catch up on writing for the lab and paying bills. So, I’m actually gonna retract that fail and call it a win. Because I’m good enough; I’m smart enough; and gosh darn it, people like me!
It’s pretty crazy that I live in Colorado, we get 3 inches of snow, and everyone drives like they just got here from Hawaii. I saw one person completely lost their sh!t in the sharpest corner in the area. Cops and a tow truck for you! Some folks driving way too fast, some way too slow. But no hassles for the brown bomber…either one of us.
Speaking of Colorado, and Denver in particular, they are all about their Broncos here! Granted, they don’t really have the fervor that Steelers fans have all year round, but it’s a good showing for them. Since Peyton’s certainly gonna win it, I wonder if he’ll go back-to-back and then call it or try one more time and hope for the double. You know how I love a conspiracy theory.
A mere 200 words before I’m tapped out. That’s kinda sad. However, while these posts are shrinking, I think my writing lab ones are growing within their confines. I’m ok with that. So ok that I’m gonna call it a night and maybe I’ll have some super nutty dream to tell you about in the morning. G’night.
This poor, neglected blog. I’m surprised it even lets me sign in any more. It probably wouldn’t were it not for Google Chrome being smart. At times, I don’t post because I just don’t have anything to say or I’m being lazy. This time, that is not the case. I’ve actually been too busy to breathe. Even as I type this, I’m counting the minutes until I need to leave the house again. I think the best way to catch up on what’s happened in August is……..bulletpoints!
So, you see, I’ve been quite busy. You should see my iPhone calendar. August was crazy. A dot on more than half of the days. September is currently only holding 11 dots, but hey, it’s only the first! If you can believe it, I’m still trying to find time to prepare for a student showcase around mid-month which will be my first public pole performance, get to the boxing gym a little more regularly, and write. I still have a couple of ideas for books that I need to get on paper…or computer.This is my stolen time. The time before I absolutely MUST get up and get ready for work (where I can throw on jeans and a t-shirt and flip-flops and be appropriately dressed) but after the alarm has gone off. The quiet time. The only time I have for writing. But again, I say that I will try to find this time more often. And perhaps I will since fun stuff is actually going on. Even now, there is more stuff happening, but, dear reader, there’s only so much I’ll bombard you with in one sitting. We’re already at a thousand words for this post. So with that, I will leave you, wishing you a happy September, a happy, long, Labor Day weekend, a working air conditioner if you’re here in CO with me (we’ll be breaking a temperature record today…97 in September), and just lots of fun, love, and happiness. Go forth and caterpillar climb!
- As a member of Imperial Flyers, we put on an awesome amateur circus show. No one got (seriously) injured and that always makes for a good time. Threw two tricks, caught two tricks. That’s a win in my book. Videos can be seen here.
- We passed our one year in Colorado/one year in our house milestone. It isn’t “our house” since it’s a rental, but it’s definitely our house. 🙂
- I went on a work retreat to Estes Park. It was really great to get to meet our near-shore development team from Mexico and our developers who are right here in the Denver area. We had a blast hanging around and talking and playing games. And drinking. And talking about the most ridiculous stuff ever. Have you de-wormed yourself lately?
- We made an appearance at my company’s picnic, for which I made some awesome pound cake cupcakes. The cupcakes started the weekend baking binge. The following weekend I made zucchini bread since one of Lovey’s co-workers had way too much zucchini and squash. It was so, so yummy. Lovey took a loaf to work and I got a few requests for my recipe. Yay me!
- WORK! If you’ve followed this blog at all in the previous years or if you have the time/energy to go back through the archives, you’ll know that my work situation in Miami was just to the left of awful. It was a toxic situation wherein, at one point, I was so stressed out that I was having what I called hobo dinner – a scoop of peanut butter and a beer. Well. All that has changed. My current job is the COMPLETE opposite of where I was. I enjoy my job. I get up in the mornings and I’m excited to go to work. I have piles and piles of things to do. My intelligence and willingness to help are acknowledged and appreciated. Oh yeah, and then there’s that fast track I’m on to be the manager of my little group and possibly a couple others. I’m doing some online classes through work to brush up on my management skills. I’m learning another of our lines of business. And just the other day, I found out that I’ll be shooting over from App Support to QA full time for the remainder of the year. We’re looking at quite possibly the beginning of the year for wheels to start not just turning, but peeling out with posi-traction. Funny also that my boss lives within a 5 minute walk from my house and her boys go to the school down the street from my house. It is really great to enjoy my job again. It’s no Don Pablo’s and it’s no Club Med, but it’s probably as close as I’ll get in “corporate America”. Also, I get to work from home two days a week. WIN!
- POLE! If you came here through Facebook, you’ve seen my profile picture and you know that I do a little pole dancing. It’s the closest thing to circus without having a trapeze in the house. I started in Miami with the lovely Michelle Meier, currently of Iron Flower Fitness. I have infinite thanks for Michelle, because, had it been any other instructor, other than the equally wonderful Marissa Alma Nick, I doubt that my pole journey would have come this far. Where Michelle gave me my base, Marissa inspired me to move more gracefully. Both ladies were just so instrumental, if you’re in Miami, living or just visiting, do yourself a favor and go visit them. Fast forward a few years past Miami and I’ve found a new place to hone my craft – Boulder Spirals. Sasha and Melanie just couldn’t be any more supportive, warm, and welcoming. And let’s not forget wildly intelligent, because they did, after all, select me to work through their Apprentice training. That’s right, I’m currently making my way towards being able (I think I’ve always been able, I’m just receiving the opportunity) to spread my love for pole dancing, fitness, and giving women an opportunity to step out of their usual box and feel strong, sexy, and empowered.