In Shynes Mind

Krav Maga

Well hey there! It’s great to see you again. Thanks for stopping by. ūüôā

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.

ROCO Friday – Safety Meetings

 

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.

*clears throat*

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……

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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

 

 

Off Schedule

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.

Where DOES the time go?!?!

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!

  • 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. ūüôā
  • 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.
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!

Victory is mine!

Maybe you have this where you live, maybe you don’t. ¬†What is this? ¬†Why, it’s Peter Pan Honey Roast Peanut Butter. ¬†It is so m-f-ing delicious. ¬†It’s right behind bacon delicious. ¬†I fell in love with this PB while living in Miami.

I somehow completely forgot that just because something is in a store in one place that it might not be in a store in another place.  I just thought that I could have my PB anywhere.  Sadly, I was mistaken.  Upon our arrival, needed to find a new grocery store, preferably one that carried our PB.  We tried out King Soopers (a Kroger affiliate), Safeway, a Super WalMart (otherwise known as the evil empire), and Super Target.  No one had my beloved.

Lovey and I even went as far as to go to the ConAgra website to see if we could find it anywhere and to our sheer surprise, there were no stores in Colorado carrying this peanut butter!  Devastation!!

Well, we chose Target as the grocery store of choice and about once a month on our receipt we’d get a “fill out this survey for the chance to win a gift card” website. ¬†Free gift cards can’t be beat so every time I’d go fill out the survey. ¬†At the end of the survey, there was always a free text section for comments. ¬†Every time, I told them that I wanted my peanut butter. ¬†Every. ¬†Time. ¬†For the last nine months.

Imagine my surprise when this past weekend we turned the corner into the peanut butter isle and…….Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Conway Twitty.

 

 

 

My long lost peanut butter found its way back to me!!  *does a happy dance*

Also, I am totally taking the credit for bringing this peanut butter delicacy to Colorado.

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