No Mind Monday

I think it’s time for a round of The Last Samurai.

Lovey’s gotta go out of town so I’m trying to focus on happy things rather than being bummed.  Stuff like:

  • I have at least 5 episodes of American Horror Story to catch up on
  • Oh, the DVR is just full of stuff I need to catch up on
  • It’s a perfect time to give the house a nice, deep clean
  • I get to hit the studio four days in a row this week
  • Hey, we have happy hour this week too
  • Bow chicka bow wow upon return

This time next week, I’ll be concentrating on writing. And perhaps some Malibu with mango-pineapple juice because that’s what we do when we do what we do.

Aaaaaand I was just thinking that I would skip boxing today since I have a couple hours planned in the studio tonight, but a co-worker is interested in going so boxing it is. At least ill be seriuosly wiped out and ready for bed later.

I guess that’s all I have for this morning. Now get out there and start your week the best way you know how!

37.25 – AFC North Champs!

Yes, yes,  my friends.  The beloved Black and Gold has secured the AFC North.  Now we rest.  We rest and we focus on the tasks ahead. So let it be written, so let it be done. *bangs a gong*

I hope that you’ve all (or all of you who had it) enjoyed two short weeks in a row.  I know that I loved it.  It’ll be quite some time until I have another short week (well, MLK day that I’m taking without pay, Black Power) but after that, it’ll be a while.  All of my time off/vacation focus is on Mexico right now.  I’m thinking about it.  I’m planning it in my head.  If I try hard enough, I can picture myself there with the smells and everything.  En Junio, mis amigos.

It’s time for my Facebook friend of the day.  Today’s lucky winner is: childhood friend and up the street neighbor, Shirl.

Now, mind you, this isn’t a story about something Shirl did, she was just there when this happened.

Back in the day, I’d say when I was about 10, no matter how much it was forbidden, we loved to jump on the bed.  Jump, jump, bounce, bounce, seat drip, front flip.

*sidebar – Who would’ve ever imagined that when it comes to flipping on a trampoline, it’s actually easier to learn to flip backwards than the forward flip that most of us grew up with?!?!*

Well, as Shirl, my brother and I were taking turns jumping on my bed (parents: putting your child’s bedroom downstairs means you don’t hear them jumping on the bed), my brother took a wrong bounce and hit the wall. With his head.  Leaving a round dent in the drywall.  I’m sorry, at that very moment, it was scary, but as I think about that almost-hole in the wall right now, I’m cracking up laughing.  I bet that dent is still there.

I know that isn’t much of a story, but that little nugget makes me laugh.  I mean, I also crashed her trike into a tree and almost broke my thumb off, but that isn’t as fun of a memory.

It’s once again time to run with a random exercise program.  I’ve done Hip Hop Abs (loved it), Zumba (loved it so much that I got licensed to teach it), P90X (OMG so hard but I looked fantastic for my wedding), and now, it’s time to return to Shaun T and try Insanity.  It’s about a three month program.  I’ll time it just right to finish just as I pay off all of my credit card debt and for Lovey’s birthday.  Go me!  Of course, I’ll have to do it back-to-back to be in the proper Cancun mindset.  Six months of work to eat every single thing I want for one week.  Ev.  Er.  E.  Thing.  I’ll take pictures.

Well, I have talked to you until my champagne glass is empty.  Could I refill and come back to you?  Sure.  Will I?  No.

See ya tomorrow!


And I declare them on the lady that was in my exercise class last night.  SO tempting to post her plate number, but I won't.

What did she do, you ask?  Just this:

After an hour of dancing around like maniacs and sweating up a storm, she left the class and walked to her car.  Her nice, shiny car.  Her nice, shiny car that had a FREAKING HANDICAP DANGLY THING ON THE REAR-VIEW MIRROR!

I seriously wanted to hit her.  But I was too worn out from class. 🙂

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Zumba and Bacalao

A few years back, I was taking these Zumba classes.  Apparently, I forgot exactly how taxing they were.  Don't get me wrong, I LOVE this class.  Enough so that I paid up for 8 classes at the gym that has it that doesn't make you join to take classes there. (I hate when gyms do that.)  I went to the first class last night.

I thought I was in decent shape.  I was dead wrong.  Okay, wait, I'm in decent physical shape, but I'm in terrible cardiovascular shape – think overweight smoker.  This class is vigilante hardcore to the penis! (Name that tune.)  Were it not for my competitive nature, and the cash I just dropped, I would have been out of there in the first 20 minutes.  I think we were about 10 minutes in when my chest started burning.  That's my own fault though because I wasn't breathing properly.  At 15 minutes, I was certain that I was heading for an early death.  At 20 minutes, some of the women around me (yeah, it was only chicks and the guy instructor) started "taking breaks" that they didn't return from.  That's when the competition gene kicks in.  There's no way that I'm gonna quit if there are people still going.  Especially not the lady with the super huge fake boobs that's probably giving herself black eyes.  So I stuck it out. 

About halfway through, I got my breathing down while still getting the moves.  Hooray!  The rest was a cake walk.  I'm actually excited to go back next week.

Oh yeah, bacalao.  Pronounced BACK-A-LOWWWWW (not like low, like l plus owwww, as in i hurt myself)

Really, it's just a funny word to say.  It's like salt-dried cod.  Big in the Cuban households.  I've never had it.  Don't think I want to try it.  I will still say it.  Loud and often.  BACALAO!

Now I'm wiped out.  Three posts in one day.

HEP! (More on HEP when I go back to the rig in April.)

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