music

Adventures At The Range

That song right there was my introduction to Ozzy. I loved it from the moment I heard it and it’s still my favorite Ozzy tune. And even though it really wasn’t dark, my meaning behind that song today was this: At The Range

Yup, went out and fired off a couple boxes last night. It’s 200 to 300 rounds to break her in before I can use anything other than plain ole bullets in her, but best believe hollow points will be where it’s at.

This pic was towards the end of the second box and I am ALL OVER THE PLACE for pete’s sake (look at that wrist…no wonder I can’t hit anything!). I should have taken a picture of the first two clips as they were much better. I fired 10 magazines and it went something like this:

  • Clip 1 – First shot high, second shot wide right, shots 3-10 nice grouping slightly off-center
  • Clip 2 – Continued good grouping slightly below the first group
  • Break, reload while watching hubby
  • Clip 3 – Still fairly good grouping
  • Clip 4 – I’m starting to get squirrely but I’m still keeping it together
  • Clip 5 – It’s getting ugly. Let’s change targets
  • Clip 6 – Mind adrenaline has not worn off. Body adrenaline is starting to wear off. Shots fired. Not very closely together
  • Clip 7 – I’d say this is around where this photo was taken and I can’t keep shit together
  • Clips 8 – 10 – That target up there is what the FBI tests on, or so I’m told. Let’s just say I won’t be joining up any time soon.

Nevertheless, it was frigging awesome. The folks at the range are super nice, the range itself is super nice, and one day, my shooting will be super nice. I see now that my budget spreadsheet will need another entry titled “Ammo” as I can certainly see going to the range 2 or 3 times a month. Again, I’m reminded that I wanted to get good at *something* this year and marksmanship is not out of the question.

Time to take my tired, low grade headache having self to work. Wishing you all a wonderful day, but really, that’s a shot in the dark. 🙂

Well, It Isn’t

The video quality there is not so hot, but it ain’t my fault.

Sorry, this post doesn’t really go along with the song, but it was the last thing I heard before I got out of the car last night and I knew that I wanted to use it this morning. This morning, where I’m coming to you live from the basement, either in pigeon pose or foam rolling my inner thighs. Have you ever foam rolled your inner thighs? Like down towards your knee? I’ll let you in on a secret. IT FUCKING HURTS! Damn you, fascia! Damn you, ego, for wanting to move around like a 20 year old when you never even started stretching until  you were almost 30. Damn you hot knives jamming in my leg..oh no, that’s just the roller. It might be possible that I have the tightest hips on the planet. I think I need more hot tub time. Yeah, that’s the ticket. The bonus is that I can have it, I just have to make my way over to the gym. Best $20 a month I spend without doubt. I’m up $20 a month after only going to Zumba. Everything else is a double bonus.

I’ll tell ya what is not a bonus. It’s barely been above 30 degrees here for the last week. I do not mind the temperature because I spend very little time outside when I’m not fully dressed for it. What I *do* mind is the return of spiders. In case you buggers didn’t know, which obviously you didn’t, it is NOT yet spider season. I do not wish to see you (blurrily) out of the corner of my eye when I am working out/stretching/doing yoga. How do you think I can focus on what I am doing when I constantly have to worry about where you went?!?! I’d ask how you even got in, but that would just be a stupid question. I mean, you are a spider and you’re kinda small. Big enough that I’m concerned you might have the ability to bite, but still small in the grand scheme of things. Hear that, spiders? You’re still small UNDER MY SHOE! Today, you live. Tomorrow, we’ll see.

Last night I went to my first group pole class in I don’t know how long. Ugh. I’d call myself a deer on ice skates, but that would be too graceful to describe the hot mess that I currently am. Nothing like a little hiatus to take you back to square negative one. Some takeaways from class include I need to stretch even more (or get new hips), P90X3 may not be nearly enough and I might need to lift, and flow, flow, flow not herk-e. Jerk-e. I’ve not made it to the section yet that really involves weights as that’s in another 2 weeks, but I could see myself going back to the original. It might totally mess up my morning routine, but it’ll be worth it. Probably crazy with this morning routine, but you know, goals and junk.

Just as I suspected, this short week is well on its way to taking forever. Even when I have classes after work, somehow things are still slowing down. Every now and again, I consider more Zumba, but I try not to leave my poor hubby all by his lonesome too many times a week even though he is supposed to be playing Rocksmith while I’m out working out. Tough being married to me, all being expected to play video games. Ah, that reminds me that I haven’t played my own set of video games in a while. So much to do, so little time. Still have to catch up on the first three episodes of The Following. Did manage to catch up on The Blacklist though. I honestly never knew how much I loved James Spader until this show came along. Not young James Spader, now James Spader, particularly as Red. Easily my favorite tv villian-ish guy. I think these are the characters I enjoy the most. Give me a Red Reddington or a Hannibal Lechter any day. Yes, I’ll probably end up tv-dead, but it’ll be fun while it lasts.

Alright, I’m about to go head-to-head and toe-to-toe with Tuesday.Keep  your guard up and strike when your opponent’s guard is down. Work the jab and throw in a combo here and there. Don’t go flat-footed and let’s get that KO! Yeah, watch boxing much?

Time Is All The Luck You Need

Let me repeat. Time is all. The luck you need.

Last night, we were chatting about playing the lottery and I said that Lovey should do it as he is more lucky than I. He said that he had probably used up all of his luck. Now I’m sitting here thinking. We’re healthy and happy with a roof over our heads and never empty bellies. We’ve had a great 8.5 years and hopefully many more ahead. This has all happened over time and will continue to happen over time. Time. Is all. The luck you need. 7M3, always powerful.

If you somehow couldn’t tell, me and music go way, way back. There are songs that remind me of certain times, places, people, or some combination of those things. Some songs make me laugh (You Be Illin’, Mesa Con Mas Aplauda), some bring a tear to right below the surface (Never Say Goodbye, You Mean The World To Me), and some are simply meant for dancing (A Lover Is Forever, Dynamite). There is simply music for almost every moment and every mood in my life. (It just hit me how much I miss group choreography and the laughs that ensued out of all of that.)

Well, a whole day has gone by between the last word in the previous paragraph and the beginning of this one. As such, tomorrow morning’s post will probably be a long one.

Ante Up!

Kidnap that fool!  Because this platform isn’t friendly to embedding YouTube videos, there’s the link. Good Thursday morning anthem, but then again, I don’t start my days like most people. 🙂

How did I start my day, you didn’t ask because you don’t care but I’m going to tell you anyway? Why, in the way of us X-heads,of course. 95 pushups and 45 pullups over 30 minutes. The last 5 of each of those were absolute suckassishness, but push, push, push! Have I mentioned P90X3? Hahahahaha, of course I have. Dear body, thanks for bouncing back pretty quickly every time I fall off of the workout wagon.

Last night I had my first FabPole routine class. Loved it. It’s pretty yet it still takes strength and more grace than I have. I still have to keep the fabric lower on my back and not in my armpits, but hey, it’s the second time I’ve ever tried it so I think I’m on a good path. Three more weeks to keep learning and get it all down. I got this. When we’re all done, I’ll post a video…maybe.

Proud to announce that on only my fourth day using my sandwich maker, I have perfected the art. This morning, my whole sandwich was hot and none of my cheese melted off into the sunset. I think this has a little to do with me switching cheese, but more to do with my “sandwich making” skills. I can’t wait to see what else I can put in that little bugger and make deliciousness.

I didn’t forget about yesterday’s writing prompt. I just think that I’ve written that post previously. When I read today’s prompt, my initial thought was that it was another one I would throw by the wayside, but then I started thinking more about it. The prompt says: It’s 1984. You’re locked in a room with your greatest fear. Describe what’s in the room. Back then, I was 10 years old. Do you know what kind of irrational fears plague 10 year olds? For me, it wasn’t the dark or something fairly normal. At that age I had three major fears: our house burning down, tornadoes, and nuclear war (Reagan SMASH!).

The fear of the house burning down has basically followed me into my adult life and up to this day. It is probably slightly irrational, but I cannot help it. Every time we leave for more than two days, I get freaked out the moment we turn onto our street, and I’m deathly afraid that our (rented) house has burned down. Were I to psychoanalyze myself, I’d say that this issue stems from my (great?) grandmother dying in a house fire. Her house. It couldn’t have been too long before 1984. Follow that up with a nightmare about riding the bus home from school and coming around the corner to our house and everything goes into super slo-mo. I can, for some reason, hear my neighbors talking in their yard (yes, I’m still on the bus. Slo-mo obviously gives you hyper-sensitive hearing also) before the bus rounds the corner and I see our house burnt to the ground. I literally woke up screaming. Yikes. One of three nightmares I had as a child, or at least one of the three that I vividly remember.

I’m not entirely sure why I was so scared of tornadoes, but oh boy was I. I still don’t relish the thought, but I’m certainly better than I was. If it was stormy and windy, I wanted no part of anyone. At 10 I just KNEW that I knew how to survive the dreaded tornado. What’s crazy is that where I grew up, there were very few tornadoes. One did touch down about 2 miles from our house, but it was about the equivalent of the fart of the lactose intolerant after a bowl of ice cream. Oddly enough, the tornado fear didn’t translate into a hurricane fear when I lived in Miami. Don’t get me wrong, my first tropical storm I nearly shit my pants, but after that, I was cool.

So then why is a 10 year old so scared of nuclear war? Why does a 10 year old even know about this? Too much news at too young of an age. Too much listening to adults talk about the President. Too wild of an imagination. All of the above. I was quite a strange child, of this I am sure. Carried that into adulthood too. Being strange, not fearing WW3.

What about you? Any strange or irrational fears you’re harboring? It can’t be just me. Even us one-of-a-kind folks have similarities.