Reason # 4 Why I Love Living 5 Minutes Away From Work

I can go home at lunchtime, fix myself a grilled hammin’ cheese, and watch E! explain the details of Paris Hilton’s house arrest.

http://www.mcsweeneys.net/2007/5/23passet.html

http://www.mcsweeneys.net/2007/5/23passet.html

 

Go.

 

Now.

Vent-y

So I sign up for Yoga, right?   Thinking it will be a way for me to become all Zen-like and holy and one with God and nature and self and quite possibly Budda as well.  You know, body-mind connection crap.   So nerdy little Lindsay drives herself to Target (where else?!) and buys herself a yoga mat, dons herself up in inconspicuous yoga clothes (can’t be a typical yoga yuppie yet, you know) and heads off to the gym.

 

First thing I hear when I walk in the door:   “We don’t wear shoes in here.”   Um, okay.  Do I get to be a part of this “we”?   Are you exclusive already?   Am I out of the group before I was even in it?    I’m feeling a little bit like Bridget Jones when she shows up to the Tarts & Vicars party only to realize… the Tarts & Vicars party was cancelled and it’s now a posh luncheon… Except I’m not wearing a corset and stockings to everyone elses’ Sunday best, it’s more like tennies to barefoot.    So, okay, I get over it and take my shoes off.

 

Next, I get dirty looks and am told “oh, put that yoga mat away, use our sticky mats here” and inside I curse myself for having ripped off the tag just seconds before entering, in fear that I look like a novice who just picked up her first yoga mat.  Except, I AM a novice who just picked up her first yoga mat, it turns out, unnecessarily.    I chalk the $15 up to a lesson learned in not ripping tags off of something until you’re actually USING it and move on.

 

So, we finally start the class.  Tiny Hipster Buddhist Lady (THBL) goes into yoga poses and we follow. Although, lying on your back with you feet up the wall, it’s kinda hard to turn and see what she’s doing next.    I digress.   She says she’s moving on to another pose… but here comes the kicker:    “Are any of you ladies menstruating right now?”    Awhaaaa?  Exsqueeze me?  First of all, there are men-folk in the room… we ladies must never mention the M. as a first-person occurance with men in the room.   Sure, I’ll be the first to talk about “It’s sucks for women cuz we have our periods and cramps and we push BABIES out of our hoo-ha’s and you dudes? What? You get kicked in the junk and it hurts? You want me to feel bad for you?”   but always in the second or third person… you know “we women…”  or “women in general”  but NEVER, no never, the first person.   Am I seriously expected to raise my hand profess to be riding the crimson wave??  (Shameless Clueless quote) Shaaaaa right.

 

Screw this mind-body crap.  Let’s get to the humming and pointing the thumb to the finger and closing the eyes and can we not talk about our periods?  

 

So yoga! LOVES IT!  (Cue: Quick fake smile and a roll of the eyes)

Crazy!

Dude retired today...

After 40 years of service.

Not only was I not even born yet,

But my parents weren't even hitting
Puberty when this guy started.

DinoDinoDinoSaur.
Cerrrazy.

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Things that possess The Awesome

I call Nick up: "You need anything from Meijer?" I stop at the store
for some feta, and with my newfound obsession with paying cash for
everything, grumble to myself that I don't have the $5 on hand and that
I'll have to debit it.

But wait! I do have a couple of dollar coins... and hey, no one is
behind me in the U-Scan, this is THE PERFECT and perhaps my only chance
to go through my (bottomless, as it turns out) purse to find those
annoying pennies and I loathe so much. Turns out, I have PLENTY of
pennies to use, and I do just that. Clink them into the machine, clink,
clink, clink. And more of the clinking. I left the store a new woman.

And thing which possesses The Awesome: hearing Queen's "Another One
Bites the Dust" on my way to work, and having the foresight to shut off
the radio THE SECOND the song is done so as to not damage the good taste
in my ears, so to speak, and ruin it by having some lame-ass Nickelback
song in my head for the rest of the day.

WORD.

Ah... kids.

Blogging from work... notice the title. That is all.

Ting Tang Walla Walla Bing Bang

Sweaty mosquitos hovering over the water
Muscles flexed in fear of leaches
My biggest fear life-to-date
Smell of wet wood and humidity
Not caring if my hair is frizzy
Or my shirt damp with perspiration
Oh how carefree
To be seven

Today My Horoscope Reads...

"You are feeling uber-psychic, and will have three separate instances
today where you will email someone, only to have them on the other end
of the computer writing you the exact same email. THREE SEPARATE
INSTANCES. One, two three. Also, today is the day you will wear pants
that happen to be see-through enough to show your black undies to anyone
who has the unfortunate experience of walking behind you. Also? Because
that's not bad enough... you also will wear a shirt that is a scoosh too
small, and therefore your boobies will show just a little if you move
the wrong way. Actually, let's call this a HORRORSCOPE."

Reason # 7 Why I Love Mika

With lyrics that sing "Big girls, you are beautiful!" and "You take your
girl and multiply about four / Now a whole lot of woman needs a whole
lot more..." Doesn't get much better than that!

My first lie as a 25-year-old

So I leave work at 10:30 am for the Secretary of State, to renew my drivers license.  The place opens at 11:00, and I pat myself on the back for cleverly leaving early so as to get there before it opens, but it turns out I'm not the only one who was thinking that morning… doh.  So I join the other 15-20 people in line, standing single file and silent, like claiming an unemployment check or something.  Anyway, back to my lie.  Once inside and making my transaction, the clerk verifies my information…

 

”Still in Beverly Hills?” 

 

“Yes.”  First lie.  Except not the= one I’m alluding to.

 

“Still need corrective lenses to drive?”

 

“Yes.”  Truth.

 

“Still five-foot-two and 120 pounds?”

 

::: Pause :::

 

::: Pause :::

 

“Yes.”

 

Hahahahaha. She was duped!  I had a hearty chuckle allllll the way back to work.   It just made my day. 

 

----------------------------------------

 

In other news…  can we please talk about Planet Earth and these amazing jumping lizards and the dancing birds and baby bears and could I be any more generic in my descriptions?  It’s the next best thing since The Hills, I tell ya…

 

Also:  sharing is caring. Listen to your mother.