Things I've Learned About Exercise

1 - A high school reunion is an excellent motivator.

2 - Oddly, Lady Antebellum has a better walking/running rhythm than Daughtry.
Glee is good for interval training, though.

3 - The sillier you look doing a particular muscle group sequence, the more effective it is.
I hope.

4 - Lunges will never be fun, or even bearable for more than a few steps. (My lower back and pelvic tilt testify to this one loudly.)

5 - Alternating side squats work fairly well as a replacement for lunges, and fortunately they look even sillier.

6 - Other joggers will look at you, smile, exchange a greeting; people who are 'exercising' by walking their dog refuse to make eye contact on the off-chance that 'running' is as contagious as 'the plague'.

7 - My body has decided that exercise is a good thing. (Traitor.) My brain still disagrees, but goes along with my body grudgingly.

8 - Not much is worse than discovering you've forgotten your keys and locked yourself out of the house with no phone, no wallet, no open windows, and no access to your largely (and currently) absent housemate. Not much is better than realizing the keys were in your jacket pocket the whole time and were, in fact, the thing that was banging against your leg earlier when you were running.

* * * * *

Got any tips, additional lessons learned, or playlist recommendations?

*

Adult Content

Warning: the following post will be rant-y, and a little bit high-horse-y, and will go over some things that (in an ideal world) your average 15-year-old knows nothing about. There won't be any swears (I don't think) or inappropriate pictures of people doing inappropriate things, and content will stay (as they say) Safe For Work. Still, it is 'Adult Only' stuff. (Oh, and males will most likely not want to read on, either.) You've been warned.

But come on - if you can't rant and rave and wax self-righteously philosophical (I'm not saying that WILL happen, it's just a possibility) to the larger of-age public over the Interwebs, who can you rant to?







* * * * *


I'll say this just one more time: tights are not pants. (Or, more alliteratively for the English among us, - if any are still reading - 'Tights are not trousers.') The fiasco at BYU-Idaho over a girl being kicked out of the testing center for wearing skinny jeans has been ridiculous, of course, but at least people are talking about what actually comprises modesty. I have my own opinion of skinny jeans, but while they are generally very, um, slim-fitting (occasionally to the point of wrinkling and rolling at the slightest movement, like, say, breathing) at least the denim usually keeps other things from becoming apparent. (The abomination known as 'jeggings' will never, ever enter the 'jeans' category. Or the 'cute in any context at all' category.)

On the bus the other day there was a girl wearing a puffy coat and full-head fur hat - and leggings that were probably actually tights, as I think I could have drawn the pattern of the lace of her underwear even though she was sitting several rows away. That is far too much information for public consumption! Also, it's just plain stupid if the rest of you is bundled up for a trip to the Antarctic. Please, please, let us resist the madness and not forget that at its heart, modesty means making sure that everything you've got (or even just part of what you've got) is not on FULL display. It's kind of like the prize case at Chuck E. Cheese: every last option for you to redeem your Skee-ball tickets is there in bright, garish color, but after a few minutes you realize it's all just cheap crap. (Oh, yeah, I said it.) More flattering lighting, less junk competing for attention, some elegant drapery, a little mystery - when it's not handed out all willy-nilly, suddenly the value goes WAY up. Plus it just looks better. (And helps prevent pneumonia.)

Modesty: The Great Multi-Tasker.

* * *

For some reason, this week at church I realized that I would have made a really fantastic mother. I would have taught responsibility, and fun, and self-worth, and an awareness of the larger world, and serving others, and all those things that would make happy, secure, productive, community-minded individuals. I also realized it's just not going to happen. My time and the Lord's time are not the same, I get that, but in my time (biologically speaking) the end is nigh. I'm no Sarah in the desert, and I certainly haven't got an Abraham. I'm giving it one more year (maybe two, 40 is a nice round number) before letting go completely. After that - well, I don't want to think about that for just a little while longer.

See? Adult. Kids just don't get this stuff.

* * *

I was going to do a whole section here on obscenity, the 'big one' in particular, and how useless and moronic society has made the word SO CAN EVERYONE PLEASE JUST STOP USING IT SO UGLY LAZY GAH, particularly the 10-year-old kid this morning who tossed it off like it was a lyric from the Muppet Show who couldn't honestly have had any real conception of what the word actually MEANS.

And then I decided that that would probably make it's own post at some point in the future, so I stopped.

* * *

A few days ago a got a letter from the campus medical centre recommending that I come in for a pap smear. I can barely remember the last one, so I figured a) things wouldn't be as busy now that the term is over, and b) I could also try for a general checkup as well as suggestions for a dermatologist and an osteopath while I was there. (Note: Honestly, it's completely ridiculous that I'm nearly 38 and still have the complexion of a pizza-faced teenager. If I have to keep the skin I'd like to have the body and metabolism as well, thank you very much.) I went in for my appointment today and learned a few interesting things: namely, medical professionals the world over don't register a person telling them they don't have sex. It just doesn't hit their radar. Granted, this is a college campus, but it took three different references to 'intercourse' (from the nurse) and an explanation (on my part) about the difficulties with the physical exam before she understood that I haven't had sex. Ever. I think she nearly fell out of her chair when it finally came clear. The good news is that the chances of me ever developing cervical cancer are practically nil, and my next appointment for a pap smear will definitely come on a 'you call us, we won't call you' basis.

It makes me a little angry, and a little sad, that this experience was so shocking for the nurse. SURELY there are other people out there living by standards other than those society has devolved to. Surely it's even more unreasonable to assume that I'm the only virgin at the University - though judging from the nurse's reaction, she hasn't seen any of the rest come through the medical centre! (Which in some ways stands to reason, I suppose, as there are fewer health problems to worry about.) It was just another shock to her system when she also heard I don't smoke or drink - 'Where are you from?' she asked. I felt like saying 'Another planet, evidently', but instead just stuck with 'Salt Lake City, UT.' There are far more accurate responses I could have made, but the poor woman had had enough trauma for one day.

* * *

Whew! Now I'm worn out. It's OK if nobody actually read this all the way through (you sensitive souls, you) I just needed to tell somebody. Well, 'somebody'.






If you are still here, look! There's a 'Coming Soon!' And it's for Christmas movie reviews and an awesome sugar cookie design and things which are much more merry and bright (and family-friendly)!

*

One of These Things...

It's finally happened.

The day I knew would come has arrived. (And in all reality, it's not in any way about me.)

Still -

Every last one of my siblings now has a child.

My youngest brother's wife gave birth right around one A.M., and the baby's a very pretty (if slightly overcooked*) little girl. I'll get to see her in about a month.

So, congratulations!

(That makes 6, 4, 3, 2, and 1 - the 6 and the 4 are finished, but the last three are still potentially 'and counting'. I'm going to be trying for 2 Masters' degrees - maybe I should go for five to fill out the sequence!)

Also, I'd better start bringing in some big bucks - how else am I going to be able to afford to spoil all 16 of my brothers' and sister's kids?

I shall now have a celebratory chocolate milkshake in baby Bostyn's honor. She is a Baxter, after all.

(And I have a bottle of real Hershey's syrup. How providential!)




* By which I mean, she was nearly a week late - and this after her parents were told the initial due date was probably inaccurate and the baby would most likely arrive sometime in May. That kid really hunkered down!

Note to Self

Dear Self:

Please double-check everything. It will make the guy at the sandwich counter SO much happier if you visually account for the sandwich he's pointing to, because then he will be able to pick out the one you actually want instead of the one you absentmindedly agree to and then protest about after he rings you up. And who doesn't want to make the sandwich guy happy? No one, that's who.

Also, it is never a good idea to assume you know the schedule, especially on a bank holiday weekend. That round trip train-and-taxi ride through the country may be nice and all, but when it costs you £24 (roughly $38) and four hours that you could have been using productively AND you didn't have a picnic lunch, well, all I'm saying is that a phone call would be nice next time.


Just ALWAYS double-check from now on, OK? OK.


Cheers,
Me

Things I Learned While I Should Have Been Doing Something Else

I read a book today.

Yes, I know, if you've met me you are not surprised. It's notable, though, in that I started writing down sentences and quotes that jumped out at me while I read. I then discovered a few things once I finished the book. For the sharing:

* '... Maybe there's nothing fundamentally wrong with me. Maybe I've just been making appalling choices.'

* '...The thing to remember about bad luck is that it always runs out.'

* "Try harder, fail better." - Samuel Beckett

* '...When the universe sends you something awful, the converse is only around the corner.'

See: CHEMICALIZATION

* "I'm not needy, but I do require the reassurance of constant attention."

* '... Life is not designed for us to go through alone, you're supposed to have a partner."

These things all struck one chord or another with me, and those chords are probably fairly obvious to you, the audience. The following may not seem so obvious, but the items below are the things I actually learned/realized after reading the book.

* You will achieve the thing on which you focus.

* A person can rarely focus on more than one thing at a time. Since most things a person wants deeply are pretty "big", and there are usually more than one of them, smaller, specific goals that lead to a "big" desire are vital.

* Know thyself. And if you don't, and you ask the people around you to help you get to know yourself, PAY ATTENTION.

* There is a right way to write a story. A book without an ending is a huge cop-out, and will in no way please your readers.

* I am a magpie. I talk too much, and I am too easily distracted (insert "shiny" joke here. I just spent 15 minutes thinking up and discarding several - see above).

* I am also obsessive-impulsive (or, impulsive-obsessive). Anyone who's seen me in action knows what I'm talking about.

* An impulsive-obsessive magpie is not the most productive of creatures. These tendencies must be fought, and conquered, if I am going to be able to truly focus on the things I wish to achieve.

* I got a lot out of the book, and found a little self-actualization, but I still hate it because it doesn't end and it "twist"s and "spin"s in such a way that it tramples on its own premise. SLOPPY. (Try not to do that when you write a book.)

It's interesting (to me, anyway) that when I buckle down and attempt to focus and clean house and change things that are bugging me, I blog a lot more. Hmmm.

* * * * *

Maybe reading that book was what I was supposed to be doing after all.