I’m going to sweat it out with Sven for 70 days starting on 10/15. Doesn’t that sound sexy?
Any of you writers out there wanna join me?
Oh and I’m hitting the fitness trail again. I’ve been away from the gym for 3 weeks and I feel sluggish and yucky. I wonder if I can lose 70 lbs in the 70 days? Okay, probably not. But a girl can dream, right?
In the comments of my last post, Liz said:
I haven’t been to a high school football game since I was in high school. I too miss it, although my memories of the games include sneaking drinks in, chatting, walking off site to smoke, and checking out the 17 year old guys. Have things changed?
In a word? Nope.
But apparently I have.
It’s a bit strange being an adult at a high school function. I haven’t seen so much eye rolling and gum smacking in one place ever! I looked around for a 17 year old guy to make out with, but they were all already occupied in the with their own girlfriends. Darn.
The clicks are still around in full force. The junior high kids go off and nerd it up together. The senior high girls are all wearing too much make up and showing too much skin. Whatever happened to jeans and t-shirts at a football game? When did hoochie “skirts” become the in thing for a football game. Honey, when you sit down, we see your bidniz. K? And when you stumble down the bleachers and fall because you’ve had one too many “Cokes”, well, we can really see your bidniz. Put on a pair of pants. Hell, I’m not picky. Put on some panties! The kids don’t need an anatomy lesson just yet.
The senior high boys are all trying so hard to look nonchalant that they all end up looking constipated.
Pretty much, things haven’t changed at all.
Saturday was busy, busy for us. We got up and went to the park for a family run. Fishdog and Ian ran about 1.5 miles and Rader and I walked and ran a mile. We were getting ready to start our second trip around the track when a yellow jacket decided to attack. It got Rader on the arm, landed on his ear and I knocked it away. We ran toward the van, got about 10 ft. away from the original sting site, and that bitch yellow jacket caught up to Rader, landed on h
is shoulder blade and stung him again. Bitch had to die! Get my boy twice! Of course, you know how bad those things hurt and Rader did a good job of letting Saline County hear his wailing. After a while, he was okay. I was afraid he was gonna let the drama interfere with his soccer game that afternoon, but he manned up and managed to play a helluva game. The kids lost, but I was proud of the way Rader played.
Now the weekend is over, today we rest, hang out with some friends, and tomorrow we start all over. Soccer, cross-country, confirmation class, CYM Jr., working out…oh, and writing. Yeah. Gotta fit my job into my busy schedule!
So, I spent the weekend in Oxford. Got in Friday night, dropped Rader off with a friend and then headed to my next door neighbor’s house for some late night swimming. The water was so warm it was like swimming in a giant hot tub–or giant pool of pee. We decided the hot tub analogy was better.
Saturday was a day for cleaning. We didn’t accomplish as much as we wanted to but we did get the back 3 bedrooms and bathrooms cleaned and in ship shape. Then we went to see our friends Richard and Heather in Water Valley, MS. It was a good time, but I thought I was gonna have to cut Rich’s fingers off. He kept trying to touch my nose “diamond”. And he kept saying “you got something on your nose.” Yeah, that never got old. But it was Richard, so I forgave him. Besides, he’s from Alabama, he really doesn’t know any better.
I wasn’t feeling very well, so we left a little early. I was in bed by 9:30 that night. It seems my mother passed on her chest cold to me. Ian had it last week…so bad he actually missed his 3rd day of school. I’ve been fighting it with everything I’ve got. Vitamins, sleep, airborne, more sleep…today I’m feeling much better. Which is good because I didn’t want to go to the beach with a cold.
Oh, did I forget to mention I’m going to the beach this week?
Sorry ’bout that.
I’ll try to blog some while I’m there, but honestly, don’t be surprised if you don’t hear from me. I don’t think I’ll be able to type while I’m two-fisting my beverages…
I’ll be back on Sunday night. If you haven’t heard from me by next Monday, call the blog police.
My workout was good this morning. I ran 2.15 miles in 30 mins on the eliptical and did arms and abs. I know I’m still as slow as a snail, but it feels good to be back in the exercise saddle. I have to make sure I at least walk while at the beach this week–otherwise it will be like starting over again next week.
Maybe I’ll drink light beer while I’m playing the role of Sungoddess. Okay, maybe not.
Any book recommendations for my week of lounging?
Gee, don’t they look happy?
The good news is, orientation went well on Monday night. They really took to the school and their teachers. My first impression was that the school was very tight-knit. That they all know each other and if they don’t know you yet, it’s only a matter of time.
Ian was really taken with his art teacher, Mr. Peterson. He’s excited about getting to do some work with the Arkansas Arts Center and going there for field trips.
Oh, yesterday Ian had to go to the doctor to get his physical so he could play sports. It was the “big one” for boys… you know, “turn and cough”. LOL He wasn’t very happy about it, but he got over it pretty quick. He also had to get two shots…Tetanus and the meningitis vaccine. He really manned up and didn’t even flinch. A few years ago, it took 5 of us to hold him down to give him a shot…this was a nice change.
Apparently with the scare over kids keeling over during sporting events, they’ve now added taking an EKG to the physical. So, as any proper mom would do, I promptly humiliated him by snapping a picture and now I shall further the humiliation by posting said picture here…
after I dropped the boys off today, I joined a fitness center. I did 30 mins on the elliptical (ouch) and then worked arms and abs. (ouch, ouch) As much as it hurt, it also felt great to be back in the gym. All my soft bits were getting softer….
I arrived in Dallas after a turbulent flight from Little Rock. The airplane ride was like a tame version of the Tower of Terror. I never felt like we were gonna free fall, but I certainly never felt 100% safe either.
For the first time ever, my bags were the first to be unloaded off the plane. That was kinda awesome. I loved the looks of envy from the other passengers as I skipped over and plucked my red suitcase and the ugly brown JORDACHE hanging bag (circa 1988) from the conveyor belt. This was a good sign.
Um. sorta.
I found the shuttle. We waited for a few mins, nobody else came so we were off–to the next terminal. We picked up a lovely lady and commenced to drive around the airport some more. We hit each terminal at the airport, then came back to where he picked me up and told us we had to switch shuttle buses. While we’re waiting to board the other passenger and I introduce ourselves. Imagine my shock and awe when I discover I’ve been sharing a shuttle with THE Eloisa James. How fantastic! Especially since Maria is her Kathy Bates, I mean, biggest fan.
We proceed to find a seat on the shuttle and I meet another passenger, author Kalen Hughes. As we continue our tour of the airport, the three of us commence in a lively discussion of books, kids, camps, Italy, jet lag, beer…until we stop at another terminal and pick up…my CP Louisa Edwards! Finally we left the airport and headed toward the hotel.
After Louisa and I check in, we rush upstairs to freshen up…I swear Airplane smell absorbs into the skin… we call our friends to discover they were waiting downstairs for us to check in! Somehow we missed each other.
We go downstairs, find our way to a bar (I know, big surprise) meet up with Maria, Pam, Nic, Kalen joins us with Dorchester author, Sandy Shaw. We enjoy a couple of drinks and some nachos then split up to get ready for dinner.
Dinner was a great little Mediterranean Restaurant named Sambuca. They had a live jazz duo and we had a cute little waiter named John who was trying a little too hard but that was okay. Oh, and we had a cute little cab driver named Abu who was our chauffeur to and from the restaurant.
After our fun dinner, we came back to the hotel bar where we proceed to train our livers for conference week. Kalen, Doreen, Anne, Emma Peterson, Eden Bradley, and Lillian Feisty joined the party. We had a great time and I stayed up a little later than usual…but it was totally worth it.
This morning Louisa, Maria and I hit the gym for an hour long workout and now Louisa is headed for a mani-pedi and Maria and I are heading downstairs to work registration.
Pictures will come soon. If things go as planned, I’ll have something cool to report this evening…anyone care to guess what that might be?
I am seeing a personal trainer two days a week. Rose–she may sound like a delicate little flower, but don’t let her name fool you–Rose is a big meanie. And the stupid thing is, I’m paying her to be mean to me.
It’s hard for me to remember my days of athleticism. I played basketball, softball, and (begrudgingly) ran track. I played volleyball one year and dabbled with tennis in college. I lifted weights and played football with the boys on the weekend. I was an athlete.
Now, here’s the thing…even though I’m a large Marge, I’m still a very active chick. I walk and run and still play softball or basketball on occasion. I’m overweight but I’m not inactive. However, I hate the way I look in the mirror, so I’m trying my darndest to lose some of this extra padding.
I just don’t understand why I can’t lose weight while sitting on the couch drinking my Sierra Nevada. It’s really not fair.
I’m walking in the Double Decker 5K this weekend, so I tell Rose when I show up for my torture session to please take it easy on my legs so I can walk on Saturday. I shoulda just kept my damn mouth shut. She made me do two extra sets of walking lunges (somebody just shoot me) and today’s magic # was 25. So everything I did was in sets of 25.
I’m going to be so sore tomorrow.
Why couldn’t she just work me out the Hans and Franz way?
I am seeing a personal trainer two days a week. Rose–she may sound like a delicate little flower, but don’t let her name fool you–Rose is a big meanie. And the stupid thing is, I’m paying her to be mean to me.
It’s hard for me to remember my days of athleticism. I played basketball, softball, and (begrudgingly) ran track. I played volleyball one year and dabbled with tennis in college. I lifted weights and played football with the boys on the weekend. I was an athlete.
Now, here’s the thing…even though I’m a large Marge, I’m still a very active chick. I walk and run and still play softball or basketball on occasion. I’m overweight but I’m not inactive. However, I hate the way I look in the mirror, so I’m trying my darndest to lose some of this extra padding.
I just don’t understand why I can’t lose weight while sitting on the couch drinking my Sierra Nevada. It’s really not fair.
I’m walking in the Double Decker 5K this weekend, so I tell Rose when I show up for my torture session to please take it easy on my legs so I can walk on Saturday. I shoulda just kept my damn mouth shut. She made me do two extra sets of walking lunges (somebody just shoot me) and today’s magic # was 25. So everything I did was in sets of 25.
I’m going to be so sore tomorrow.
Why couldn’t she just work me out the Hans and Franz way?
Fishdog and I go to the gym at least 4 days a week over lunch. Since Si is staying with us this week, I picked him up and brought him along today.
Fishdog isn’t with us because he is out of town.
I go to the locker room and change. Immediately, one of the regulars comes in after me. “Is that your son?”
Me: “Sorta.” (I explain the situation)
I leave the locker room, get on to the elliptical and one of the trainers stops by. “Is that your son? He’s fine!”
Me: “Not my son. Yeah, he’s pretty cute.”
I do my 2 miles, then hit the weights. While I’m doing shoulders, a group finishes spin class and comes out. They see Si say something to me and one of the ladies asks, “Where’s Mark? Did you trade him in for a younger model?”
Finally. At least someone acknowledges the possibility that I’m not old. LOL
So, of course, I answer, “Yes. Yes I did, but the poor boy just can’t keep up.”
Hurry home, Fishdog.
Bitchin' Fiction: Musings by author Melissa McKenzie / Melissa Francis 