Randoms

Because it's been literally months.  I feel like a lot has happened, but nothing has really stuck with me that I really want to write about.  Mostly because I'm still working it all out.

My sister and I did a 4 week Fat Loss Jump Start program.  We dropped good money on it.  We stuck to it like it was our religion and we would be flogged if we didn't do everything exactly.like.the plan.said.  Why?  Because we wanted change.  We wanted different results.  We also needed to be held accountable and what better way to do that than to drop money on something and have to report in weekly?  But we didn't get the results we wanted.  No, not just "didn't get the results we wanted," flat out didn't get results.  We didn't change.  Nothing changed.  Need for us to adjust our expectations?  Perhaps. Need for us to re-evaluate where we are in our fitness/health plans?  Perhaps.  Maybe just not the right program for us and time to look at something different? Perhaps.  Time to just drink more?  Perhaps.  

Then I caught myself on fire and am still healing up near third degree burns on my hand and foot (it'll be 5 weeks this Saturday).  This is a long and dramatic story that I only laugh at sometimes.   Still working all that out.  

The weather is gorgeous and spring is in the air and it makes me want to cut my hair, buy new clothes, roll the windows down, blast my music and head to the beach.  Or Disneyland.  Or both.  

I started doing acro stuff with my sister, which is awesome, but also a serious, in your face testimony to whatever trust and intimacy issues you have with yourself and other people.  Trusting my sister isn't the issue.  I do that blindly.  But having to partner with someone else, someone I don't know, sometimes a dude, and not only say, I trust you not to drop me/I trust you to touch me there, but to also reciprocate and say, I won't drop you and yes I'm going to touch you there I hope that's okay.  Because sometimes that touching means they're balancing on their shoulders with their head in between my knees, with a second person balancing on their shoulders in my hands and we are face to face.  Sometimes that trust comes from a place of basing (I won't drop you), sometimes it comes from a place of flying (please, oh my god, don't drop me).  I wasn't totally prepared for that part of it all, because I've only ever done this with my sister.  So it was a bit of a shock.  Not good, not bad, just unexpected.  

I passed my masters licensing exam.  I bought myself flowers, and we all ate pizza and drank wine to celebrate.  

I want all the red meat right now, which probably means I'm iron deficient.  Bring on the carne asada!  

Dear friends are leaving Tucson, which is horribly sad.  Dear friends are moving closer to to Arizona, which is hopeful of actually getting to see them.  

My friends' kids are starting to become little people.  Not that they were somehow "less" as babies, but they aren't babies.  They don't look like babies.  They have the faces that they will have forever.  They will grow and mature for sure, but these are their faces. They're getting old enough to start having memories, memories that they will remember as adults.  My friends don't have babies (well, some of them are still babies), my friends have kids.  That's nuts.  Nuts I tell you.  

Randoms

I haven't blogged in a month, so randoms it is.  

1. Much to my dismay, I'm starting to develop plantar fasciitis.  And it sucks.  If shin splints weren't bad enough now my feet hurt.  Though I do find that putting a water bottle in the freezer and rolling my feet out every morning and night is helpful.  And not wearing flip flops as much as I like to is also helpful but, meh.  

2. We went to Sedona for Memorial weekend and I am in love.  It was so beautiful and a much needed escape for our day to day.  I'm determined to write more on this in a different post so we'll keep it to the following: awesome, amazing, magical, lots of wine, helicopter ride!  

3. Now that I'm done with school (and can I please get a big fucking amen for that whole process being over with?) I have more time to meal plan etc.  So I'm back to grocery shopping more regularly.  A bonus to being in school and not having time to cook every day forced me to use recipes that yield a lot and then have a lot of leftovers.  Which in the long run is saving us money, so, win.  

4. Also now that I have more time I'm able to walk the dog more regularly, something which we are both grateful for.  I forgot how nice morning walks are.  And walking is good for the body and good for the soul (good for my feet if I would stop wearing flip flops when I go walk...).  This morning I was that crazy lady talking to my dog on our walk about how mommy is an idiot for wearing flip flops again and for wearing all black and how not only do mommy's feet hurt, but she's a gross sweaty mess.  I must have passed a good three or four people giving me weird looks before I realized that to them I was talking to myself so I just looked crazy.  Whatevs.  They can judge all they want.  Sappho and I had a great chat ha.  

5. I'm reading again.  Whaaaattt???  For the first several weeks after school was done all I could do was watch TV and nap.  I watched so much trashy day time TV it was nuts.  But that was literally all my brain could handle.  Now I'm reading again.  Still working on the Highlander series and am still on book 2.  Not gonna lie, I feel like I need to write down a flow chart of who is who and who their allegiance lies with because I feel a little lost right now.  

6. I'm job hunting for a social work type job.  I feel perplexed about it.  Not about getting a job in my degree field, that I feel good about.  I feel perplexed about that whole, part time or full time, agency or hospital, stay a little picky or time to get flexible about what I'm looking for, etc etc.  Yesterday I made a pros and cons list to try to find some clarity and that process looked more like, write the list, throw the list across the room, pick the list back up, cook some food, stare at the list, add to the list, swear at the list, email some mentors, and eat peanut butter right out of the jar.  Productive is relative in this sense.   

7. I got to spend a great Sunday with some awesome ladies doing brunch and swimming and getting drinks pool side and now I want that like, every weekend.  It also brings up my need for water and my desire to go swimming. Time to start harassing the HOA people to get my damn pool key.  

8. I dyed the bottom part of my hair dark purple about 4 weeks ago.  It took 4.5hours to get it done, and for about two weeks every time I took a shower it looked like I had murdered Barney in my shower.  Now that it has faded a bunch my hair is now less dark purple and more red/brown.  It's pretty, and it's kinda like getting two colors in one, and as much as I want to do it again, if it's just going to fade this quickly, I'm hesitant to drop that much money on it again.  

9. We got a living social deal for some house cleaning, and the cleaning itself was only so-so, but their customer service was hideous.  I will never be using them again.  We decided to shop around though for another person/service because not arguing about the cleaning and who "should" have done what and when etc is so worth budgeting in someone to come in even if only once a month right now.  

10. I've taken up kickboxing (not like, cardio kickboxing.  I mean I have hot pink wraps, black gloves and I wail on a heavy bag kind of kickboxing) and crossfit.  I love both, but I love kickboxing more.  There's something so damn satisfying about being able to kick and hit a heavy bag.  That sounds really violent but I mean that in the most constructive way possible.  I've been told by more than one person that I would be a good fighter and should consider training to fight.  I have serious reservations about this.  First, and most importantly, getting hit hurts.  We partner up and hold shield mats for our partners to kick and hit and I usually partner with a friend of mine and goddamn, even through a shield bag her kicks sting a bit.  And that's with me bracing into them like you're supposed to.  Beyond that, kicking a heavy bag hurts me.  So not only does getting kicked hurt, but giving them hurts to.  I know I'm building a tolerance for it because every week it hurts less and less (except for my friend's kicks, those are getting stronger...) but one of my kicks at full force against a heavy bag definitely smarts.  That being said, taking a body shot I'm much more okay with than getting hit in the face.  I have no desire to find out what it feels like to get hit in the face.  I also have no desire to hit anyone else in the face.  Maybe if fighting consisted of body shots only I would consider it.  But for now, I like my face a lot, I don't like getting hurt or hurting someone else, so I'll stick to wailing on a heavy bag.  

The Dog Got Sick, and Then Thanksgiving Happened, and Now There's Pine Everywhere

Anyone else feel like Thanksgiving snuck in the back door, showed up unannounced, and then left down the fire escape like a dirty little mistress leaving you to feel used and almost unable to enjoy it all?  Yeah, me too.  

But before Thanksgiving could sneak up on me, our poor dog got sick.  We have no idea what she ate, or how she got it, but she somehow managed to get a bacterial infection in her small intestine, which basically means that she had a hose spewing poop colored water out of her butt for three whole days.  Not pretty.  So after an accident all over her crate when I had to go to school, two nights without sleep because she had to go out every couple of hours, a really gross stool sample for the vet, $100+ at the vet's office for antibiotics and an anti-diarrhea shot, five days later and she's finally almost back to her normal self.  Poor thing, such a trooper.  Even when she had her accident she had this look of utter shame when I got home.  Normally I don't handle the poop, that's the husband's job, but I didn't even care this time.  I just wanted to make sure she was okay.  But even though she was clearly not feeling well, she still was her usual self, wanting food, wanting to play, wanting to go on walks, which is why I didn't take her in for a couple days when I first noticed... the problem...  Our vet suggested a bland diet of white rice, pasta and low fat cottage cheese (all things I don't eat, btw) for about 3-4 days, half walks a ton of water and Imodium AD as needed.  Some things I learned through this whole thing: diarrhea isn't really something to get super concerned about, unless it goes on for several days or if there is vomiting.  Vomiting apparently is the big red flag.  Bananas don't bind dogs like they do people.  And dogs can have Imodium AD as needed (this is one of the million reasons why I love our vet, he's practical and will often give us OTC people substitutes for the animal only prescription to save us a bunch of money).  

All the vet stuff of course had to happen the day before Thanksgiving.  And while I was balls out excited for the holiday, my dog also has a sensitive stomach, and 13 people were coming over, and I was worried that all the excitement would upset her tummy even worse and I'd spend half my time baking bread rolls (but they're just bread rolls - lol, mom) and half my time letting her outside so her butt could explode.  But she did great!  No exploding butt to speak of, she slept through the night and we were able to minimize the amount of people food she ate (probably had something to do with me parroting over and over again to the kids, "Can you help me be the doggy police?  Doggy doesn't get any people food, okay?  Go!" Amazing what you can get done when you give a 4year old a job).  The holiday as a whole though kinda passed me in a blur.  All of the sudden I was elbowing my way through the lines at the grocery store because it was the Sunday before, and then it was the day before and after the vet I was making the first batch of bread rolls, and then people were here and we were all over eating and now my fridge is still packed full of leftovers I don't even know what to do with myself.  It was definitely a wham, bam, thank you ma'am kind of a holiday.  Even though it went by so fast, I am full of pleasant memories (even the blurry ones) from the day and new inside jokes with friends, some old and some new.  I was full of contentment and thanks on that day.  I even managed to squeeze in a video chat session with my family back in California.  :)  

Now Thanksgiving is over and so Christmas is in full swing (I always feel like there's no recuperating time between Thanksgiving and Christmas - they both just happen in such excess right after the other).  Christmas songs are on all the radio stations, tree lots are appearing everywhere and fresh pine wreaths and bags of pine cones are filling up up the stores.  I know that they put things like wreaths and pine cones at the entrance and near the registers because they're hoping to trigger your brain as you walk into the store to buy it, and then reminding you again as you are about to leave that you should buy it.  Normally it doesn't bother me.  But today as I was checking out at the store picking up a few things for the week, the cashier person looked at me with genuine concern and empathy and asked if I was okay and if there was anything she could do for me.  At first I was like, wtf is up with this chick?  And then it dawned on me that my swollen, red, watery eyes and constant sniffling was making me look like I had just been dumped by someone.  So as I calmly explained to her that I'm totally fine just really allergic to pine, hoping to clear up the confusion and have a good laugh, she looked even more forlorn and said in almost a whimper, "Oh honey, you're allergic to Christmas."  ::face palm::

I've been allergic to pine for a really long time, and my allergy has gotten progressively worse as I've gotten older.  First it started off with me being a kid and needing to decorate the tree in long sleeves, pants, socks and gloves because I'd break out into hives if I touched it.  Then I started to get respiratory infections in addition to the hives.  Then I had to stay upstairs when my mom would cut up the tree after Christmas because it would send me into a full blown asthma attack. Then I had to stay outside when it happened.  Finally by the time I was a teen and I was having to practically sit in another room to open presents while I nursed a bitchin' cough and was sucking on an inhaler, my mom suggested a fake tree.  Nonsense, I said.  My sister is allergic to cats and we don't have fake cats, do we?  That argument stopped holding up when my mom had to spend the rest of Christmas day in urgent care with me.  So, now we still have real cats, but fake trees.  ::shrugs:: I'm still hunting for a fake tree that doesn't look anorexic and has nice full branches.  

Needs

I had written this post a couple weeks ago, but didn't post it right away (obviously) and I'm glad because it gave me a chance to go through and rethink some things.  

I help facilitate a breast cancer survivors group at my internship this year and a couple of things have come up as a theme: cancer as a gift and relationships.  Cancer as a gift?  Wtf?  Two women put it best I think.  One said, "Cancer forced me to look at myself in ways that I wasn't ready to do."  The other said, "Cancer forced me to prioritize.  Who gives a shit about all the stupid shit that we hold on to that makes us angry?  My time may be limited.  I want to be happy.  So I let all that stupid shit go."  These amazing women with their beyond amazing stories all nod in agreement with these statements and talk about the relationships in their lives that they have always known need work, but never got around to fixing.  (Indulge this brief aside.  I have also sat in on prostate support groups and can I just take a moment to appreciate the profound difference in how men and women work in terms of support, education, outreach etc?  My breast cancer survivor group is all women, the prostate is clearly all men, and how they run group, how they answer questions, how they tackle things, SO different.  It's crazy)  The main theme that came up around relationships was that when you get cancer, they all change.  

Now, relationships change over time no matter what.  Our parents stop treating us like we're five, hopefully, and even our relationships with friends and spouses change as we grow up and change ourselves.  The rules of the relationships change.  We all know it.  But we rarely talk about it.  So here we are, players in the game, aware that the rules have changed, but don't know what they've changed to, so we go about playing by the old rules or we start making up our own and don't tell the other players.  And then we wonder why things don't work out when conflict comes up (the cynical person inside me defines this as job security - but we try not to listen to her all the time).  

So as these women are talking about the pain of relationships lost with their friends, their family, their children, whomever, I took a risk and asked if anyone took a leap of faith and clearly stated what they needed from the other person now that things were different.  Every single one of them said no.  Then a woman shared a story about her experience with equine therapy, where she was given the activity of getting the horse to stay put as they walked away and how at first she gave the command, but the horse kept coming.  She shared her experience about how it took several repeats before she finally made it very clear, inside and out, that the horse was to not move, and then it didn't, and how this made her think of her relationships and what they might be like now if she had taken the time to be clear, inside and out, about what she needed.  

Asking for or stating what we need isn't about being demanding or an entitled asshole.  It's about acknowledging that the people we love in our lives are not mind readers and it's really unfair for us to hold them to this standard because they will always fail and disappoint us.  If we can take the risk to state, with compassion of course, what we really need from the people we love, chances are we'll get it, and then everyone will know the new rules, and our relationships can go on a little less damaged.  Imagine how amazing you'll feel when you tell your loved one, "My birthday is this friday, and I would love to feel loved and to me that looks like flowers, a sushi dinner, and then wine, chocolate and a movie while we snuggle on the couch."  And then it happens.  You feel loved, and your honey just took an opportunity to show you that they not only hear you, but can be that for you.  That's like, a triple win.  

Sometimes when we ask for something we need, it really pisses the other person off.  Sometimes it's because, whatever their story is, they are unable to be what you need for them, and that has not only triggered that past trauma, but now probably makes them feel useless.  Sometimes the person is self-absorbed, not necessarily in a bad or selfish way, but some people's bubbles around themselves are bigger than others, and so it takes them looking and feeling a little farther outside of themselves to connect with other people, and so they literally just can't hear what your needs are.  Regardless of the millions of reasons why your needs might be received badly, we feel rejected.  And then it feels unsafe to ever be vulnerable with that person ever again.  AND, it's still important to take that risk to let them know.  Just like it's okay for you to say that the rules have changed, it's okay for them to say that they don't like the new rules.  I haven't quite figured out what you do with a relationship when you get to this point, but the best I can figure is that you work on forgiving that person and evaluate whether or not you take the risk to try again.  I find myself coming from the place of hope that the people we love do love us back, and are able and willing to find common new rules with us as our relationships change and don't undervalue our needs.  But sometimes you also have to look at the hard truth of just cutting the dead weight from your life.  

"Hey I Just Met You...."

Thanks, Jil.  Now I have this version of the song totes stuck in my head :P

Roller Skating

In short, not as easy as I remember.  


Our dear friend, Jen, had the brilliant idea to host her birthday party at a roller skating rink.  Pretty sure I haven't been on roller skates since I was a teenager but I know I have strong legs, and my balance is decent, so I figured it would be relatively easy.  Oh how wrong was I.  


I knew I was in trouble when, mind you I'm sitting on a bench, I was putting the skates on I almost fell on my freaking face.  As a fitness person, who loves squats, and whose quads are way stronger than my calves, my natural instinct is to put all my weight on my heels, especially when I lose my balance.  But when you do that in skates it forces you on to the back two wheels and propels that foot forward and then you fall.  While I was tying to lace up my skates I put too much weight in my heel and my foot shot out from underneath me and I totally almost ate it.  Standing wasn't too bad, but moving, impossible.  


I knew that the key was to keep my knees slightly bent.  Somehow that didn't help because at one point I was like, I'm in an effing squat and about to fall over still.  I also found out that going fast, while scary, is way easier than going slow.  Proficient skaters can do the cross over foot thing to turn, I cannot.  I keep both feet on the ground as much as possible.  So I had to do a lot leaning and toe steering and the outside of my calves immediately started to burn.  Oh my god, my legs got such a good work out.  


There were of course those people who were AMAZING on skates.  I don't go to roller rinks often, hardly ever, but you figure out pretty quickly that the people who don't know what the fuck they're doing stick to the walls, and the people who do know what they're doing, stay toward the middle.  I was a wall hugger for sure.  But there was that guy who would speed by within inches of me, making me jump and grab the wall for dear life.  A friend in our party, a former derby girl, said she had to restrain herself from doing a hip check every time he came by.  Thanks doll, I appreciate that.  


But there was this one guy, this older guy, with glasses and greying hair who was such a sweetie, the kind of guy who would skate forward holding some terrified stranger's hands just so they could skate backward.  He was that guy would would go to the center of the rink and do fancy spins and clap and dance to the music.  And he was that guy who had that car, that old, vintage car with the super loud start and the custom paint job.  He was also that guy that was kind enough to join us for our trunk cake party afterwards (because the stupid roller rink wouldn't let us bring birthday cake in without paying a party deposit...)

Happy Birthday Jen!