Fat Bottomed Girls

Last summer was not a banner year in the battle against lardosity. (Like the war against terror, it is an ongoing battle concurrently taking place on many fronts.) Things started out pretty well with a June beach trip that involved lots of walking, swimming and outdoorsy stuff, but then fell apart pretty quickly after I decided to join the LA Fitness down the street. Call me crazy, but being called fat (and DUH, why did he think I was there?), hit in the face with a medicine ball, and told to "mush" like a sled dog by an employee who was trying to sell me an add on fitness package, all while a group of gym rats looked on, did not exactly leave my motivation to go back at a high point. Add to that a dog and flipflop related foot injury and the War on Lard was all but lost.

Back in college, a friend and I used to go to the gym together almost every night. At the time, we used to joke about how most of the gym's male employees would climb over a fat girl passed out on the treadmill just to get in better flirting range of a blonde with implants. Finding myself in the role of fat girl embarassed me, then pissed me off sufficiently enough to pen a Grandpa Simpsonesque "Dear modern bride..." type membership cancellation letter, which was then completely ignored by the customer service drones at their headquarters. After that, I swore I'd never have anything to do with corporate fitness again.

Slowly as my foot has healed, I've started working my way back into exercising a bit. It started with some walking, then Wii fit, and last weekend I got my bike back out of storage. Then, my friend finally succeed in her nine month crusade to get me to join her gym. After my experience at the other place, I was really reticent, but her gym was running a special online (no initiation fee, $29 month to month membership, and I can go to any of their locations in the country), so I figured I didn't have anything that wasn't already jiggly to lose. Tonight we went to work out for the first time. Much to my surprise, it did not make me feel self-conscious, but really good. The woman who processed my membership card did not exactly overwhelm me with information about how things work there, but that was actually perfect for me. At this point, I prefer to just do my own thing. I basically know what I need to do to get in shape.

The low pressure approach left me feeling excited about what I was doing. It was actually fun to go work out with a friend. By the time we were done, a lot of the stress that had accrued during my work day had melted away. That alone is worth a lot! Hopefully we will be able to keep each other motivated. If we can (and why wouldn't we?), this summer is poised to be a much healthier one than the last. No doubt, I have a long way to go, but ultimately, you have to meet yourself where you are. Where I am today is feeling pretty good about having begun to do something good for myself!

A Day of Rest

Do you ever get to the point where even though the past few weekends have been almost unbearably fun (barbeques, basketball games, foreign visitors, etc.), your work weeks have become so hectic and tiring that the only left to do is call a moratorium on all mentally and physically stressful activities and proclaim a day of rest? That is exactly what things have come to this weekend.

A day of rest is not for everyone. My 70 year old mother would sit down for five minutes, then next thing you know, she'd be out back cutting down a tree or adding an East wing onto the house. This happened a few weeks ago, when we were "relaxing" in the garden after a really lovely barbeque with friends. Nose deep in a book, I looked up from my chaise lounge in the shade of our dwarf apple tree just in time to see her stride by with a bow saw. Suffice it to say the ailing Chain of Gold tree that once graced our back yard has been saved the trouble of a slow wasting away. I won't even tell you about the time she single handedly brought down a large blue spruce, but I will say that it is this kind of unsavory "getting things done" that causes me to live in constant fear of waking up one morning to a hole in the ceiling with her waving down at me while cheerfuly proclaiming that she's almost done with the second story and my room is the lucky winner for where to put the staircase.

My idea of rest is something quite different. It requires pajamas, a large quantity of refreshing beverage, a snack (today it is cherries), a faithful companion (example pictured above, but any manner of dog or cat will do - even a rabbit or ferret is acceptable, so be creative! Caution: I would, however, not recommend a goldfish - or any manner of fish, really - as they are not good cuddlers), and (most importantly) a good book. If additional eating must be done, it should really be takeout or, at the very least, cooked by someone else. I may eventually get dressed if I feel like it, but the rule of the day is: If it is not in some way satisfying or relaxing, I don't do it. As a result, it is well past noon, I am still wearing my new surf monkey pajamas (I highly recommend the Nick & Nora line for the kind of whimsical patterns that make staying in your pajamas all day worthwhile!) and I don't care, because studies have shown that sock monkey pajamas have great restorative properties. After only one night of wearing them, for the first time in weeks, I was able to sleep in on a Saturday morning instead of waking up at six or seven. I don't think I need to point out how wrong that is. Praise the Holy Sock Monkey, I am cured!

Today's book of choice is Cornelia Funke's Inkheart, because I often find that young adult novels make for good escapist reading. They take me back to my youth when my mind could become so absorbed into a story that I could spend hours imagining myself as one of its characters, long after the actual reading of it was finished. And this is a book about books and characters who love books, so I know it will be thoroughly loveable:

Stacks of books were piled high all over the house - not just arranged in neat rows on bookshelves, the way other people kept them, oh no! The books in Mo and Meggie's house were stacked under tables, on chairs, in the corners of the rooms. There were books in the kitchen and books in the lavatory. Books on the TV set and in the closet, tall piles of books, books thick and thin, books old and new. They welcomed Meggie down to breakfast with invitingly opened pages; they kept boredom at bay when the weather was bad. And sometimes you fell over them.

Maybe it's because this sounds a lot like my last grad school apartment or maybe it's because it is filled with characters with names like Dustfinger and Silvertongue (who can bring fictional characters to life just by reading aloud!), but I have high hopes for this book that cannot even be dashed by the existence of a Brendan Frasier movie version that I never saw, but suspect could have done better with a healthy dose of Johnny Depp (mostly because I feel that Johnny Depp ca. Chocolat should play some role in all movies and I had already developed a Deppian picture in my head for Meggies dark and devestatingly handsome, bohemian father and he looks nothing like old, thick-necked Brendan Frasier who was fine in The Mummy, but has no role in the Inkheart movie in my head).

Later, if I can work up the energy to find the remote, I may watch a little Buffy or Angel while eating Chinese takeout directly from the box, but for now, my day is Inkheart, pajamas and wearing an ass groove into the couch. But that is all for now, because I have a whole lot of nothing to get done and I'm already behind schedule.

Let's start at the very beginning...

The overwhelmingly glorious and sunny weather here in Portland has for the past few weeks been in large part responsible for my unplanned vacation from Blogland. Late spring and early summer always a bit of a crap shoot as we move from the rainy season into the less rainy season and, finally, the two weeks we call "summer" here in Oregon. This year, however, we have been blessed with May weather fit for the gods, which made our first bout of sunshine the perfect time to skip the bike ride I'd had planned with a non-Captain loving (but very understanding) friend to stay inside and go to a movie.

Crazy, I know. But this wasn't just any movie! This was Cinema 21's singalong showing of The Sound of Music, an event I've wanted to go to for ages. In years past, I've always managed to find out about it just after it was over. This time, however, I faithfully remained on heightened Code Red Von Trapp alert from March-May until Portland's non-Nazi answer to Rolf (aka Willamette Week) provided me with a telegram (aka advertisement) for the showing. After singing a duet of "60 going on 70" (because I'm slightly albeit still depressingly closer to 60 than 16), we went our separate ways, but not before dancing in a gazebo to promises that WW would look out for me, because I'm just a dumb girl who needs a newspaper of masculine intelligence to take care of me.

The thing about singalong Sound of Music is that it's The Sound of Music AND you can sing along with the movie and - get this! - NOT GET KICKED OUT OF THE THEATER! These things were made to go together, like peanutbutter and chocolate, braised red cabbage and apples, alpenhorns and stupid hats! So, on the big day we headed off to Muu Muu's for lunch (even after many years, a Muu Muu Burger and fries with and a side of brutus dressing are a thing of great delight!) and then got in line with a lot of other people to wait for the show.

Inside we were offered little bags containing plastic edelweiss and champagne-shaped confetti poppers for the party scene and advice for how to make the viewing more fun (like the singing along wasn't enough!). Still, the announcer was charming and it's hard not to be entertained at a movie where the audience includes a girl wearing a teapot on her head (she'd rode in on Max that way and won a prize for her costume!) and a family who had brought along a cardboard boat and waves to go along with their "play clothes" made from real curtains.

The cool thing about seeing a movie that I've seen a million times in that environment was that for all the silliness and talking back at the screen, it actually made me see the film with new eyes. For example, I'd never noticed how progressively darker the sets and lighting become as the story turns toward dealing with Nazism. As a kid I was too busy mooning over how handsome Captain von Trapp was to be bothered with such details. Back then it was all about the music, the Ländler (still my favorite scene in the movie, because the dance always reminds me of my Oma and the folk dances she loved) and the love story.

Like many little girls who grew up watching it, that movie always takes me back. I remember the first time my mom took me to see it on the big screen. Even then it was already at least a re-re-release. Afterwards, my little neighbor friend and I played the soundtrack album over and over, singing to it until we'd learned all the words. Then we took our show on the road, singing "Do re mi" at the top of our lungs as we played on the swingset in the back yard. And that's what's so fun about singalongs and silliness - it lets us be kids again.

How many times do you get to go out as an adult and yodel with reckless abandon while sitting in a crowded movie theater? Almost NEVER, that's when! Trust me. People don't like it! And, even if you did try, how often would someone yodel back at you? Sure, maybe if there were a particularly bold representative from the Helvetian Singing Society in the audience too, but how often does that happen? And you KNOW that you'd both be invited to leave before ever learning how to solve a problem like Maria. That is why the next time the hills are alive with singalong Sound of Music you should go. That way you'll get the yodeling out of your system and no longer be in peril of having a lonely goatherd attack at in a wrong cineplex at the wrong time. The audience at Pirates of the Carribbean 46: Yo ho ho and a bottle of Metamucil will thank you!

The darling buds of May

Helllllllllloooooooooooooooooo May! Hello Mayday! Hooray workers! Hello Beltaine and Walpurgisnacht! As someone who has recently determined that what the world needs is for me to have a Solstice picnic next month, I am deeply saddened that I did not remember about Beltaine or Walpurgisnacht until today. I feel like I should have thought ahead about the bonfire. I had planned to go to Ikea tonight, and I bet those Swedish killjoys won't let me light one there. Why must life be so unfair?

But I've got news for you, Ikea! It may be a little windy this morning, but the weather is getting nicer, the garden is bursting with blossoms and we are on the precipice of the sunny season. There are plenty of spring flowers to be gathered and candles to light for impromptu celebrations at my house. So take that, lye eaters! Thwarted again! (Not really, Swedes are lovely, Ikea has a computer armoire that I really want, I don't need to invoke bad shopping karma on such a momentous day, and I am sure lutefisk is "special". And, hey, who am I to judge? I come from people who smoke eels and eat pickled herring.)

Back to the Future

Because it is Saturday evening, my feet are swollen, and my beverage spilled all over the floor while I was painting my bedroom (if you've never played with Behr's Color Smart application, by the way, it is totally filled with painty goodness...it helped me find my color scheme!), I am taking a break. Instead of sitting and watching the paint dry, I have stolen a 2005 iTunes meme from Jen's blog.

Don't worry, she won't care. She's too busy admiring the BEAUTIFUL origami crane I recently mailed her. If origami crane making were American Idol and Paula Abdul were the judge, she would say "Well, first of all, you look incredible tonight. The paper was crumpled and backwards in parts, but you really made the crane your own." Randy, on the other hand, would have called me "dog" and kept it real by saying "It just isn't good," but what does he know about art?

Set your iPod/iTunes on shuffle and use each song as it comes up in order to answer the following questions:

Question: What do you think of me, iTunes?
Apple Blossom - The White Stripes: iTunes LOVES me and wants to marry me. In typical me fashion, I didn't even know it felt that way! Apparently iTunes thinks I'm a little bit of a mess, but it is willing to fix me: Come and sit with me and talk awhile/ let me see your pretty little smile / put your troubles in a little pile /and i will sort them out for you. You're so chivalrous iTunes! I'm totally batting my eyelashes at you.

Question: Will I have a happy life?
Sugar Daddy - John Cameron Mitchell (from the Hedwig and the Angry Inch Soundtrack) : Apparently I've underestimated the value of looking for a man to make me happy, but I've seen the error of my ways. I'm not going to get every item in the Lillian Vernon catalog by paying my own way! If hitching my star to a wealthy, handsome (I added that part, but I know iTunes won't mind!) beau is the ticket to happiness, I guess I'll just have to take one for the team. (The team being me.)

Question: What do my friends really think of me?
Drunkards Waltz - Joel Savoy: Ok. Before I remembered its title, I was completely charmed by the idea of having this as my theme song. It involves a violin and has such a sweet, dancey melody. It reminds me of stars and summer nights and dancing outside, and that totally makes up for the fact that people apparently think I'm a lush. On the up side, based on this song, I am a fun, happy drunk. And you KNOW you'd rather be around that than a mean one!

Question: Do people secretly lust after me?
Is that you, Modean? - The B-52's: Possibly, but only because they think I am Modean. Should I be offended that they think I look old enough to have been away for 987 years in outer space time?

Question: What should I do with my life?
L'Accordeoniste - Ute Lemper: Prostitution!?!? That was one that did NOT come up as a career path when I took the Keirsey Temperament sorter! Then again, I always have wanted a job where I could set my own hours. Still, I don't know. When I said "corner office", I wasn't so much thinking "street corner".

Question: Why must life be so full of pain?
Musical Key - Cowboy Junkies: This song has such a pretty, haunting melody and lyrics (favorite line: My mother's hands were always cool and soft / And like her eyes they would caress with every touch.)Even though it doesn't mention it, it always reminds me of someone remembering someone she has lost. Way to bring me down, iTunes!

Question: How can I maximize my pleasure during sex?
Si j'aurai des ailes - Ann Savoy & Joel Savoy: Go to the bar, laugh and drink, but under no circumstances get married! O quand on se marrie on est là après s’ennuyer / Toujours en regrettant nos jolis temps passés

Question: Will I die happy?
Brown Eyed Girl - Van Morrison: Looking back, I will have many happy memories of making love in the green grass, but only if I get some colored contacts.

Question: Can you give me some advice?
Perhaps - Cake: Oh, iTunes, are you just being coy or are you trying to say that I am indecisive? Me? Indecisive? You know me too well, iTunes. If you can't make your mind up. We'll never get started . . . if you really love me, say yes, but if you don't dear, confess and please don't tell me: perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

Question: What do you think happiness is?
A Little Less Conversation - Elvis: Hee. A little more action indeed!

Question: Am I complete freak?
Dance with Me - Justin Timberlake. If it's on the dance floor, I am! I mean well, even if my pervy goal in life is to get people nekkid on a 3 minute time table (aka before the song is up): No disrespect, I don't mean no harm."

Walking in Washington

Sunday's walk was (if I'm going to be honest) more of a drive. There was a little walking, but the outing was mostly just about getting OUT and away from town. After a winter inside, it was so nice to just hop in the car, open the sunroof, put on some tunes and head out on the highway for a mini-motor along the Columbia River. I should have been home planting the plants I bought on Saturday (my quest for hellebores has ended victoriously!), but couldn't resist bypassing my normal exit on the way home from church in favor of heading away from town.

Before gas went up to a jillion dollars a gallon last summer, the weekend day trip was a common one. As prices climbed, however, the trips became fewer and further apart. This year, I really do want to try to get out a little more, even if it means selling a kidney for gas money. To mix things up on this first spring drive, we drove out the Gorge on the Washington side and back on I-84. Every time I am out that way, I am reminded of how lucky I am to live in the Northwest. All this beauty within a half hour of my house! How much luckier could I be?

Ubiquitously Pink!

The weather here in the Portland area has been absolutely gorgeous and springy these past few days. While my coworkers in the upper Midwest have been dealing with spring snow storms, it was a balmy 80 degrees when I left work last night. Blue skies. Pink blossoms abound. Everywhere you look there are magnolias and Japanese plums blooming.

In my quest to do lot of things (lose weight, walk more, make it up to 10,000 steps a day on my pedometer, take more pictures), I have decided to try to go for a daily (or maybe just daily-ish) picture walk. My first official walk was last Friday, around the area where I work. Here is what I saw:

A cluster of small fir trees growing next to a freeway offramp

Pretty pink blossoms on the hill behind my office

And, my favorite photo of the day. Pink. Delicate. Lovely.