Parking... AGAIN!!!

I know, I can't believe I am writing another post about the parking here but I AM!!! Frustration is NOT the word for this morning. Irritation is not really strong enough.

It's more like... IR-RO-TA-SHONE!!!!

I have now missed Bible Study AND church because I am now stuck between two neighbors cars who are, themselves, wedged between cars that should not be there. I was supposed to be at bible study at 9:00 this morning. Missed that. Church started at 10:30. Thought "Surely someone will move by then". That would be a negatory, Ghost rider. At 10:25, I started my walk down the street to all of my neighbors homes. After waking them up, most were very nice and understood the problem. However, unfortunately, being nice is not a superpower with cars and the one particular car that I am talking about has been around for awhile: bumps and dings around the car and the trunk is taped up... with duct tape. I have listened for voices. I have heard nothing.

I do have lunch plans to take my sweet friend out for lunch for her birthday but this appears to be a no go at this point.

Suggestions, friends? What say you?

Parking: Part II

OK. Sorry for the delay. Unfortunately, because it has taken me so long to get this written down, there have actually been a two more funny episodes that have happened since the parking issue but, as with many sanguine personalities, I can no longer remember them. I just remember thinking, Oh My Gosh! I am totally going to blog about this!!! Now... my memory is shot.

So, let's move along on this story before I forget this one as well...

The parking saga...

If you will remember, a while back I posted and entry about the territorial neighbors that I live around. It went something like this. Review at your leisure.

So, because there are such issue with parking in this community, the HOA has given out parking notices to each resident to place on people's cars if there is a problem with parking. They are little squares of paper that say stuff like: You are parked illegally in this place based on the following qualifications:
- parked in someone else's parking place without permission
- parked going the wrong direction
- parked on the curb
- parked too far from the curb
- parked in front of a hydrant
- parked in front of a house with a door
- parked on concrete
- parking brake depressed on this park job
- your car has windshield wipers
- you have a first and last name
- you pay monstrous dues for HOA and yet we need more money.

You get the drift...

I have to be honest, due to the geographic location of the condo where I live, it is very common for other people to park in my parking place in front of the condo. We are the first condo when you pull into the street so it offers mucho convenience for everyone... except me when I come home from work and there is someone parked in my spot. I don't generally get angry easily. I get irritated sometime over stupid stuff but usually, I find most things funny.

I do NOT find this funny. I honestly get really TICKED when someone is parked in my parking place. Why? BECAUSE I KNOW THOSE JOKERS WHO LIVE AROUND ME ARE GOING TO CALL THE COPS AND MAKE 'EM WRITE ME A TICKET IF I PARK ANYWHERE ELSE BESIDES IN FRONT OF MY CONDO!!!

That is why.

I would by lying if I told you I had not put a few of those tickets up on the windshields of cars parked illegally in my parking place. HOWEVER, I always leave nonabrasive notes attached. NOT like the one that I got with threats of tow trucks and doggy disposal. In fact, this is what I wrote on the last parking notice I left on a truck with a Texas license plate...

"Hi! I LOVE Texas people and so I am sure that you guys are great but unfortunately, this is a personal parking place and I don't have anywhere else to park so, even though you are visiting and probably didn't know, please park near the pool so I can park in my correct spot. Enjoy your visit! :)"

Hello!! I practically offered to be there tour guide for the duration of their trip. Nonabrasive? I would call it really overly friendly. Probably obnoxious to some. My sister would totally roll her eyes if she got that message so I am sure some people would gag. Sorry. Love me, love all of me. Anyway, they got the message (because I was watching out the window) and put it in their truck and left. When they came back , they parked in front of their host's condo. I felt a warm fuzzy feeling.

UNTIL...

The next morning, I received a parking notice on my car that was parked IN MY OWN PARKING SPOT for the following reasons:
- parked going the wrong way
- parked on the curb
- being a generally nice person.

OK - I'm kidding about the last one but I am NOT kidding about the parking notice. What? Someone has their feathers ruffled when they parked in the wrong place.

I am so very black and white in so many cases.

My feelings were kind of hurt because that is just unnecessarily ridiculous. Then, when I came home that day, I parked off the curb and going the correct way.

I am big enough to admit and take responsibility for my mistakes. And I fixed them.

Still irritated that they gave me a notice in my own parking place. Just for meanness.

Why?

Yo no se!

I should have Vivi leave them a present. She is so sweet.

It's Chilly Here... Better Grab Your (Strait) Jacket

I wish I could state in detail the regularity of ridiculousness of my Tuesday morning appointments. I mean seriously. The fundamental characteristic that must be present in order to get an appt with me is that you must be nuts. I must caveat here.... there are some very good friends who at one time, were perhaps scheduled for an appt with me on a Tuesday morning.



I AM NOT TALKING TO YOU.



I am talking to the people who leave me feeling like I need medication directly following the appt. I do not seek intentional friendship with these people. I try to keep my crazy friends separate from my crazy patients. There is a line and try to walk it carefully. That being said, let's continue on with my crazy life...



Chapter 36 - story #42



Last Tuesday, I was scheduled for an appt with a precious little kiddo. Precious, I say. Well behaved and clean. Cute as a button. I would totally take him to the park. His family... not so much. Characters in this story include precious little **Ethan (**Names have been changed to protect the guilty and myself.), Mama, and Granny Agnes. It is very important to note that Mama and Granny Agnes are related by marriage, there is no blood between them except bad. They are daughter and mother-in-law. Let the fun begin...



Every one transitions nicely to the room. Little Ethan is playing nicely. Granny Agnes needs to lay off the smokes. Mama needs to grow a backbone. This is strictly my initial analysis and they pay me well for it. There is enough going on in this evaluation appt that there is no way to cover the entire cock-a-maminess (I might have just come up with a new word?) so I will hit the high points. These are the TOP TEN actual quotes said...


10. (Christi says "Why are you here today?") "I don't know. Granny Agnes, why don't you tell 'er." - Mama, scared and insecure

9. "He ain't talked right." - loud and proud by Granny Agnes

8. "SHOCKING!!!!" - thought bubble quote by Christi

7. "Well, she don't keep no structure and let's just.... let's just say that.... let's just say that we's different in hows we growed up the kids. I just slap 'em and tell to get their _ _ _ _ together 'cuz I ain't got time for none a that nonsense." - Granny Agnes

6. "Wait, for real? Did you just seriously say that?" - thought bubble quote by Christi



5. "We's just not used to lettin' kids write on the walls with crayons and scribblin on the cabinets with markers. I ain't just not puttin up with that. I finally went out and bought some markers and crayons and colored with 'em on the walls." - crazy ole Granny Agnes

4. "I grew up depressed and a place where we just feel everything and I know I'm sensitive but they're just mean." -venting by Mama and answered by Granny Agnes with this... "Oh, we are not mean. You don't take care of your kid and I don't have the time. Well, YEAH we tell dirty jokes and we cuss at each other and we use some pretty hard language, but _ _ _ _, you've gotta be kiddin me that you're sayin we's mean!?!?"


3. "Well, she let's 'em just sit around and watch TV all day and then she don't get 'em when he plays in the plugs." - Granny Agnes the antagonizer



2. "That ain't true!!!! I grew up in a depressed family and I just don't think there is anything wrong with being nice sometime. And anyway, she takes Ethan's diaper off and tells him to go pi... I mean, pee on grandpa and she thinks its funny!!!" - Mama the indignant


And the number one quote of the appt....

1. "Well, that WAS pretty funny!!!" - Granny Anges, the unpaid comedienne of preschool programs all over the US.

These "ladies" almost came to blows and there were defintely tears present and I'm not talking about the kiddo's tears. I have never seen anything like this at all. Classic and yet so disturbing.

Comprehensive speech language evaluation:

$647

Value of my time wasted on this evaluation

because the child is totally fine:

in the $1000's

Value of honest and stunningly ridiculous material gleaned for my next show:

PRICELESS,

of course!!!

There's a new drama in town...

... and I'm talking about tickets. Not the good kind of tickets ... you know, the tickets I got to the Travis Cottrell, Cindy Morgan, Shawn Groves concert on Thursday night are called the good kind of tickets. The Carrie Underwood tickets that I had on hold and forgot to purchase until I wanted to check my seats and realized my seats were now out in the parking lot of the Sommet Center on the night of the concert. Those would have been the good kind of tickets. The tickets to see Dorothy Hamill and her wedge haircut at the Ice Capades back in '77, those are good tickets (back in '77).

No, that's not the kind of tickets I am talking about.

You know...

Yeah.

Let me backtrack... as the two of you know who read this blog (or at least admit to reading this blog), I have moved in the last several weeks to some new diggs. They are great. I seriously am enjoying the roommate thing, the condo thing, even the downsizing thing. I am NOT digging the parking thing. And, because of the parking thing, I am not digging the neighbor thing either unfortunately.

I live in a three bedroom condo. There is one driveway and one car garage. It is not my condo and therefore, not my garage to park in which I am totally down with. Totally. I've never had a garage so this is normal to me. So, I park on the street. Along with MANY other people. The street is full of parked cars. I work late a lot and I got home around 8:30 a couple of weeks ago. Parked across the street fairly close to a stop sign but probably at least half a car length away from it. Maybe it was too close but the next morning, I get a piece of notebook paper on my car that says...

DO NOT PARK YOU CAR HERE.

YOU ARE BLOCKING THE EGRESS OF TRAFFIC!!

OK. Pretty much I've got two comments for that.

1) SO sorry for blocking the egress of traffic! Truly, I am.

2) What in the lulu is egress of traffic?

I know, I know... egress and ingress. I asked around. Anyway, so someone feels pretty solidly about the egress of traffic and I clearly am oblivious. For this, I am truly sorry and would love to apologize in person but, shockingly, they didn't leave their name on my sweet note.

So, I get home two nights ago and there were no places available in front of my condo. No biggie. I figure that the motto is "First Come, First Served" sorta like "Luby's Cafeteria" and I am also down with that. I go find another parking place and park about three doors dawn in the street. I get my things, walk to my condo and go upstairs to change. My roommate calls me after 3 minutes and says, "You have to go move your car."

"Why?"

"Because that girl just car down here and fussed about you having your car parked in front of her condo."

"Wait... what? She doesn't want me parking in front of her condo? It is a public street. Where am I supposed to park?"

I was told to go park in front of our driveway of which I was not going to do because of the pain it would cause in the morning. I did go move my car but I was scratching my head the whole time wondering how someone can actually expect on a public street for no one to park in front of their condo. Please help with this... seriously.

I come home last night at around 10:36. I used my good tickets and went with my good friend to see Travis, Cindy and Shawn who were really good! When I got back, of course, it was late on Thursday night. There was no place in front of my condo and I knew that I couldn't park in front of that lady's condo three doors down. So, I parked two doors down on the opposite side of the street.

I left my house this morning to go to work and when I got to my car, TWO pieces of paper. First paper said,

Please do not park you car here!

If you park here again, your car will be towed!

WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?! What is up with the peeps on my street? The street is lined with cars bumper to bumper and they will tow my car if I park in front of their condo? Totally don't get that.

Second piece of paper said,

PARKING CITATION

DOUBLE WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! What in the world am I getting a parking ticket for? I can vaguely read the offense - "...car ... more than 12".... curb".

I immediately called the police station (No, not 911 - I know you are wondering given my history with the rat) and spoke with multiple cops (one who sounded VERY similar to a good "law enforcement" officer in Alabama). Basically, the Bama cop told me that if I got a ticket in a residential area, it was 99% probability that someone had called them out to the car and asked them to write a ticket because they RARELY write a ticket in residential areas for parking unless it is a blatant error.

But, I got one and my sweet neighbor decided it was not enough that he call the cops and have them write a ticket but he needed to write his little love note about towing my car next time as well. Thanks for the heads up, Buddy.

Anyway, it is only $10 so it is not a big deal really but just in case you haven't heard, we are in a recession and that is $10 I could put towards... well anything I want. It's the principle

I need comments, ideas, validation... Am I crazy or what? How do they have any leg to stand on? Can he really have my car towed? I am I supposed to park in Kentucky and walk in or what? There is no designated parking. No painted parking spots, assigned or otherwise. Everyone lines the streets. I don't know...

And another question... the cop was clearly tired or hadn't had his doughnut and coffee last night at 11:56 PM when he wrote the ticket because the date on the ticket was December 12, 2008. When I told the Lt. I talked to today on the phone the date on the ticket, he said, "So, I guess he was predicting that you will be breaking the law on December the 12 at 11:56 PM, huh?" Is this ticket even valid if the info is wrong?

Am I in some twilight universe where Thursdays are actually Tuesdays and "public" means "get off" and neighbors are not neighborly? I feel like a little frog who all of a sudden feels like my backside is starting to bubble.... and I can't feel my legs...

Seriously, Daron... I know you have thoughts on this if you still read this blog? Amy, ask Jim. Alicen, have Scott crunch numbers. Mandy, have Mark build me a carport with his new designer brinks please. Charles... get the phone.

P.S. Travis was fantastic last night. His "Jesus Saves" live was UNBELIEVABLE! Go see the concert if they come to your area. Just watch where you park. :)

Phil, Farmers and Political Correctness

OK. I think today is the day to finish the story which, by now, is really beyond the funny state and circled back to un-funny. It was slightly humorous at best and, I'm guessing, more funny with my particular animation of the situation. So, unless you live here and were with me when this happened, this will be a let down for you.

Sorry.

However, I do have more stories to share. Some are hysterical though again, probably funnier with my entire re-enactment of it all, which thus far, I have shown to many and all agree, it loses something in translation to the written word. Plus, the choice of words should be tempered or at least filtered through a p.c. (political correctness) filter which, as Cass says, I clearly do not have in my possession. I don't know why she says that I am not politically correct. Truth is truth. As I said to her, just because somebody says the sky is purple, doesn't mean it is. It means that you are color blind or lying or uninformed. Please don't make me go philosophical on you guys and discuss the problems with moral relativism. Some things are just as they are, no matter what you call them. There are no gray areas in certain specific aspects of life just because we want there to be.

Just because someone doesn't want to be called short, doesn't mean that they aren't short. They are not "vertically challenged". It makes it sound like they had a choice and just weren't up for the challenge of growing. That is not what has happened. They are just short. It is not bad to be short. It just "is what it is" to quote a very overused phrase these days.

What about blonds? Are they brunette-challenged? No, they are cognitively-challenged.
NO, I AM JUST KIDDING. JUST SAID THAT TO GET A RISE OUT OF YOU ALL. WORKED, DIDN'T IT?!?!?!?!?!? SORRY! They are just blond. Even if they want to be called brunette and everybody starts to say that she is a brunette, she is still a blond. Unless she dyes her hair which is for another entry.

Likewise, just because someone doesn't want to be called tall, doesn't mean they aren't tall. I guess the P.C. term for this would be vertically SUPERIOR when compared with the converse of vertically challenged? Let's take an example, shall we? What about Yao Ming? You know, 7'6" Houston Rocket originally from China. Do you think, at 7'6" he thinks, "Yes. I truly am vertically superior." No. THIS is what he thinks.

"I am SICK AND TIRED of ducking through every stinkin' doorway that I come to."

"I am IRRITATED BEYOND BELIEF that Hoover doesn't make vacuum cleaners taller because I am getting back spasms by bending over to vacuum the carpet and don't get me started about the baseboards."

"I am RIDICULOUSLY ANNOYED at the fact that I am losing my hair because my head rubs the top of my Hyundai every time I wanna go to the store to get me a cheeseburger."

- and that is a lot of rubbin', my friends. Of course, he thinks all this in Chinese, but I think the translation is approximately the same. He does not think that he is vertically superior. He is JUST as frustrated as the short person and would probably prefer to just be called tall. End of statement. I have not spoken to him directly on this matter but I feel confident that he must feel similarly to this. If he happens to read this blog, please chime in, Yao, and let us know how you feel.

Seriously. I would like to know and put this P.C. stuff to rest. Can we just tell it like it is please? There is no need for unnecessary rudeness, but we should just come out with the truth more often in this country rather than trying to make everyone feel good about themselves and justify every single decision that is ever made as being a good decision. There are some decisions that are bad decisions and we shouldn't make them. Drunk driving - bad. Teaching three year olds how to play with a loaded weapon - bad. Eating rotten fruit - bad. Helping eldery people across the street (when they want to go across the street) - good. Working hard - good. Eating ripe fruit - good. There are some things that are really not up for debate. It seems that we have a society now where we glorify the individual over the good of the entire group by making the majority bend to accommodate one single person and what they want or demand or makes them feel better about themselves and their decisions no matter if it is beneficial to the greater number of people.

Think about in sports. I grew up where every child gets a trophy whether they won or not. We are rewarded for things we do not deserve rewards for simply by breathing in the same air as the winner. I am not saying be cruel and not affirm our children - please do not read that. I am saying that life is not fair and I feel like we are perpetuating a disservice to those by teaching that you will always gets rewarded and life will always hand you a trophy even if you don't win, don't put forth the effort, or don't even show up to practice. We end up with some very spoiled children growing up into adults continuing to make these unwise and morally relative decisions into adulthood and expecting to always get their way. We have football players crying because they cannot go to strip clubs, carry a weapon, be involved with the "wrong crowd" and not make 8 gazillion dollars for playing 13 games which amounts to approximately 36 hours of time. Ladies and gentlemen, this is less than a week's worth. Sometimes, life is just life. Bad things happen. Justice seems ill apparent at times. Families fracture and fall apart. Best friends and good people pass away. Hard-working (and cognitively superior blond) people lose jobs sometimes. It is not the happiest part of life but it is a very real part of life and we should be teaching our own how to deal with it productively and appropriately and not expect that your life will be ideal or that you deserve to expect ideal. We get back up and realize that yeah, you didn't get the trophy this time but next time, you might with some hard work and God's favor.

Just my 2 cents.

Wow. That kind of morphed into a topic bigger than PC, huh? I think maybe I had a chip on my shoulder about something. Huh -- how'd that get there?

Well, I kind of hope there are no professional athletes reading this because they are taking major hits today. Except for Payton. I see him all over TV all the time. He could play baseball with all the pitches he is making. Therefore, I excuse him and could justify him for requesting millions because he clearly works lot of overtime for his money. He makes good decisions and does a lot of good things for the community like a lot of other professional athletes do as well. I can just see the flood of hate mail now. Everyone, easy up. This is not a personal attack on professional athletes. This is just a little venting moment about a bigger issue than you guys. I do love me a little Payton Manning, though... and a little Eli. I so did not blog on the Superbowl and I so should have. Man, was that great or what?

OK, let's get back to the boring story of yestermonth.

Long and short of it... I had a blow out on I-65 on the way home. It was Tuesday and had started snowing that day. It was freezing and I had no coat or gloves. I have no AAA (Triple A) and I have no "male friend" to take care of this for me. (This is where I get lots of women writing saying, I DO have a male friend and I still have to take care of that kind of thing! Thank you so much for trying to make me feel better or at least that I am not hanging out in the boat all alone but I am not going to lie, I was still ticked about the lack of help.) However, I want to take a little time to introduce Phil.

Phil and Donna.

Phil and Donna _ _ _ _ _ (I am protecting the innocent. They might not want to be mentioned on this blog or be associated with the one writing this blog.)

I love these people. Love them. Love them.

She is tall and he is bald.

That's right. I said it.

I call them "Vertically Superior" and "Barely Hairly".

Well, I don't really do that because he is not really bald.

Kind of balding... but HUMANLY SUPERIOR with road side help!!!!

I wish you could hear the tone in my voice when I relay the phone conversation.

Christi: "Phil. Hey, it's Christi. Listen, I am on the side of the road on 65 and I just had a blow out. What should I do?"

Phil: (Calm, cool, and collected but upbeat) "Are you OK? Are you still on the road or were you able to pull off?"

Christi: "I am on the side of the road and am fine. About 3 exits from my house. Should I call someone to help me and who should that be?"

(Ladies, a side note, do your brains go out the window when you're cold? Yeah, me neither but when I am stuck on the side of the road, in the dark, without a coat and gloves, and it is snowing outside, I think it is safe to say, I checked out.)

Phil: (Still calm, cool and collected but upbeat) Do you have triple A? I would call them.

Christi: I don't have Triple A.

Phil: (Calm, cool, collected, but NOT upbeat. Think Eeyore on 'Winnie the Pooh') Where are you? I'll come help you out.

Christi: "Thanks so much, Eeyore." (Inside my brain but NOT verbalized - Why do I need Triple A when I can call Barely Hairly Triple P?)

Just kidding. I really and truly did not think that at all. I did think "what would I have done without him being here?" And, let's be honest. It was after 7 PM. It was dark. It was snowing. Who wants to change a tire? Who knows how to change a tire? Not us. Please, no lectures about me not being a mechanic. I have other skills. Car assembly or disassembly is not one of them.

Anyway, in a few minutes, I got a tap on my passenger window. It was "Vertically Superior". I rolled that window down and this is the conversation that ensues.

VS: "Hi there, Honey! Are you OK? I've got a blan-ket, a pil-low, some bottled wa-ter, and some warm zucchini bread in the car for you. Why don't you come on into my car and we'll let Phil take care of this and we'll get warm in over there!"

Christi: "AMEN, SISTER FRIEND!!!!!"

Who here wants "VS" for their friend? Yeah, that's what I thought.

So, please don't think I or we were that callous to let Phil do all of it. I offered moral eye support as we watched him and figured out that this would take additional help because the jack was inadequate for the job.

Blah, blah, blah...called my insurance company. (Shout out to Farmers.) They sent a pizza man out to change the tire for FREE. (I suppose "free" is a relative term because really, I have paid jacked up auto insurance prices for the last 20 years so that when I was stuck on the side of the road in my 30's I could get a tire change for free.) Anyway, I got home and the Jones's have earned a HUGE star in my book. I will now call them "Astronomically Superior" when referring to them as a couple.

But wait, there's more...

The next day, drove to work and left my car in the shuttle lot during the day. My friend gave me a ride to my car after work in the shuttle lot and...

Kimmie: "Is that the tire that you had changed yesterday?"

Christi: "Yes."

Kimmie: "It's flat."

Yes, friends. Now the spare was flat. And the other tire was blown out in the back of the car.

Just so you know, I did not call "Astronomically Superior" but I totally cashed in on those higher rates again and had them hustle me up a tow truck, which they did for free again.

Bottom line... it's fixed now.

See, not the best story. Had you been there for the entire scenario it would have been funny maybe. I tried to add as much humor as I could since Mandy has been waiting a really long time and posted two comments about how sick she was of waiting to hear it.

I bet she wishes she had saved the comments for a more pressing story coming later after hearing this story?

Mandy, don't go. Come back. There are many more stories coming. They are funnier, I promise.

My Big Fat Greek Work Out

I know, it has been a while. "Busyness" seems like a lame excuse but does "Business" seem a little more excusable? I have been inundated with Busyness or Business, whichever you prefer to forgive me for. I haven't even gotten to blog on my teams. That is slacking is what that is. I am ashamed. Did I mention that I was busy?

I blog today for the point of letting you in on a funny. At my expense. Why I do this I don't know except that I know had I seen this, I would have fallen on the floor laughing myself. Truly. And, had I been friends with myself and known me the way that I know me, it would have been doubly funny! Save this entry until you have a bad day and read it with the intent of laughing at me because, honestly, it is the right thing to do. I have nothing to defend myself with. It is what it is. And so, we move into the story...

As many of you know, I traverse the gym multiple mornings per week. I love the gym not only for the clean white towels and the straight lines of treadmills that will do everything but run for you but for the overall general experience while there. I am a people watcher. I admit, I enjoy stretching and allowing my eyes to linger on those that are seriously working out. They are not there for show in their cute spandex. They are not there to yap it up with their friends. They are hard core. (They are women and men who are seriously inspiring to me to keep going when I want to quit. Not that I need the inspiration because I have enough determination to do that one last push up - not sure where that comes from but I am super competitive with myself when it comes to exercise. I have beat myself many times which I think works well for me because I always win when it is me against me.)

Have I let you in too much?

Anyway, I am choosing to go to the gym at 5:45 these days primarily because I am crazy and secondarily because that is the only time I can go with this job that I am finding is taking approximately 10-12 hours of my day these days. So, let's talk about the people that are at the gym at 5:45. These are the Mr. and Mrs. Olympians of the world. These are the older generations who have been up since 4:oo AM. These are disciples of Tony Little. These people aren't playing. They bring their own sweat towels and have an engraved plaque on their particular treadmill of choice. Don't EVEN think about getting on that treadmill and sweating one ounce on that plaque either. They bring their own quick oats and bananas in a cardboard container that reads "with extra muscle powder" for them to consume at the gym. They have no cellulite and a lot of them have no hair - I guess because that would weigh them down.

Conversely, I have hair. I have some cellulite because why am I at the gym? I eat steel cut regular oats AT HOME and sometimes, when I am daring and not caring about the calories, I put a Splenda in it. My oatmeal does not have extra muscle powder in it. I don't think I need extra anything in whatever choice of food I eat. That's just me. To say that I don't quite fit in the gym landscape at 5:45 AM is probably true. I don't stick out like a sore thumb but perhaps a slightly irritated thumb. One of these days, I will hopefully fit in because there will be no cellulite, but I am NOT shaving my head and I don't like powdery bananas. Love me, love all of me. That's just how I roll.

Can we please get to the story? Yes, quit rushing me.

My trainer, who has the biggest dimples in the world, (which I am sucker for but don't let this fact lead you to believe that there will be a future here because there just won't be) is there this morning waiting on me. For those that know me, I was late this morning BUT THIS WAS THE FIRST TIME FOR ME TO BE LATE TO MY WORK OUT (with this trainer). We are all a work in progress. I go warm up and we get to the work out. First, the bird dog...

Can we please talk about yoga? I don't get this. I am going to need the 411 on this activity because I fail to see how one leg out and an opposite arm out is helping me lose poundage.
Hold it for 20 seconds.
He looks at me like,"Is this OK?" I'm like, "I'll hold this ridiculous dog pose for the next 20 years if you want. What is this doing for me?"
"Switch", he says with as much trainer leadership as he can which means change arms and legs.
Does he know that my other arm and leg is holding me up. For some reason, I get the impression this is supposed to be difficult. I must be in SPECTACULAR shape because I don't feel a thing except that I am channeling an English Springer.

(Side note: I don't want to fuss about my trainer. He is a good guy. He has dimples. He meets me at 5:45. That is well and good but there is something missing there. I don't know. I don't have the connection with him that I would like to have to help motivate me to get it up at 5:15 AM and drive over there. Maybe it is because he is not bringing ice cream for the cool down portion. Whatever it is, there is something lacking - not in his abilities, more in our chemistry.)

The work out continues. We're balancing on a medicine ball. We're rowing for two minutes. We're curling biceps. We're extending triceps. We're pushing up and holding planks. Here is the point of our story. (It took us a while but I knew we'd get here.)

Ladies and gents, work with me on this and try to get a visual of this scenario. You gym rats out there that are familiar with equipment... let's talk about those bands. The ones that are different colors of tubing with handles at each end. They look like rubber jump ropes. Are you with me? OK. Now the yellow colored band is attached to the metal stabilizer near the middle of the gym with all the other bands that are attached as well. It is attached in the middle of the band so that the handles are free. He goes and gets one of those belts with the double buckles that people wear so they don't hurt their backs (ironic!). He puts that belt through both handles of the yellow tube jump rope and then tells me to put it around my waist. Basically, these are the words I heard.

"Giddyup, Trigger!!

Seriously, that set up is not supposed to be for humans. He essentially put reigns on me. I was a horse. The only thing I was missing was a bit in my mouth. In front on Mr. and Mrs Olympias at 6:00 AM and grandmas and grandpas. Now, had I been a casual observer and seen this set up happening, I would have gone over for a "water break" just to see how this was going to go down because who here doesn't see "FUN" written all over this. Yeah.

Trainer instructs: "OK, Christi. I want you to run out to me (approximately 8 feet out from the metal stabilizer) and slap me some skin and run back." (He didn't really say "slap me some skin" but that's what he meant.)

Attention all ladies and those gentlemen that had girlfriends around 2002 when the movie, "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" came out and saw this gem of a flick. Love this movie. Love the "tumor-is-my-twin" scene. Love the "men-are-the-head-but-the-women-are-the-neck-who-turn-the-head" scene. But, my favorite scene is the one when she is in the travel agency and forgets that she has the telephone headset on and walks away and her head jerks back and falls on her rump roast.

Love it!

Today, I lived it.

Yes, friends. You missed it unless you were taking a "water break" at the Y at around 6:10 AM this morning. Trigger ran forward and ran back, clipped her hoof on the rubber floor when the bands jerked her back and fell backward on her own rump roast, legs over head, and slammed into the metal stabilizer, and tangled in the rainbow of tubular jump ropes.

Yeah, it hurt in case you can stop laughing enough to care.

I have to say, the look on my trainer's face was PRICELESS. I bet we have a different kind of chemistry now. We are bonded in a way that not many people are bonded with me. It was a look between, "Holy Cow!" and "Bull honky-donk that she just fell in front of this entire gym" and "Do I have insurance?". And seriously, what do you do when faced with that situation? Seriously. What is he supposed to do there?

HIM??? What am I supposed to do there?? Yoo-hoo! I am the one in the floor. Strapped to a yellow jump rope. Wearing a double-buckled, muscle-man belt. I couldn't get loose of that stupid band if my life was on the line.

Here is what goes through your mind...
Idea #1: I could totally cry here and gain sympathy and nobody would laugh if I was crying. Plus it did hurt but probably not enough to merit crying.
Idea #2: I wonder if I could possibly just pray hard enough to melt into this stupid rubber floor. Whose idea was this to put a rubber floor in this sweaty gym when we're all walking around in tennis shoes? Fire 'em!!!
Idea #3: Maybe nobody saw this and the Lord is showing His bountiful mercy on me and for ten seconds, everyone in the gym went blind. Yeah. One glance around the gym knows THAT didn't happen. God does have a sense of humor, don't think He doesn't, and there were people in that gym that needed encouragement this morning. No one went blind. In fact, exactly the opposite. Everyone was watching me for those ten seconds. God gave the blind momentary sight for this scene. It's a miracle! Praise the Lord!
Idea #4: I should just get up and yell at the trainer.

Guess which one I did?

IDEA NUMBER 4!!!!!!!

Just saying that makes me laugh!! I did NOT yell at the trainer. I DID want to smack him for saddling me up like an equine, but I did NOT yell at him. This is what I said after he helped me up.

"I have one more rep. Go back and let me run and finish the set."
Well within the boundaries of couth given the situation, wouldn't you say?

Yes, friends, Romans and countrymen. I ran another rep and took a chance that Bessie could fall again. I finished my reps and the set.

Then I fell again.

NO! I DIDN'T FALL AGAIN!

WHAT DO YOU THINK I AM? A KLUTZ!

AFTER THAT FALL, I BECAME AN ETERNAL HIGH STEPPER!

I'LL NEVER FALL AGAIN!

In defense of my trainer, I have to give him kudos (not the bars). The guy is a statue because he did not laugh. He didn't even crack a smile. That is some stiff upper lip because I would have had water spray out my nose from my "water break" had I seen it. I can only imagine the conversation between trainers after I left. They are all going to make every one of their clients do it now! And here is the thing. I cannot blame them. I would have fallen over laughing. I imagine it was beyond hysterical.

Glad I can share stories like this one to amuse the supportive readers. It's a shame they all have to be at my expense. However, I am here for you. It is all about you guys! Enjoy the imagined visual and try to encourage someone else today. Spill your coffee. Fall backward out of your chair at a meeting. Challenge yourself. You can do this!

Come on. I did it for you.