5 for sure

I did a parkour class today.  If you need me to wait while you Google it, that’s fine.

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all caught up?  Great.

I took a class at a gym owned by one friend from high school, and managed by another.  They happen to be brother and sister, which is cool.  It was a ladies only class, so that was also pleasant.  I have at least five bruises from my time there, the first occurring when I attempted to, as all the other ladies in my group had, run up a “warped” (curved) wall to grab a ledge and muscle myself up onto said ledge.  I failed and slid dramatically back down a few times; I think about four but in retelling it became six because that allowed me more sass-leverage over the instructor.  I banged my knee but good the first time, but at the end of every slide I did finish well, posing at the bottom in various ways: dead flail, savior on a cross, I’m a star, feel my shame.  Next up was vaulting, where I was supposed to use my arms to help propel me “safely” over a sort of triangular structure that resembled a long ziggurat mixed with a pommel horse.  After careening into/over that a few times, we got to try a different, taller vault with no padding on top.  sure, instructor who does this all day and has done for years, I’ll just run a short step up the side of this. . .thing? and flail on over.  It’s totally a natural maneuver!  It just feels right!  Then we ran at a wall, upon which I splatted and dangled, and got to scamper through an entire piece of scaffolding as we wished.  there were also large tires.  I ran around several obstacles, but I did do a poledancing twirl on one of the scaffolding uprights.  I’m pretty proud of that. I don’t know where all of my bruises will be when they finally color up, but I know that I will be doing that class again.  As long as the one teacher-fellow doesn’t make jokes about inevitable catfights to a group of women he’s just met.  All the vaulting and freerunning in the world will not get you safely away from a group of women you’ve just pissed off, Sweetcheeks. Best of luck and godspeed.

 

item of Interest: The Maria Paradox

After saying nothing for months, I now have things to say.  I will make them two separate things, however, and I may keep the funny one for a later date.  This first one is a big deal though – there is a new and fascinating book out.  It’s a self-help book, and I’m totally going to crib the press release from the blog where I first read about it.

THE MARIA PARADOX, written by Drs. Rosa Gil and Carmen Vazquez, is a unique self-help guide for Hispanic women and the men who love them.

The authors challenge the machismo-reinforcing idea of “marianismo,” a centuries-old belief system that in effect tells Latinas: “Don’t forget a woman’s subservient place; never put your own needs first; sex is for making babies.”

Filled with self-help exercises, this clearly written manual offers practical advice on how to build support networks, overcome passivity, forge career paths, change or get out of abusive relationships and increase sexual fulfillment.Filled with real-life success stories and wise, compassionate advice, THE MARIA PARADOX details how Latinas can enjoy the best of both worlds.

The book can be purchased from all major online retailers. The authors can also be found on Twitter and on Facebook.

My friend, aspiring author A.B. Keuser, wrote well about it here.  The cultural and societal rules the sexes obey has always been a frustration to me, and it seems that this book will be a response to that, with ways to counteract it.  the book is written to Latinas, but I believe that there is wisdom to be gained from it regardless of heritage.  I plan to read it soon.

 

Geeeeeez

This week just seems to be MY WEEK.   Friday night, Nikolai called me out on being mean to him without cause or good reason.  I guess Some People don’t like dead legs when I disagree with them.  Who knew?  I thought I was expressing my opinion, but he thinks I was being needlessly cruel.  Potayto, potahto.  All I’m saying is, when he says something I don’t like, he might get punched in the thigh.  OR not, now.  Because he doesn’t like it and gets sad or whatever.  Pshhhhhh.

Nextly, at work having a discussion with a friend brought up my tendency to play devil’s advocate and argue sides of conversation I don’t even agree with, just because I can.  I do it because I think so many people write off all sides of an issue once they decide which they agree with, and decree that side to be right.  When that is done, everyone who disagrees becomes the enemy instead of another rational being who believes their view is valid, and also the right side.  Then nothing gets done between the factions because everyone’s too busy fighting the enemy.

I would let this friend start telling her side, and then I’d save time later by defending the opposing side right away.  I’m all about efficiency in communication, you see.  It would seem that she does not appreciate my efficiency, instead preferring me to hear her out, and let her allow the other view some validity in her own time.  BUT IT TAKES SO LONG AND I’M FASTER AT IT AND STUFF.  It seems that she feels condescended to whenever I do that. Well too bad, Senorita Sensitive!  I have things to do and communication to facilitate.  I can’t sit here all day and listen to my friends finish sentences.  I have things to do.  Good grief.

ed. note:  Please realize this was all tongue in cheek.  I don’t like learning unpleasant things about myself, so I trivialize them and adjust blame so I can deal.

 

Hobbies are good

We have friends that own a parkour gym nearby.  Nikolai visited and learned a trick or two.  I told a friend about his new hobby, via this video which I can’t find in decent quality and entirety on youtube so I had to get it from hulu who seems to not like providing links. . .

http://www.hulu.com/watch/96408/the-office-parkour

The IM conversation that followed was thus:

me: PARKOUR!

 twelvedaysold: PARKOUR

 me: cartwheels out of chair, hits the door

  PARKOUR

 twelvedaysold: opens fridge, kicks away, rolls through door PARKOUR

me: does a handstand against the wall, skirt flies up PARKOUR

 twelvedaysold: backflips over coworker, punches wall PARKOUR

 me: sprints through reception, leaps through front doors handsfirst PARKOUR

 twelvedaysold: drives to destination PARKOUR FAIL

me: ohhhnnnnooo

7 minutes

me: walks down the hall, gets lunch NOT PARKOUR

 twelvedaysold: opens new window for facebook WHAT PARKOUR

 me: reads a book NO PARKOUR HERE

 twelvedaysold: sleeps for 8 hours PARKOUR IS MISSING

 me: has a beer with her husband WHERE IS YOUR GOD PARKOUR NOW?!

twelvedaysold: haha

  PARKOUR

 me: my lunch was yummy. PARKOUR

 

Florida Part 1

The trip to Florida. . . It was a trip.  We were taken to the airport just before ten am by good friends, which put us just in time to catch our 12:50 flight.  Awesome.  We fretted and fidgeted, waiting for Nikolai’s parents to show up with the three kids – our nephews and niece.  They showed, we rattled through checking our bags, and the blood pressure spikes started.  Four adults and three kids clambered through security.  One kid talked himself through the fear of getting “caught” or selected for a random pat down.  I saw a lady getting swiped down.  I’m pretty sure I’d be sobbing uncontrollably if I got touched like that by a stranger, ran through my mind.

We flew for about seven hours, maybe eight if the two flights are added up.  I don’t fly that long very well.  I read through books, sipped my juice and ginger ale, ate my airline peanuts, and devolved into a very snappish version of myself.  Nikolai just looked at me funny.  There was drama with the rental car, the directions, stopping the kids from wandering into airport traffic, and wrangling nine suitcases for seven people, as well as sundry carry-ons.

The fun part of the trip, besides the water parks where Nikolai and I got to go down rides together where he laughed more and my squeals and occasional cursing than at the exhilaration of the ride, was walking down to the food area to obtain coffee one morning in my not-pretty hair and puffy eyes towing my little niece only to recognize someone eating breakfast at the outdoor cafe`.  To be specific, I saw an entire family, two sons of which attended high school with me.  IN OREGON WHICH IS NOT FLORIDA NOR IS IT ANYWHERE CLOSE.

Not only were they in the same  state as me, on the wrong side as the country of our previous association, the same week, they were somehow at the exact same Disney resort.  What do you think of that?  Because I think it’s weird.

 

“I solemnly swear I am up to no good”

The above quote is from Harry Potter.  Ginger Ninja recently finished reading the series for the first time, and she just loved them.  That was rather handy, as I love them, too!  she loved them so much she started getting the movies, so she could watch them all.  she invited me over to watch the first one, and she showed me the wizard’s robe she had made for herself.  She even made up the pattern, kittens.  Girl’s got mad skillz.  Anyway, we heartily enjoyed the movie and watched #3 last weekend.  I tried not to die of burning envy because of her completely awesome robe.  I’m pretty sure I need one.  Also, I think we need to make wands.  All proper students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry have wands and robes and house colors and badges and scarves and. . . I think I’m carried away but more importantly, I don’t mind.

It’s fun to be enchanted by magic.
We plan to watch all 7 or 8 or jillion movies.

 

Not by the cover

I really like books.  I’ve been going on a book rampage lately, going to the library weekly and checking out 4 books at a go.  It’s great fun but it doesn’t lend well to writing.  I’m trying my darnedest not to give a summary of all the books I’ve read, but I just love them so much!  The Enchanted Forest Chronicles by Patricia Wrede are one of my favorite series.  She writes characters that play typical roles, or are born into them, but that don’t want to do what is expected just because it’s expected.  A princess volunteers to work for a dragon because it’ll be interesting (and better than marriage to some traditional prince), a witch doesn’t hunch over and cackle because she’s short so she needs to use all her height, and cackling hurts her throat.  Plus, she has too many cats.  They’re all such great fun!  I want to be friends with them all, I want them to teach me to make cherries jubilee and magic.  Also I’d like a fireproofing spell.  It just seems like it’d come in handy, don’t you think?

Another series is the Alexia Tarabotti Series by Gail Carriger.  It’s steampunk, so it’s a combination of Victorian times and dress with steampowered machinery, dirigibles, and parasols that turn into machine guns.  Well, maybe not machine guns.  But it combines all the propriety and manners of Victorian society and smushes it with oil and gears and cogs and wheels, just a bit of magic, and in the case of these books, vampires, werewolves, and ghosts.  I laughed aloud many a time while reading these, and was most unhappy to note there are more coming out – unhappy because that means I will have to wait.  Dearest Amy, authoress extraordinaire, has reviewed these books Here and she did a right fine job of it, too.

Now if you’ll excuse me (and you’d better) I have book 2 to finish.

 

A conversation at work

Amy: Dear distracting things, Stop Distracting ME!!!

 
me: dear amy, thanks but no. We would be shirking our duties if we stopped distracting you.
sincerely,
Things.

 

Amy: SCREW YOU, THINGS!

 

me: Dear Amy, once again thanks but no. We’re in a closed, committed relationship. You’re very flattering, though. We’ll call you if we’re ever single.
Love,
Things

 

Amy: Dear things, Goodbye I’ve just recieved a restraining order against you. Hope you enjoy that 500 feet.

 

me: we’re excited with our new space. We can use our fireworks and sparklers now! And ribbon-dancing and gymnastics. Enjoy focusing!

affectionately,
Things

 

Amy: Dear Jenna, Voice of the Things, You are coming close to being so annoying that I ignore you for a week. Just thought I’d give you waring.
Sincerely,
Amy

 

me: Dear Amy,
Speaking on behalf of Distracting Things, I would like to inform you that the restraining order won’t be necessary. We have a friend in Canada we’ll be visiting for the foreseeable future.
All the best,
Jenna and Things

 

plagiarism doesn’t count if you say who wrote it first

This email conversation-bit needs a touch of backstory.  Ginger Ninja and I email at work and share recipes if we find marvelous ones, and the recipe in question is for chicken noodle stir fry with mixed vegetables.  The recipe notes that your local market should have pre-packaged mixed vegetables, and if not they should have a salad bar to help you put together your own mix.  I’ve never read a more condescending recipe, that was also so delicious-sounding.

GN: Also, here’s the recipe I randomly mentioned when we were talking.  I haven’t tried it yet, but it looks tasty!

Me: Ummm that’s a delicious looking recipe.  I sure hope my local market has a salad bar, because I don’t know how to mix and match vegetables.  Do they grow on trees?  Where do I find them?  How can I identify them in the wild without help?  Do I need to set traps?

GN: well, the zucchini are long and green and can be found grazing in the grasslands in herds, as opposed to the cucumbers which are more solitary and hide in the jungle ground cover.  Bell peppers tend to segregate themselves by color (green, red and yellow are the most common), but every once in a while you will see the rare cross-breed, usually orange.  They tend to live in warm, humid climates.  Carrots and celery are both very common and can be found in the wild or domesticated as house-pets.  While they are both long and thin, carrots are orange with a leafy green top and celery is pale green and grows in bunches.  When trapping such creatures, it is best to lay a simple snare with some sort of bait.  Your local garden store or nursery can recommend a plant food suitable for your needs.  As far as choosing which to trap for that recipe, I would use zucchini or that yellow squash, baby corns ‘cause I love them, water chestnuts and carrots and celery ‘cause my husband will suffer through them and he needs some sort of crunchy things in his diet, mushrooms, maybe sweet onion (not potato), and red bell pepper (but you don’t like those, right?).  I think pretty much anything could go with a peanut sauce.

When I got that reply of hers I laughed till I cried.

 

Enter, stage left

I’ve been thinking about theater more and more lately.  I was a drama kid in high school, and man, it was fun being someone else!  It was fun being a part of a concerted effort to make people happy, sad, laugh.  I think we always had happy endings.  Friends have suggested I get into community theater, and that might be fun. . . I’m just not sure.  I think what I really want is for my old troupe and my old director (yes, from high school, leave me alone) to get back together as adults and just continue on.

While the idea might seem preposterous, there are enough of us living within a half-hour drive-time radius that I think we could do it.  I know this because of Facebook, of course.  The director would probably even be impressed that our years away from high school have deepened our experiences and ability.

Until then, Jazzhands.  Exit, stage left.