Lesson learned (the hard way)

I could have titled this so many different ways, but the bottom line is that I've learned my lesson and I had to learn it the hard way.

The other night I noticed a girl at the gym put on this brace type of contraption around her waist before doing step class. I thought it was a back brace of some sort. After class she took it off and I was curious. I asked her what she used it for and she told me it was a sweat band. It helps shed excess water weight and also helps compress and support the abdomen.

After having 3 children, I could use all the extra support I can get in my belly, so I thought I would give it a try, especially since it only cost me $5. It was very comfortable and I could feel the warmth as soon as I put it on, which was nice since it was a chilly day. I've worn back braces in the past and this was a similar feel compression wise, but much more comfortable.

My trial run during the day went great and I decided to keep it on during the class I taught in the evening. I was a little concerned that it would inhibit my movement, but I was very pleased and comfortable throughout each exercise and could hardly tell it was on until I started sweating.

During the abs section I could feel it sliding around a bit and a few air pockets formed. Luckily the music volume concealed any noise from the belt. I continued through each different exercise and towards the end I had worked up a good sweat, more than normal I thought. This is the moment I took a glance at myself in the mirror and was horrified at what I saw.

It totally looked like I had peed my pants! I was so embarrassed. Apparently all the abdominal sweating I was doing wasn't actually being absorbed into the belt, but gravity was taking it down south. It was ridiculous. And of course it didn't help that I had on a gray pair of workout pants. That totally accentuated the pee look.

After class I immediately took off the belt, put it away, and tied my shirt around my waist. A few members came up to me afterwards and I explained my dilemma. Of course I had to laugh at myself, and jokingly I vowed next time I would remember to wear my Depends.

Why is it that I have to learn lessons the hard (and embarrassing) way?

Entertaining may not be my thing.

Saturday night we invited a couple over to dinner at our house. This was the first time we had Kristin and Aaron over and I wanted to make sure we made a good first impression. In the past my attempt at first impressions did not go so well. I didn’t want to jinx myself again so I vowed to keep it simple.

I supplied the pasta and fruit salad along with corn on the cob and brownies for dessert. The other couple provided the beer and burgers. Easy enough, right?

Well, let’s just say the burgers did not want to cooperate. Aaron even made the comment before they came over saying, “You’re not going to bring that box of ghetto burgers, are you?”

Hubby put the ghetto burgers on the grill and it started off ok. They were sizzling and smoking away like normal burgers do. I glanced over and made a comment about the flame broiled burgers and the increasing size of the flames all the while our guests are witnessing the entire scene play out. Then, in an instant, the innocent B.K. smoke turned into a rolling black cloud of pollution. We had a grease fire on our hands.

Hubby’s yelling at me to grab the hose while he’s doing his best to keep the flames at bay. I ran over to the hose and turned it on, not realizing that the sprinkler was still attached. There was no time to unhook it, so I rush over to the grill with sprinkler in hand while being blinded by the thick dark smoke coming from the grill. During this process I realized I had accidentally sprayed Kristin’s jeans.

Luckily the water did the trick and the flames were diminished. But the burgers, let’s just say they could no longer be considered food - more like charcoal bricks. Kristin and I decided to go to the store and get some new burgers - the leanest one’s possible.

Thankfully there were no issues with the second batch of burgers and we finally got around to eating after 8 pm. It was about time for dessert so I put some chocolate frosting on the brownies and set one out for each of us. The kids were playing in the basement and I figured they would come up to get one when they were ready.

In the meantime, we were all sitting around the kitchen table and Luke walks up to me with a disgusted look on his face holding his hand out with frosting on it. I noticed he had not yet had his brownie. I grab his wrist and ask him what he did. He replies, “poop.” I freak out and say, “No way! Where did it come from?” And his simple response was, “my butt.”

I rush him upstairs to the bathroom and clean him up. Apparently what he assumed was a fart was a little more than what he expected. He 'sharted' in his underwear.

Once he was cleaned up, I came back down and see that Kristin is busting out laughing. “Oh no, now what?” I said. She replied, “I think I know where Luke was,” and walked me over to the main floor bathroom. I walked in and there was brown smears all over the bathroom. On the sink, on the toilet, on the wall, on the floor, on the light switch.

Are.You.Freaking.Kidding.Me?!?!

I yelled for Carson and Luke to get their rear-ends to me immediately and asked them who made this mess. Luke insisted it was not him and Carson had the guilty look on his face and confessed it was him. I was not happy and said, “Don’t you know how to wipe your butt by now?” And Carson replied, “It’s a brownie.”

Thank goodness! I had my share of crap for the night.

Needless to say the night was full of memorable first impressions, not quite how I expected it to go, but definitely eventful. Sure we know how to entertain, just not in your traditional way.

Oopsy!

Do you want to know how I celebrate becoming a fitness instructor?  

A pizza delivered to my house and a sale made on  Craigslist.  

Do I know how to party or what?!?!!

Holla!

This weekend I spent 16 hours in training classes in order to get some group exercise certifications.  Sunday morning I had to wake up at 4 AM in order to make the 2.5 hour drive to Columbus for a full day of training.  Back to back grueling training days have left me exhausted in addition to the other 5 days I worked out this week.  Intense doesn't even being to explain it, but I totally love what I am going to be doing and it is worth every ounce of effort and sweat that was poured out.  

So when I got home Sunday night, Jason left to go out to eat with his long time buddy who was in town visiting (prior band mates in high school) and of course I was too tired to make anything for dinner.  I did what any sensible half-awake zombie person would do and ordered an extra large New York style cheese pizza for dinner.  So much for the brutal work outs this weekend. 

I plopped down (literally) with my pizza and my 2nd glass of wine and checked my email.  To my surprise I had a request for an item I posted on Craigslist.  A few emails back and forth later, we made arrangements for them to stop by the house in the next 15 minutes to pick up their purchase.  

"Sweet!" I thought to myself - "I'm making $5!  That will pay for a fourth of the pizza I just bought."  

I look over a few more emails, check my facebook page, drink some more wine and double check the last email I sent to Mr. Craigslist Purchaser.    

As I blink through my bloodshot, dried-out eyeballs, I noticed that I mistyped my address.  

Seriously?

Luckily the dude left me his home phone number, so I quickly give it a ring, hoping he hadn't left his house yet.  No such luck.  I gave it a second try with no answer once again. 

I took the item outside and placed it at the end of my driveway and went back in side to check out Mapquest and look up the incorrect address I entered to see if I could intercept him on his way.  Well, Mapquest is retarded or maybe it's just me.  (Don't respond to that.)  It showed a house on the map right down the street from me.  I grab my slice of pizza and cell phone and start trotting down the street barefoot.  

Hillbilly central.

I got down the street to where Tardquest said the house was, but no such place existed.  So I merrily scampered back home and waited for the next vehicle to pass by.  

As I am standing there next to the item, still eating my slice of pizza, a car drives by.  I wave to them, point to the item, and shrug my shoulders.  I sort of looked like a ravenous, crazed, black market street dealer ready to make a sale.  The people just looked at me like I belonged in a mental institute and kept driving.  

A 2nd vehicle drove past and this one was going slower than usual, so I knew it was very probable that it was my buyer.  I did my wave and shrug and the guy looks at me at first with a puzzled look and then stops and rolls his window down.   

He mentions the incorrect address and I explain to him what a freak I am and that I've been up since 4 am and need to learn how to type correctly.  

We both got a good laugh out of it.  And that, my friends, is how I celebrated my demanding, yet rewarding weekend.     

Lost in the lyrics (again)

Awhile back I posted about misunderstanding the lyrics of songs.  Since then I have realized a few things. 

 1) My hearing is not what it used to be.  Actually that's not true.  I've been hearing the wrong lyrics in songs since I was a kid and it continues to this day.

Let's try this.

2) Artists sing about strange things.  Or maybe it's just me thinking I am hearing strange things.

For instance, why would you sing about dying without chew?  I mean tobacco chew is what could actually make you die, not living without it.  PM Dawn sure has that song all wrong.  

Oh wait, what's that they're singing?  "I'd die without you."  Ah!  That makes a bit more sense.

And that other 80's song by Til Tuesday.  "Hush, hush, keep it down now, this is scary."  What is so scary that you have to keep quiet about? I heard this song on our satellite radio the other day.  The nice (and humbling) thing about satellite radio is that they display the artists name and song title on the screen.  That is when I learned the truth about this song called "Voices Carry".  So that's why she's singing about keeping her voice down.  

Should I continue on with this embarrassment?  Oh, why not!  

I have always liked Prince or is he still going by The Artist Formerly Known as Prince (insert some strange symbol)?  Either way he provided me with an opportunity to get lost in the lyrics of "Little Red Corvette."  Now I have to give myself some credit here - this song was popular when I was just a kid.  And my family was friends with another family who had a daughter named Colette.  Are you starting to follow me on this one yet?  So every time I would hear this song I always thought it was about this girl and Prince was singing, "Live it Colette." 

I'll be the first to admit it - yes, I am a dork.  And proud of it!

How about one more for old time's sake?  Then I promise I am done and will keep the rest to myself.  Deal?  

There's a trend here - 80's music.  You've got to love Mr. Mister.  My brother had one of their records, so I had my chance to listen to it over and over again which could have benefited me in getting the right lyrics down, but instead it ingrained the wrong lyrics in my head for eternity.  Remember the song Kyrie? Great song, right?  But man did I have those lyrics all wrong.  This is what they are actually singing: 

"Kýrie, eléison, down the road that I must travel

Kýrie, eléison, through the darkness of the night"

But my twisted and young mind sang it this way, "Carry a laser down the road that I must travel.  Carry a laser through the darkness of the night." 

You never know when you're going to need a laser, kind of like a flashlight.

You can stop laughing at me now.  

Do you know what the definition of 'Kyrie eleison' is?  

It's Greek for "Lord, have mercy." 

Maybe you could all show me some of that mercy right about now.          

Next time I'll turn the lights on first.

The other night after I had put the kids to bed I sat down to watch some TV.  It was around 10:30 pm and I was hungry, so I decided to cook myself a frozen pizza.  This is not something I normally do, but it sounded good at the time.  I had bought a 3 pack of the Home Run cheese pizzas - they have really good tasting crust even though they are flat and dense looking. 

Not wanting to take any unnecessary steps because I am lazy turn on the lights, I preheated the oven in the dark with the exception of the nightlight built into the refrigerator.  I pulled out the stone and placed the pizza on it.  Once the oven was preheated, in went the pizza.  

When the timer went off I checked on the pizza and thought it looked kind of odd so I let it cook a little longer.  Five minutes later it still looked strange so I thought I had better turn the kitchen light on to see what the problem might be.  

I flipped the light on, went over to the pizza and realized this whole time I had been cooking the pizza up-side-freakin'-down.  I kid you not.  But I wasn't about to let it go to waste.  It still tasted normal but with an extra crispness of cheese.  

UGH!

Wrong lyrics

There have been times when I am listening to a song and I start to sing along, but realize I may have the lyrics wrong.  

Has this ever happened to you?  

Sometimes, it's obvious such as the song "Higher Love" by Steve Winwood.  When I was younger I always thought that he was singing, "Bring me a pie of love," instead of what he was actually singing, "Bring me a higher love."  I am not joking as embarrassing as it may be.  

Or how about this one.  "Too Legit to Quit" by MC Hammer, which I thought he was singing, "do the jerk, do the jerk at work."  Cut me some slack, I was young.

Other times the lyrics that I hear and what's actually being sung aren't as obvious.  Which brings me to my latest mistake.  

I was watching American Idol and first can I just say someone needs to throw some hot wax on the caterpillars that are overtaking Paula's forehead?  Did I miss the memo that thick eyebrows are the new fashion?  No thank you. 

Sorry I got sidetracked.

During the show (or maybe it was at the end) they show a clip of the next weeks contestants who are dancing around like kids on a sugar high.  The song they are dancing to is "When I Grow Up" by the Pussycat Dolls.  I've heard this song before on the radio, but I was a bit shocked that Idol would use it to promote the singers, especially the guys.  

You might be scratching your head right about now.  Let me explain.

Here is what I seriously thought the lyrics of the chorus were:

When I grow up
I wanna be famous
I wanna be a star
I wanna be in movies
When I grow up
I wanna see the world
Drive nice cars

I wanna have boobies

Yep, I thought the Pussycat Dolls wanted to grow up and have boobies.  Isn't that every girls dream?  So you could understand that it was a bit odd for me to see a guy dancing to that part of the song (well, most of the guys).  I come to find out that I had the lyrics wrong, surprise, surprise!  

They actually sing, "I wanna have groupies."  Ah-ha.  That makes more sense.  It's still a stupid song, but at least now I won't be going around singing about ta-ta's.