Meow

Our cats are named Connor Ellis and Tulane (or Tully) Benedict. I call them ConCon and Baby Kitty.

I imagine when I leave the house, it goes like this:

Connor: ConCon? Seriously, ConCon? What kind of name is that?

Tully: Excuse me, but you've got nothing. Baby Kitty? Baby Kitty? I'm like nine years old. I won't even tell you what that is in cat years. I win.

My mother use to say that at the stroke of midnight on Christmas morning, all the animals could talk just for a minute. Thanks goodness I am too old to stay up that late anymore.

Spin bunnies

In spin class, it is quite obvious who is a year-round spinner and who also rides outdoors from their spinning style.

The spinners are bouncing up and down, shifting side to side and never still on their bikes. While it looks fun and probably burns a few more calories, if they ever hit the road they could be on the ground in about a second.

The bicyclers, on the other hand, are much less inclined to pop up and down and only occasionally shift from side to side a bit. Also, they often wear jerseys instead of cute little tanks. Because lots of pockets are necessary to hold the little locker key.

Then there's me. Completely in-line with the bike, absolutely stable, at most times absolutely nothing moving but the legs. If anyone was noticing, it would be so obvious. My spin style screams Tandem Stoker.

Is it me?

Today after work, I go to the garden section of Home Depot. I go to the wood chip section. A guy asks if he can help me find something.

Me: I need some wood chips to go on a path.
Guy: What kind of chips? Like rock chips?
Me: No, wood chips.
Guy: What kind of wood chips?
Me: To go on a path.
Guy: A path?
Me: The big chips that go on a path, not the broken down kind that go around flowers.
Guy: A path?
Me: Oh, these ones are called "Path & Play." I think they can go on a path.
Guy: So you want the natural look?
Me: I want these chips that say "Path" on them.
Guy: How many?
Me: One. (pick up chip bag)
Guy: Do you have a buggy?
Me: No, I'll just carry them. (Scurry away with bag of chips in kind of a hug like you carry a pillow when you get woken too early and can't yet give it up)

See, this is why I have to shop in the same stores over and over. They get used to me. I get used to them. They don't seem to mind if I ask them things, even weird things, and they know the answers. I highly recommend Whole Foods for this. I am pretty much willing to pay whatever they charge at Whole Foods* just to be able to ask them weird questions and not get weird looks. Try it. Seafood is especially fun.

*Well, I try to stick to the sale stuff

My situation

I used to think that there was something great waiting for me. Not waiting exactly, which implies that it is just sitting there for the taking. This was more like able to be found, but requiring some seeking, some choosing, some sacrifice. And I was the one who was destined to rise to this challenge and embrace this greatness.

Just this evening, I have realized that I am not currently in the position to go on that hunt. I am tied down. I am committed. I am unable to jump when asked, go when called and seek that which is around the corner. I would guess that this is temporary and some day I will desire to seek again.

But for now, I've turned ordinary.

I am still trying to decide if I am ok with that for the time being. I'll get back to you.

Very Important Question

If you are mad at someone, not because they deliberately did something but just because of circumstances, is it wrong to then be less mad because you realize that your outfits are far better than hers? Shoes included. Hypothetically of course...

Mexican Oregano Potatoes

Went to a fabulous spin class followed by a very relaxing yoga class this Monday. Gosh, I just loved it. Then did nothing for the rest of the week. Well, that's out of the way.

Tonight we will be having roasted potatoes with Mexican oregano for dinner. They are supposed to have basil, but the containers look quite alike. Which reminds me of a time in my childhood...

My mother used to feed us goulash for dinner. A lot. Not authentic goulash or anything fancy, just where you make red sauce and instead of putting it over spaghetti, you put elbow noddles in it. I was never very fond of it. Not sure why - I loved spaghetti, but somehow the noodles already in it just didn't work for my picky kid self. Mom says I was extremely particular about textures, so maybe the noodles got mushy or something.

One night she was making it. I was hanging around at her side and watching, most likely mentioning that I didn't care for it as a dinner choice. She was probably saying, "Well, you can eat it anyway." She reached in the cupboard for the large plastic thing of oregano with the shaker and shook some in. Except it happened that the cinnamon was also in the same sort of large plastic thing and happened to have no shaker. Yep, pile of cinnamon right on top of the goulash. My mom looked at me. I looked at her. I'm sure we had horrified expressions. She began to remove the top of the cinnamon pile, but of course some had already incorporated itself into the tomato sauce. I opened my mouth to protest and, before any words could escape, mom fiercely whispered, "Don't tell your sisters and you can have grilled cheese."

At the dinner table, my sisters were all, "This tastes funny," and my mom was all, "No it doesn't. It's the same as always." Then they were all, "How come Jenny doesn't have to eat it?" and my mom was all, "You know she doesn't like goulash..."

Fitness Report

Not a lot of time to write lately, but here's a quick story to let you know that I HAVE been working out.

My fabulous friend gave P and I free 30-day passes to her gym. We have been using them to the max - went nearly every day over the week break. Feels SO GOOD to be doing gym stuff again. Any stuff again! Like yoga. Especially Yin Yoga taught by this teddy bear of a guy named Todd (I think).

Yin Yoga involves holding poses longer to really get the stretch. You mostly concentrate on the back, hips and groin. It can be brutal to hold a stretch for 5 minutes, but it is also so good.

Picture this: We are lying flat on our backs. We put one leg up in the air. We catch hold of our foot (or use the yoga strap if we cannot reach it - only crazy people can actually reach it so forget that catch hold part and just imagine the strap part). Then the foot goes way out to the side to stretch the inner thigh. This actually feels really good and we do not hate this like we hate the frog thingy that we do at the end that pretty much sucks.

So this particular night, it is pretty crowded. I realize my foot is going to go really close to P's head when I bring it over so I whisper, "Hope my foot doesn't smell." As a joke. Really. It was not smelly. But suddenly this stench fills my nostrils. It is awesomely bad, thick and nasty and just hovering. I wrinkle my nose and try to avoid it, but it is all around me. I glance at P to see if she can smell it too and she whispers, "It that your FOOT?"

Hello!?! She actually thought the worst fart in the world was my FOOT! I quickly whispered back, "No way," and we cracked up. Silently. Which pretty much means we lay there and shook and tried not to look like we were laughing. We determined that we should blame the guy behind her.

It did finally clear and I could breathe again. Fortunately, thankfully, luckily, whoever did that learned a lesson and did not try that again in class. I know it is supposedly a natural thing and yoga can make it happen, but there was nothing natural about this particular cloud.

I just feel sorry for whoever they were going home to that night.