Thursday, March 15, 2012

An ode to Spring... or Blondes have more fun... or... Bored with ma'self

I'm no stranger to trying various colors and cuts upon my ample amounts of thick dishwater hair. I've gone short, super short, grown it a bit, cut bangs and grown out bangs; gone dark, super dark, red, strawberry, and caramel. I like getting my hair done-did and feel that it's something that "I can always grow out... or always dye back" which thought process has been responsible for most of my courage to chop, dye, and grow. It's just hair, after all.

However, over the last couple years I've been trying to you know... do something "different." This started with a massive chopping last summer which was heralded as an excellent choice, almost visionary, by those who beheld my Emma Watson-esque look... ish.




I was alright with the super short and felt I could carry it off just dandy. Not to mention it was ridiculously easy to do in t minus 6 minutes from wet to out the door. To maintain the "shortness" of it though - that was a bitch. However, for that same year or so I've been growing more and more jealous of long tresses. Being a wee person of 5'1, I would likely never let my hair grow much longer than my shoulders simply because I think it would overwhelm me. I'd look very cousin IT. And not necessarily because of the length, but because I literally have mass amounts of thick hair. That isn't a complaint, as I am aware of any woman out there reading this and "harumphing" because her hair is average to thin "You're lucky" she scoffs with indignation, "I have thin horrible hair!" Well the grass is always greener and second, I am aware that thick hair is desirable - but that doesn't make it convenient, manageable, or cheap to maintain. Never the less, I am happy I have thick hair... even in it poofiest most unruly state.

THAT said. I made some "growing my hair out" goals you were made privy to in January. It was one attempt to produce a resolution that could be easily obtained... or at least... not failed by default. I'd have to actively fail to grow out my hair. It was a goal that required me to do nothing... which come to find... has been a little harder than you'd imagine considering the various stages of poof and mullet one must slough through to obtain such a goal. A pair of scissors is mighty tempting on a particularly mullety day. Alas.

All that said....

In conjunction with my long hair goals; I suddenly felt being blonde was the next natural step. Everyone who says "oh... you're a short, dark haired girl..." only furthered my resolve to declare "Says WHO! Maybe I'm a long hair blonde girl! Huh!??"  HUH!

So I found me a picture...




and started the journey (taken with my phone... in the dark... so... sorry).



I also tend to lighten my hair for the Springs and Summers so the timing felt natural (bad dum chi!)... almost... meant to be. I'll let you know if blondes have more fun. I will say, perhaps I never would've participated in a political rally against the ban of sex-education in schools had I been a more contained and pragmatic brunette. I guess I'll never know...

To the right... yeah... via the Des News


Looking a codfish here: http://www.sltrib.com/sltrib/news/53720103-78/rally-utah-bill-education.html.csp

Friday, March 2, 2012

My Love of a Gladiator Explained

There are many manly characters throughout literature and film I greatly admire when it comes to displays of true manliness.  I'd like to discuss two.

 First and foremost; Atticus Finch from To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. I don't think I need to explain myself much here. If you know anything about Atticus Finch you know he is one of the greatest male characters in all of literature. You may also wonder, however, does Atticus Finch exist in real life? Yes, I tell you that he does though I believe that Atticus Finches of the world are both a dying breed and greatly overshadowed by the Kevin Federlines of the world. Unfortunate and true. Times change, but this dame loves a good traditional wise fellow who lives life simply and respectably. Ironic considering one might not see me as the traditional sort of woman - and perhaps there in lies the rub. Regardless, I can appreciate the core of manliness I feel Atticus Finch displays.

I've posted this on my Facebook before, but I simply can't get enough.

So without further ado:


Lessons in Manliness from Atticus Finch

by BRETT & KATE MCKAY on FEBRUARY 2, 2011 ·
When it comes to manly characters in literature, my thoughts always return to one man:
Atticus Finch.
Perhaps this character from To Kill a Mockingbird seems like an unusual choice. A gentleman in a three piece suit. A widower of two kids, Jem and Scout. A man who was quiet instead of brash. Polite instead of macho. A lawyer who used his mind instead of his fists, who walked away from insults. Who didn’t gamble or smoke, who liked to walk instead drive. A man who liked nothing better than to bury himself in a book. Yes, Atticus may not seem very “manly,” at least when measured by the modern rubric for manliness.
But it is the subtlety of his manliness, the way he carried himself, taught his children, made his choices, that makes his manliness all the more real, all the more potent. His manhood was not displayed in great showy acts but in quiet, consistent strength, in supreme self-possession. The manliness of Atticus Finch does not leap off the page; instead, it burrows its way inside of you, sticks with you, causes your soul to say, “Now that is the kind of man I wish to be.”
The examples of honorable manhood that can be wrung from To Kill a Mockingbird are plentiful and powerful, and today we’d like to explore just a few.

Lessons in Manliness from Atticus Finch

A man does the job no one else wants to do.

To Kill a Mockingbird unfolds against the backdrop of Atticus’s representation of Tom Robinson. Robinson, a black man, has been accused by Mayella Ewell, a white woman, of rape. While Atticus is assigned to be Robinson’s public defender by a judge, he earns the townspeople’s ire in his determination to actually defend him, honorably and fairly, to the best of his abilities.
He does the job that must be done, but that other people are unwilling and afraid to do.
Indoors, when Miss Maudie wanted to say something lengthy she spread her fingers on her knees and settled her bridgework. This she did, and we waited.
“I simply want to tell you that there are some men in this world who were born to do our unpleasant jobs for us. Your father’s one of them.”
“Oh,” said Jem. “Well.”
“Don’t you oh well me, sir,” Miss Maudie replied, recognizing Jem’s fatalistic noises, “you are not old enough to appreciate what I said.”
A man stands in the gap and does what must be done. Doing so earns the respect even of one’s most ardent critics; after facing a myriad of taunts and threats from his neighbors for his defense of Tom Robinson, Atticus is once more re-elected to the state legislature …unanimously.

A man lives with integrity every day.

In Maycomb County, Atticus was known as a man who was “the same in his house as he is on the public streets.” That was the standard he lived by. He did not have one set of morals for business and one for family, one for weekdays and one for weekends. He was incapable of doing anything that would broach the inviolable sanctity of his conscience. He made the honorable decision, even when that decision was unpopular.
“This case, Tom Robinson’s case, is something that goes to the essence of a man’s conscience-Scout, I couldn’t go to church and worship God if I didn’t try to help that man.”
“Atticus, you must be wrong…”
“How’s that?”
“Well, most folks seem to think they’re right and you’re wrong…”
“They’re certainly entitled to think that, and they’re entitled to full respect for their opinions,” said Atticus, “but before I can live with other folks I’ve got to live with myself. The one thing that doesn’t abide by majority rule is a person’s conscience.
Atticus understood that a man’s integrity was his most important quality-the foundation upon which his honor and the trust of others was built. Stripped of integrity, a man becomes weak and impotent, no longer a force for good in his family or community.
“If you shouldn’t be defendin’ him, then why are you doin’ it?”
“For a number of reasons,” said Atticus. “The main one is, if I didn’t I couldn’t hold up my head in town, I couldn’t represent this county in the legislature, I couldn’t even tell you or Jem to do something again.”
“You mean if you didn’t defend that man, Jem and me wouldn’t have to mind you any more?”
“That’s about right.”
“Why?”
“Because I could never ask you to mind me again. Scout, simply by the nature of the work, every lawyer gets at least one case in his lifetime that affects him personally. This one’s mine.”

The most important form of courage is moral courage.

There are different types of courage: physical, intellectual, and moral.
While unassuming, Atticus certainly possessed physical courage; when Tom was in jail, he sat outside all night reading and faced down an angry mob intent on lynching the prisoner.
But moral courage is arguably the most important type of bravery, and this Atticus had in spades. Moral courage involves the strength to stick with your convictions and do the right thing, even when the whole world criticizes and torments you for it. Atticus’s decision to represent Tom Robinson brought a slew of insults and threats to him and his family. But he was willing to bear the onslaught with head held high.
Moral courage also supplies the fortitude to take on a fight you know you’ll lose, simply because you believe the cause to be honorable. Atticus knows that he will lose his defense of Tom Robinson. When Scout asked him why he continued to press on, Atticus answered:
“Simply because we were licked a hundred years before we started is no reason for us not to try to win.”
Atticus used the example of Mrs. Henry Lafayette Dubose to teach Jem the power of this kind of moral courage.
Mrs. Dubose was a sick, cantankerous old woman who would berate Jem and Scout whenever they passed by her house. Jem tried to heed his father’s counsel to be a gentleman, but finally snapped one day and tore up her flower beds. As punishment, Atticus made Jem read books to Mrs. Dubose every day after school. She hardly seemed to pay attention to his reading, and he was relieved when his sentence finally ended.
When Mrs. Dubose died soon afterwards, Atticus revealed the true nature of Jem’s assignment. She had been a morphine addict for a long time, but wanted to overcome that addiction before she left the world; Jem’s reading had been a distraction as she worked to wean herself from the drug. Atticus explained to Jem:
“Son, I told you that if you hadn’t lost your head I’d have made you go read to her. I wanted you to see something about her-I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It’s when you know you’re licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do. Mrs. Dubose won, all ninety-eight pounds of her. According to her views, she died beholden to nothing and nobody. She was the bravest person I ever knew.”

Live with quiet dignity.

Despite the fact that Bob Ewell “won” the case against Tom Robinson, he held a grudge against everyone who participated in the trial for revealing him as a base fool. After the trial, Ewell threatened Atticus’s life, grossly insulted him and spat in his face. In response, Atticus simply took out a handkerchief and wiped his face, prompting Ewell to ask:
“Too proud to fight, you nigger-lovin’ bastard?”
“No, too old,” Atticus replied before putting his hands in his pockets and walking away.
It’s often thought that the manly thing to do is answer tit for tat. But it can take greater strength to refuse to sink to another man’s level and to simply walk away with dignity. Frederick Douglass said, “A gentleman will not insult me, and no man not a gentleman can insult me.” This was a credo Atticus lived by.
Atticus’s quiet dignity was also manifested in his authentic humility.
At one point in the book, Jem and Scout feel disappointed in their father; at 50, he is older and less active than the dads of their peers. He doesn’t seem to know how to do anything “cool.” This opinion is transformed when Atticus takes down a rabid dog with a single bullet, and they learn that their father is known as the “deadest shot in Maycomb County.” Jem becomes duly impressed with his father for this display of skill, all the more so because Atticus had never felt the need to brag about his prowess.
“Atticus is real old, but I wouldn’t care if he couldn’t do anything-I wouldn’t care if he couldn’t do a blessed thing.”
Jem picked up a rock and threw it jubilantly at the carhouse. Running after it, he called back: “Atticus is a gentleman, just like me!”

Cultivating empathy is paramount.

If Atticus had one dominating virtue, it was his nearly superhuman empathy. Whenever his children felt angry at the misbehavior or ignorance of the individuals in their town, he would encourage their tolerance and respect by urging them to see the other person’s side of things:
“If you can learn a simple trick, Scout, you’ll get along a lot better with all kinds of folks. You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view—until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.
Atticus understood that people could only be held responsible for what they knew, that not everyone had an ideal upbringing, that folks were doing they best they could in the circumstances in which they found themselves. Atticus strove above all to see the good in folks and to figure out why they did the things they did.
When Scout complained about her teacher embarrassing a poor student, Atticus got her to see that the teacher was new in town and couldn’t be expected to know the background of all the children in her class right away. When a poor man that Atticus had helped with legal problems showed up in the mob to hurt him and lynch Tom, Atticus defended him, explaining that he was a really good man who simply had some blind spots and got caught up in the mob mentality.
Even when Bob Ewell spit in his face, he responded with empathy:
“Jem, see if you can stand in Bob Ewell’s shoes a minute. I destroyed his last shred of credibility at that trial, if he had any to begin with. The man had to have some kind of comeback, his kind always does. So if spitting in my face and threatening me saved Mayella Ewell one extra beating, that’s something I’ll gladly take. He had to take it out on somebody and I’d rather it be me than that houseful of children out there. You understand?”

Teach your children by example.

Atticus is probably best remembered as an exemplary father. As a widower he could have shipped his kids off to a relative, but he was absolutely devoted to them. He was kind, protective, and incredibly patient with Jem and Scout; he was firm but fair and always looking for an opportunity to expand his children’s empathy, impart a bit of wisdom, and help them become good people.
“Do you defend niggers Atticus?” I asked him that evening.
“Of course I do. Don’t say nigger, Scout. That’s common.”
“’s what everybody else at school says.”
“From now on it’ll be everybody less one.”
As a father he let his kids be themselves and nurtured their unique personalities. During a freak snowstorm in Alabama, Jem, determined to build a snowman from the scant snow on the ground, hauled a bunch of dirt from the backyard to the front, molded a snowman from the mud, and then covered the mudman with a layer of snow. When Atticus arrived home, he could have been angry with the kids for messing up the lawn, but instead, he was pleased with Jem’s enterprising creativity.
“I didn’t know how you were going to do it, but from now on I’ll never worry about what’ll become of you, son, you’ll always have an idea.”
Atticus’s sister wished that tomboy Scout would wear dresses, play with tea sets, and be the “sunshine” for her father; she often hurt Scout’s feelings with her disparaging remarks. But when Scout asked her father about this criticism:
He said there were already enough sunbeams in the family and to go about my business, he didn’t mind me much the way I was.
And he bought her what she wanted for Christmas-an air rifle.
Most of all, Atticus taught Jem and Scout by example. He was not only always honest with them, he was honest in everything he did himself.
He not only read them the newspaper each evening, but modeled a love of reading himself. And as a result, his kids devoured every book they could get their hands on. (Modern studies actually bear the truth of this out; kids with fathers who read are more likely to read themselves).
And he not only taught his children to be courteous, he was a model of courtesy and kindness himself, even to prickly types like Mrs. Dubose:
When the three of us came to the house, Atticus would sweep off his hat, wave gallantly to her and say, “Good evening, Mrs. Dubose! You look like a picture this evening.”
I never heard Atticus say like a picture of what. He would tell her the courthouse news, and would say he hoped with all his heart she’d have a good day tomorrow. He would return his hat to his head, swing me to his shoulders in her very presence, and we would go home in the twilight. It was times like these when I thought my father, who hated guns and had never been to any wars, was the bravest man who ever lived.

SECOND!

Since 2000, there has been an image of a very manly man in the back of my mind that has always represented very manly and honorable qualities to me. I don't mention it in conversations or in general because I usually get a "well you know he's fictional, right?" or "that's the problem with women, thinking we need to look like Gladiator" (which usually guys, it's rarely if ever about the "look" as it is the "heart" for women... it's not bad it's just different. Men and women are different. And it's OKAY!), and a myriad of other doubts and criticisms bent on shattering my admiration of a character that possesses manly qualities I truly admire. Of course it doesn't hurt that he's very manly looking as well - but I've seen a lot of manly looking men who come off as very unattractive, even revolting, simply because they do not or can not demonstrate those qualities of manliness such as loyalty, fidelity, humility, courage, hard work, and integrity.

Oh to live to be such a woman who deserves such a honorable man! Not a bad life goal in my mind. Not a bad life goal at all and one that encourages women to have confidence in their own beauty just as they are and not attempt to ascribe to the unrealistic expectations demonstrated by the media. An honorable man recognizes beauty of soul as well as the realistic beauty of a woman's body simply because they are women. We are all beautiful creatures.

Again, I can already hear the rumble of "unrealistic expectation" (believe me, I"m a woman in 2012, I'm aware of unrealistic expectations of genders), and "fictitious" and "well, good luck sister." All I want to say is I admire these things and for me, these qualities are admirable and attractive and traits we can all strive for. We are all imperfect beings and I don't see anything about setting goals to achieve any of these qualities as unrealistic. I further believe you can admire these things and still remain balanced, empathetic, understanding, and aware of imperfections without faulting each other for them.

Basically, all I really wanted to convey is "Hey, these man are very manly men to me." Make of it what you will.

Presenting, Maximus Decimus Meridius



Lessons in Manliness from Gladiator

by BRETT AND KATE MCKAY on JANUARY 26, 2008 · 25 COMMENTS
gladiator-crowe.png
There’s a reason men (and women) loved “Gladiator.” The main character Maximus Decimus Meridius is the epitome of manliness. Here are four lessons on manliness that we can learn from him.

He loved his family and was loyal to them

Maximus was a family man. He turned down the glory of being Emperor of Rome in order to embrace the warmth of familial love.
Marcus Aurelius: When was the last time you were home?
Maximus Decimus Meridius: Two years, two hundred and sixty-four days and this morning.
Although Maximus’ wife was brutally murdered, this did not dampen his devotion to her. Throughout the film a romantic tension exists between Maximus and the Emperor’s daughter. Yet Maximus stayed loyal to his dead wife and family and turned down her advances.
[Maximus looks at images of his wife and son]
Juba: Can they hear you?
Maximus Decimus Meridius: Who?
Juba: Your family. In the afterlife.
Maximus Decimus Meridius: Oh yes.
Juba:What do you say to them?
Maximus Decimus Meridius: To my son — I tell him I will see him again soon. To keep his heels down while riding his horse. To my wife… that is not your business.

He loved his country

Before Maximus became a gladiator, he was a loyal general in the Roman army. His men respected and honored him greatly.
When Rome falls into corrupted hands, he did not give up on his country. Loyally striving to fulfill the dying emperor’s wish for Roman rule to be restored to the people and the Senate, Maximus toils and sacrifices until the Republic is restored.

He could kick anyone’s ass, yet remained honorable.

“Gladiator” is known for its amazing fight scenes. In every battle, whether in war or in the arena, Maximus always defeated his opponent with a combination of brute force and strategy. He was able to ignore pain to get the job done. He never gave in to fear. Instead, he exuded an a quiet confidence that unnerved his opponents. He never doubted his ability to win.
Maximus: At my signal, unleash hell.
While Maximus excelled at the martial arts, he did not revel in bloodshed. He only fought when he needed to and in the service of a worthy cause.

He was in tune with spirituality

Maximus Decimus Meridius: What we do in life, echoes in eternity.
Maximus devoted time to his spiritual life. He prayed to his gods. He had no doubt that his wife and son were waiting for him in the afterlife. Before each battle, Maximus would reach down and run dirt through his hands. It was as if he was asking the gods to be with him during the battle.
Maximus Decimus Meridius: Ancestors, I ask you for your guidance. Blessed mother, come to me with the Gods’ desire for my future. Blessed father, watch over my wife and son with a ready sword. Whisper to them that I live only to hold them again, for all else is dust and air. Ancestors, I honor you and will try to live with the dignity that you have taught me.

Both of these posts VIA


Finally, below are more men who posses such qualities I truly admire in the manliest of men:

Joseph Smith, Jr. - Prophet -  Restored the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints
I cannot think of anyone more courageous, more humble, and more true. I've always loved and greatly admired Joseph Smith, Jr.

Samuel Hamilton - Literary Character - East of Eden
Kind, sympathetic, loving, and true. I love Samuel.


Aragorn - Literary Character - Lord of the Rings Trilogy
Courageous, protective, knowledgeable, and responsible. You can't talk about manly men and manly qualities with out mentioning Strider.


Boromir - Literary Character - Lord of the Rings
Of course I admire Boromir for his sense of duty to his people and that desire to secure their happiness and freedom, as well as his commitment to a good cause and his strength. But what I like most about Boromir is that he has weakness and made a mistake; but recognized his folly and became a penitent and repentant man. It takes a real man to understand his own weaknesses. Boromir knew that even though he wanted power for the cause of his people, it was not a right power nor something that was his to claim. In the end, I feel Boromir made recompense and maintained a very manly manness through is weakness.






My brothers
That's right. They are all good boys and manly men to me! They all work hard, have their priorities strait, and try their best to be good men. Told you they existed. Two of them are still single, ladies. Of course, you'll have to go through me... which will naturally involve rigorous oral exam followed by a written essay section and a 3 month practicum.

My Grandpa
My Grandpa is a very manly man and should I ever get married, the poor soul will have to get approval from my Grandpa first. He loves his wife, loves his children and grandchildren, and he steps up to the plate time and again to be both grandpa and father figure to his grandkids. He's a hard working, ass-whooping, farmer who knows the value of a good days work. He's also a very tender soul.



Clearly this is not an exhaustive list - but I have been thinking of manliness lately and what qualities I view as true demonstrations of manliness. Ironic I suppose that motorcycles, leather chaps, football all star, or gym rat isn't even close to any of these qualities I deem as being the ultimate kind of manly. Yes, I will not be so trite as to say that there aren't physical demonstrations of manliness that I find appealing like feats of strength or being decent at sports. A girl likes to feel like her man can protect her and her little ones if it comes down to it. But it really is so much more than that... so so much more than that.

So thank those manly men in your life for being the manly men they are. As I said before, I feel they are a dying breed so if you know one, make sure he knows you appreciate those qualities and attributes that make HIM the manly man of your heart.

Thursday, March 1, 2012

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

How to have a Day of Excellence

A couple of weeks ago, my roomie and I decided to create a day encompassing everything we felt necessary in making a day excellent. It seems there’s this notion floating out there, likely released to the world through the media via chick flicks, chick books, and anything doing with chicks, that if a woman wants to make a day truly excellent, it requires  a stack of goopy and clichéd films, buckets of ice cream, and fuzzy pink slippers. Ironic side note; 98% of media execs from all major networks are men. Just sayin… that’s where this “chicks do this” culture comes from. Uh-huh.

Based on this notion, I’ve found myself suggesting to other chicks, “hey… lets put on pink slippers, plunk ourselves in front of the TV, and scarf buckets of Ben and Jerry’s all day! Doesn’t that sound great?!?”

Well actually, no it doesn’t. It never really has. Why have I let this cultural notion of "chick days" destroy my ability to truly have a day of excellence filled with all of those things that make me feel good? Being fat and lazy - does not make me feel good. That is not a good day to me! The days I find most excellent have a few elements that don’t have anything to do with Mr. Ben and certainly not Jerry. The days I find most excellent are usually productive, involve some sort of work out so I can feel good about myself, good food (thus the workout), and good company. But then again I’ve never been a very true to form representation of anything culturally “chick” (as opposed to chique – which clearly ;)) so I may have lost some of you at “it doesn’t include Ben and Jerry.”

For those of you still left, I’d like to present to you a day of excellence contrived and planned (because any excellent day must have a plan) by the roomie and I.

Observe.

THE DAY OF EXCELLENCE
Presented in 6 phases
Phase #1: Rise and Shine
6:00am. We were awake and beginning my first round of BikramYoga. This goes against “chick” culture because with any day of luxury and excellence, it’s assumed you’ll want to sleep in until all hours of the noon-day. Not us. Though there are mornings where my feet feel ensconced in cement shoes, I actually really enjoy mornings. Therefore, to begin the day early was a perfect star to this day of excellence. HENCE - 6am Bikram Yoga follow by a good swim. (aside: have any of you done Bikram Yoga? Okay... so.... okay. I'm the least flexible person you know. I guarantee it. Your dad is more flexible than I am. Your dead great granny (dead or alive) is more flexible than I am. Also, I sweat. I don't glow like a lot of women do (or claim...psh) I full out sweat. Buckets! When I workout. So couple that with my inflexbility and you have quite the pathetic production via Bikram Yoga. Would I do it again? YES! It was GREAT! Despite the fact I looked like I'd jumped in a swimming pool in the end, I did feel a little taller. Hot dog!)

Phase #2: Food Stuffs Part A
After our invigorating morning, we proceeded to ready ourselves and then headed over to the Wild Grape for Brunch by 10:00am. Two reasons why this choice was awesome: 1) I love breakfast food all times of day and 2) I'd never been to the Wild Grape (on South Temple; between E and F street). Hurray for new things! Also, I’m already loving this day simply because I got up, did Yoga and swimming, got showered and ready, and am sitting down to Brunch and it’s only 10:00am! Effective use of time just makes me all giggles inside. I had the Grape's Benedict (placed upon sweet sweet porous fluffed corn bread) and roomie had the Black Forest Omelet. Couple that with some peppermint tea and you have two very fat and happy ladies. Wait! Not fat! We worked OUT! Back pat for me... back pat for roomie.

Phase #3:  The Chickiest Part of our Day - Mani's and Pedi's
Next on our day of excellence was, of course, manicures and pedicures at Mid-City Salon. And if there’s one thing better than mani’s and pedi’s, it’s having a Groupon for said services.  You best believe there was bubble gum pink and sparkly purple involved in this particular venture. I guess we are truly chicks at heart. 

Phase #4:  Matinee
There’s not anything I enjoy more than a matinee. I have always enjoyed going to the movies, but a matinee is something particularly magical. It’s cheaper and it’s in the middle of the day. I feel the matinee symbolizes true balance in life. If you can take time out of the middle of your day once in awhile and just sit for two hours, working through a Junior sized bag of popcorn and soda, and be entertained, I consider your life a success.  Yep. That’s all it takes.  And might I emphasis the JUNIOR size bags of popcorn. America is obese and I for one, blame our exorbitant portion sizes (and individual choice but that's another blog post for another day... a rant type of day). In fact, I find the term “portion size” a bit of an oxymoron in the US of A because the troughs people snarf through morning noon and night is anything but portioned. This goes for the tubs of popcorn and vats of soda sold for 50 gold dabloons and your daughters virginity at movie theaters. However, the Junior size of soda and popcorn, likely meant for toothless babes with a bright futures as a 9 year olds with Type 2 diabetes, suits me perfectly. I’d go so far as to say… it’s portioned. Wha?!?!?

Matinee… we saw Chronicle and I don’t know if it was because I hadn’t heard much about the film or because I had no expectations OR because I had mentally prepared myself for some painful endeavor like The Vow, or all of the above, but I really enjoyed it and highly recommend it. Go to.

Phase #5:  House Cleaning and Food Stuffs Part B
After the matinees, roomie and I went home and cleaned our house in preparation for a ladies dinner we were preparing for that night. Going out to eat is probably one of my favorite things to do; and it’s not just about the food. It’s enjoying the company of friends among other people who are also enjoying the company of friends over great food and conversation. But as much as I like going out, I like cooking dinner for company even more. And I say company because that’s what old(er) people call it when other people are coming, “we’ve got company coming”, and thus I’d like to keep the term alive. Honey, get dressed, we have company coming. Dearest, please don't use the term "douschery" in front of our company. 

When our ladies arrived for our ladies dinner for ladies (in the non-ladies of the night sense… erp), we had displayed for them a food setting of epic proportions!


Let’s just say, we don’t do things half-assed.  Ever.



Phase #6: The Cool Down
After stuffing ourselves silly, we proceeded to pour more beverage, light a fire in the fireplace (where else?), and watch one of my all time favorite chick flicks, all be it favorite movies ever: Return to Me.  What better way to end such an excellent day of excellence, nay, indulgence and frivolity! than with 110 minutes of David Duchovny. I ask you!

That night, tucking ourselves in at a reasonable 11:00pm, roomie and I congratulated ourselves on a day well planned and well executed. In fact, we vowed that we should plan such a day at least once a month simply because we enjoyed ourselves so thoroughly in every way. This day, for me, was a recipe for success from start to finish. We did everything in a day that I find not only relaxing and enjoyable, but also productive and efficient. Two things I highly value in my excellent days.

How about you? What does your day of excellent look like? And if you say pink slippers, a stack of chick flicks, and Ben and Jerry’s, I won’t judge you. Truly. 

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Taking the Plunge... then the bike... then the run

Well I did it! I said I would and I did. So that in an of itself is cause to celebrate. So in addition to the applause for my follow-through, I signed up for the San Rafael Sprint Triathlon. Below I have illustrated the process I went through to finally commit to this goal. You may have to use your imagination a little bit and for that I apologize. I know we're not used to having to employ our own creative devices to stories that could easily be turned into a big screen, special-effected, blockbuster. Thus, I ask you to bear with me.

Or cat with me...

For I am the cat in this scenario.




That's a pretty decent representation of the face I made. Slightly freaked out though pleased with myself.

Then as it inevitably does, reality started to set in this week. I run. I mean, I run for exercise and have done some small races and one big race (Wasatch Back Relay) and generally feel more than comfortable facing a 5k as part of the Sprint Triathlon. In fact, I even glanced at the Olympic Triathlon simply because I run a 5K every time I go to the gym. I wanted to push myself and a 10K seemed more to the task. Then, of course, there's the biking which I also feel very equipped to handle. I've biked significant distances and don't feel the biking, with a little greasing of the old joints and a new road bike vs. my heavy mountain bike, would be a big barrier for me. I could easily truck out 15 miles. Again, considering the Olympic distance of 30 miles, I thought hmmmm - I bet I could do that - even with the promise of a 10k promptly following - I bet I could do it. Perhaps I should push myself and just plunge into the full out Olympic Triathlon! I HAVE SUPER POWERS! I COMMAND THE UNIVERSE! BOW TO ME ELEMENTS!!!

It's the swim, folks. It's the swim that crushed my delusions of grandure. Naturally I took swimming lessons for several years, but now as I look back... they were more like "not drowning" lessons and I'm happy to say, I've not ever drowned! I think that flawless record can speak for itself. Well... I THOUGHT it could speak for itself. The sprint distance is a 1/2 mile swim. As I measure distances purely in football fields and track laps, I thought, "Oh yeah, I could swim two laps around a track. Hell! I could swim freaking 4 track laps!" So this week my roomie, an avid Triathlon participant, introduced me to swimming... as in not the opposite of drowning. 

The below illustration indicates my experience... after swimming.... oh... 200 yards (like... barely 1 lap... with vast breaks in between... in a calm, serene pool).



THUS, I exercised my common sense and signed up for the Sprint Triathlon after being significantly humbled by my swimming experience. I will tell you, I look like a legitimate swimmer with my TYR swim suit, goggles, and cap. Next on the list, fins. For the love of all that is holy FINS! I went again last night... and lets just say... its a good thing the Triathlon is in July. There are 3 lanes at my gym swim hole and naturally, there was some punk-ass hot shot swimmer next to me lapping me like he was Michael Phelps swimming for his 10th gold medal! Loser. But I will do it! So help me, the swim will not  hold me back from being a Sprint Triathlete come July! I am also very happy that this Triathlon is in my hometown because you best believe I will be going down there in June and practicing in THEE official lake. It's all about connections.

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Now that there's no dog, I'm scared of everything

Yeeeeeah. There's no dog. And by no I mean gone and by dog I mean Zooey. What??! Well, she wasn't ever MY dog, was she? I was merely a steward of an animal that wasn't mine in any way. Sure, she had bits of my heart, but that's the extent of my dog investment. That and the tears I shed as she merrily jumped into the car of her new owners.

That said...

Zooey is gone but she's in a much better place... and I'm not alluding to doggy heaven because that would be sick. I'm alluding to a nice couple with a big house with a big yard that houses another dog as well as the knowledge that one half of this couple happens to have extensive pet care experience via PetSmart. We've also been told that at least one half of this couple is around all day. I'm positive this combination is exactly what Zooey needs. I'm positive she jumped in that Corolla and never looked back. We, on the other hand, may take a week or two.

However, THAT'S not the point of this post.

The point of this post is to point out how I live in a very old house on the borders of a sketchy neighborhood and now instead of blaming the weird noises coming from the back of the house on the dog, I have to accept it may be the robbing/creeper/raper/murdering/zombie/disgruntled ghost I always imagined might enjoy a very old house with very creaky floors.

Perhaps a heavy footed cat is in order.

Shudder.