Just for fun

Totally righteous workout mix redux

I cannot believe I am going with that title, but it made me laugh when I typed it out and so it’s a stayin’.

And I feel like I need to state upfront that I realize this is at least the third time I’ve written a post about songs I listen to while I work out. In my defense, at least two of you asked for it after I admitted to the convoluted list of songs I listened to in the car on my way home from Kerrville. Not to mention that I have to constantly rotate my workout playlist because I need new music to drown out the voice screaming in my head, “STOP RUNNING, YOU FOOL. YOU’RE GOING TO DIE.”

That voice also likes to yell, “THE HEAT! MY WORD, THE HEAT!”

She’s a total drama queen.

So here is my list of songs for the current week. If you’re keeping track, I’m on Week 3, Day 3. I think I lost a day in there somewhere but I can’t think about it for too long or it makes my head start to spin because it feels like a math problem.

1. Undignified – David Crowder Band

I like to start with a little upbeat praise music. This is what I listen to during my five minute warmup.

2. Tik Tok – Ke$ha

And then I quickly digress to waking in the morning feeling like P. Diddy. I’m sorry. It has a good beat and I can dance to it. Or run to it. Or whatever.

3. 4 Minutes – Madonna with Justin Timberlake

This is on every workout mix I have. The real key to this song’s success is Justin Timberlake. Obviously.

4. California Gurls – Katy Perry

I don’t even know what to say. I have sophisticated taste in music.

5. Circus– Britney Spears

I’m just being honest.

6. Your Love is My Drug – Ke$ha

I find it ironic that I have two songs by Ke$ha on this list and I couldn’t point her out in a crowd. Nor did I even know she existed until about two months ago. I also cannot explain why she spells her name with a $, but I may start doing the same thing.

It’s very cla$$y.

7. Mine – Taylor Swift

And this is when my cool down section begins and the lady that lives inside my iPhone lets me know that I can stop running and live to see another day. This is a happy moment for me and deserves a happy song.

8. How He Loves – David Crowder Band

Do you love how I bookend with David Crowder? I’d like to say there’s some strategy to it, but I just like to end my workout with this song because it gets the rest of my day off to a good start. A reminder that I am loved in spite of the fact that I look like Ed McMahon by the time I get home.

Why Ed McMahon?

Why not?

And that’s my list. If you have some great song suggestions, leave them in the comments. I’m always looking for new ones and you’ve probably realized by now that I’ll listen to anything. Even Barry Manilow. Because he writes the songs that make the whole world sing.

On a related note, several of you emailed me the news clip about the woman in San Antonio who was trapped in her garage by a spider monkey. Apparently the monkey, also known as W.C. Fields for reasons I don’t understand, is still at large.

I’m just going to go on record and state that if I am confronted by a spider monkey during my morning workout, the Couch to 5K program will be dead to me forever.

And heaven help that monkey if it shows up at our house. P would have that thing shot, stuffed and placed in our bathroom to hold rolls of toilet paper in its little taxidermied arms before it ever knew what hit it.

We don’t take kindly to monkey intimidation around these parts.

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I’d cry about the whole thing but my stomach muscles are too sore

I just finished doing The Shred and I feel like I need to talk about it while the hate is still fresh in my mind. And, yes, it needs to be capitalized because it is The Awful.

For those of you who don’t know, the 30 Day Shred is a workout program by Jillian Michaels from the Biggest Loser. I’ve only watched a few episodes of Biggest Loser, but I spent many a day last summer hating The Shred. But such is the plight of a woman on the brink of forty whose metabolism is a faint memory of what it used to be back in the days when she could eat a deep fried burrito covered in chili for lunch and her stomach would remain flat.

Sadly, I meant to recommit my life to The Shred back in March to give myself ample time to prepare for the onslaught of swimsuit season, but somehow March flew by in a haze of Gummie Sour Lifesavers and puffy beef tacos and chile con queso. Now it’s May. And the neighborhood pool officially opened last weekend.

DANG.

Procrastination, you are my nemesis.

And chile con queso? You are also my nemesis.

A few weeks ago, Gulley started going to bootcamp with a few other women in her neighborhood. They meet three mornings a week at 5:15 and workout for an hour with a trainer. I totally thought about doing it with her except for the part about 5:15 a.m. and working out for an hour. Other than that it would have been solid gold.

She told me that after the first day the women in the group asked the trainer if he could bring some music for them to listen to during the workout. So the next day he brought Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Greatest Hits and cranked that bad boy up while they went through their workout. The women in the group were puzzled by the musical choice until they realized that their trainer is in his early twenties. That poor guy had no clue what a bunch of women in their late thirties and forties would want to listen to while working out. He probably went home, called one of his buddies and said, “Dude. What do you think a bunch of old women want to listen to during a workout?”

To which his buddy replied, “Dude. I don’t know. But my grandma used to have a Lynyrd Skynyrd eight-track tape that she listened to in her El Camino.” And that’s my version of how Gulley ended up doing lunges and squats to Freebird last week.

It makes me so happy.

Needless to say, she asked the trainer if she could bring in her own mix for the group. And that group doesn’t know how lucky they are because Gulley has been queen of the mix tape since I first met her back in 1990. Of course I guess the kids these days would refer to it as an iMix and not a mix tape. Which is a real shame.

Last year in the midst of my Shred mania I made myself a workout mix to listen to because I cannot bear to listen to Jillian’s voice. For me, it is the voice of regret. Regret that I spent the winter eating pasta with various cream sauces.

So I’ve made a new mix to help me through my time of need. And the lunges. My word, the lunges.

1. Gold Digger by Glee Cast – I was never a big fan of the Kanye West version, but the cast of Glee won me over.

2. Crazy by Gnarls Barkley – I owe this one to P. I had no idea he was a closet Gnarls Barkley fan until this showed up in iTunes and I knew I didn’t put it there. P is full of surprises.

3. I Gotta Feeling by Black Eyed Peas – Without the Black Eyed Peas there would be no hope for me.

4. 4 Minutes by Madonna (featuring Justin Timberlake and Timbaland) – Same goes for Madonna and J.T.

5. Party in the U.S.A. by Miley Cyrus – I realize by this admission that I’ve just lost all credibility.

6. Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough by Michael Jackson – This needs no explanation.

7. Like A Prayer by Glee Cast – The cast of Glee makes everything better.

8. Senorita by Justin Timberlake – Old song but it reminds me of summertime. And being at the pool. And swimsuits. Which is why I’m in this mess in the first place.

9. Gimme Three Steps by Lynyrd Skynyrd – Totally kidding.

10. Nothing Fancy by Dave Barnes – I put this at the end of the workout because it helps me find my happy place instead of taking the DVD out of the DVD player and breaking it in half while saying hateful things about a woman I’ve never met.

What about you? Any good workout songs? I can’t listen to these same ones over and over again for the next thirty days or I’ll end up giving up on the whole endeavor and making a big bowl of queso.

Which doesn’t really sound that bad in the whole scheme of things.

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It’s a long story

Yesterday I spent most of the day trying to adapt to being back in the real world. A world full of dirty laundry, floors that needed to be swept, bathrooms that needed to be cleaned and groceries that didn’t magically appear in my kitchen cabinets. To make matters worse, when I finally emerged from a huge pile of laundry and made it to the grocery store, I went to pay for my groceries only to discover that I’d left my wallet at home. Long story short, reality made me her circus monkey.

But enough about my grocery store woes. At least until tomorrow when I may feel the need to talk about them ad nauseam.

On Friday morning I woke up in New York. Sophie and I had a few hours to walk around the city before we had to head to the airport. So, naturally, we ate some breakfast and then treated ourselves to cupcakes to sustain us as we walked the streets of Manhattan. I took a couple of pictures that seemed to exemplify all that is good and right about the city.

Dear H&M, I think I’ll miss you most of all. My only regret is that we didn’t have more time together. You have my heart.

But I had a plane to catch.

Sophie gently pulled me out of H&M and we grabbed a cab to take us to La Guardia. I felt fairly certain there was a 42% chance that I was going to die in that cab and deeply regretted that my last moments would be filled with the smell of old garlic and body odor.

Thankfully, we arrived safely at the airport and I boarded a flight to Dallas because one of my dearest friends and college roommate was getting married. Gulley and I had originally planned to drive to Dallas together, but when the trip to New York came up we decided that I’d just fly in to Dallas and then we could ride back to San Antonio together at the end of the weekend. I don’t know why I feel the need to include all these travel details because they really have nothing to do with anything but I can’t stop myself from typing all the words and already erased an entire paragraph where I detailed what I bought at the gift shop at La Guardia. (Gardetto Honey Mustard Snack Mix, US Weekly, and People StyleWatch!) I have a compulsive need to overshare meaningless details.

But I will tell you about the bride because it’s a lovely story.

Jen, Gulley and I lived together for two years in college. Gulley didn’t actually pay rent one of those years because her true place of residence was the dorm, but we felt it was our duty to spare her from having to go home to the dorm every night so she just became our unofficial roommate. Jen was everything Gulley and I weren’t. She was known to actually study for exams and even miss football games to work on projects. She managed to make it through college without knowing all the characters on Saved By The Bell or having a VIP card to any of the bars in College Station.

After graduation, we all remained close friends. Jen spent the next several years pursuing her career ambitions and I spent that time doling out questionable financial advice to unsuspecting clients until P and I got married in August 1997. Then I switched careers and doled out questionable pharmaceutical advice to unsuspecting doctors.

Eventually all of our college friends settled down, got married and started having babies. Jen remained single. She’d call and tell us about an occasional date, but the right one never seemed to come along. But instead of pouting over her singleness and distancing herself from her married friends, Jen always showed up. She came and rocked our babies and invested in our lives. She took mission trips to Africa, taught Bible study at her church, and began doing inner city ministry work.

About two years ago, she brought a guy named Scott to spend the weekend at AJ’s ranch. They’d been dating for a few months and things seemed pretty serious. There was talk of marriage.

But they broke up. He didn’t know if he was ready to make a commitment and things just fell apart. She was heartbroken, but trusted that God must have something else for her life.

Eighteen months later, on January 10, I received a text message from Jen that read “Scott and I just got engaged!” And I texted back, “Did I miss something? I didn’t even know y’all were dating again.” (Because, listen, if anyone is going to miss some kind of major detail, it’s me.)

I hadn’t missed anything.

Scott and Jen had spent the last eighteen months apart, but he never quit thinking about her. Ultimately, he decided he didn’t want to spend his life without Jen. So he went to her mama and asked for permission to marry Jen. He bought an engagement ring. And then a few days later, he showed up and told Jen he needed to talk to her. He said that he knew she was the girl for him, placed the ring on the dashboard of the car and said he was ready to put it on her finger the moment she was ready.

And in typical Jen fashion, she began screaming, “I’M READY!! I’M READY!!”

IT’S LIKE A SCENE RIGHT OUT OF A MOVIE.

So he got down on one knee, placed the ring on her finger and they got married this past Sunday at 2:00. It was a day filled with love and close friends and family. It was a day that we’d all been waiting and hoping for.

Since Jen’s dad passed away when we were in college, she walked down the aisle alone. As she got to the halfway point, Scott left the front of the church, went to meet her and walked her the rest of the way. And everyone broke into applause. It was one of my favorite wedding moments ever.

This is Gulley, Jen, Jamie and me after the rehearsal.

And here’s the bride on her big day.

It’s hard to tell from the huge smile, but I think she’s pretty happy.

I’ll be singing On the Wings of Love all day

Oh, did we have a big day yesterday and not just because it was the season premiere of Tori & Dean: Home Sweet Hollywood. Although really? What else could I have possibly wanted to make my quest for the perfect day complete?

Not that I was really on the quest for a perfect day because what are the odds that a day will come when I am able to watch a marathon of Real Housewives of NY while eating chips and queso in bed and not gain even a single pound?

So about a month ago, P mentioned that it was time for another helicopter hunt and he asked Caroline if she wanted to go with him. And she has spent the last thirty days telling anyone who will listen that she is going to ride in a helicopter. She’s also spent the last thirty days waking up first thing in the morning and asking in a voice not fit for 6:30 a.m., “IS TODAY THE DAY I’M FLYING IN THE HELICOPTER WITH DADDY?”

P also asked me if I’d like to go up in the helicopter but my response was slightly less enthusiastic than Caroline’s. I believe my exact words were “I wouldn’t go up in that helicopter if Jesus were the pilot”. Which I guess means I’ll never have one of those bumper stickers on the back of my car declaring that God is my co-pilot. And for that I believe that God and I are both very grateful.

But I did want to go down to the ranch and experience the whole thing. I just wanted to do it on the ground where sane people like to stay. And also people who made the mistake of underestimating their fear of heights at the Rodeo Carnival and walked around feeling seasick for three hours after deciding it was a good idea to ride the Tower of Doom.

However, I am a strong believer in not passing down my fears and phobias and general oddities to my child. It’s why I’ve spent the last six years trying to act like carnival workers and people who are double-jointed don’t completely freak me out. And why I force myself to occasionally play something on my iPod besides Kenny Rogers’ Greatest Hits.

Ruby, don’t take your love to town.

Sure enough, we arrived at the ranch and there was a real live helicopter. With a propellor and everything. I felt a little bit like I just stepped on to the set of The Bachelor because they do love them some helicopters.

(I believe this post may serve as confirmation that I am addicted to reality television. If I mention Flava Flav, feel free to stage an intervention.)

P and Caroline walked up to where the helicopter had landed. Notice their matching safety orange shirts.

They surveyed the situation.

They climbed into the helicopter. I began to pray without ceasing.

What? They get to wear headsets? I would have totally considered doing it if I’d known there were headsets involved.

Truthfully, the headsets wouldn’t have made any difference because a chicken can’t change her spots or her feathers or whatever. (I’m resisting the urge to say I’m the coward of the county but everything comes back to Kenny sooner or later.)

And they’re off. Flying high upon the wings of love.

I spent the next ten minutes experiencing mild to moderate nausea until they were safely back on the ground. Judging from the look on Caroline’s face, I think it may go down as the highlight of her six and a half years.

After the hunt was over and we all ate some lunch, we hopped into my granite countertops and Caroline drove us around the ranch.

The wildflowers are truly unbelievable. There are only about three weeks a year when South Texas is this beautiful so I took about a hundred pictures to document it. (And, yes, I’m still experimenting with iPhoto apps.)

I asked Caroline if she wanted to change into the pretty pink dress I’d brought along so we could take some pictures in the flowers. She looked at me and said, “NO WAY, JOSE.”

So I’ll just have to treasure these precious memories of her in an oversized safety orange t-shirt.

After our wildflower safari, Caroline had a little target practice. There are three less water bottles in the world courtesy of her superior marksmanship.

And then it was time to go home. Even though she wasn’t tired AT ALL. NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT TIRED.

Or maybe just a little.

A little of this and that

I am sitting down for the first time since I woke up this morning. My entire Wednesday was a complete blur. I went to Bible Study, attended a luncheon where the guest speaker talked about The Genome Project (Don’t be impressed. The entire thing was completely over my head.), picked up Caroline from school, pulled out all my hair while we finished up homework, coached soccer practice, and met some girlfriends for dinner. Then I brought home the bacon and fried it up in a pan.

Not really on the last part because bacon makes my entire house smell for three days and I try to refrain from frying bacon whenever possible.

I am tired. And so I am resorting to a list of things to share. Chances are good you won’t care about any of these things, but I have some sort of OCD and can’t make myself just write “There will be no post today due to the fact that my brain has exceeded its capacity and this week has beat me up and left me for dead.”

1. P left town on Sunday night to go hunting with some friends (Yes, I thought hunting season was over but apparently Robert Earl Keen was right; the road goes on forever and the party never ends.) and returned home Monday night victorious. The following is an excerpt he sent out to his friends detailing the hunt:

We were walking through a part of the ranch that never gets hunted. There was a natural opening about 80 yards deep with a canopy of large mesquites over it. Tom did a double take on the opening in mid stride then kept going. When I got to the opening I also did a double take on what appeared to be a large, deformed mesquite. Doing a quick check with the binos revealed a huge antelope standing behind a deep “v” mesquite. I unslung the Centurion Arms 308 and dropped to a knee in one motion.

Trust me when I tell you that the entire email was much lengthier, but I just wanted to share the portion where he “dropped to a knee in one motion”. I can’t explain why it makes me so happy. It just does. Maybe because it reads like the script from a Rambo movie.

2. I’m doing an unscientific poll and I need your help. How many of you bought something new to wear to church on Easter Sunday? I don’t mean for your kids, but for yourself.

I kind of think the Easter dress is a dying art.

And, for the record, I did not buy myself a new dress for Easter. Which kind of makes me sad.

3. Tropicana has a really fun new rewards program and BlogHer is offering a chance to win a $50 Visa Gift Card. You can read all about it by clicking here.

That’s all I have right now. I’d like to believe it’s better than nothing, but I think I’m just kidding myself.

Shakespeare would be sad

I spent most of yesterday morning running errands trying to get ready for Easter. It feels like we are supplying plastic eggs filled with candy for every Easter egg hunt within a hundred mile radius. Which can only mean one thing, that no count Easter Bunny is a total slacker. You don’t see Santa making us do all his busy work.

So I bought eggs and candy, then I ran to the mall because our Easter Bunny has credit at the Disney Store. While I was there I felt it was my duty to look around and see if there was anything cute. And I’m sad to report that I didn’t see much. Actually I saw this beautiful BCBG top, but spending that much money on one top might cause P to vote me off the island.

I was starving when I left the mall and stopped at Sonic for some tots and a Diet Coke. (Yes, I am back to having the occasional Diet Coke. Man cannot live on water and non-carbonated beverages alone.) As I sat in the car at Sonic, I was checking email and listening to the radio. I wasn’t really paying attention to what was on until I heard these lyrics, “I’m tryna find the words to describe this girl without being disrespectful, but the way that booty movin’ I can’t take no more”.

I seriously laughed out loud.

When I got home, I searched for the lyrics of the song just to make sure I’d heard them right. Yes I had.

Dear Sir,

First of all, I feel the need to point out that there is no such word as “tryna”. Secondly, I believe your goal of not being disrespectful became a major fail somewhere around “booty”.

Sincerely,
Melanie