Because I'm broke, cheap, and now single, I did a "staycation" a couple of weeks ago. Seems like a distant memory now. Anyway I learned to kayak - yep, took a lesson with L.L. Bean's cute instructors, several other middle aged single women, two old guys and their grandaughters, two couples that kept touching each other, and about 6 zillion mosquitos. By way of an icebreaker everyone was asked to say their name, where they are from, if they had ever kayaked before, and SOMETHING INTERESTING ABOUT THEMSELVES. That had me stumped.
So I told them that my secret identity was Zena, Goddess of Fire, but by day I'm a librarian. Ha ha! They didn't want to touch it.
S.L.B I may always be but as I get older and bitchier I think it's best that I find a handle that exudes warmth, love, sweat, strength, and yes, YOUTH. Now leave me alone.
Just kidding! Embrace me with all your heart. It's been a tough year but I think I'm feeling like myself again and ready to blog.
More to come! Love to all, Zena
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Between the Lines
We have new blue and white lane lines and backstroke flags in the pool. My suit didn't match. But thanks to Wonder Woman and sweat shop laborers who didn't size her new swimsuit correctly, now I do! The Incredible Hunk daintily held it up in front of him to show us how it would look on him. I don't think it would fit one thigh.
But if I read between the lines it's obvious to me, at least, that he was frustrated that he couldn't wear a suit such as this because it's not gender appropriate. I am very intuitive.
T.B.B. is also very impressed with the new lane lines, so much so that it reminds us all how well that funding could have been reallocated to fix up the Ladies Locker Room instead. READ: paint the lockers, fix the flush on toilet #2, and get some freakin' ventilation in there. Yes, I have B.O. when I work out and between that and the perfume I try to mask it with and the shower fog and the fact that many of us hot flash and need AIR it's a wonder that we workout inside at all. Oh, and while you're at it, how about re-painting the friendly reminder to have a shower before getting in the pool on the door exiting the Ladies Locker Room onto the pool deck. Sub-title "did you have a poo this morning???"
FYI, I like working out on weekends and showering at home. No cooties.
But if I read between the lines it's obvious to me, at least, that T.B.B., like me, kept hitting the now raised lane lines with her hands and really doesn't appreciate stupid little bruises. I am so very, very intuitive.
Because of the bright shiny new lights and the new lane lines, all the other stuff that needs a facelift is so much more apparent than it was. Like me for instance. Also the grime around the hooks near the hot tub, the scum in the drains on the pool perimeter, and the 6" of dust on the fish balloon still hanging over Lane #8. And the Band-Aids in the water. And the hairballs.
I definitely look better in low light. So does our pool.
But if I read between the lines it's obvious to me, at least, that the best thing happening between the lines are chlorinated water at the perfect temperature (finally), friendly faces, and, as Sharin' will attest, the la-la land of a great swim on a Sunday morning. Life may at sometimes totally suck but the pool will ALWAYS make it a better day.
Time for a bourbon on the rocks.
But if I read between the lines it's obvious to me, at least, that he was frustrated that he couldn't wear a suit such as this because it's not gender appropriate. I am very intuitive.
T.B.B. is also very impressed with the new lane lines, so much so that it reminds us all how well that funding could have been reallocated to fix up the Ladies Locker Room instead. READ: paint the lockers, fix the flush on toilet #2, and get some freakin' ventilation in there. Yes, I have B.O. when I work out and between that and the perfume I try to mask it with and the shower fog and the fact that many of us hot flash and need AIR it's a wonder that we workout inside at all. Oh, and while you're at it, how about re-painting the friendly reminder to have a shower before getting in the pool on the door exiting the Ladies Locker Room onto the pool deck. Sub-title "did you have a poo this morning???"
FYI, I like working out on weekends and showering at home. No cooties.
But if I read between the lines it's obvious to me, at least, that T.B.B., like me, kept hitting the now raised lane lines with her hands and really doesn't appreciate stupid little bruises. I am so very, very intuitive.
Because of the bright shiny new lights and the new lane lines, all the other stuff that needs a facelift is so much more apparent than it was. Like me for instance. Also the grime around the hooks near the hot tub, the scum in the drains on the pool perimeter, and the 6" of dust on the fish balloon still hanging over Lane #8. And the Band-Aids in the water. And the hairballs.
I definitely look better in low light. So does our pool.
But if I read between the lines it's obvious to me, at least, that the best thing happening between the lines are chlorinated water at the perfect temperature (finally), friendly faces, and, as Sharin' will attest, the la-la land of a great swim on a Sunday morning. Life may at sometimes totally suck but the pool will ALWAYS make it a better day.
Time for a bourbon on the rocks.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
A Little Piece
Even a little piece of crap floating around in the pool is enough to give me the willies. You watch it migrate over to the next lane and suddenly you feel MUCH cleaner.
I think there are guys, especially (not to pick on you but hey, it's easy) that come to the Y because they are dirty. I met a friend from work in the lobby on Thursday night as I waited for Gumdrop to arrive for my massage. This friend looked out the front windows as a man was walking in and asked if that was who I was looking for. It was the ugliest, dirtiest, frumpiest old man you've ever seen, carrying a pink gym bag. I laughed - too funny! The thought of him touching anything still makes me slightest queasy.
Like BFUNS who crowded Sharin's lane a few weeks ago. I'm pretty sure he didn't come to swim. He just needed a bath.
Or the rub a dub dub scene this morning in the hot tub. Batman was in there for 90 minutes, clearly taking no heed of the dire warnings of limiting your stay to ten minutes, but so were several other funky looking guys (none died, FYI). They were all in there talking and laughing and, I'll bet you, shampooing and shaving and getting a pedicure at the same time. But there were no floaties when I got in later so I think I was safe from radioactive cooties.
The good weather folks are working out outside again and bringing in lots of crap on their shoes and leaving it all over the floors in the locker room, the mats, and in the showers. Little pieces of mud and things called "plants" and rocks and other unknown bits that really do not make for good adult hygiene in a busy gym. But the Puddle Fairy has at least been nixed by the magical appearance of an actual mop to clean up after herself, but I'm not sure she knows how to use it. She left the puddle and went into the loo. I put the mop up against her locker and made my escape to work. I hope she gets a clue.
The kind of little piece that I need is not in my bed, thanks for offering. I am searching for a little peace. I'm working on it. The cat is better, my blood pressure is down, the weather is lovely and the wine is chilled. Thanks to Gumdrop for helping me relax. I'll try not to let things get too me, including the paper towels someone left inside my locker for me this morning.
I think there are guys, especially (not to pick on you but hey, it's easy) that come to the Y because they are dirty. I met a friend from work in the lobby on Thursday night as I waited for Gumdrop to arrive for my massage. This friend looked out the front windows as a man was walking in and asked if that was who I was looking for. It was the ugliest, dirtiest, frumpiest old man you've ever seen, carrying a pink gym bag. I laughed - too funny! The thought of him touching anything still makes me slightest queasy.
Like BFUNS who crowded Sharin's lane a few weeks ago. I'm pretty sure he didn't come to swim. He just needed a bath.
Or the rub a dub dub scene this morning in the hot tub. Batman was in there for 90 minutes, clearly taking no heed of the dire warnings of limiting your stay to ten minutes, but so were several other funky looking guys (none died, FYI). They were all in there talking and laughing and, I'll bet you, shampooing and shaving and getting a pedicure at the same time. But there were no floaties when I got in later so I think I was safe from radioactive cooties.
The good weather folks are working out outside again and bringing in lots of crap on their shoes and leaving it all over the floors in the locker room, the mats, and in the showers. Little pieces of mud and things called "plants" and rocks and other unknown bits that really do not make for good adult hygiene in a busy gym. But the Puddle Fairy has at least been nixed by the magical appearance of an actual mop to clean up after herself, but I'm not sure she knows how to use it. She left the puddle and went into the loo. I put the mop up against her locker and made my escape to work. I hope she gets a clue.
The kind of little piece that I need is not in my bed, thanks for offering. I am searching for a little peace. I'm working on it. The cat is better, my blood pressure is down, the weather is lovely and the wine is chilled. Thanks to Gumdrop for helping me relax. I'll try not to let things get too me, including the paper towels someone left inside my locker for me this morning.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Mine Mine Mine
By 5:15 a.m. a female someone has stacked up all her gear - towel, ditty bag, coat, clothes, etc. - in Shower Stall #4. I used it anyway when I showered before my swim on Friday. I did my best to splash her stuff.
This Unknown Female has claimed that stall - Mine Mine Mine - but I like that shower, even though there are clearly four others I can use. So it's the principle of the thing, and surely you know I have plenty of principles. What to do??? Do I move her stuff? Leave a sign "Buy a lock"? Use her towel? Swipe her car keys? Report this clear lack of consideration to other members? The S.L.B. possibilities are endless.
I was half a lap off from moving into the next lane, Lane #8, on Friday, but Evil Lifeguard was looking out for her man D.G. and got him in there before I even had a chance. Because, as we all know, this is his lane. It seems that he feels he's more entitled than everyone else to that lane, which is usually a lane all to oneself (no one likes to swim the wall). So I continued to have to share mine, which was okay because he was cute. Anyway, when another lane opened up and he pointed it out to me I said back "I was going to take your lane but you were too fast for me", then I turned my attention back to doing laps. Clearly he was taken off guard by this almost direct way of telling him off because he left soon after. I got his lane. Mine Mine Mine.
Curry the Nitwit must have had sex or something before coming to the gym this morning because he was running late. He's always the first one in the pool on Saturday and Sunday and he always swims in Lane #3, "his" lane. However, coming in at 6:45 it was already occupied by Sharin'. Now, there were other lanes he could swim in, but noooooooooo, had to have his lane. Mine Mine Mine. But she said something to him and he moved over and got in with Lover Boy instead! She has amazing powers. I am in awe. Maybe because she's pretty she gets away with it. When I tell people off they just throw it back in my face. Perhaps I need to practice.
So tomorrow morning I will get there right at 5:00, put Yellow Bag, my little towel, and the water bottle on one of the spin bikes (if I'm lucky, my bike, Number #2) before I load my locker and come back in 3.5 minutes to do my thing. If anyone zaps me for not being present and tries to move my stuff and take my bike over I hope it's someone that I love, like Cookie instead of Boob Job, who, I understand, will push your stuff over with her foot if she wants to take over your mat. If that happens I will just smile my prettiest messy hair, no makeup, bed wrinkled smile and, uh, I don't know, probably say something stupid.
Do you remember the seagulls in "Finding Nemo"??? The next time I get bumped I think maybe I'm going to start the chant: "Mine. Mine Mine. Mine Mine Mine." Instead of getting pissed off. Should be fun!
xxx
This Unknown Female has claimed that stall - Mine Mine Mine - but I like that shower, even though there are clearly four others I can use. So it's the principle of the thing, and surely you know I have plenty of principles. What to do??? Do I move her stuff? Leave a sign "Buy a lock"? Use her towel? Swipe her car keys? Report this clear lack of consideration to other members? The S.L.B. possibilities are endless.
I was half a lap off from moving into the next lane, Lane #8, on Friday, but Evil Lifeguard was looking out for her man D.G. and got him in there before I even had a chance. Because, as we all know, this is his lane. It seems that he feels he's more entitled than everyone else to that lane, which is usually a lane all to oneself (no one likes to swim the wall). So I continued to have to share mine, which was okay because he was cute. Anyway, when another lane opened up and he pointed it out to me I said back "I was going to take your lane but you were too fast for me", then I turned my attention back to doing laps. Clearly he was taken off guard by this almost direct way of telling him off because he left soon after. I got his lane. Mine Mine Mine.
Curry the Nitwit must have had sex or something before coming to the gym this morning because he was running late. He's always the first one in the pool on Saturday and Sunday and he always swims in Lane #3, "his" lane. However, coming in at 6:45 it was already occupied by Sharin'. Now, there were other lanes he could swim in, but noooooooooo, had to have his lane. Mine Mine Mine. But she said something to him and he moved over and got in with Lover Boy instead! She has amazing powers. I am in awe. Maybe because she's pretty she gets away with it. When I tell people off they just throw it back in my face. Perhaps I need to practice.
So tomorrow morning I will get there right at 5:00, put Yellow Bag, my little towel, and the water bottle on one of the spin bikes (if I'm lucky, my bike, Number #2) before I load my locker and come back in 3.5 minutes to do my thing. If anyone zaps me for not being present and tries to move my stuff and take my bike over I hope it's someone that I love, like Cookie instead of Boob Job, who, I understand, will push your stuff over with her foot if she wants to take over your mat. If that happens I will just smile my prettiest messy hair, no makeup, bed wrinkled smile and, uh, I don't know, probably say something stupid.
Do you remember the seagulls in "Finding Nemo"??? The next time I get bumped I think maybe I'm going to start the chant: "Mine. Mine Mine. Mine Mine Mine." Instead of getting pissed off. Should be fun!
xxx
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Deep Six Inches
The sidewalk in front of the Y is being replaced. This is, I think, the perfect opportunity to do in a few select Members We Can Do Without.
With only 6-8 inches of new concrete, it is important that those that we decide to entomb are cut up into smaller chunks so they don't float to the top. When I suggested this to Socks, one of our lifeguards, I will say in his favor that he didn't blink an eye at my suggestion. I offered to bring in plenty of plastic sheeting and he said he would work on his butchering skills. He is my new favorite.
On Wednesday a big fat ugly non-swimmer (BFUNS) got in by the wall in Lane 8 with Sharin'. Lover Boy and I watched the drama unfold. BFUNS only managed to survive about 6 laps before bailing, but that was enough to have Sharin' feeling bad about maybe being mean that she didn't want him there. She's asking me if she was being mean, but I reassured her, I hope, that it's OK, I'm mean too. I'm on her side totally. He should have just slept in, as usual, and had a Dunkin Donuts morning like most of America. He is definitely on my list of Members We Can Do Without.
Exercising inside at the Y instead of outside where you should be in May, or encased in cement, you will have a white ass if you are as white as I am. But there are plenty of folk with nice tans from trips to FL (or in preparation for a trip to FL). Me, I'm going cheap. I hung around on the back porch today because it is absolutely lovely - sunny and warm - AND, with the new banks of overpowered fluorescent lighting in the pool, I am more than certain I can also work on my tan while I do laps. I've been told that the new lighting is part of a "green" initiative, but I think if the lighting is so bright I can see the color of my heartbeat that maybe they need to maybe pull out a few bulbs. FYI, all the original lights are lit, in addition to the new lights, so I can't see how exactly we are saving energy, but if we are I expect my membership dues will come down really soon.
Did you all see the news this week about the NJ Tanning Lady bringing her kid into a tanning salon with her??? No doubt she is going to die from skin cancer, so no need to put her in cement. Instead, for only $51.00/month, we can stretch out on a towel out on the pool deck at the Guilderland Y. Cheap, just the way I like it.
With only 6-8 inches of new concrete, it is important that those that we decide to entomb are cut up into smaller chunks so they don't float to the top. When I suggested this to Socks, one of our lifeguards, I will say in his favor that he didn't blink an eye at my suggestion. I offered to bring in plenty of plastic sheeting and he said he would work on his butchering skills. He is my new favorite.
On Wednesday a big fat ugly non-swimmer (BFUNS) got in by the wall in Lane 8 with Sharin'. Lover Boy and I watched the drama unfold. BFUNS only managed to survive about 6 laps before bailing, but that was enough to have Sharin' feeling bad about maybe being mean that she didn't want him there. She's asking me if she was being mean, but I reassured her, I hope, that it's OK, I'm mean too. I'm on her side totally. He should have just slept in, as usual, and had a Dunkin Donuts morning like most of America. He is definitely on my list of Members We Can Do Without.
Exercising inside at the Y instead of outside where you should be in May, or encased in cement, you will have a white ass if you are as white as I am. But there are plenty of folk with nice tans from trips to FL (or in preparation for a trip to FL). Me, I'm going cheap. I hung around on the back porch today because it is absolutely lovely - sunny and warm - AND, with the new banks of overpowered fluorescent lighting in the pool, I am more than certain I can also work on my tan while I do laps. I've been told that the new lighting is part of a "green" initiative, but I think if the lighting is so bright I can see the color of my heartbeat that maybe they need to maybe pull out a few bulbs. FYI, all the original lights are lit, in addition to the new lights, so I can't see how exactly we are saving energy, but if we are I expect my membership dues will come down really soon.
Did you all see the news this week about the NJ Tanning Lady bringing her kid into a tanning salon with her??? No doubt she is going to die from skin cancer, so no need to put her in cement. Instead, for only $51.00/month, we can stretch out on a towel out on the pool deck at the Guilderland Y. Cheap, just the way I like it.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Eight
I'm grumpy. Can't I just stay that way? What's with all the cheery people at the gym early in the morning? I know Wonder Woman got her eight this morning. She's so friendly!
Thursday I just had to escape a busy pool. After 2000, 6:00 a.m., I towel dried, changed into running gear, and grabbed just the key to my car because I wanted to grab my ball cap on the way out. I left aside the remote opener since it won't fit in my fanny bag. Anyway, as I insert the key into the passenger side door, something I NEVER do, I discovered someone had busted my lock trying to break in, who knows when. LIKE IT NEED THIS. I ran fast, it was very cold, my hair was wet, it was really really windy, and I hardly felt a thing I was so punched up. Better than punching in a wall, I suppose.
Three days later I'm still grumpy. Here are some thoughts on what I should probably do:
EIGHT RULES FOR FEELING BETTER AND NOT BEING GRUMPY
Thursday I just had to escape a busy pool. After 2000, 6:00 a.m., I towel dried, changed into running gear, and grabbed just the key to my car because I wanted to grab my ball cap on the way out. I left aside the remote opener since it won't fit in my fanny bag. Anyway, as I insert the key into the passenger side door, something I NEVER do, I discovered someone had busted my lock trying to break in, who knows when. LIKE IT NEED THIS. I ran fast, it was very cold, my hair was wet, it was really really windy, and I hardly felt a thing I was so punched up. Better than punching in a wall, I suppose.
Three days later I'm still grumpy. Here are some thoughts on what I should probably do:
EIGHT RULES FOR FEELING BETTER AND NOT BEING GRUMPY
- Drink 8 glasses of water a day. Pee often. This also gives you extra breaks from your job, which, as a State worker, I can say with authority is the best way to goof off if the job is getting you down.
- Sleep 8 hours a night. If you can't because you are frustrated and unhappy, bash your head against a wall until you pass out.
- Eat 8 servings of fruit and vegetables every day. Wine is not a fruit.
- Detox for at least 8 days. No (1) alcohol, no (2) potential allergens like eggs or nuts or shellfish, no (3) red meat, no (4) refined sugar, no (5) wheat, no (6) caffeine, no (7) added salt, and definitely (8) nothing with the word "Doodle" in the name of the food product.
- Avoid mean people. If you can't, ignore them. If you can't, gossip about them, even if it's all lies.
- Do something fun, like take a walk along the river on a beautiful afternoon instead of sitting at your computer, like I'm doing right now. Lover Boy: shopping IS fun!
- Close your eyes and breath. Eight long deep breaths. Say "ooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhmmmmmm" until your lips are buzzing.
- Go to the gym.
- You ignored your own advice again, drank more than you should have, and now you need to work off a hangover.
- You have no place else to go and anyway, you need a shower.
- You are awake and have been since three-thirty so you might as well get up and go.
- It's the only time you actually drink water instead of coffee and wine.
- You ate too much for dinner again last night and you need to work off what seems like 40,000 calories.
- You need to get in shape for some reason, whatever that is.
- You enjoy working out because you lack imagination.
- You are frustrated and you hope it might actually save you from yourself, and if you stay in bed you may never get up.
- More than 4 inches of fresh snow, whatever that is.
- You forgot to set the alarm. Actually, this is more of an excuse than a reason, but I'll accept it.
- Something hurts. I mean, it's probably been hurting for a while now and you've been ignoring it. But now it really hurts and maybe, just maybe, for once, you can take the day off from working out.
- You stayed up too late again last night watching something on TV, even if you can't remember what it was.
- You ate and drank too much last night and you honestly believe if Hurly Burly pulls you over this morning you might be DUI.
- You are really, really, really tired and you are afraid if you go to the gym you will die.
- Your partner is out of town and you have the whole bed to yourself, and no one is snoring or farting except you.
- Sleepy, fuzzy warm cats in the bed with you.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Try Athlon
I don't know who Athlon is, but if he's cute, I might want to try him on.
It's good to try new things, challenge yourself, struggle with a new goal. As far as I'm concerned, a Try Athlon has three segments: packing up my big girl work outfit for transport to the gym in the morning without forgetting anything, getting it on without putting a run in the hose and exiting the gym without the tags hanging out, and getting to work in record time after my workout looking halfway like the professional I pretend to be now that I'm no longer pretending to be a superhero working on big Try Ceps. But I don't know why I bother, because, when I get to the finish line (my office), no one at work notices when I come in and they really don't give a shit what I'm wearing, as long as I'm clean. Maybe they won't notice the coffee stain on the front of my white sweater, either.
This is what I think: the outfit should be practical, whether we are working or working out. It should fit well. It should show off our assets, and our asses only when they are very nice. It should NOT look affected, as if we spent alot of time thinking about what to wear, but it should look like we are at least trying, and it shouldn't smell. Work is important because we have bills to pay, like our Y membership, and there are always new clothes to buy. The workout itself is also important. It should fit your age and body type and interests well, and it should help you improve your assets, so you should always try a little bit harder if nothing hurts. However, I suggest you keep it personal, focused, and self contained. You always notice the dinks that are more interested in knowing if other people are noticing them or not, and that's when we notice their stupid outfit or that they are really overheated and close to stroke, and they smell. Best to lay low, if you know what I mean.
Our daily Try Athlon should NOT be confused with a Triathlon, which, according to Thunderthighs, consists primarily of gaining alot of weight, wearing really tight Spandex shorts and sports bras without a top, and cornering you in the locker room to tell you all about her "Try Training" for Pine Bush. Constantly - trying - again - to start - a conversation - all about her Try Training. I'm guessing she thinks it should be easier to impress a stupid middle aged lady than her peers, but I'm a gym rat and this is a LITTLE EVENT (325 Yard Lake Swim - 11.5 Mile Bike - 3.25 Mile Run), so I'm really NOT impressed. And having already had like 11.5 conversations with her about it already, I'm done with it. She is TRYING too hard.
I know we can all try a little harder, including me in the Try Not To Be Such a Bitch department. Even when I am nice, underneath there's this little devil just havin' the funniest conversation about what's going on around me.
It's good to try new things, challenge yourself, struggle with a new goal. As far as I'm concerned, a Try Athlon has three segments: packing up my big girl work outfit for transport to the gym in the morning without forgetting anything, getting it on without putting a run in the hose and exiting the gym without the tags hanging out, and getting to work in record time after my workout looking halfway like the professional I pretend to be now that I'm no longer pretending to be a superhero working on big Try Ceps. But I don't know why I bother, because, when I get to the finish line (my office), no one at work notices when I come in and they really don't give a shit what I'm wearing, as long as I'm clean. Maybe they won't notice the coffee stain on the front of my white sweater, either.
This is what I think: the outfit should be practical, whether we are working or working out. It should fit well. It should show off our assets, and our asses only when they are very nice. It should NOT look affected, as if we spent alot of time thinking about what to wear, but it should look like we are at least trying, and it shouldn't smell. Work is important because we have bills to pay, like our Y membership, and there are always new clothes to buy. The workout itself is also important. It should fit your age and body type and interests well, and it should help you improve your assets, so you should always try a little bit harder if nothing hurts. However, I suggest you keep it personal, focused, and self contained. You always notice the dinks that are more interested in knowing if other people are noticing them or not, and that's when we notice their stupid outfit or that they are really overheated and close to stroke, and they smell. Best to lay low, if you know what I mean.
Our daily Try Athlon should NOT be confused with a Triathlon, which, according to Thunderthighs, consists primarily of gaining alot of weight, wearing really tight Spandex shorts and sports bras without a top, and cornering you in the locker room to tell you all about her "Try Training" for Pine Bush. Constantly - trying - again - to start - a conversation - all about her Try Training. I'm guessing she thinks it should be easier to impress a stupid middle aged lady than her peers, but I'm a gym rat and this is a LITTLE EVENT (325 Yard Lake Swim - 11.5 Mile Bike - 3.25 Mile Run), so I'm really NOT impressed. And having already had like 11.5 conversations with her about it already, I'm done with it. She is TRYING too hard.
I know we can all try a little harder, including me in the Try Not To Be Such a Bitch department. Even when I am nice, underneath there's this little devil just havin' the funniest conversation about what's going on around me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
