Friday, June 25, 2010
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Rumors of my death are only somewhat exaggerated
Ok, so a couple of days ago, June over at Bye Bye Pie, mentioned a workout video, or "veeedeo" as her Grandma calls it, that enabled her sis-in-law to lose buttloads of weight and does any of her faithful readers and commentors want to join in the fun and lose buttloads of weight also?
Well, since I do have an addiction to crack (Del Taco Bacon & Egg Quesadillas) I could stand to lose a buttload of weight from my butt and other parts of my body so I'm all, "I'm in!" and trotted off to the 'Zhay to get my very own Jillian Michaels of the Wonky Eye 30 Day Shred Veeedeo although actually it's a DVD.
June asked us to send in "before" pictures but yeah, I don't think so especially since I have a camera that is possessed by some horrid hag who seems to show up in every photo of me. What's even more weird is that she's always dressed in the exact same outfit as me, has the same hair, everything. It's like she's my ugly doppelganger or something. So anyway, I won't be showing a "Before" picture until Father Whathisname from The Exorcist can come and perform an exorcism on my camera.
I knew that if I were to do this veeedeo, I would need to do it when there were no witnesses to my flailing and gasping. So Sunday morning, there was only me and Gracie Lou in the house and I had a very small window of opportunity before TheManTheMyth and Thing 1 arrived home from a race so I grabbed my handweights, and popped in the veeedeo/DVD and well, it didn't go so good.
And I made a discovery or two while attempting to complete Level 1. Yes, I said Level 1. As in the easy-peasy beginner level. Don't you judge me. I discovered that doing jumping jacks caused me to have, um, a bit of an "accident" because I haven't been doing my Kegel exercises, if you get my drift. And for those of you who aren't quite sure what I'm talking about, I peed. There. I said it. I have weak bladder muscles. If I want to continue to do the jumping jacks part of the cardio, I will need to get me some Depends or Poise Pads. Yeah, yeah, TMI. Sue me.
I also discovered that I can't do anything that involves impact on the lower extremities, such as the running in place buttkicks. And those lunges where you kind of kneel like you're genuflecting? No can do. Oddly, I don't have a problem doing squats. Go figure. And the jump rope part? Not a problem, either. Weird.
I also discovered that trying to do the pushups is an invitation for Gracie Lou to come running over and start trying to kiss me and lick my ears. Then humping my leg. And trying to push her away just gives her the idea that we're playing a game and she's all, "Woo hoo! Mommy wants to play!" and I'm all "Stop trying to give me a wet Willie! I'm trying to work out here!" and she's all "I love my mommy! kiss kiss kiss lick lick lick!"
So, I get about halfway through Level 1 and I'm DYING because I'm in such good physical condition with the stamina of a sloth who's been taking Doggy Downers. My wrists hurt. My arms hurt from the boxing motions and from the massive 2lb weights I'm using. My knees hurt. My thighs are screaming with pain from doing squats while lifting those massive 2lb weights. My hair hurts, my eyelids hurt and my nostrils hurt from trying to flare them back at Flaring Nostrils Jillian. I'm gasping and my fingers are sweating and I start to see a big white light with all my dead loved ones telling me to Go Towards the Light when I hear the most beautiful sound. No, not angels singing. I hear the sound of a Ford F450 Powerstroke Diesel engine. Which tells me the menfolk are home and my excuse to throw in the towel. Because I had to move my car out of the way so they could park the trailer. Yes. That's it. I couldn't finish because I had to move my car.
I stagger to my feet and my legs are like jello. I can barely walk because my legs, arms and head are shaking so badly. I can't talk, I can barely croak out a greeting to my menfolk and they're all, "What's wrong with YOU?" and I'm all, "Flail. Gasp. Workout. Cry. Help. Dying" and they're all, "Uh, yeah. What's for lunch?"
For the rest of the day, just breathing is painful and I'm thinking to myself that there is no effin' way I can do this every.single.day for 30 days. Unless I want my family to be set for life when they put in a claim on my life insurance policy because I have died from trying to get shredded. Like I'm hashbrowns or something.
Even sleeping was an ordeal because every muscle in my body was so sore that it kept me awake.
I will keep plowing at Level 1 because I spent $9.04 on this here veeedeo but I'm not doing it every day for 30 days because well, I don't want to die. So I'm renaming this veeedeo, Kelly's 90 to 120 Day Shred. With cheese.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go buy a package of Depends. And Ben Gay. And Epsom Salts. And liquor.
Don't you judge me.
Well, since I do have an addiction to crack (Del Taco Bacon & Egg Quesadillas) I could stand to lose a buttload of weight from my butt and other parts of my body so I'm all, "I'm in!" and trotted off to the 'Zhay to get my very own Jillian Michaels of the Wonky Eye 30 Day Shred Veeedeo although actually it's a DVD.
I knew that if I were to do this veeedeo, I would need to do it when there were no witnesses to my flailing and gasping. So Sunday morning, there was only me and Gracie Lou in the house and I had a very small window of opportunity before TheManTheMyth and Thing 1 arrived home from a race so I grabbed my handweights, and popped in the veeedeo/DVD and well, it didn't go so good.
And I made a discovery or two while attempting to complete Level 1. Yes, I said Level 1. As in the easy-peasy beginner level. Don't you judge me. I discovered that doing jumping jacks caused me to have, um, a bit of an "accident" because I haven't been doing my Kegel exercises, if you get my drift. And for those of you who aren't quite sure what I'm talking about, I peed. There. I said it. I have weak bladder muscles. If I want to continue to do the jumping jacks part of the cardio, I will need to get me some Depends or Poise Pads. Yeah, yeah, TMI. Sue me.
I also discovered that I can't do anything that involves impact on the lower extremities, such as the running in place buttkicks. And those lunges where you kind of kneel like you're genuflecting? No can do. Oddly, I don't have a problem doing squats. Go figure. And the jump rope part? Not a problem, either. Weird.
I also discovered that trying to do the pushups is an invitation for Gracie Lou to come running over and start trying to kiss me and lick my ears. Then humping my leg. And trying to push her away just gives her the idea that we're playing a game and she's all, "Woo hoo! Mommy wants to play!" and I'm all "Stop trying to give me a wet Willie! I'm trying to work out here!" and she's all "I love my mommy! kiss kiss kiss lick lick lick!"
So, I get about halfway through Level 1 and I'm DYING because I'm in such good physical condition with the stamina of a sloth who's been taking Doggy Downers. My wrists hurt. My arms hurt from the boxing motions and from the massive 2lb weights I'm using. My knees hurt. My thighs are screaming with pain from doing squats while lifting those massive 2lb weights. My hair hurts, my eyelids hurt and my nostrils hurt from trying to flare them back at Flaring Nostrils Jillian. I'm gasping and my fingers are sweating and I start to see a big white light with all my dead loved ones telling me to Go Towards the Light when I hear the most beautiful sound. No, not angels singing. I hear the sound of a Ford F450 Powerstroke Diesel engine. Which tells me the menfolk are home and my excuse to throw in the towel. Because I had to move my car out of the way so they could park the trailer. Yes. That's it. I couldn't finish because I had to move my car.
I stagger to my feet and my legs are like jello. I can barely walk because my legs, arms and head are shaking so badly. I can't talk, I can barely croak out a greeting to my menfolk and they're all, "What's wrong with YOU?" and I'm all, "Flail. Gasp. Workout. Cry. Help. Dying" and they're all, "Uh, yeah. What's for lunch?"
For the rest of the day, just breathing is painful and I'm thinking to myself that there is no effin' way I can do this every.single.day for 30 days. Unless I want my family to be set for life when they put in a claim on my life insurance policy because I have died from trying to get shredded. Like I'm hashbrowns or something.
Even sleeping was an ordeal because every muscle in my body was so sore that it kept me awake.
I will keep plowing at Level 1 because I spent $9.04 on this here veeedeo but I'm not doing it every day for 30 days because well, I don't want to die. So I'm renaming this veeedeo, Kelly's 90 to 120 Day Shred. With cheese.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go buy a package of Depends. And Ben Gay. And Epsom Salts. And liquor.
Don't you judge me.
Friday, June 18, 2010
There is just one moon and a golden sun
29 years ago, I graduated from high school. My graduation was a nightmare of epic proportions from start to finish and yes, I'm exaggerating for storytelling purposes but only slightly.
At my school, who you walked with in the processional for graduation was a Big Deal. It didn't matter that family and friends waaaaaay up in the stadium seats couldn't tell who you were walking with, let alone which one of the hundreds of teens in red and white caps and gowns was you, YOU knew who you were walking with and that was what mattered.
So, I was all set to walk with the brother of my then-boyfriend but on Graduation Day, Brother and I got in an argument about something, I don't remember what, and when I got to the ceremony and found him, he informed me that he was walking with someone else and I was shit outta luck. Great. Just great. And for some stupid reason, the People In Charge refused to let us walk in groups, we had to walk in pairs. So I'm hung out to dry, the processional is starting and I start looking frantically for someone, anyone, to walk with. At this point, I didn't care WHO as long as I had someone to walk with. So I spot a guy from the soccer team kind of standing by himself and I'm all "Dude, ya got anyone to walk with?" and he's all "No" and I grab his arm and tell him he's walking with me and he's all "Ok" and off we go. Remember that story.
So, the graduation ceremony is over and families are allowed to come out on the field and I don't see my boyfriend and his parents tell me he wasn't feeling good so he didn't come (he had serious health issues). So I'm thinking Great. First I get dumped by his brother and now I find out my boyfriend didn't even come to my graduation. What else can go wrong? Ha. Ha. So my parents come down on the field and I think we took some pictures although I'm probably wrong because I've never seen any pictures from my graduation and people are all coming up and hugging me and I'm all "thanks, thanks" but I'm feeling bummed because my boyfriend wasn't there.
So after awhile, the stadium has pretty much cleared out and I start looking around for my family to let them know I was ready to leave and I can't find them. I'm looking around and asking the few people who are left if they've seen my family and nope, nobody has seen them. That's odd, I think to myself. They know I have no way to get home because we didn't live anywhere near the stadium. And I'm looking for them and it finally dawns on me: THEY LEFT ME. Again. From the time I was an infant, my parents had the bad habit of driving off and forgetting me. I'm not joking. One time, I think I was about 15, they left me, on Christmas night no less, at a party we had gone to and by the time I figured out that they had once again left me behind, it was 2:00am and I had to get a ride with this guy on the back of his motorcycle and we didn't live close by. Freeways were involved and it was the middle of the night and I didn't have a coat or a helmet and I froze but at least someone made sure I got home. I ended up dating that guy for a bit.
But I digress. So I'm standing there, in my cap and gown, abandoned and alone, and finally I see an old friend and I tell him that I got left behind and he's all "again?" and takes me home where I walk in to see all of my family eating and drinking and I'm all " hey thanks for leaving me behind...again" and they're all "oh" and my boyfriend is there so I'm all happy until we went to a graduation party and my boyfriend ended up getting in a fight over me which I found neither romantic nor thrilling and basically it was one helluva rotten Graduation.
So. Flash forward to yesterday, which was Thing 1's graduation (photos will be posted in a later blog entry. This post is about ME). We're at his friend's house, eating and drinking and I'm talking to Thing 1's crony, The Big Julian who shares a birthday with Thing 1, and I don't know how we got on the subject but he asked me where I went to high school and I tell him and he's all "No way! That's where my dad went!" but he says his dad graduated 5 years after me but he thought his dad's brother graduated the same year I did. "What's his name" I ask and Big J tells me his uncle's name and asks if I remembered him.
And I tell Big J that not only did I remember his uncle, I walked with him in the processional at graduation. Way!
So he immediately calls his uncle and asks him if he remembers someone named Kelly Perkins from high school and his uncle tells him," Yeah, I walked with her at my graduation, why do you ask?" Big J tells him that I'm sitting right there and that I'm the mom of his best friend and how crazy is that? And Big J is telling the story to everyone at the party and everyone is all "No way!" and we're all "Way!"
It's a Small World After All.
At my school, who you walked with in the processional for graduation was a Big Deal. It didn't matter that family and friends waaaaaay up in the stadium seats couldn't tell who you were walking with, let alone which one of the hundreds of teens in red and white caps and gowns was you, YOU knew who you were walking with and that was what mattered.
So, I was all set to walk with the brother of my then-boyfriend but on Graduation Day, Brother and I got in an argument about something, I don't remember what, and when I got to the ceremony and found him, he informed me that he was walking with someone else and I was shit outta luck. Great. Just great. And for some stupid reason, the People In Charge refused to let us walk in groups, we had to walk in pairs. So I'm hung out to dry, the processional is starting and I start looking frantically for someone, anyone, to walk with. At this point, I didn't care WHO as long as I had someone to walk with. So I spot a guy from the soccer team kind of standing by himself and I'm all "Dude, ya got anyone to walk with?" and he's all "No" and I grab his arm and tell him he's walking with me and he's all "Ok" and off we go. Remember that story.
So, the graduation ceremony is over and families are allowed to come out on the field and I don't see my boyfriend and his parents tell me he wasn't feeling good so he didn't come (he had serious health issues). So I'm thinking Great. First I get dumped by his brother and now I find out my boyfriend didn't even come to my graduation. What else can go wrong? Ha. Ha. So my parents come down on the field and I think we took some pictures although I'm probably wrong because I've never seen any pictures from my graduation and people are all coming up and hugging me and I'm all "thanks, thanks" but I'm feeling bummed because my boyfriend wasn't there.
So after awhile, the stadium has pretty much cleared out and I start looking around for my family to let them know I was ready to leave and I can't find them. I'm looking around and asking the few people who are left if they've seen my family and nope, nobody has seen them. That's odd, I think to myself. They know I have no way to get home because we didn't live anywhere near the stadium. And I'm looking for them and it finally dawns on me: THEY LEFT ME. Again. From the time I was an infant, my parents had the bad habit of driving off and forgetting me. I'm not joking. One time, I think I was about 15, they left me, on Christmas night no less, at a party we had gone to and by the time I figured out that they had once again left me behind, it was 2:00am and I had to get a ride with this guy on the back of his motorcycle and we didn't live close by. Freeways were involved and it was the middle of the night and I didn't have a coat or a helmet and I froze but at least someone made sure I got home. I ended up dating that guy for a bit.
But I digress. So I'm standing there, in my cap and gown, abandoned and alone, and finally I see an old friend and I tell him that I got left behind and he's all "again?" and takes me home where I walk in to see all of my family eating and drinking and I'm all " hey thanks for leaving me behind...again" and they're all "oh" and my boyfriend is there so I'm all happy until we went to a graduation party and my boyfriend ended up getting in a fight over me which I found neither romantic nor thrilling and basically it was one helluva rotten Graduation.
So. Flash forward to yesterday, which was Thing 1's graduation (photos will be posted in a later blog entry. This post is about ME). We're at his friend's house, eating and drinking and I'm talking to Thing 1's crony, The Big Julian who shares a birthday with Thing 1, and I don't know how we got on the subject but he asked me where I went to high school and I tell him and he's all "No way! That's where my dad went!" but he says his dad graduated 5 years after me but he thought his dad's brother graduated the same year I did. "What's his name" I ask and Big J tells me his uncle's name and asks if I remembered him.
And I tell Big J that not only did I remember his uncle, I walked with him in the processional at graduation. Way!
So he immediately calls his uncle and asks him if he remembers someone named Kelly Perkins from high school and his uncle tells him," Yeah, I walked with her at my graduation, why do you ask?" Big J tells him that I'm sitting right there and that I'm the mom of his best friend and how crazy is that? And Big J is telling the story to everyone at the party and everyone is all "No way!" and we're all "Way!"
It's a Small World After All.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Glovehead
It's the Silly Photo Challenge over at Squirrel Queen's so after amusing yourself with my contribution, check out the other contestants on her site.
I have no idea what prompted this photo op but I grabbed my camera and recorded it for posterity. Behold, my beautiful and talented son, Thing 1!
He'll go far in life with talent like that.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
I'm all right man, keep your hands off my stash
Things have been a little tight lately. Financially, I mean, although my clothes are also feeling a bit tight lately but I'm blaming THAT on water weight gain. My blog, my excuse. But back to financial issues. The construction industry has been hit pretty bad by the economical situation so TheManTheMyth hasn't had much work and it's affecting the lifestyle I have become accustomed to.
But those days are about to make a 180 degree turn. I am seeing a light at the end of the financial hardship tunnel and things are looking mighty fine.
You see, I have been Officially Informed, via e-mail, by the ATM Card Payment Center that my ATM CARD (since it's capitalized, that means it's legit) has been accredited in my favour, as directed authoritatively by Mr. President (Seriously, that's his actual name, "Mr. President"), FBI and other foreign bodies (David Beckham? I hope it's David Beckham because he's got a nice foreign body. A VERY nice foreign body).
And, this is the good part, my ATM CARD is authorized to withdraw $5,000.00 in American dollars (North or South America?) every day! If I withdraw $5,000 out of the ATM, using my ATM CARD every day, in one year that adds up to, lemme see, carry the one, $1,825,000.00! I can pay off my house, pay for college for Things 1 and 2, buy a new car and best of all, finally get my very own Skee Ball game! I'm practically GIDDY at the thought! I mean, who wouldn't want their very own Skee Ball game?
But before I can receive my ATM CARD and start withdrawing my $5K a day (Hey! That rhymes!), I have to stop any further communication with Persons and Offices who have been discouraging and delaying me from receiving my ATM CARD (all those naysayers who keep trying to "warn" me that this notice is a fraud. Right. Like I believe THAT. They just want to try and steal MY money. Well, back OFF; this money is MINE).
It turns out that there are Non-Officials and Impostors in the Bank who are thwarting my attempt to secure the release of the fund (Wait. "Fund?" As in singular? I thought there were FundS, as in plural.) to me. Mr. President is advicing (his words) me that such an illegal act like this have to stop since he's decided to bring a lasting solution to my problem.
Phew! I am so glad that Mr. President has my best financial interests at heart. He just wants to help me receive my fund. And all I have to do to expedite my ATM CARD is to send him my names (Karizma Stolichnaya among others), fax numbers (I'm sure it's so they can fax me my ATM CARD) and the number of the bank account I want to transfer my fund to along with proof of identity (Um, this is me. Duh).
Once I send Mr. President everything he requires, I'm confident that my ATM CARD will be faxed to me right away and I can begin living a life of Luxury and Status. The downside to all of this is I'm anticipating previously unknown relatives crawling out of the woodwork once word of my largess gets out. Yeah, good luck there; you're not getting any of my money "Cousin Luther."
Now if you'll excuse me, I must start calling Skee Ball suppliers.
But those days are about to make a 180 degree turn. I am seeing a light at the end of the financial hardship tunnel and things are looking mighty fine.
You see, I have been Officially Informed, via e-mail, by the ATM Card Payment Center that my ATM CARD (since it's capitalized, that means it's legit) has been accredited in my favour, as directed authoritatively by Mr. President (Seriously, that's his actual name, "Mr. President"), FBI and other foreign bodies (David Beckham? I hope it's David Beckham because he's got a nice foreign body. A VERY nice foreign body).
And, this is the good part, my ATM CARD is authorized to withdraw $5,000.00 in American dollars (North or South America?) every day! If I withdraw $5,000 out of the ATM, using my ATM CARD every day, in one year that adds up to, lemme see, carry the one, $1,825,000.00! I can pay off my house, pay for college for Things 1 and 2, buy a new car and best of all, finally get my very own Skee Ball game! I'm practically GIDDY at the thought! I mean, who wouldn't want their very own Skee Ball game?
But before I can receive my ATM CARD and start withdrawing my $5K a day (Hey! That rhymes!), I have to stop any further communication with Persons and Offices who have been discouraging and delaying me from receiving my ATM CARD (all those naysayers who keep trying to "warn" me that this notice is a fraud. Right. Like I believe THAT. They just want to try and steal MY money. Well, back OFF; this money is MINE).
It turns out that there are Non-Officials and Impostors in the Bank who are thwarting my attempt to secure the release of the fund (Wait. "Fund?" As in singular? I thought there were FundS, as in plural.) to me. Mr. President is advicing (his words) me that such an illegal act like this have to stop since he's decided to bring a lasting solution to my problem.
Phew! I am so glad that Mr. President has my best financial interests at heart. He just wants to help me receive my fund. And all I have to do to expedite my ATM CARD is to send him my names (Karizma Stolichnaya among others), fax numbers (I'm sure it's so they can fax me my ATM CARD) and the number of the bank account I want to transfer my fund to along with proof of identity (Um, this is me. Duh).
Once I send Mr. President everything he requires, I'm confident that my ATM CARD will be faxed to me right away and I can begin living a life of Luxury and Status. The downside to all of this is I'm anticipating previously unknown relatives crawling out of the woodwork once word of my largess gets out. Yeah, good luck there; you're not getting any of my money "Cousin Luther."
Now if you'll excuse me, I must start calling Skee Ball suppliers.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Happy Kelly Birthday
Well, well, well. It turns out my kvetching about my lack of a birthday party as a child (boo frickety hoo, right?) paid off.
For starters, my son, my wonderful son, used some of the money he received for HIS birthday and surprised his mommy with this:
How wonderful is that? Just when I'm ready to throw him back in the water, he does something that makes me say, "Ok, you can still live in the house" because now that he's 18 and an Adult, we can legally tell him "Don't let the door hit ya on your way out!" if he screws up. Which he won't do because he really is a great kid. I do love my little boy. He drives me nuts sometimes but I love him to pieces.
So, my friend Bubbles calls me up on Friday to tell me that if I'm not doing anything on Sunday (yesterday) around 3:00pm, I might want to mosey on over to my sister's house.
So I get to the house and there's balloons everywhere which make for a party atmosphere. We're having a lovely visit, talking Girl Talk, ok actually, we were talking Middle Age Menopause Talk but hey, it's the camaraderie that counts.
And then, something happens beyond my wildest dreams. Bubbles, my friend Bubbles, who reads my blog and knows how to shut me up when I'm kvetching, produces my birthday gift. A pinata!!! I think I squealed. In fact, I'm pretty sure I did.
We head outside for the pinata bashing
and of course I wasn't allowed to couldn't break open poor Jorge (we named the pinata Jorge) so young Sean (Bubbles' son) and Thing 2 both took turns whacking Jorge with a hockey stick because that was the only weapon we had on hand
and finally Thing 2 struck a mortal blow (she is an Official Pinata Breaker and is available for Children's parties)
and candy went flying everywhere, thus setting off a mad scramble for the candy
And it was Good Candy, too! None of that cheap, icky hard candy that nobody wants. There was Reeses Peanut Butter Cups, Kit Kats, Nerds, ropes of bubblegum, Skittles, Smarties, etc.
After the massacre of Jorge, we went back in the house where we marveled over my birthday cake, lovingly baked by Thing 2 with my BIL adding the inscription
joined in the fun. The balloon would float down toward her and she'd hit it up with her nose to continue the fun. However, Coco was the first to let the balloon hit the floor so she was out and she was not happy about being the first one out of the game. She's not a Gracious Loser, is Coco.
All in all, it was the best birthday party I've ever had and now I can stop carping AND kvetching about never having had a birthday party. I can put it in a bubble and blow it away.
"Happy Kelly Birthday"
For starters, my son, my wonderful son, used some of the money he received for HIS birthday and surprised his mommy with this:
So, my friend Bubbles calls me up on Friday to tell me that if I'm not doing anything on Sunday (yesterday) around 3:00pm, I might want to mosey on over to my sister's house.
So I get to the house and there's balloons everywhere which make for a party atmosphere. We're having a lovely visit, talking Girl Talk, ok actually, we were talking Middle Age Menopause Talk but hey, it's the camaraderie that counts.
And then, something happens beyond my wildest dreams. Bubbles, my friend Bubbles, who reads my blog and knows how to shut me up when I'm kvetching, produces my birthday gift. A pinata!!! I think I squealed. In fact, I'm pretty sure I did.
We head outside for the pinata bashing
After the massacre of Jorge, we went back in the house where we marveled over my birthday cake, lovingly baked by Thing 2 with my BIL adding the inscription
We played an impromptu game of batting a balloon around and the rule was it couldn't hit the floor. Even Coco
All in all, it was the best birthday party I've ever had and now I can stop carping AND kvetching about never having had a birthday party. I can put it in a bubble and blow it away.
"Happy Kelly Birthday"
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