Wordless Wednesday - timeout

I have noticed that when I close the curtains in the bedroom, Tuesday tends to still face and look at the curtains. I haven't figured out what she is doing or why, listening maybe? I find this funny because it looks just like she has put herself in timeout.

Wordless Wednesday

Why I love thee, let me count the ways

In honor of Valentine's Day I have a post dedicated to why I love Saint -

It is so easy to be with you. We don't really do anything, but we do it well, together.

You are always on my side (even when there isn't a side to take) and it makes coming home from a tough day, that much easier.

You have my gift long before we decide not to exchange gifts.

Even after the eighteenth text - in one day - of I love you, you still return the text with you love me.

The relationship you have with my cat, Izabel, is strained at the very least, but knowing that she may not be happy in our new city, you agree to take her if necessary. You also choose to switch sides of the bed with me rather than sweep Izabel off your side of the bed.

You are willing to push aside the mushrooms and other miscellaneous veggies that I like to eat and cook with which you are not a fan of.

For Band Day, you lent me your Guns N Roses tee.

You are willing to be on "alien watch" even though we both know it is simply because the scientist in you must know what that damn noise is that keeps me awake at night.

I am reading a book about religion and send you a text that I would like to go visit and stay in an Amish Bed n Breakfast, even though initially you are against it, you resign because you know it will make me happy (and it will give you something else to make fun of).

With bad knees and a work time of 3am, you are still willing and able to don a pair of ice skates and hobble around the arena listening to Justin Bieber on Teen night with a bunch of swooning middle age school girls and my niece.

And these are just a few of the reasons why I am so lucky to have Saint in my life.

Happy Valentine's Day peeps!!

Maybe I was a Bouncer in a past life

Today was a crazy day for people!!

I got to call the police on a couple of women who apparently got in a fist fight. One woman punched the other. I got the call when I was on my lunch hour. I came out and the one women who was punched was just hanging out in the cafe while the other was laying on the floor in the bathroom. I talked to the cafe manager and let her know I had called the police and since both women were contained we should leave them be til the police arrive. I found out later from the police officer that both women were intoxicated.

Then right before I left, three guys came hobbling in, obviously drunk. I had to ask them to leave. One of them had a smart mouth and decided to argue with me. I used my motherly voice and said, "Sir you have two choice, one - you can leave, two - you can stay and be arrested. Which would you prefer?" He kept arguing with me, so I used the, "I will give you one more time to make a choice and then I will make it for you . . ." When I turned to go call the police, he ran out the door.

When I first realized that dealing with the occasional drunk person would be part of my job, I was concerned because I am not a fan of confrontational situations, but I have to say, being able to ask someone to leave has a certain ring to it that on a bad day, feels good. We do have a security guard, but he is only scheduled five out of the seven days which leaves us to bounce as well.

Hoping to see a Taser

I was on my way to my parent's house the other day and when I came to the their street that I turn right down, there were tons of cones, police squad cars and it was roped off in most areas.

A large group of people were apparently doing some sort of a marathon, so going down a good ten minute drive the entire right side of the street was roped off making it a bit difficult to turn right since I had to wait til the running crowd cleared. Coincidentally, the people who were trying to get out of that area had to wait til the runners got by to come out of the street.

Here I am waiting patiently. I am watching the police officer who was directing traffic and the runners. I am checking out the runners in my rear view mirror and side mirror. After about six minutes, I see this woman stalk out of her car, very dramatically slam her car door shut and then proceed to stomp her way over the police officer. She was about five cars back in the line.

I see her get about five feet from the officer when he sees her. He points her back to her car and she is very theatrically waiving her arms and yelling at him. He just keeps shaking his head and pointing in the direction of her car.

I find this very entertaining and proceed to add voices to the conversation I am seeing, but mostly I am thinking (and slightly hoping) that this woman will be tasered because REALLY we are all waiting. What is this woman really going to do or say that will change this fact???

Finally after a few moments of dramatic exchange she huffs back to her car and squeals out, turning around and going back the opposite way. About this time there is enough of a gap that I pull through. I watch as this woman races over the speed bumps and out of the neighborhood. She had to be going at least twice the speed limit because her van was jumping over the speed humps.

I find it really sad that this woman felt the need to make a scene like this entire world is about her. I get that she may be running late, that she has to pick up her kid from school or make a doctor's appointment (I don't really know), but so do the rest of us. Did she once ever consider how we felt or the runners (who I am guessing) spent months preparing for this event? I doubt it.

I am also really disappointed because I would have had a front row seat to a woman being tasered. Damn. For once someone might have been held accountable for their actions/words.

Valentine's games

I texted Saint more than a few weeks ago stating that we should just keep Valentine's simple. I didn't want us to exchange gifts, only cards.

On a side note, I really don't like Valentine's Day. I think it is nice when kids are in school, exchanging small little cards, little things of candy. I think it is another way to show you care with a card or a box of chocolates, but on the whole I think it is so OVERRATED and I just can't stand the commercialism with it all. (ahem, that's just me)

I get a text back from Saint saying, Though this is great, he has already got something for me.

Well, Damn it! Now what?

He texts me and says not to worry about getting him something. Which is fine. If I get him a card, that's enough right.

Right?

RIGHT????

Now my head starts swimming because what happens if it isn't enough for him? What if he gets hurt or upset if I do only give him a card. Actually, I would probably do a card and some small piece of candy that he likes to go with it, like a box of Mike and Ikes. But is that enough?

So I tell him, no gift. He agrees and says, the gift he got me will just be a "thinking of you" type of gift that he will give me at some point.

Great!

Some more time passes and I start losing it. I text him and say, no let's exchange gifts.

HA! I don't have a damn thing in mind or picked out. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME???

He agrees. (isn't he wonderful?)

Now I realize my crazy and say, forget it all. I am nuts and let's just exchange cards. NOTHING MORE I SWEAR.

He laughs and says no. It's set. Gifts for Valentine's Day. (obviously, he can only be patient for so long with me)

Ugh. I am an idiot. Now I need a gift for him and I don't have a flippin' clue except the original and always useful lingerie. Which if you ask me, is for me and not him, but apparently it's a gift that keeps giving, if you ask most guys. (?)

I have been messing with Saint the last few days I spent with him and would say, I want to open my gift now. He laughs and plays along, but says no. I play it up and say, no really. It's killing me. Just give it to me and we'll call it even. How about a clue? He finally gives in and says one thing - before I give it to you, you'll have to make a promise.

GASP!

Then says, I still have to wait til Valentine's Day.

Bastard!!

Now I am all up in arms. What could it possibly be? What gift requires a promise first??

I'm loving that I can't figure it out. What a great idea for a gift. A puzzle first . . .

A childs playground for adults

There is only one place that one can choose - not only choose, but call weeks ahead in order to possibly attain an appointment. Only to go, pay, then wait for twenty minutes (if I am lucky, but more likely forty minutes) only to be called again which makes me leap up in excitement that I was called "Oh, yes, Heidi, that's me!!" Only to be led through multiple wings with random plain colored doors and made to weigh myself then led into another waiting room where I am poked and prodded for things like blood pressure and temperature.

I am left to my own devices for another twenty minutes (if I am lucky, but more likely forty minutes). Where after ten minutes, I turn into a child and get up and open drawers, look through and play with tongue depressors, thermometers, the mercury thingy on the wall. I change chairs. I look in depth at the poster on the wall depicting eyes, ears, nose and other miscellaneous body parts and their innards wondering which of the diseases depicted that I may or may not have.

After thirty minutes, I am told that the person I am coming to see, is not here yet, but I am in first in line WHEN they get here. Which makes me happy and relieved that at least I am first. But after another twenty minutes, I start to wonder - how do I really know I am first in line? I didn't even know they weren't here in the first place. The door is closed and even if I peek out (which I do) I won't see or hear anyone else because heaven knows where the nurses stand is after so many twists and turns.

I slink back into the room and sit, pondering why it is that I do this once a year (at least, if I am luck, but more likely two to three times a year). Why is it that I pay someone to sit and wait, sit and wait and then be poked and prodded and then given a prescription where I go and wait more.

When I least expect it, the magical person appears and I instantly remember why I come here, pay, wait and wait some more - because I like this doctor.

First time ever, I have walked out of a doctors office with a prescription of Valium.

Downward facing dog

Attended my first yoga class at the local gym and of course, loved it!

I have taken yoga at home before (as I have practiced, in my own manner, P90x) and I really enjoy it, but as moving to a new city can bring on the agoraphobia tendencies, I decided to GO OUT to workout. It gives me another excuse to meet people, or maybe just be around people. Not that I don't get enough of people at work, but it is different, I am different, in a relaxed setting.

Who knows, maybe I will meet some friends. Or just people I can talk to for the five minutes before and after class. That would be okay too.

I got there - a tiny bit late because I left my gym pass at home. Yes, we all roll our eyes. Hey people, it was in my hands when I left, but I had to go back and found it lying on the garage floor. I dropped it on my way out. Easy mistake.

I kicked off my shoes and socks and hung my jacket (yes, it is 6 degrees outside, I had a jacket on) and then quickly threw a mat on the floor and tried to breath like I had been there for the past five minutes. Surprisingly, it didn't take that long to get comfortable.

I am okay with almost all the basic yoga poses, except for one. TREE. I can completely fake the balance thing throughout all of yoga, but for the damn tree pose. For those not familiar with tree, stand with feet shoulder width apart, place one foot on the ankle of the other and then raise my arms out to my side and up at a 45 degree angle. Basically stand on one foot and then put my hands up. The really good yoga peeps can put their foot all the way up into their crotch.

I've tried it all - close my eyes; focus on a non-moving object; stare at myself in the mirror. I can't seem to do it for more than a second. Though tonight I figured out I last longer if I start on my left foot. Apparently, I am strong with that side and then I can manage the other side okay. It is really hard to be the one to trip others up too. The class is so peaceful, then to see someone (me) go wobbly (in the mirror) and then fall usually results in a few others, then more til the entire class has lost its balance. Hey, welcome not only the late comer, but the one with no balance. Teehee

I like that this class looks like many people around my age - above and below. I liked that this class has women of all sizes and shapes. I feel like I fit in well. They all seemed smiley, talkative and nice.

I have noticed, not so subtly that my body has changed quite a bit since I moved here. It could be that I turned 32 this year. It could be that I am eating what I want, when I want, with very few restrictions or stopping of myself. It could be that I haven't worked out in oh, geez I don't know how long. It could be that we sell Godiva chocolates at work and I have realized how easy it is to go and buy a bar. It could be that I have developed a small routine of oatmeal at home and then a coffee and scone for a mid morning snack. It could be that I have holed up a bit since I moved to a city where I don't know anyone and feel a little home sick.

I am trying to do better. I am trying to cut down on the sweets. I am trying to work fruit and veggies in my diet. I am trying to get out a little each week and walk or be around people. I am trying to do some meditative breathing. I am trying to work in positive thinking or positive visualization time.

But oh, it is so hard.

So, I joined this gym and this class.

And you know what?

It's a good feeling.

I left in tune with not only my body and my breathing, but with the city, the class and wow, is there more?

Then promptly froze my a** off while running (yes, running or more like sprinting) to my car in the 6 degree weather and wind that felt like it would tear the flesh right off my skin.