My Martial Arts Training: Foiled by MPLS public transit!

About, oh, 6 months ago, I told you about my co-worker who runs the Nguyen School Of Tae Kwon Do and had offered to teach me for free. Well, a few weeks ago, I was chatting with Brett online and we were talking about fitness and spirituality and how we've both always wanted to take a martial art. So, I finally said, yes, I'm coming for sure to my co-worker. I even brought my change of clothes today in preparation for my foray into the awesome, ancient world of martial arts. I was ready.

But Minneapolis public transit tells me the trip from the school, in Burnsville, to my home, in Minneapolis, "is not possible." Not possible? I HATE THOSE WORDS! But looking at the bus schedule, indeed, Metrotransit is not just providing an convenient excuse for me not to go tonight (I am scared, okay? I am scared of starting a martial art! Why? I don't know, but I've wanted to since my teens and here I am! I think it probably has something to do with my mother discouraging me from any self-defense because it gives one a "false sense of security." I think if I had a black belt in TKD, that wouldn't really be a "false" sense of security). There are no buses leaving from Burnsville after 7:30ish, which is actually before the class even starts.

So what to do? Well, I just checked out Hourcar, but that is going to be $100 start-up cost (app fee plus monthly fee)... so I dunno.

Who wants to drive a future black-belt to Burnsville? I'll karate-chop your ass if you don't!!

ADDENDUM: I don't want to give the wrong impression about my mom and her support for my activities - she and I have different memories about the whole self-defense thing and you know how memories are - they ain't proof of shit. The point is, I have been blessed with extremely supportive parents who let me live my life the way I want and never ever give me crap about getting a better job when I ask them for money. And Mom, you should know that, if I really had the balls to take a self-defense class, I would have by now, no matter what you would have said. I apologize for hanging my fear on you. Love you!

I Called A Squirrel An "Idiot" This Morning

One of the many things I love about Minneapolis (that's right - I do love Minneapolis. I mean, Minneapolis is no New York, but New York is no Minneapolis. Do you know how fun it is to type Minneapolis?) is the abundance of biking options. There are bike paths straight through downtown. We have our own two-way lanes. Now here is a city that respects and loves bikers. Minneapolis drivers, however, have yet to be won over, but there's probably always going to be that biker/driver rivalry until our bikes finally become small hover-crafts. Wait - I would think the bikes would become hover-crafts first because they're smaller and cheaper, but would that take away the fitness aspect of riding a bike? And also the ecological aspect since surely you can't just operate a hover-craft on just pedaling alone. Okay, so, clearly, cars are going to get the hover-craft models first. Fine. That means us bikers will get the streets to ourselves.

Anyway.

I biked into work today. This morning was spent contemplating calling in sick (thanks to a mixture of beer, Sambuca, and sake last night, though I didn't really feel sick, just tired), shaking the residue of a difficult dream wherein I visited my newly separated ex-boyfriend from looooong ago and tried to reconcile my anger and disappointment in him with some wanton lust (what?), ignored my cat's cries for her second bowl of food, and juggling the choice between the bus and biking. Biking won because I know I probably won't get much exercise in this weekend and if I just bike 3 days a week, I can knock exercise off my list of things I have to do. (Yeah, the 30 minutes of yoga a day? Not happening. And I haven't even played the banjo in like 3 days. What?) And I wanted to ride into the sun along the quiet path of The Midtown Greenway.

The Midtown Greenway is one of Minnesota's rail trails for bikes and pedestrians only. It's located parallel to 29th Street South and runs for a long time, though I haven't biked the whole thing yet. But it's gorgeous. Especially now in the springtime, it's so green and it smells good and there's a load of people out there biking and walking and talking, but not too many people that you can't go at your own pace. After the Greenway is a little jaunt through a knot of freeway exits and entrances, but closer to my work is an easy bike path practically to the front door.

I arrived safely and 10 minutes early! But not before almost running over a squirrel and calling it an idiot because I was clearly coming down the path before it made the choice to dart out in front of me. Both the squirrel and I are safe, thank you.

I'm still laughing.

Life is a mucky-muck mush of crap and stuff, so it's no secret that laughing is like, the best thing evar. I do not do it enough these days and I am hard-pressed to have a daily situation where I'm crying from laughter. Even in the 5/5ths Show the other night, I saw a lot of funny stuff at which I sat agog and in awe, but almost none of it made me get that full bodied release of laughter. I miss the days of rehearsing a show and trying to keep a straight face long enough to get through a funny scene (or even a not-funny scene - laughter comes in the strangest of places). That is one of the best laughs: when you're not exactly sure why you're laughing, but something is the funniest thing you've ever seen/heard/done.

I've been on a bit of an emotional roller-coaster the past couple of weeks for many reasons (aside from the fact that I'm just an emotional person!), but even when I get sad, I remind myself that it's all good. I have always believed, even though I think I might have clinical depression, I am happy at my core. I just allow that to get covered in the mucky-muck (name that song).

And then there's that warm feeling you get when something isn't necessarily laugh-out-loud funny (or maybe it is), but it's just so adorable that you can't help but glow from the inside out. My friend posted this a couple of days ago, but I had to go back to it today. I've never met her son, but it's these little stories that make me actually want to have kids (I lean towards the not-having-kids because there are enough frakked-up people in the world).

Enjoy. Everything.

I have plenty of ideas for your money.

Boing Boing posted a fascinating article about very expensive bottled water "for rich morons" (HA!), so I followed the link to the original article, which states:

A few months ago, Madonna’s pal let it slip that the Material Girlfriend spends $10,000 each month for water blessed by Kabbalah rabbis.

And I didn't read much further because this was cause enough for an enraged entry.

$10,000 a month, Madge? SERIOUSLY? On bottled water? Blessed? By Kabbalah rabbis? This is what religion does to you, people: makes you waste your money on someone waving their hand over your drinking water for whatever reason. It sucks enough that hardly any of us can trust our tap water anymore and that probably in a matter of a decade, we'll have to purchase ALL the water we drink. Part of me loves the idea that people can waste money on fancy bottled water because of the possibility of it postponing the inevitable universal shift to bottles. Like their spending exorbitant amounts of money on bottled water will go into the "bottled water fund" that will stave off the greedy, poisonous bastards who want nothing to be free, even a human necessity like water. But, Madonna, come ON! You know I have loved you and your music and your awesomeness for many, many years, but you have nothing else to do with $10,000 a month? I have plenty of ideas.

Sigh... I know that insanely rich people have, probably more often than not, worked really hard for their fortune. This is definitely the case with Madonna. But at this point, is it so inconceivable to now use your money-making-money skills to save the rest of the world with what it seems to so desperately need: money?


P.S. I love that Forbes called her the Material Girlfriend. I mean, I'm pretty out of touch with what Madonna is calling herself these days, but I'm pretty sure it's just The Material Girl, guys.

No really, I think my head might explode

Whoa. I've been really sick. Just the classic flu, the doctor at La Clinca told me yesterday, but it hit me like a truck on Tuesday and I've been struggling to get back to work (literally; as in, coming in to work and leaving after two hours of convincing myself I'm going to feel better... NOW!) the whole rest of the week. I'm much better now with the exception of this insane pressure headache, the likes of which I have never felt before. It's like being at the bottom of a swimming pool without the benefit of coming up for air and laying in the warm sunshine for the rest of the day.

My point is, I'll be back in full force probably on Tuesday.

Merhm. memmm.

I had no other way to describe how I feel right now except maybe "hot, achy, sleepy." Even with the "opposite of AIDS" as I so offensively have termed it (read: I feel I have a very resilient immune system. Trevor said, isn't the opposite of AIDS just not having AIDS? I said, no, I never get sick. Well, someone showed me.), I am still at work because I took an emotionally sick day off last week and I can't afford to take any more off.

I said "no" to the apartment. Because I found my perfect place at the perfect price. One bedroom, hardwood floors, in a four-plex (a house that's been converted into 4 apartments), a dining area that will be the office, natural light, 2 blocks off of Uptown proper, cats totally okay, painted pretty colors already, lots of space... even to have a Wii party. I'll be sending the application today and I'm pretty confident I'll get it.

So, does this or doesn't it bode well for my inability to commit? Maybe I just saw this coming? Maybe I actually know what I'm doing after all.

Society's stranglehold takes another victim

I told myself I wouldn't do it. I knew, from four months of looking at my naked body in the mirror that the weeks and weeks of inactivity and Midwestern meat-eating were taking their toll on my metabolically-challenged (thanks to the nature of aging) temple. I didn't need to do it, but alas, in my new place of residence there lives in the bathroom... a scale. And I stepped on it. And I discovered that I am the heaviest I have ever been, having gained about 10 pounds after moving out here. Which means that I am just under 25 pounds heavier than my "happy weight."

I am of the belief that a person's weight is not indicative of their health, necessarily, unless of course we're talking super overweight. But if you live in your "healthy weight range," you can be on the high end of that range and still be really healthy because of bone-size or because muscle weighs more than fat, etc. But I am at the very heaviest of my healthy weight range and lemme tell you, I'm a medium-frame person and not very strong right now. So I did 25 sit-ups and 10 push-ups last night. Not a lot, but more than I usually do!

I have watched myself balloon and not fit into my favorite pants and not get to wear my tight slogan t-shirts I love. I haven't stuck with my yoga program or my goal of "total vitality" (except for the quitting-smoking-again thing, which is arguably the most important) and I have yet to go to a Tae Kwon Do class. Again, I will allow myself some slack for the "winter weight," but my self-esteem has taken a bit of a slapping about as a result of this new-found flabbiness and it's not only affecting my wardrobe choices, but my sex life as well. As in, I just don't feel sexy. It's a horrible feeling.

I know I still have the body that many women would love to have. I don't give a crap. Sure, I'm grateful for what I have, but I'm even more grateful for what I know I can be. I blow a lot of hot air about nutrition and health and I'm just not practicing what I preach. I can't wait for the weather to pick up so that I can go ride my bike again. And also to make some headway financially so that I can join the Y and do some water fitness classes or something.

But for now, I'll do my sit-ups and jumping jacks and anything else I feel like that will be getting me off my ass.