Friday, July 25, 2014

Rock It

I'm a terrible shopper. I am notorious for buying clothes without trying them on with the rationale that I can return them, as if I have the luxury of all this extra time on my hands. 

On several occasions, I have purchased an outfit that I love but that wasn't offered in my size, but I bought it anyway. My logic was that it would be a great incentive to lose 5lbs. Yeah, that idea might be great in theory - but it's never worked out to my advantage. 

Anyway, about a year ago I bought a dress that falls into the above category: adorable and super sporty, but just a teensie bit too small. It's made out of a wicking material, similar to Title 9 or Athleta's workout clothing line. I recently rediscovered it in the back of my closet, and without really thinking it all the way through ('It's a dress...and I'm riding a bike.'), I decided it might be cute to wear in my spin class. 

I tried it on...only to discover that I couldn't take it off. 

Time was getting short before I had to leave, and I finally had to throw on a pair of Lulu capri pants underneath and rock the outfit - just like I had intended to wear a dress to spin class. The funny thing? Since I had resolve to just go with it, it actually looked kind of cute. I got a few compliments, and taught one of my best classes of the summer. 

ETA: I managed to get the dress off myself, but only after I sent desperate texts to my daughter asking when she'd be home to help me get unstuck.

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Communications

"What? Are you on fire? No? Quit wasting my time; text me that shit!" Aziz Ansari

Admittedly, I was slow getting into the swing of technology: late to have a cell phone, and I came in about 2-3 years after texting was a thing. But now that it's in my life? Holy texting, Batman! 

I LOVE TEXTING. 

I can't emphasize this enough. It is all the good things about succinct communication, with the added benefit of emoticons to drive a point home.

I'm not very good at IM, PM, or FB messenger. It's enormously disconcerting to have shit pop-up while I'm mid-thought...and in Facebook, I've juggled several tandem conversations and thought I was going to lose my nut.

And I am shame-faced to admit that I love getting into a formal, are-you-really-going-there email rant/discussion. I love writing, and I'll beat a misunderstanding or grievance to death with grammar, kindness and 'Oh, No You Didn't'. It gives me a perverse sense of pleasure. 

Talking on the phone? Not so much, unless it's my mom. My mom doesn't live in California and I only get to see her a couple times a year, so we've spent hours on the phone. She doesn't text, although secretly I wish she did. Mostly because she is hopeless with technology, and I am the cruel person who would love to see how that actually played out. It would make great for excellent blog material. For my kids, I actually have a siren-type ringer set on my phone for each of their numbers - because if they're calling me? It's an emergency.

Skype or Facetime? No, and hell no. Just no. I am far too obsessed about what I look like that it drives me to distraction. I spent the majority of a recent Skype call with my daughter's college adviser smoothing my hair, which never resonates confidence. 

My honey? We rarely talk or text during the work day because we're both too busy. Besides, I prefer good old-fashioned face-to-face time with him, any day of the week. *wink, wink*  

Monday, July 14, 2014

Thirty

30 years ago, a high school teacher had the foresight to invite a panel of speakers to my family health class. These men shared their experience, strength and hope. 

It happened around the time it occurred to me that I probably wouldn't live to see my 18th birthday...and that I didn't really even care. The selfless actions of my health teacher and the three men had a hand in changing the outcome of my life.


Meditation votive candles with hand-decorated match boxes

I am enormously grateful and very blessed. All the goodness in my life is a direct result of the altruism of a few amazing people, and my only job is to pay that forward. 

It is my privilege to do so.