Where time ends...

Looking back, it's hard to believe that it has been over a week now since I've posted. Surely, there have been many a thing happening worthy of mention... but I forget all the relevant items. Mom came into town on Wednesday, which really explains where I have been; there has not been a whole lot of time to really sit down and write anything... we went shopping, to the Art Fair, cooked, went out for dinner, went to Monroe, watched a movie, moved a loveseat and table out to the trash, visited my garden, Farmers Market and generally just visited. It was a nice time and since she left this morning, I've gardened, did 5K worth of speed walking and very little jogging, made my 500th trip to Target, baked and cleaned. Now, I'm tired.

In the last week, I also started physical therapy. Seems that strained hip from the Avon 2-Day walk has not gotten any better. And I am really beginning to question a form of medical intervention that causes more pain. Thursday was my third session, and I left in some amount of aggitation to the afflicted area. By 5 p.m. I was physically ill from pain. I downed a few Tylenol and did some stretching, then went out for a walk with mom. I was sleeping by 730 on the floor and in bed by 830.

PT also provides you with exercises to do daily. What they fail to understand, no matter how much I tell them, is that this isn't new to me. The name for it might not be the same as what I call it, but once I learned what they wanted me to do, it was a no brainer. Try to do 2 sets of 10 they said, and if you can, do 30 total. I did 50 and still had no difficulty, no tiring, nothing they said would be an indicator to stop. Thursday, she said, OK I want you to walk at a normal pace on the treadmill for 5-10 minutes... no incline. Do at least 5, but 10 if you can handle it. I truly do not think they understand that despite this injury, I am very active and I am very good at not letting myself feel the pain. I've explained this in a few different ways. I've explained that I have spent the last 2 years training for marathon distance walks plus and have had personal trainers at least once a year to consult with and that I work out sometimes hours at a time... and they just nod and say yeah, okay, so can you walk at least 10 minutes a day? Very frustrating.

Aside from that bit of aggravation that will continue for at least the next 3 weeks; I did manage to splurge and buy myself a very sweet Wonder Woman purse at the Art Fair. Basically it is a box with handles and has vintage images of Wonder Woman from comics, promos featuring Lynda Carter, and other paraphenilia. A bit pricey, but entirely worth it.

On that note, I shall return later... possibly even this evening. In the meantime, I have yet to eat lunch and it is coming on dinner time.

My INVISIBLE Electric Blue Car

There was was, speeding by a good 10-15 mph over the speed limit on Carpenter, not a car behind me or in the other lane, when a woman comes flying out of the driveway in front of my car, causing me to slam on the new brakes (and here I was trying to keep them new). And now I understand why Wonder Woman had an invisible jet as opposed to an invisible car. My bad.

I also found an inordinate number of pregnant women waltzing in front of my car at random over by Babys R Us... but that is to be expected, I suppose... and my guess is the "rule" is that if you are that pregnant, you just don't stop. I don't know, I've never been, but I'm thinking that's a pretty safe bet. And really, I'm USUALLY not going 55-60 mph through the parking lot over by the Target... not usually.

Things that go on behind open blinds

So, all in all, my adventures in hula hooping is going well enough. It's a lot of fun. I created my own iTunes mix of Hoola Hoop music, but it seems to break my blog when I add it... this will mark the second time I've reposted this!

I did notice my neighbors watching the other day as I hula'ed in front of the TV (and the patio door). Not nearly as startling as the revelation this morning that the other neighbor was watching me get dressed. I had forgotten, or just not realized (cared) that the blinds were open in the bedroom window and was surprised to see a neighbor--clearly not laughing--leaned over his balcony to see into my bedroom. At least I can say that I was not doing anything that was considered outside the standards of normalcy and decency by any conventional definition. At least I wasn't nekkid hula'ing... now that would be simply terrifying!! And definately not decent.

Now, whether it is normal or decent to be photographed while hoola'ing in one's SuperGirl jammies is a whole other estimation.

This Cat's Life

Vinnie looked at me, his eyes big, ears sharp… as if he couldn’t believe I knew his very secret daytime life. And how could I? I was not here during the day.

Late at night, when I can’t sleep for all the lines crossing in my head from the day and previous week passed and those coming up, I make stories up to Vinnie-kitty, who seems attentive enough an audience. His responses are always adequately appropriate… there was the whole Santa Claus fiasco—who knew cats were terrified of Santy Claus. Of course, he’s like a cat burglar in his tactics, so in retrospect, it makes good sense that cats are leery of the big guy. Then, there was the Flying Spaghetti Monster, with whom it turns out cats have a symbiotic love-hate relationship with. Of course, it is not well documented, like most evolutionary theories. Most recently, there was a terrible scare involving the Evil Bunnies that come by each year on the first Sunday following the First Full Moon after the equinox (catholic holiday my ass). Turns out these Evil Bunnies come by and completely terrify all kitties for no good reason… leaving behind eggies of various form and composition. Simply disgusting by all feline account.

But, on this rather chilly, insomniatic evening in May, I uncovered a scathing secret of cat life—they are daytime superheros. It all makes sense, the exhaustion and ravenous appetites they suffer in the evening hours. Mistakenly, I, and others, assumed that cats did nothing but sleep and move about their mousy and SpongeBob toys during the afternoon… but sadly that is only a mere diversion from the real inconvenience they are tagged with—saving the world. It also explains perfectly well why it is I never once caught a glimpse of Mina on Life of Dave’s webcam while they were in Paris.

Now, it is obvious, like most 9 to 5ers, cats take the usual weekend hours off… there are apparent exceptions, like most situations… but for the most part, it seems, this cat’s life is only burdened and inconvenienced with saving the world during work hours. Perhaps dogs cover the non-working hours of cats, which would account for the serious state of affairs these days. As Jake would say, if cats could in fact speak English—it is all simply disgusting… and in much need of being buried, no doubt.

Not your average superhero

It was a typical morning, sitting at my laptop, reading email, eating Cheerios, spilling coffee all over myself... and then it happened--the biggest jumpy spider I have ever seen emerged from a modem box I had yet to recycle. Quickly I sprint to the bathroom, only to discover that my Raid was used up last summer in battling arachnaphobia. It's true, I am not one for pesticides except those with long-range spider killers... but here I was with a gigantic beast roaming about my desk and no Raid. I grabbed the next best thing--hair spray and on the way back to the desk, a pair of kitchen tongs. Armed to the teeth, I was ready to face my foe. I sprayed the hell out of the modem box, however, there was no evidence that the spider was even still there. Nonetheless, I grabbed the box with the kitchen tongs and tossed it out on the balcony. Then best all the papers on the desk with the tongs--just in case.

I have no idea if the spider was tossed out with the hair spray covered box, or if it died of natural causes during the day... I just have to live in the hopes that it is no longer in my place--ready to jump at any moment. You just really never know.