1. I just read the blogs of three daughters of one of my friends. Oh my but I want to comment and tell those girls how much I love when they post, I love reading about their lives, I love seeing their pictures--but you know, I don't want to be that person who hijacks all of the posts by commenting like cra-cra. But I do love reading them.
2. And speaking of my mom...rim shot...but seriously. Mom stopped by on Saturday while Jr was stapling black sparkly fabric to the dining room ceiling in order to make it look all starry for the party that night. Jr's friends said they couldn't believe his mom allowed him to take over the house with all of his party plans. My mom sat right there in my rocking chair and told him he needed to stop asking permission and just do what he wanted because it was much easier to just do what you want and not ask permission. That's how she's lived her whole life, she actually said that, and really what were people going to do anyway if you just did what you wanted and then they could just get over it, right? Kids of mine, if you're reading this post, please close your eyes and don't read this next part, because, WTF? My whole entire livelong life has been about trying to get permission from my mom who ALWAYS SAID NO FIRST. I was so stunned to hear her actually admit to any of this. I've recently realized that she's going to do whatever she pleases so just get over it, but to hear her say it? Sorry to Jr's friends who thought I was annoyed at him stapling stuff to the ceiling. My RAGE had nothing to do with him or his party plans. I was just ticked off that I'd missed out on all sorts of who knows what by ALWAYS ASKING PERMISSION AND BEING TOLD NO. Jeez. Seriously?
3. Okay. Take a breath. Next. I still haven't made that banana bread. But I did bake two batches of cupcakes for the party, and while they aren't those fancypants cupcakes you see at the fancypants cupcake stores that are EVERYWHERE--well, they are still pretty tasty with their chocolate frosting and festive sprinkles, and I have done my best to make sure none of them go to waste.
4. And speaking of cupcakes. Jack, Jr and I went to the nearby gym tonight to join up. We took a tour and it has everything we could possibly need and it's about three minutes away. Perfect, right? During the tour, our guide pointed out a large room that had mirrors from floor to ceiling. I thought he said it was the angry workout room. He clarified by saying it was the main workout room. Okay. Makes sense. Then he made us walk upstairs to see all of the workout equipment. Yes, that's right, exercising to go see the exercise equipment. Then he offered to show us the locker rooms. Did he let me go with them into the mens' locker room? No, no he did not. He sent me down the hall to the womens' locker room, which was very nice, and while walking back to meet up with the guys, I noticed the angry workout room was full of women so I peeked in and before I knew what happened, I was right in the middle of a zumba class. Yep. Me and zumba. I could make a list of all the stuff I learned about zumba but I'll just point out two things--first, I have absolutely zero idea how to shake my butt like that teacher was shaking hers. And I can't remember what the other thing was. Probably something about how I haven't really exercised for the past 30 years and I'm pretty sure I need a handful of advil stat. Or about whose crazy idea was it to put mirrors on every wall in the angry workout room? No wonder people are angry. Okay, yes it was fun to move to the music, even if I was frequently creating moves all of my own, but I suspect that any increased amount of movement has to help me feel more fit, right, or at least after a couple of weeks and some advil?
5. Oh wait, back to the cupcakes. I was feeling so proud for lasting through the entire 55 minute zumba class that I rewarded myself with a cupcake. So there you have it. I zumba'd and ate cupcakes. Yes, I had one before we went to the gym. There's only one left, so probably by the time I go to bed I will be all done confessing my eating of snacks. Until I make that banana bread.
One last thing--has this been the most beautiful autumn or what? Yes, windy and colder today and probably rainy tomorrow, but seriously. The colors and the temperature and the feeling. Remarkable.
3 comments:
banana bread counts as a fruit because the first word of it's name is a fruit.
Cupcakes are a category unto themselves, and lo! that category is filled with goodness, zumba or no zumba. But I am impressed that you got in there with the ladies and did the zumba. Please continue with inspiring stories of exercising at the gym, as I am in danger of hibernating stat, with advil and small stretches and not enough serious exercise. I need some inspiration.
Well, that is the craziest about your mom. But there you go. You now have the word, directly from the source. Just do what you want and don't ask permission. And eat all the cupcakes you want. (that last part is just me.)
I think you should comment on everyone's blogs. No asking permission! Its the way to live. ;)
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