My husband named the blog. He was playing a dungeony game. Go figure.
Friday, January 18, 2013
Zumba is for shakers
Being as I am a person of sound mind and less-than-sound body, it would seem that a logical answer to a rebelling body is to feed it strength and starve it of crap. So, on Thursday when I got a text from Courtney at 5:45 saying that we should check out Zumba for the free week of Fun Fit Forever at 6:00, I said sure. I had a vague idea of what Zumba was. It had been presented to me in the following terms:
--A blast!
--So good for you!
--So fun it's not even like real exercise!
Those are things I like in my exercise, if I ever like exercise. We walked in, and I was amazed by how many people there were. At least 50, I'd say. Believe me when I tell you that out of those 50 people, I was the saddest mover out there.
It started out fair enough. They played Aqua's Barbie Girl, and, perhaps because I know the lyrics, the dance moves we did to them were easy enough to remember and repeat. Next was Do You Love Me. That was similarly awesome. I can do this.
Then every song was incredibly fast-paced Latin music in Spanish. That's fine. But I couldn't understand the lyrics at that pace and thus had no idea when they were repeating, so I had even less of a chance of hooking the lyrics up to some smooth movies. Unfortunately, as I'm a Spanish minor, this was depressing in more ways than one.
I swear, everybody else in that room was straight from the set of Step Up. Or Step Up 2. Or Magic Mike. Some Channing Tatum dancing movie, anyway. They were shaking bits of themselves that I don't even know how to shake. My body doesn't do seduction. I get by in romance on sheer enthusiasm, I think. I don't even shake those parts in the privacy of my own home with my husband. And all these people, all in unison, shaking what I previously thought was unshakeable, moving the unmoveable, thrusting the unthrustable, stroking the unstrokeable. Well, let me amend. I totally can shake my chest, but I try not to, both because it HURTS when you have more than a B cup (or a C or D cup in my case) and because I'd rather not put someone's eye out.
Of course, it didn't help that, anticipating my poor dance skills, I situated myself at the back of the room. Unfortunately, I was only even passable at the first two dances. It turns out that after each dance the people in back move forward. I was getting progressively bad and progressively visible. Not awesome.
My mantra, not so much "I can do this!" as "What the HELL!" was on repeat in my brain. And for some songs I just stood there like an idiot in a sea of enthusiastic ants on crack (or unbelievably good dancers) and shrugged.
My one comfort is that if someone else was feeling a little self-conscious about their moves (not likely!), they could at least point to me and go, "Well... at least I'm not as bad as THAT girl." And then I have the luxury of responding to them in my head with, "Yeah, well, I'm disabled, jackass."
I'm definitely going again next week.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
No continuity, but an update all the same.
Painting, school, home decor, new love affair with obtaining that one really PERFECT item for my home for cheap or free, many video games, weddings, and new traditions.
These are the things that have been filling my time since my last update. I'm again enrolled in school, and I have retraced my steps back to my original major. I'm finding it exciting. There may be more on that later, but I've learned to not make promises. I'm terrible at this. In July, I saw Courtney get married to our extra roommate from freshman year, and that was amazing. There may be photos of me bawling my eyes out. We've started a tradition with them to take turns doing dinner each week, and it's nice.
My little brother moved in with us about a week ago, as he's starting school in the spring. I'm really proud of him. He's a smart cookie and cracks me up. It's been good.
There's so much I'm missing, but that's all I feel like writing for now, so...
The end.
These are the things that have been filling my time since my last update. I'm again enrolled in school, and I have retraced my steps back to my original major. I'm finding it exciting. There may be more on that later, but I've learned to not make promises. I'm terrible at this. In July, I saw Courtney get married to our extra roommate from freshman year, and that was amazing. There may be photos of me bawling my eyes out. We've started a tradition with them to take turns doing dinner each week, and it's nice.
My little brother moved in with us about a week ago, as he's starting school in the spring. I'm really proud of him. He's a smart cookie and cracks me up. It's been good.
There's so much I'm missing, but that's all I feel like writing for now, so...
The end.
Monday, May 28, 2012
Moving Saga. Pictures to follow.
We have moved! We are now in an apartment --in the same house-- which is roughly 3x the size of our old one. The place is a mess currently, but the old apartment? Empty as of tonight--minus cleaning supplies. It's been an adventure for sure.
We decided to move to this new apartment when it came available because, as you may or may not know, to access my bedroom in the old apartment, I had to crawl down a hole in our kitchen floor via ladder. I'll be honest; it was a MAJOR selling point at first. I loved it. It was so quirky and happy and so inexpensive. It also just happened to include a clawfooted tub while also managing to be the most dilapidated --and yet somehow charming--place I'd ever seen. I was and am very attached to it--more on that later, but we decided we needed to move because my joints are getting worse. On bad days, I couldn't make it up the ladder at all. I had to sit in our bedroom until Tim got home from work (on lunch or for the day), so he could help me even make it to the bathroom sometimes. That's just not fun. That said, I've been doing pretty well lately, and nobody who didn't already know that I've got physical issues would guess.. I think. The new place is pretty handicap accessible. No stairs -- or ladders -- of any kind, and the rooms are wheelchair and scooter friendly. It's nice to know that now on bad days I won't be stuck in a dungeon.
ANYWAY. The MOVE.
First of all, I got the keys to the new place and happily strolled right in. I saw a toothbrush on the kitchen counter and thought it was a bit odd, but I figured the cleaners had used them to make things spotless. I was so, so wrong. I meandered down the hall and peered into the office. It was littered with pizza boxes, bedding, pillows, and Taco Bell bags. This is when I began to get a little uncomfortable. I made my way back to the kitchen, and upon inspection I found numerous items hidden in the cupboards. Bear in mind, Tim and I had already walked through the place, which at the time had yet to be cleaned and smelled of dog, but which was *empty*. I opened the bathroom door and found towels and body wash.
My next call was to the property management people. "We have squatters. I've just picked up the key from you, and I've walked in, and someone is living in here." I was also informed it had already been professionally cleaned. OH MAN. The people who lived here before us had a dog. I know this because I heard him whimper for hours at a time. I do not know what he looks like. Not once in the near year and a half that I have shared a house with these people did I see him. The proof is in the pudding. Or, in this case, the pee is in the carpets.
But, oh, not only did the carpet smell awful, the baseboard were COATED in dog hair, the bathroom floor had some kind of disgusting grime, there were dead bugs in our window sills, and the list goes on. The worst part was the smell though. Allegedly, this place had already been cleaned and readied for us! We know the cleaners had been in and allegedly done their thing because we talked to them. Not only was it nasty and smelly, but we had squatters!
The property management people were horrified and sent someone to change the locks right away and, upon having us offer to clean the place, agreed and said we'd get a sizable discount on our first month's rent. Nice. The lock changer arrived. I hadn't dared move any of our things despite the fact that I had all kinds of people ready to help me move that day because.. well, someone was living there.
As he checked the door, some strange man and who I presume to be his girlfriend also showed up. I asked if I could help them, feeling a little defensive of the place which was--on paper, at least--mine. The man claimed to be the "friend" of the previous tenants, and he said that there was a mistake, that he should be allowed to live there until June. This may have been plausible if the same lock changer had not also arrived earlier on a weeks-old work ticket and called the previous tenant ahead of time to be sure he was gone. He assured him that oh yes, he was gone. He had been out since the fifth and was done with the place.
ANYWAY. Basically, there was a very awkward confrontation where the lock changer used the word squatters a lot at the mystery man, and the mystery man allegedly phoned the previous tenant to rant at him about it, blah blah blah. The lock man then let his intentions be known that he was about to change the locks. Mystery Man then turned to each of us in turn and somehow, within the pits of his stomach, found the balls to say, "Please don't change the locks." Um, what? My name is on the lease, you're in here when you're not meant to be, and this is now MY HOME. "Please don't change the locks." WHAT. WHAT. WAIT. REALLY?
He: [previous tenant] is going to come back this weekend and clean it; he wants deposit money.
Me: No. No, that won't work. I am MOVING IN. Like, right now. That won't work.
He: They say they cleaned it, but it's bad, so he is going to come back...
Me: No, he isn't. This is my home now. I am moving in.
This went on for some time. SERIOUSLY.
The locks get changed, and the carpet is so bad that the property management people offer to clean it again, but the carpet cleaner said there was nothing more he could do. So then the carpet was going to be replaced. Then the property owners (different from management) decided that no, they didn't want to do that. New carpet people arrived, not having been forewarned that people were, y'know, at least halfway living here, and they showed up while I was sleeping. I like to sleep in the buff. SIGH.
Anyway, they redo the carpets, I spent 30 hours cleaning the ALLEGEDLY CLEAN place top to bottom, and then it floods. Yep, you read that correctly. The bedroom flooded when it rained. They then said they fixed it. Yesterday, it flooded again. (They really are fixing it now, but ARGH!)
All of that said, I am in love with the new place. It smells good now, and it's so spacious. I'm excited to have a real place for us. I shall post a video tour of the place tomorrow (probably), and when we get moved in and settled, be prepared for oodles of attempts at homemakery stuff. Decor, food, whatever! I have never been excited about decorating in my life. Maybe I ought to see a doctor.
We decided to move to this new apartment when it came available because, as you may or may not know, to access my bedroom in the old apartment, I had to crawl down a hole in our kitchen floor via ladder. I'll be honest; it was a MAJOR selling point at first. I loved it. It was so quirky and happy and so inexpensive. It also just happened to include a clawfooted tub while also managing to be the most dilapidated --and yet somehow charming--place I'd ever seen. I was and am very attached to it--more on that later, but we decided we needed to move because my joints are getting worse. On bad days, I couldn't make it up the ladder at all. I had to sit in our bedroom until Tim got home from work (on lunch or for the day), so he could help me even make it to the bathroom sometimes. That's just not fun. That said, I've been doing pretty well lately, and nobody who didn't already know that I've got physical issues would guess.. I think. The new place is pretty handicap accessible. No stairs -- or ladders -- of any kind, and the rooms are wheelchair and scooter friendly. It's nice to know that now on bad days I won't be stuck in a dungeon.
ANYWAY. The MOVE.
First of all, I got the keys to the new place and happily strolled right in. I saw a toothbrush on the kitchen counter and thought it was a bit odd, but I figured the cleaners had used them to make things spotless. I was so, so wrong. I meandered down the hall and peered into the office. It was littered with pizza boxes, bedding, pillows, and Taco Bell bags. This is when I began to get a little uncomfortable. I made my way back to the kitchen, and upon inspection I found numerous items hidden in the cupboards. Bear in mind, Tim and I had already walked through the place, which at the time had yet to be cleaned and smelled of dog, but which was *empty*. I opened the bathroom door and found towels and body wash.
My next call was to the property management people. "We have squatters. I've just picked up the key from you, and I've walked in, and someone is living in here." I was also informed it had already been professionally cleaned. OH MAN. The people who lived here before us had a dog. I know this because I heard him whimper for hours at a time. I do not know what he looks like. Not once in the near year and a half that I have shared a house with these people did I see him. The proof is in the pudding. Or, in this case, the pee is in the carpets.
But, oh, not only did the carpet smell awful, the baseboard were COATED in dog hair, the bathroom floor had some kind of disgusting grime, there were dead bugs in our window sills, and the list goes on. The worst part was the smell though. Allegedly, this place had already been cleaned and readied for us! We know the cleaners had been in and allegedly done their thing because we talked to them. Not only was it nasty and smelly, but we had squatters!
The property management people were horrified and sent someone to change the locks right away and, upon having us offer to clean the place, agreed and said we'd get a sizable discount on our first month's rent. Nice. The lock changer arrived. I hadn't dared move any of our things despite the fact that I had all kinds of people ready to help me move that day because.. well, someone was living there.
As he checked the door, some strange man and who I presume to be his girlfriend also showed up. I asked if I could help them, feeling a little defensive of the place which was--on paper, at least--mine. The man claimed to be the "friend" of the previous tenants, and he said that there was a mistake, that he should be allowed to live there until June. This may have been plausible if the same lock changer had not also arrived earlier on a weeks-old work ticket and called the previous tenant ahead of time to be sure he was gone. He assured him that oh yes, he was gone. He had been out since the fifth and was done with the place.
ANYWAY. Basically, there was a very awkward confrontation where the lock changer used the word squatters a lot at the mystery man, and the mystery man allegedly phoned the previous tenant to rant at him about it, blah blah blah. The lock man then let his intentions be known that he was about to change the locks. Mystery Man then turned to each of us in turn and somehow, within the pits of his stomach, found the balls to say, "Please don't change the locks." Um, what? My name is on the lease, you're in here when you're not meant to be, and this is now MY HOME. "Please don't change the locks." WHAT. WHAT. WAIT. REALLY?
He: [previous tenant] is going to come back this weekend and clean it; he wants deposit money.
Me: No. No, that won't work. I am MOVING IN. Like, right now. That won't work.
He: They say they cleaned it, but it's bad, so he is going to come back...
Me: No, he isn't. This is my home now. I am moving in.
This went on for some time. SERIOUSLY.
The locks get changed, and the carpet is so bad that the property management people offer to clean it again, but the carpet cleaner said there was nothing more he could do. So then the carpet was going to be replaced. Then the property owners (different from management) decided that no, they didn't want to do that. New carpet people arrived, not having been forewarned that people were, y'know, at least halfway living here, and they showed up while I was sleeping. I like to sleep in the buff. SIGH.
Anyway, they redo the carpets, I spent 30 hours cleaning the ALLEGEDLY CLEAN place top to bottom, and then it floods. Yep, you read that correctly. The bedroom flooded when it rained. They then said they fixed it. Yesterday, it flooded again. (They really are fixing it now, but ARGH!)
All of that said, I am in love with the new place. It smells good now, and it's so spacious. I'm excited to have a real place for us. I shall post a video tour of the place tomorrow (probably), and when we get moved in and settled, be prepared for oodles of attempts at homemakery stuff. Decor, food, whatever! I have never been excited about decorating in my life. Maybe I ought to see a doctor.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Life blogging starts today.
Tim and I are likely moving to Texas for a while, and I need to be better at catching people up in general. I never get past the introducing myself part, so I'm going to jump right into the meat of things.
Today is March 3, 2012. I have been married for nearly 8 months now. I have Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, which complicates my life. I live in Logan--and right now, I'm tired.
We've been visiting Roosevelt for about a week and a half now in hopes I can recuperate enough to spend some time being a productive individual. These aren't the darkest times of my life, but I anticipate things getting better from here. I have a doctor's appointment on the 8th to get an idea of exactly what I'm dealing with, health-wise.
Travis and Bryan and their families arrived yesterday to visit home as well. It has been good to see them. Being around my family helps me recharge. I'm tired now, so I'll hopefully write more later/tomorrow/whenever.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Info on the big day
On June 11th, 2011, I'm lucky enough to marry my best friend, Tim. The wedding is at 3, with a reception following at 4 at Merlin Olsen Park. See the map to the left if you're not sure how to get there. :)
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