Idol outrage!

American Idol’s David Archuleta should be disqualified from the competition as he definitely has had prior professional work in the television field. See for yourself. This is scandalous.

Out of commission

I injured myself really badly today at the health club. When I say badly, I mean it in the way that someone who is nonathletic and has never injured themselves during a sporting event, and finally has an injury, would say it. It happened after my morning workout. I met Jen at 9:00 a.m. for elliptical work, power walking around the indoor track and then weight training in the Magnum Room (the other day the trainer said to meet her in the Magnum Room and I thought we were going to a wine bar). But that’s another story. So today, we were finished lifting weights and I remembered that they were starting a volleyball group for open play on the basketball court. Jen and I booked it to the court and proceeded to play a few matches with the other members.

There weren’t enough players and the trainer who was in charge went to the men’s weight room and recruited some big guys to play with us. The minute they showed up it totally changed the dynamics of the game. These guys acted like the current match was the most important volleyball match in the history of the world. This guy would jump up and spike the ball with all the power he had in his overgrown bicep. He had no control over where the ball would go either. Usually he used so much power that the ball would boom past the back line and be out anyway.

So it was my turn to serve and I thought to myself, I’m not going to let this muscle head beat us. I was able to suck it up and actually serve about six serves that the other team couldn’t return. I was sweating and my heart was pumping and I was totally taken back to when I was 16 and played on a girls volleyball team. It was the one sport I was pretty decent at. That girl came alive in me today and when the other team finally returned a ball, I was jumping and hopping around the court like I thought I was Gabby Reece. I leaped to get a rougue ball and felt something pop in the back of my leg by the calf muscle. I went down and cracked the opposite knee on the wood floor. Everyone gathered around and I tried to stand up, but couldn’t. Muscle Head broke the tension by saying that they could wheel me over to the back line and I could just serve for the rest of the game. Everyone laughed. O.k., so he wasn’t all bad. We iced my calf as blood trickled from the opposite knee. The trainer wrote up an accident report and said that I was in shock, but I know this much, I hadn’t felt so alive in years.

Only funny if you’ve seen Juno

Maddie’s in 5th grade and today the kids at school were forced to watch “the video”. You know the one. Back in our day they called it the birds and the bees. Today it’s called Growth and Development or A.K.A. the Sex Education video. After the presentation, the kids were presented with little samples of hygiene products. Maddie said that one boy named Kesley proudly showed off his new deodorant as he sang loudly, “TITANIUM POWERRRRRRRRRRRR.”

Oh Andy…

I’m embarrased to admit that I have been secretly thrilled that The Mole is coming back to tv. I was a Mole fan back when Anderson Cooper was the unknown host and I tuned in every week to see him. (So you see, I loved him before I knew he was a Vanderbilt). He made the show seem exciting and I loved how they used that new camera technique a lot that made the image shaky (you know, like they do all the time now in movies like Cloverfield and The Blair Witch Project). The show returns May 26th but I read an article online that said unfortunately Andy (that’s what I call him) is too busy to host so they will be using some stupid guy that hosts the weekend edition of Extra. I googled him and can’t even come up with a photo to scrutinize. Oh Andy, I guess I’ll just have to be happy seeing you on CNN…

Certificate Wanted

My session with the personal trainer was rescheduled to this morning. As much as I joke about being scared to work out, I had to bite the bullet and actually go first thing this morning. The torturer trainer put me through a series of push ups and sit ups to test my endurance, that brought back horrible memories of my elementary days when I dreaded the ominous President’s Physical Fitness Test. Nothing struck fear in me as much as those four horrible words. I hated the test because I could never pass it, due to the lack of strength in my scrawny arms as I attempted the pull ups. The laps around the track never went much better either as I wheezed my way along until I would suffer the inevitable side stitch that would end my chances for the coveted prize– a laminated certificate signed by Ronald Regan, himself. No, I would never have descrived myself as athletic or even active. But times they are a changin’ and I may be able to do a pull up soon. I wonder how many I need to do to get a certificate signed by Dubya?

Must see

I’ve been on a tangent watching documentaries instantly on Netflix. Today I saw Jupiter’s Wife and was mesmerized by Maggie, a homeless person in Central Park who claims to be the daughter of actor Robert Ryan and the wife of the Roman god Jupiter. Her story slowly unfolds in this touching tale of one woman’s personal heartbreak and the lengths she will go to protect herself from remembering what brought her to this place.

Definitely better safe than sorry

Remember when I wrote about the roof at the gym caving in and someone up above not wanting me to work out? Well, this week I joined a new health club and they offered me a free session with a personal trainer to get me oriented with the facilities and also to help me start a new workout program. The appointment was scheduled for yesterday at 10:15. I got to the club about 5 minutes early and noticed everyone was running for the stairs. A lady at the front desk told me that there was a  tornado heading for our city and to evacuate to the downstairs hallway! Long story short, the tornado touched down in four other small towns close by and avoided us, but my session with the trainer was cancelled. O.k., are you going to argue with the fact that I definitely should not be working out? Who am I to argue with the cosmos?

Who loves this show?

from www.comedycentral.co posted with vodpod

Father’s Day Gift Idea– Not!

I was just lurking on Dooce’s blog and saw that she has now published a book entitled Things I learned About My Dad (in therapy).  Just in time for Fathers Day! My first thought was “What? $40,000 a month in ad revenue isn’t enough for you? You need a bestselling book, too?” Jealous much? And not only has she given us this , she’s even offering to autograph the book for us as long as we send her the money for return shipping. Yeah, I’m sure that’s at the top of my Dad’s wish list. Wait, I think I can hear my Dad now… “please get me that book by the skinny, blonde chick who writes that blog and Oh wait a minute– WHAT’S A BLOG?!!!”

Strange days…

I made a deposit yesterday at the bank that’s in the grocery store. Normally I’m in my car and just drive through and avoid all contact with the tellers, but yesterday I had to pick up some food anyway, so I walked up to the bank counter and handed the tall, male bank employee my measly deposit. As he confirmed my accounting on his giant, electronic calculator, two other female employees stood to his side and discussed one of the ladies’ pregnancy. I wasn’t even listening and was jolted out of my own thoughts (which sounded something like… let’s see, should I get the lean ground turkey or the lean ground beef?) when the lady who wasn’t pregnant said to me, “Do you have a little one?” I had to think a moment how to answer, and replied, “well, I have a ten year old.” She then said, “Did she come out okay, or was she breech?” I glanced toward the towering man who was now handing back my deposit receipt and answered, “she came out……normally.” As I turned to walk away, I felt like all attention was on my va jay jay. The inquisitive lady yelled goodbye saying, “Have a GREAT day!”

Is it just me, or is that strange conversation to make in a financial environment? It’s not like I was shopping at Pottery Barn Kids. Should a bank employee really have enough free time to inquire about customer’s birth plans? Is this happening to other people out there, or was it just my facial similarity to Ricki Lake that caused her to feel so at ease questioning me on childbirth? Come on people… what’s the strangest thing a stranger has ever said to you?