Things I learned this week


This week I learned…

…that Beginning Yoga for a grade is really a combination of intermediate Yoga and Pilates for a grade.  This is something that I feel is grossly misrepresented in the course description.  The instructor, a tiny woman with Madonna arms and the flexibility of a Circus du Soleil performer, is surely the spawn of the devil.    She is an unsympathetic, anti-whining, whip cracker who doesn’t understand why we all showed up to the second class limping and chugging bottles of over-the-counter anti-inflammatory medicines.   I am happy to say that I did make it through the week without disgracing myself.   I managed to perform every single pose she threw my way.  They might not have been pretty, but I did them.  Of course, I can still barely walk.  Hopefully, my body will forgive me by Monday when I have to start it all over again.

…that I don’t like change.  Yes, I know this is no revelation, but sometimes I forget how uncompromising I can be.  Lately, I’ve had an issue with getting through the books stacked on my bedside table.  After a four-month struggle to finish one novel, I finally resorted to an audiobook.  I’ve always sorta looked down my nose at audiobooks, like they were a means of cheating.  Of course, now that it benefits me, I have had a complete change of heart.  I’m fickle like that.  What can I say, I’m a Gemini.   In the last week, I’ve finished two novels.  Both Gabriel Allon spy novels by Daniel Silva, and both read by the same man, John Lee.   I have come to associate his warm, accented voice with these characters that I love so much.   This morning, I popped my little flash drive in the handy-dandy USB port in my car, and settled in as the opening chapter of Prince of Fire began to play.  What is this?  No John Lee? Where’s John Lee?  As it turns out, John Lee is not the reader for this next installment of Gabriel Allon’s adventures.  This new reader is terrible and his Ari Shamron interpretation sucks.  I may never recover.

…that sometimes I forget that my daughter is a girl.  I know that sounds strange, but if you knew her, you would know exactly what I mean.  She is a tomboy, through and through.  She doesn’t wear frills or ruffles or anything with a skirt.  No pink or purple.  No glitz or glitter.  She wears dark jeans with a flared leg, graphic tees, sneakers, and a hoodie – right now she is in love with her lime green Invader Zim hoodie that comes complete with ears.  She will only wear her thick blonde hair in a severe, slicked back ponytail.  No earrings or bracelets, though she does like necklaces – of course, those must meet a certain criteria and cannot be overtly feminine.  These are the rules.  Any deviation from such will result in a big sigh and an eye roll.  So it is not unreasonable for me to sometimes forget that she is, indeed, a girl.  Today is a big day for her.  She plays the clarinet in the sixth grade band and they are doing a performance tour of our local elementary schools.  This morning she dressed with extra care, made sure she didn’t have a hair out-of-place and then, as she studied herself critically in the mirror, announced, “I’m as pale as a vampire, Mom.  I need to use some of your powder and blush.”  Um…okay.  Excuse me while I pick my jaw up off of the bathroom floor.

…that Roger Federer allowed himself to be ousted from yet another major by Rafael Nadal.   This time the Australian Open.  I hope Novak Djokovic kicks Nadal’s ass in the final, and if he does, I am swearing off my allegiance to Federer for good.

…that after my little temper tantrum last week, I find that I am feeling better about my writing, though I still don’t want to talk about the Retribution implosion.  This week I have started work on a short story and have fallen in love with a very flawed old man with a penchant for old books and aged scotch.  His past is peppered with unimaginable pain and the horrors of a war.  I hope to find him a measure of redemption, but it’s too soon to tell if he will know absolution or fall victim to his crushing guilt.

…that my hockey player problem has resolved itself. I am happy to report that half of them have dropped and the other half have decided that the young blonde two tables over is more their speed.  I am grateful.  I can hear the professor again.  Now, if only the girl with the weird bouffant hairdo that sits in front of me would move so that I can see all of the projection screen…

…that I don’t have a pet peeve of the week!  OMG.

…that last but not least, this week’s awww moment is brought to you by this adorable little baby otter named Cayucos.

Source:  http://www.timesunion.com/news/article/Chicago-s-Shedd-Aquarium-rescues-baby-sea-otter-2727899.php

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Author: Peggy Isaacs

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