Killer Aerobics

So I heard this morning while at the gym that a gunman outside of Pittsburgh had rampaged an LA Fitness aerobics class, killing four women and injuring others. What is wrong with this country?

Are we safe no where? How many shooting rampages do we have to read about on a weekly basis until we say enough is enough? Time for another Million Mom March I suspect.

It is bad enough that it takes a lot of motivation to get thee to a gym to stay fit and healthy. You shouldn't have to risk your life to get healthy. I think some of these gyms will rethink some gym class titles such as Killer Core, etc.

Seriously, it will be a lot easier to make it a lot harder for these looneytunes to buy guns than it will be to build virtual prisons everywhere we go-the gym, our schools, our work, is Wal-mart next? Actually, that one would be super difficult considering they sell guns...

I am tired of hearing how the NRA is such a strong lobby and how the Constitution provides the right to bare arms. Well, we should all have the right to bare arms at the gym and work out safely. Without the fear of a crazed gunman coming into mow us down...

Car-Toon

I've been meaning to call "Click" and "Clack" from "Car Talk" on NPR for a while now. You see, "my" 2005 Honda Pilot mysteriously won't start every once in a while. Yes, it has been to the Honda dealer-numerous times. Each time they either say there is nothing wrong with it that they can find, or they decide to order expensive and distant parts such as a new relay system, or in another visit, a new VTM-Lock thingy. Well, I am pretty sure that was the technical term.

Whether we use technical terms or not, the bottom line is, the car is NOT reliable. Not only does it not start, but on two occasions, it stalled out on my while driving along. For anyone who has experienced this, including the accompanying obscene hand gestures and glares from motorists who are forced to go around the dead car with me in it, you can relate.

It got so bad that the last time it went into "the shop" (now I think I know why they call it that, while you are awaiting to reclaim your clunker for the umpteenth time, you start thinking of buying one of the shiny new working cars on the floor so you don't have to spend as much time in the dealership), I told my husband that either we got me a different car, or else I took the other car for all time and "the next time it breaks down, we sell it, no argument."

So, wouldn't you know, yesterday, after playing tennis at a public park which was 1.5 miles away (sure, Mapquest says 1.37, but that is in the middle of the park and the tennis courts are of course, farther) we got into the steamy vehicle only to have it not start. We waited. I tried again, it didn't start. Hubby has a theory that the key immobilizer has something to do with it not starting, so, in desperation, I tried locking and unlocking it. A few times. No dice. Finally I called him and asked him what he proposed I do. I could call AAA to tow it, but to where? The last four or five times it was towed to the dealer, didn't seem to do much for its record of reliability. So, we had words, and I told him that I (ok, "we", Thing 2 had a friend over) were just going to walk back home-uphill most of the way...

Sure enough, later that night, I dropped Hubby off to "deal with the car." Wouldn't you know it started right up? Undeterred, I stood my ground and said I had pint-sized witnesses. Hubby blamed my paranoid habit of locking the car doors, for why the car hadn't started earlier. I countered that in fact, it was the one time I hadn't locked the car because it was literally in front of the court we were playing on. Rather than get in it with him, I agreed to drive the unreliable car home so he could get gas in his car, and I told him that if the car died on the way home I would be serving him with divorce papers. Luckily for him and me, I made it home and have the other car in my possession now. I won't be lulled into the fact that the car seems to be working fine for a month or two to make me take it back. I am sticking to my "guns."

How many of you think that Hubby should give in and get rid of this clunker like I do? Never mind my calling "Click" and "Clack" because I won't even trust what they say either now.

Iphoney

Like a gazillion other folks, I just purchased the new Iphone 3GS. It is my first experience in the world of Iphone. I have to say, so far, I am pretty 'appy.'

That's right. My Iphone finally arrived on Monday morning. It was actually really easy to set up-even I could do it without assistance from Tech support (i.e., The Hubby, who, I think was disappointed to be so dispensible-he kept claiming I shouldn't get the Iphone since he doesn't have one and therefore doesn't know how it works and thus, couldn't help with my inevitable 52 million questions). So far, I have downloaded 12 additional apps. All but two of them were free and the two I paid for were ninety nine cents each. The first one is called Newspapers and allows me access to the top 50 newspapers in the world, constantly updated, all for a onetime fee of ninety nine cents. No wonder all those newspapers are going out of business. I told Hubby I was going to download it, though it cost ninety nine cents. He said "why don't you think about it overnight and decide in the morning?" I said, too late I already downloaded it!" I almost instantaneously started chuckling at all of the Brit Wit I had missed reading from The Guardian's Life & Style page (we lived in The UK for three years).

Today, after reading the New York Times Personal Technology section (yes out of the actual paper I subscribe to, though I now see why the temptation to cancel it abounds...) I read about Grocery IQ which helps you manage and customize a shopping list, including ordering it to reflect the order of products in your local store (as if I only shop at one store for all things, ha!). Of course, I immediately decided I needed to invest the ninety nine cents to get that app. Don't worry, I decided to sleep on the Cardsmart app (or some similar name) that allows you to scan pictures of your store discount cards and then scan your iphone at the store, avoiding carrying a million store discount cards. The sad truth is that I am used to carrying them around on my keychain now, and based on my ability to somehow have a cellphone that dies because I didn't think to charge it, with my luck, my Iphone would die before I got to the register and then no card, no discount...

I even found a free app that supposedly makes a sound that mosquitos don't like but we can't hear. I don't know if it will work, but hey it is free, might as well try it. I will have to remember to make sure that my phone is fully charged. I wouldn't want it to die, leaving me to be a mosquito buffet due to poor planning on my part. That is, if I ever dine out side this summer. So far, the chances have been few and far between. Cold and rainy appears to be here to stay, oh well, I will stay in and play-with my Iphone.

Pudgecicle

It is June. I am fat and yet, cold. I am a pudgecicle. There, I have admitted it. Now what to do about that?
Well, admitting it was a big deal for me. For a long while, Denial was just a river in Egypt (da Nile). But after having several buttons and clasps pop off, I figured out I had to stop popping so much into my mouth.

So, what to do? Less. Less eating and more distractions. Time for the weapons of mass distraction. Social media, really good reads, instead of books I am reading out of a sense of obligation to get to the end and say I've read them. Oh, and of course, massages, facials and pedicures-other ways to treat myself that don't involve calories. All these within reason and an eye towards the shrinking wallet and recession.

There is that word again, recession. It seems for me that the recession has been one long sugar craving. Let's hope it stops soon. Let's also hope it warms up sometime this summer. I am tired of being a pudgecicle.

Remember When A Text Was A Mere Noun?

I enjoyed a fabulous Reunion weekend at Trinity. It was great to meet up with old friends and talk to those who we went to school with but hadn't seen in many years. Many things have changed in twenty years.

Most of us were shocked at how nice the dorms are now after a major renovation. The dorm bathroom is actually nicer than our family bathroom (which admittedly, does not say much for my family bathroom, but that is the topic of a future blog). We also heard things that were frankly unimaginable for us. Apparently, now the students are texted from the dryers in the basement when their clothes are done! As far as my class is concerned, a text was an academic book and uttering the word would not illicit much excitement. If anything, it was the opposite. Now of course, it can be very exciting to get a text.

As for dining, we had the obligatory rubber chicken at Saturday night's dinner and I noticed much later that groups of classmates were walking around with pizza boxes from Campus Pizza. I am guessing the alumni and college could have saved a lot of trouble and expense and just ordered Campus Pizza for dinner. It would have been the perfect way to reminisce.

Sunday's brunch was a different story altogether. The food was fabulous and held at Miss Porter's School-one of my classmates is married to the Head of School there. It was nice to get together in a different setting and for those who hadn't ventured to Farmington in their college years, it is a lovely spot.

When we graduated and departed Trinity all those years ago, we promised to write and call each other. Now, we promise to use that new verb "friending" to keep in touch on Facebook. Some of us can event tweet each other. It does make you wonder what wacky words we will be using in five years' time which will signify newer, even faster ways to communicate. I am just catching up on the tweeting and friending, it is hard keeping up in this new technommunity, but I will try my best.

Twentieth Reunion

I know it is hard to imagine from my youthful looking picture, taken a mere two and a half years ago, but I am going to my twentieth college reunion this weekend. In some ways, I can't imagine that 20 years have transpired since my college years. In others, though, that seems like a lifetime ago.

If someone asked me then what I would be doing twenty years from now, I am not sure how I would have replied. If someone asked me how I would feel twenty years from now, I probably would have said something very clever like, "accomplished."

How do I really feel? Mostly great. I am healthy, happily married and have two great kids (at least when they aren't screaming at each other) and one great dog (except when she digs). What of aging? Well, if you told me that I would wander from one room to another in my home and wonder aloud "now why did I come in here?," you would have been met with a laugh and a question of "twenty years from now? I will only be 42!" I guess the laugh is on me.

If you asked me if I would be bothered by wrinkles, age spots, aches, pains and a sluggish metabolism, I would have said no (again thinking these would not yet set in except for maybe the wrinkles). The reality is, I don't like the wrinkles, and the parenthesis that have come to bookend my mouth, the tightness in my left hip, etc.

But age has also brought me wisdom. I am lucky to still be here, healthy and happy twenty years later. Wrinkles and minor aches are the tolls for the journey I have taken. I have seen others not so lucky, including a handful of classmates who are no longer with us. So, I say bring on the wrinkles, it beats the alternative and gives me something to whine about as well.

I Have To Get This Off My Chest

Yesterday I went to an MD for a follow up breast exam. No big deal right? Apparently no big deal medically. But I was nevertheless told that I should come back every six months to be examined (undoubtedly at a higher specialist rate) and should come back in 2 weeks for genetic counseling for being high risk for breast cancer and consider expensive gene testing that would not be covered by insurance. Huh?

The more I think about it, the more I think that all this practice wants to do is maximize the amount of money they can make off of me. My feelings of dis-ease with this practice began right when I was shown to the examining room. While the nurse who checked me in meant no offense, I was nontheless offended by her comment that "if I had to pick a kind of cancer to get, it would be a breast cancer." She espoused about how it was a really treatable disease and people are surviving it, though she quickly added, "not that I am saying it is a walk in the park."

One would think that an individual in the field of breast care would be better informed of the actual statistics surrounding breast cancer. Newsflash: women are still dying of breast cancer. Beyond that, after watching my sister suffer through diagnosis, waiting, waiting, waiting, surgery and a long and grueling treatment, I would never say that I would "pick" breast cancer.

I would like to think that this is an isolated incident, but I fear that breast cancer and the fear/risk of breast cancer is a very lucrative business. While I will go for mammograms and breast MRIs as dictated by my risk factors, I will not be returning to this practice. Sure, this has to do with my breasts, but I am going with my gut on this.