More Than Words

Two days ago, I woke up with that bubble-in-my-throat feeling that made me think I might be coming down with something. Yesterday, I again woke up with it, and it stayed.

Today, I woke up feeling mostly alright, but curiously, I have absolutely no voice. And I mean no voice at all. If I drink a glass of water, I can get a couple of words out, but I sound like one of Marge Simpson's sisters.

This rarely happens to me. I can think of only one other time it has when my voice has gone away for longer than the few minutes after I get out of bed. In a way, it's kind of nice to be alone and quiet with me. But on the other hand, it makes it a little hard when I actually have to communicate. I seem to be able to squeak out only a few letters here and there. Stella has been looking at me funny all morning long, probably because she's been hearing me say things like, ".... .... .... g.... f..... g... d...." And even I don't know what that means.

Go, You Chicken Fat, Go!

Last night during my workout session, my personal trainer, Megan, told me she plans to flee the country in June to backpack through Europe for awhile. She said she figures now is a good time to do it, since she's young and has nothing tying her down.

I'm totally excited for her, and I think it's a great thing. But who is going to get me all buff and fit now? I guess I can work with someone else, but I really like Megan, and I'm seeing results under her tutelage. I don't want her to leave!

I told her she is not allowed to go anywhere until I reach my fitness goals. She then made me do the hardest workout she's ever made me do, sending me home with jelly for legs.

I guess she's really serious about this whole Europe thing.

Stuck On You

Stella has been having a rough time of it lately.

A few months ago, we began to transition her from puppy food to adult food, and for some reason (an allergy or something), the new food didn't agree with her little digestive system. I won't go into details, but suffice it to say the results were fairly explosive. After a couple of vet visits, a few rounds of "just in case" parasite-ridding medication and a prescribed food that would get things back in order, we tried again with a different brand. This time, things went a little better, but still, the new food did not agree with our girl.

Finally, a month or so ago, someone told my husband about a great food with no fillers or artificial anything and suggested we try it for the next go-round. He picked up a bag, we made the transition, and magically, things seemed to fall into place. Our little girl had finally found a grown-up food she could handle.

Our elation lasted about a week, and then we were back to the, um, explosions. And they were worse than ever. We put her on a bland diet for a couple of days, but I really didn't think the food was the problem this time. After all, she had been eating it with good results for awhile; with the other foods, the change was pretty immediate. Last night, we took her to the vet, and we found out I was right; it wasn't the food at all. My little girl had brought home a pet without permission. Giardia.

For those who don't know, Giardia are one-celled parasites that live in the small intestines of dogs and cats. Animals usually pick them up from drinking infected standing water (or, pleasantly, eating the poo of another infected animal). I've been reading up on the little buggers, and it seems that they can live outside the body for quite some time, so it is recommended that owners wash any bedding and whatnot that pets have come in contact with, disinfect everything, etc., to make sure they're all gone from the home.

And the most exciting news is that humans can get them too. We're not planning on eating any poo, of course, but you can't be too careful. So tonight, my husband and I are going to clean our home from top to bottom with as much disinfectant as we can, just in case.

Now I know how parents feel when their kids come home with a head full of lice. Gross.

Things I've Seen People Do In Movies And On TV And Would Like To Try Doing Sometime

1. Talk on the phone as if I'm talking to someone other than who I am actually talking to so that someone standing in the same room I'm in doesn't realize who I'm really talking to.

Hello?
Erika, it's me, your husband.
Yes, hello. I'm glad you called.
I know you must have been worried that the kidnappers killed me.
Yes, yes, I was curious about that. But I would like to change my order from the kung pao chicken to the moo shu pork.
Are the kidnappers there with you now?
They are. And please, don't forget the egg rolls this time.

2. Have a shopping montage and come home with bags and bags of new clothes.

3. Have an argument while talking on my flip phone and slam it shut to hang up on the person.

4. Do a spontaneous yet perfectly choreographed dance in the street with a bunch of strangers.

5. Throw a drink in someone's face.

6. Have a madcap day/night in the big city.

7. Go to a wedding where someone objects or runs.

8. Solve a big mystery, even though I have absolutely no investigative capabilities or intuition about that sort of thing.

9. Walk into a grocery store only to find out I am the millionth customer when sirens go off and balloons drop on me.

10. As part of a spa day, get a facial mask and cucumber slices over my eyes, and eat the cucumber slices.

Expressions I Don't Like

"Staycation" -- Yes, yes, the economy is in the crapper, no one has money to travel, so we're enjoying the pleasures of home, and that's great. But the term "staycation" was only cute the first time.

"On the cheap" -- I don't even have anything to say about this; I just don't like it. I don't think it makes much sense, and anyway, wouldn't it just be easier to say "cheaply?"

"Pain at the pump" -- Another economy-inspired phrase, this one was also clever the first time and never since.

"Le sigh" -- According to urbandictionary.com, this came from Pepe Le Pew. Do we really want to be saying something a cartoon skunk first said?

And a bonus -- I don't mind so much when people say, "it is what it is," but I do mind when people complain about people saying "it is what it is."

United They Stand...For A Minute Or Two (Or, Waxing Politic)

I heard on the radio today that presidential candidates John McCain and Barack Obama plan to set aside their differences and visit Ground Zero together to observe the anniversary of the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks. The two also plan to pull their attack ads on each other, just for today, in a sort of temporary cease-fire.

We often hear that the aftermath of the 2001 attacks showed the best of this country. There were stories of daring rescues, dedicated volunteers rushing to the aid of survivors and donations of all kinds from across the country. People set aside their political arguments and united with their countrymen, against a common enemy.

I guess McCain and Obama are trying to rejuvenate in all of us that proud American feeling by doing this today, but to me, it isn't touching or heartwarming. It is one day of doing what they should be doing every day. I'm not saying they should begin each morning with a hug and a declaration of "I treasure your friendship," or even that they have to pretend to like each other or agree on anything. They are competitors; let them compete.

But instead of playing nice just for one 24 hour period, I believe it would make a far better statement to stand together today and announce they plan to pull the attack ads permanently and continue the election process in a dignified way. One day of unity is not unity. It is a publicity stunt.

I've wondered lately whether the poor voter turnout that is always being reported is really apathy, or simply a boycott. I, for one, am torn about November's election. Neither candidate is wowing me at this point. And while they saying goes, "if you don't vote in an election, you can't complain about the results," I don't know if choosing randomly, so long as you're choosing something, is a great way to go about picking the leader of a country.

I plan to keep an eye on both candidates for the next few months and hope one ends up standing out to me as the person I would like running my country. In the meantime, though, I plan to spend tonight sitting in front of the TV. A night without attack ads seems like freedom to me.

Too Fat Polka

Last night, I had an appointment with my trainer at the gym. It's been about a month since I had my first session, so I wanted to check my body fat to see if it had gone down at all. As luck would have it, some semi-beefy dude sitting at a table in the front asked me, as I walked in, if I wanted to measure my body fat. He seemed shocked when I told him, "yes, that was actually on my list of things to do today." He thought I was joking, and I think it threw him off a little. Later, when I did make a joke, he thought I was serious.

As it turned out, my body fat has gone down 1.5 percentage points since last month. My trainer and the head of training both said that's great, but Semi-Beefy Dude didn't seem to think so. He said next month I should try for another three percentage points, which the head of training told me -- right in front of Semi-Beefy -- is way too much. (The two also had differing opinions of ideal body fat. Semi-Beefy said 14-18 percent, the other guy said 18-21 percent. I've looked at a few charts, and it looks like Semi-Beefy is trying to get me into the "athletic" category, while the other guy wants me in the "fit" category. Or, Semi-Beefy thinks I am a man, since 14-18 percent is in the "fit" category for a man.)

S-B also told me that if I want to see better results, I ought to eat more protein. I'm not sure exactly what moved him to make that determination. He asked me, "how is your diet," and I told him, "it's pretty good but not great." Somehow, from that, he gleaned that I was not eating enough protein.

The thing is, he is probably right; I don't eat enough protein. And I'll bet that's pretty common, so maybe it's a natural assumption. But to look at the change in my body fat and immediately say "you need more protein" seemed a little strange. (He worked for the gym; he wasn't a protein powder salesman or anything.) I would have thought a more reasonable conclusion would be "you need less fat" or "you need to do harder workouts" or a half dozen other things besides, if he really thought my body fat loss wasn't enough. (That's when the joke came in. He said most people eat too many carbs, cereal for breakfast, sandwich for lunch, pasta for dinner, when we really should try to eat more chicken. I told him I often eat chicken for breakfast, and he didn't realize I was joking about that. He thought "yes, I'd like my body fat taken" was a joke, but "chicken for breakfast" sounded totally normal. Fitness makes people weird.)

As he lectured me on the benefits of protein, he was talking pretty fast, like he was giving a rehearsed speech. A lot of people at the gym talk like that, so I didn't take it personally. But it did annoy me, because in telling me what he thinks I need to do to get fit, he made me late for my training appointment.

When I was leaving the gym (after a really tough ab workout), a guy who looked like a tan version of Vin Diesel held the door for me and asked me how my workout had gone. I told him it was great and very challenging, and that I expected to see a flat stomach and six pack when I got home and looked in the mirror. (He also didn't realize I was joking. Maybe I need to work on my delivery. I realize these weren't hilarious jokes, but come on, even a polite smile would have been nice.) He proceeded to ask me how often I work out and tell me how often I should work out to get the results I want. (He did not, however, ask me what results I want.) I don't think the guy even worked at the gym; I don't remember seeing him there before. But maybe I looked like I needed the help.

Note to self: Do not wear "Please Give Me Unsolicited Advice" t-shirt to the gym anymore. And probably also do not wear long Nike running pants, as they apparently make me look fat, protein-deficient and possibly like a man.

Come On Along And Work Out To The Lullaby Of Broadway

I'm really trying to give this fitness thing a go. But after only three weeks, I'm kind of running out of things to do at the gym.

I like the weight training, but for now, I really need my trainer beside me, telling me which machines to use in what order. And I love cycling and swimming, but I don't want to do the same things over and over, lest I get bored with them, or my body get used to them, rendering them unaffective. (The trainers at the gym are really big on mixing it up -- I was told not to do the same workout more than once within three weeks.) I need to try some new things, mix it up a little bit.

In that spirit, last night, I took a sampler class which was comprised of small bits of basic step, kickboxing and Latin dance. I'd done a little of the step and the kickboxing before, but the Latin dance was new to me. And I really liked the small bit we did. Of the three, it was the dance that was my favorite.

I like doing the kind of exercise that makes me forget I'm exercising. For many people, that means playing a sport. But since I am not at all athletic, sports have no allure for me and usually don't give me that great a workout -- why bother trying to chase around a ball I know I have no chance of hitting? (That said, I did sign up for a raquetball clinic. I don't know what I was thinking.) I'm not that graceful either, but with dance, you're not really competing with anyone, and I can follow basic instructions, so even if I look stupid, I can still have fun and get a good workout.

The instructor who ran last night's session said there will be a Latin class starting up next week, but it's kind of early in the evening, so I'm not sure I'd be able to make it in time after work. Still, I'd like to try, because it seems to be the only dance-y class offered there. Plus I think with the music, it would be fun and different. I'm tired of working out to crappy Top 40 hits remixed with a fast beat.

On the way home, I got to thinking what kind of exercise class I'd really like to attend. Since I really enjoy the dance-y stuff (so long as it's not too complicated -- I remember stumbling all over myself trying to do the Paula Abdul dance workout tape in high school), I was thinking a good one would be a workout to Broadway tunes.

Richard Simmons and a few others have put out workout tapes with Broadway music, but from what I can see, the songs are all really old. I can't really blame them for that -- the Broadway shows everyone knew during the workout tape heyday of the 80s and early 90s hardly provided good exercise songs. I can't imagine myself sweating to any of the songs from Les Miserables or anything from Andrew Lloyd Webber. (Can't you just see a room of people trying to do leg lifts to "Do You Hear The People Sing"?)

But I think that the shows that are popular on Broadway and on tour these days would provide some great workout tunes. I could see myself enjoying an exercise routine set to Urinetown's "Run Freedom Run," Hairspray's "Welcome to the 60s" or even the "Fisch Schlapping Song" from Spamalot. And I can only imagine the calorie-burning choreography that could be used for Avenue Q's "You Can Be As Loud As The Hell You Want (When You're Makin' Love).

So how about it?

Clowns To The Left Of Me, Jokers To The Right

Taking advantage of my Labor Day off, I took lunch to my husband (who, unfortunately, had to work) and then headed to Hobby Lobby to pick up some supplies for a few projects. I was waiting for an employee to cut some material for me when two women came up and interrupted.

"Excuse me," they said. The employee said nothing; she didn't even look up. I thought that was kind of rude, but it was none of my business, so I just waited while she kept cutting. They tried to get her attention again, and I could tell by her face she was purposely ignoring them (she had that same look most people have when they pass a panhandler on the street -- eyes down, pretending not to hear). After a few more attempts by the customers, she told them tersely, "just a minute." One of the women started to ask a question, and the employee told them again, "just a minute," and the customers upped the rude ante by telling her, "'I'll be with you in a moment.' That's what you're supposed to say." The employee and the customers argued for another minute, with the customers ultimately walking away, saying, "you serve the public, honey."

I thought that was the end of it, but as the employee finished cutting and folding my material, she started muttering, "I hate this job, I hate this job." Despite my best efforts to put on the same panhandler face she'd been wearing a minute before, the employee decided to tell me that she's worked at Hobby Lobby for seven and a half years and hates the job, then explain that she was busy helping me and didn't like customers interrupting to ask her a question. Then she told me that she plans to put in her two weeks notice. I'm not sure whether she was planning this before or if she had just decided. I thought it best not to ask, lest I get myself into an actual conversation. I felt it better just to nod and get the hell out of there.

I'm not sure who to side with here, because the customers were pretty rude, but she was rude first, and I really don't think it's good form to tell a customer "I hate my job." Plus, I really don't think counting to one yard and and cutting in a straight line could be all that difficult that she wouldn't be able to at least look up to acknowledge another customer who has a question. Then again, I wouldn't want to acknowledge any customer who tells me what my job is. I like to see customers standing up for themselves, but I have never so much as raised my voice in a store, and I've certainly never resorted to "you serve the public, honey." So I guess I will side with myself, the innocent bystander, who not only had to listen to the altercation but then had to listen to the employee ranting about the altercation.

I listened to her for as long as I could stand while still being polite, and, as soon as she broke for a breath, I said, "I hope your day gets better" and high-tailed it away from her.

Happy Labor Day to all.