Radiance! (July Favorites.)

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I’ve found that pictures and links speak quite effectively on their own when I present my list of favorite “little things” from the previous month, so that’s what I bring to you on this first day of August: a quick and dirty list of favorites for July with little in the way of text. As always, take my favs as recommendations if you’re so inclined, and with the idea that what works for me may not work for you, whether it’s entertainment, food, or products.

Enjoy, and Happy Friday Eve!

 

1). The Art of Self-Defense (film)

 

 

When your bad day at work becomes a bad night after work, and the realization that your whole life follows this script prompts you to take action.

 

2). Midsommar (film)

 

 

When your relationship is fragile and your co-dependency leads you to take a summer trip overseas. (Take note: horror)

 

3). The Lion King (film)

 

 

When you’re a talking animal whose life plays out like a Shakespearean tragedy, except not everyone dies at the end. (Take note: not a cartoon)

 

4). La Casa De Papel Part 3 (Money Heist S3) (Netflix series)

 

 

When the capture of a beloved family member gives you an excuse to ride your dormant adrenaline waves, and those waves turn into a tsunami.

 

5). Fleabag (Amazon Prime Original series)

 

 

When you’re a sex addict struggling with grief. (Take note: this comedy series is outstanding and hilarious, but it’s NOT “family-friendly.”)

 

6). Eating Evolved Primal Chocolate Signature Dark (72% Cacao). (Organic, vegan, paleo, and soy-free.)

 

Eating Evolved Primal Chocolate Signature Dark

 

A taste of dark chocolate was in order, so I thought I’d go for something new. It’d been so long since I’ve had chocolate that there was a lot of “new” to explore! I ventured to try this dark chocolate bar because it’s sweetened with organic coconut sugar, and sugar was a concern. I’d say that this is the least bitter and crumbly of the 72% + dark chocolate bars I’ve tried in my life. I highly recommend it if you’re wanting a healthier dark chocolate that’s creamy and not overly bitter.

 

7). e.l.f. Jelly Pop Face & Eye Gloss in Icy Pop. (Vegan and cruelty-free.)

 

e.l.f. Jelly Pop Face and Eye Gloss in Icy Pop

 

When e.l.f. cosmetics offered free shipping for a period of time in July, I felt I should order something in addition to the lip product I wanted to try. I looked at their newly released products, and this face and eye gloss caught my attention. I’m actually surprised by how much I like it and its glowing effect! On days I don’t wear make-up, I take just a dab the size of a pinhead and tap it lightly onto my cheekbones and eyelids. I don’t wear it to the gym, so I can’t say how well it’d hold up through a work-out, but it lasts all day when I’m just home or out and about running errands.

 

8). e.l.f. Radiant Gel Lip Stain in Dewy Nude. (Vegan and cruelty-free.)

 

e.l.f. Radiant Gel Lip Stain in Dewy Nude

 

This is the e.l.f. lip product I wanted to try, and I’m happy to say that it works for me. It’s a simple lip stain that does what I want it to do: it adds just a hint of lip color, it wears well, and it doesn’t make my lips feel dry. I put my regular lip balm over it, and I can’t even tell that I’m wearing a lip stain.

 

9). Pacifica Mineral SPF 50 Body Butter Pineapple Flower. (Vegan and cruelty-free.)

 

Pacifica Mineral SPF 50 Body Butter Pineapple Flower

 

I’m always on the look-out for a body lotion with a strong SPF that doesn’t feel and/or smell unpleasant. This one by Pacifica is a game-changer!

 

10). Schmidt’s Bergamot + Lime Natural Deodorant. (Vegan and cruelty-free.)

 

Schmidt’s Bergamot and Lime Natural Deodorant

 

I’ve also found it challenging to find effective vegan and cruelty-free deodorants. For me, Schmidt’s deodorant works better than standard ones. It doesn’t behave or feel like regular aluminum deodorants in how it applies, though; it took some getting used to. I press it firmly into my armpit and hold it for a good ten-Mississippi count, and then it’s soft enough to apply. Other qualities that may be down-sides: it’s a little grainy in texture, and it’s white (not invisible), so it will leave marks on your dark clothes if you’re not careful. But it really works! That’s a big enough up-side for me.

And that’s it for July!

(La Fin)

 

 

PSA, Part 2: No pain? Lots of blood? Go to the E.R. (Learn from me!)

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Welcome to this unexpected follow-up to my last post.

I thought I had everything under control after I slammed the steel door on the back of my ankle. It took an hour, but I got the bleeding to stop, right? Only after my late-night shower did I realize that the situation was not under control, and it was beyond my management capabilities. I noticed more blood seeping through the jumbo band-aids (I’d stuck a second one over the first).

Of course it was past 11pm! Isn’t it always when you finally decide to go to the E.R.?

At the E.R., the doctor looked at my ankle and said that I needed stitches, but it was too late; the risk of infection was too high. I should’ve gone in for treatment within six hours of the accident. “I’ve been here all day,” he remarked lightly. He was kind.

He leaned forward in his chair as he pensively studied the wound, elbows resting on his knees, hands folded together, chin propped on his knuckles. Then he shook his head and said, “All I can do at this point is try to close it with steri-strips.”

Callaghan, who was sitting on a stool behind the doctor, later told me that the wound was gaping open and jagged around the edges. I’d had no idea. I’d thought I was dealing with a clean cut. The diagnosis on my paperwork says LACERATION, OLD – NOT SUTURED. It then explains that the wound is deep and required stitches, but “in your case, too much time has passed before coming for treatment. That is why your wound was not sutured.”

Can you hang your head in shame and roll your eyes at yourself at the same time? Yes. Yes, you can.

The doctor cleaned out the wound and applied the steri-strips (sticker sutures) to hold the separated tissue together. I felt pressure and pulling, but still no pain. It turned out that my nerves were damaged, so they couldn’t send pain signals to my brain.

This brings me to today’s important Public Service Announcement: if you’re bleeding persistently from an open wound, go to the E.R. right away, even if you’re not feeling pain.

I had it the wrong way around. I didn’t think it was that serious because I felt no pain. It didn’t help that I couldn’t really see the back of my ankle when my foot was up in the basin, but that’s neither here nor there. There was bleeding… it wasn’t stopping… I should have gone in for treatment, period. Instead, I flew into problem-solving mode and focused on resolving the issue myself. I only partially blame the Army for this.

A nurse wrapped the wound with an Ace bandage, and I went home with a set of crutches.

 

When band-aids aren’t enough.

 

Funny thing, Callaghan didn’t even know about the accident until he read my blog post that night! He found out when you guys did. I forgot to tell him about it when he got home from work.

We were told that it could take up to four weeks for the wound to heal completely, but I can get back to weight-lifting after one week of inactivity. It’ll be at least two weeks before I can do cardio again. The wound will fill in from the bottom and the sides, and it’ll scar, to which I say whatever. It could’ve easily been worse. It was my Achilles tendon’s lucky day!

Anyway, guys, if this happens to you, don’t do what I did. If it takes an hour to stop the bleeding, something is wrong. If it’s still bleeding after even 20 minutes, something is wrong! You’ll need professional treatment, and you should go get it within six hours. I waited more than 12 hours, putting myself at higher risk for infection. My scar will be deeper, and my healing time will be longer.

Also, while I’m at it, do remember to update your tetanus shots every five years. That was one thing that concerned the doctor that I actually got right.

[/PSA]

p.s. I found out how to remove ads from my blog! You’re welcome!

 

PSA: hydrogen peroxide is an accomplice to flesh-eating bacteria.

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We all do dumb things now and again. Sometimes, our idiocy costs us time. Here’s a scenario: you pull a steel door shut behind you too quickly, as in, it slams shut before your foot leaves the threshold, so the sharp edge of the steel bar at the bottom slices the back of your ankle. You think Achilles tendon close call because you know it’s only a superficial cut, but damn.

It doesn’t hurt, but you hurry to the bathroom because you don’t want blood to get on the floor. In the bathroom, you swing your foot up into the basin and wish you were more flexible. The soap dispenser is empty, but luckily, the big refill bottle is in the cabinet below. You keep your foot under the stream of water in the basin while using what little flexibility you have to reach under and around your leg to get to the soap in the cabinet.

Bloody water splashes in the basin as you keep your ankle under the open tap while smashing the world record in fastest soap dispenser re-filling.

After washing the cut with the anti-bacterial soap, you open the medicine cabinet and snatch your hand away from the hydrogen peroxide the moment you reach for it. You’ve remembered an article you read about someone who was murdered by flesh-eating bacteria. In the comments, a guy wrote that you should NEVER use peroxide on an open wound. Hydrogen peroxide “cuts the oxygen supply and the bacteria goes ballistic into your flesh.” You trust that this is sound advice because the guy survived flesh-eating bacteria, himself, and that was the take-away.

Your cut is about an inch long and deep enough to keep bleeding. Gauze would be helpful. There isn’t any. But there are jumbo band-aids and neosporin. It happens that there’s a roll of paper towels at hand, too. You turn off the water and hold a paper towel compress to the cut. Turns out that it’s awkward holding firm, direct pressure on the back of an ankle, because the back of an ankle is basically skin stretched over a taut rope. There’s no real estate to speak of back there. Plus, it’s round.

You lower yourself to the floor without touching down with that foot (pistol squat bonus!) and open a vanity drawer so you can prop up your foot to elevate the cut above your heart, still holding the paper towel compress on the cut. (V-crunch hold bonus!) When you get up, you quickly unwrap a jumbo band-aid, squeeze neosporin onto it, and slap it over the cut, securing it as tightly as possible. But it keeps bleeding. You can see it seeping under the band-aid. More elevation, you think, but get comfortable this time!

You pistol-squat back down to the ground and crab-walk across the hall into your office with your foot in the air (single leg hip bridge + crab walk bonus!), reach up to grab your phone from the corner of your desk, and lie back on the floor with your foot on the desk chair. You watch the July Grand Sumo Tournament Wrap-Up video (Jason’s All-Sumo channel on YouTube) on your phone and get up when it’s over. The video was 23 minutes long. The bleeding seems to have stopped.

Congratulations! You’ve wasted an hour of the morning on shenanigans set into motion by closing a steel security screen door behind you too hastily… but you were SO excited to retrieve your package from Amazon, and you couldn’t wait to get inside to open it! You really needed that replacement phone case. Now you have it. (Bloody basin, jumbo band-aid bonus!)

 

 

You don’t go to frolic: MIDSOMMAR (A review, of sorts. No spoilers.)

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On Sunday, we went to the movies anticipating a good scare, because we thought we were about to see a normal horror flick. But that plan didn’t turn out the way I thought it would. Nothing about Midsommar turned out the way I thought it would. Midsommar is a film that does things to you. Leaving the theater, it was more “what just happened to me?” than “what did I just see?”

There’s horror, and then there’s Midsommar.

Writer/director Ari Aster (Hereditary) and independent film distributor A24 bring us a masterpiece of psychological horror in Midsommar. One needs to be somehow mentally prepared to see it. Don’t look to the trailer for help with this, because the “scary” parts aren’t even in it. Midsommar is disturbing to the extreme. For me, it was an unsettling and inexplicably compelling visceral experience.

A group of four American friends travel to Scandinavia at the invitation of a fellow student at the university. He’s from Sweden, and he’s spoken of a special summer festival held in his small community back home. The festival takes place only once every 90 years! Cultural anthropology doctoral candidates can’t pass it up, can they? Especially considering that they’re still wavering on where to train their focus in their graduate studies. An ancient festival in Sweden, now, that would be different. One of the students has a girlfriend suffering in the aftermath of a tragic event; she tags along, desperate to hang onto her caring yet ambivalent boyfriend.

And so we’re all shepherded to Sweden by our congenial Swedish student friend. He’s happy to take us on this trip to experience the festival… and a trip, it is.

I’m leaving by the wayside any attempt at sounding intellectual in this review, because I’m not an expert reviewer, and it’s difficult to characterize how I felt from the time the Americans reached Sweden. Having made this disclaimer, I can say that once the group arrived at the festival in all its isolated, bucolic splendor, it was just WTF piling on WTF slowly and steadily throughout the rest of the film. Midsommar is a true WTF-fest. By the end of the movie, I felt pinned to my seat beneath the weight of a WTF stone tower, each stone heavier than the last. If I needed the restroom during this movie, I couldn’t feel it. Midsommar is completely immersive, and that is one of its horrifying strengths.

In Midsommar, Ari Aster seeded the horror in the atmosphere of the setting; from there, he grew and cultivated it with methodical precision. Simple acoustic music played by festival hosts takes the shape of a voice that serves as much as a character as the actors. Skillful usage of foreshadowing and symbolism help the film to burrow under the skin. There are no jump-scare cheap thrills in this film.* An early scene in which the group is driven through the Swedish forest to the festival is presented upside-down. This bit of symbolism sets the tone for the rest of the movie as standard horror conventions fly out of that upside-down vehicle’s window.

We are in Sweden in the summer. Our tendency is to think of horror unfolding in the dark, but Midsommar is horror unfolding in a place that never gets dark.

Elsewhere in the horror genre, we might experience the horror of, say, a haunted house. In Midsommar, we experience the horror of nature in a peaceful, Scandinavian countryside.

Midsommar robbed me of some pedantic horror-movie joys: a few things happened that I guessed would happen, but I couldn’t take satisfaction in guessing correctly, because the events played out in ways more twisted than I could have imagined. I was too traumatized to be smug.

That’s the thing about this film. Even if you know what f*cked up thing is about to happen, you can’t believe what you’re seeing as it’s happening. The happening is more horrific than the thing, itself.

Another of Midsommar’s strengths is that it’s horror that could occur in real life. You think, this could happen. Then you dare think, maybe it does.

I’ve spent the past few days recovering from this nightmare film, and yet I’m sitting here recommending it. As disturbing as it is, Midsommar is impressive and beautifully wrought. The writing, direction, and acting are superb. It’s a fine work of indie art, as we’d expect from A24.

When we stopped at the store after the movie, I made my way through the aisles feeling disoriented and panicky. I was jumpy and irritable. You would’ve thought I was in Costco, not Whole Foods! Everything freaked me out: interactions with people in the store. The color white. The flowers for sale. My inability to find an item that I needed. The cashier handing me the receipt.

I saw runes everywhere, in everything. I still do. It’s chilling to the core.

I don’t know whether a film this macabre, graphic, and psychologically disturbing can be an Academy Awards contender, but if it can, Midsommar deserves nominations. The big ones all apply: writing, acting, directing, cinematography, musical score, costumes, editing.

If you’re up for the challenge and thrill of psychological horror, go see Midsommar in the theater! You need the theater to optimize the immersive experience of it. I would recommend that you see it in any case. It’s an excellent film. It’s an experience. As the tag-line says, let the festivities begin.

*****

*Don’t get me wrong – I do enjoy carefully placed cheap-thrill jump scares!

Caveats and other miscellany

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[Post Script to my previous post] I watched a YouTube video of Naomi Campbell getting groceries from Whole Foods, and when she reached into the bulk bins for raisins, cashews, and walnuts, I shouted, “Naomi!! Noooooooo!!!” at the screen. I don’t think her past self heard me. I hope she’s not eating larvae right now. I’ve seen her airplane video, too. She should not be eating from bulk bins.

In today’s news, I just spent the last few hours dealing with wiping my phone, subsequently losing all of my contacts, and trying to recover them by DM-ing people on social media. If you have my number already, please text me so I can get you back onto my Contacts list.

Today, you (selfie-requesters) get a pic of me kicking back in sweats on a couch I’m looking into getting reupholstered, against a wall that’s soon to be painted, under a picture that probably won’t be in that spot the next time you see me here, with shorter hair that isn’t styled the way I would normally wear it, and with no make-up except lipstick.

 

It’s July 14, that’s why.

 

Changes around the house are happening aplenty. I hope to have that updated office tour for you next week! I stumbled upon a treasure from the Goodwill, which got me going on a décor theme for this space.

On that note, I hope you’ve all had a good week. Happy Friday Eve!

 

 

Bulk bins: a cautionary tale.

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I should’ve thrown out the mixed nuts that first time I found peanut skins joined together and dangling from the edge of the mini popcorn cake I was using as a spoon. When I sifted through the contents of the plastic container with another popcorn cake, I pulled up more of the little chains, each one delicate and wispy, as if formed out of spider webs. Some of the chains were comprised of just peanut skins, while others included tiny bits of the nuts. It was a mystery, but I hadn’t gotten sick… so what did I do? I carried on eating the nuts, day after day, choosing to ignore the occasional, invisible strands.

In my defense, I hadn’t seen any spiders in the mix.

The mystery solved itself when I opened the container yesterday and a small white moth fluttered out. I’d been eating moth silk, which means I’d probably eaten through larvae, as the silk would’ve come from a cocoon evacuated by a mature moth. There would be more than one, right? In all likelihood?

The nuts I’d been eating from that batch at Sprouts weren’t vegan. Oh, well. These things happen! I’m not ill, and the moth is alive and well in the house somewhere, so everyone’s fine. Still, I think I’m done eating from bulk bins. Stores can’t know what’s actually in them, I guess is the lesson here. Bulk foods are generally the thriftier way to go, but I’m not going to pay to eat moth larvae!

It was dumb of me to continue eating the strands of peanut skins and crumbs, but at least I can bring you this Public Service Announcement: proceed with caution when opting to purchase food from bulk bins. Where there’s larvae, there could also be something worse!

Time will tell if there are larvae growing in my gut. You know you’ll hear about it if there are.

 

 

Cicadas are rad, and other random thoughts. (Plus a mini gym update!)

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Sorry again about Tuesday’s late-night post, guys. Today is a new and better day, because today, I’m not operating in crisis mode. All is well, and I have a few thoughts to share. I also have gym updates.

Thing 1: It was 112 degrees today, and it’s been thereabouts for weeks now. This kind of heat ushers us into the cicada season part of summer in the desert. Cicadas hold a special place in my heart because I associate them with life in Arizona; to me, they’re emblematic in that way. I find them enchanting with their beautiful, diaphanous wings, their benignly short antennae, and their large, round, wide-set eyes that give them those adorable little faces. I’m delighted by the way they rattle their songs without care or concern that they sound like loudly malfunctioning electronics. Cicadas are nature’s industrial music artists, and as appropriate, they crank it! I love them.

Thing 2: I crawled out from under my rock to find that Jake Gyllenhaal is in the new Spider Man movie. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

Thing 3: Netflix drops Money Heist Part 3 on July 19 – next week Friday!!! Money Heist (La Casa de Papel) is my second-favorite series (the first being The Americans). If you enjoy the crime thriller/action genre and haven’t yet seen Money Heist, I highly recommend it. Watch it in its original Spanish with whatever subtitles you need. This series is abjectly brilliant.

I enjoyed the season 3 trailer this morning:

 

 

Thing 3: I keep thinking that today’s Friday because I didn’t need to be anywhere, and I went to Body Pump yesterday morning. It feels odd, switching up a gym schedule I’d had for so long. It’s invigorating. Change is ultimately good, even if I balk at the idea of it sometimes.

Tomorrow is Friday, so it’s Body Combat. The next morning will be Saturday-morning Body Pump, as usual. This works well. I’d rather do Pump the day after Combat than the day before.

I’m so grateful to be able to incorporate such a schedule preference.

(Cue gym updates)

It’s been a good gym week! Monday, we had a sub who challenged us to go up one weight increment on the all-dumbbell biceps track she’d chosen, and I did, and I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t have to drop down to my regular weights. I suppose this means that I should always use the higher weights…? I know that’s what it means. I’m just a bit daunted. I’m doubtful that I can maintain that weight through every biceps track, but that doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t start out with it.

For Body Pump yesterday morning, I went to a location I’d never visited before. The first thing I noticed when I walked in was that its floors are gorgeous, which seems like a weird thing to admire in a gym. The Body Pump instructor had his unique personality and teaching style, which I thought was interesting. It was a good work-out. I’m glad, because that’s going to be my regular Wednesday morning class.

I took a selfie in the locker room beforehand:

 

Body Pump at a new-to-me gym location

 

Everything isn’t different, though! I’m fortunate to be able to keep my former-gym Tuesday/Thursday Pump instructor, as she teaches my Monday class at the new gym!

I like to stick with professionals with whom I click in both formal and friendly ways. A hairstylist who knows how to cut my hair. A tax preparer who knows how to make filing taxes painless and fun. A realtor who’s always, unequivocally the best. And inspirational, authoritative group fitness instructors who set challenges.

Happy Friday Eve, all!

 

 

Indisposed. (Desert tortoise update!)

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It’s a mini-update, actually.

Life did that thing where it throws a hundred thousand things at you and you fail to catch them all and next thing you know, you’re waist-deep in misses and all you have to share in your blog is a few pics of your tortoise… but Geronimo pics have been requested, so it works.

These are from today:

 

The relentless flower-hunter. Capture and kill.

 

(These next three are screenshots from video clips! I was going to post a Geronimo video today, but they came through mangled and unwatchable, for some reason.)

 

Camo artist at work, complete with a leaf in his mouth.

 

Heading home!

 

Taking the back path to his burrow

 

We haven’t seen much of Geronimo lately. He’s been digging more. We suspect he’s constructing a network of tunnels beneath our lawn, as we’ve heard his kind are wont to do. If we ever achieve snaking a little camera through, I’ll take you along!

 

 

Posting on the 4th of July. (Gym updates, because.)

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First things first: Happy Independence Day, fellow Americans!

Trivial things second: gym updates, to duly relay how it went when I did the back-to-back Combat/Pump class thing again last weekend. How it went was, it didn’t. I got real with myself at the last minute and admitted that I’ll never have 200% to give in two hours, so it wouldn’t make sense to waste my time and stress my body.

This morning’s workout rocked. Our instructor put together a 4th of July-themed tracklist, and somehow, she motivated me to increase certain upper-body weights yet again. On my way out, I CANCELLED my membership at that gym. My second gym is now my only gym! I’m not sad about it. It was a great five years overall. I won’t have to miss anyone, either… I may have cancelled my gym membership, but I didn’t cancel my gym friends. Most of us have migrated to the same new gym. ALSO, I get to continue taking Body Pump with the aforementioned badass instructor, because she teaches at my new gym, too!

Starting next week, my new workout schedule is going to be M-W-F and either Saturday or Sunday. Two of the classes will fall on consecutive days, but it’ll be better than the three days in a row I’d done for so long.

For our pic today, here’s Yours Truly using a wall as a headrest and repping a favorite metal band. I live in jeans and oversize t-shirts.

 

In my natural habitat

 

That is all. Have a safe and fun weekend, my friends.

 

 

Super into it all. (June Favorites!)

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I’m back with another Monthly Favorites post, because, well, another month’s gone by. You who enjoy these posts didn’t have to wait long if June went as quickly for you as it did for me! Let’s get right into it, shall we? We’ve got some streaming television series (all originals on their platforms), we’ve got some food, and we’ve got some products.

Here’s what I loved in June (and still love):

 

1). The Handmaid’s Tale, S3 (Hulu)

 

The Handmaid’s Tale, S3

 

When enough is enough.

 

2). After Life (Netflix)

 

 

When you’re not happy, no one is happy… but you manage to be hilarious while bringing everyone down.

 

3). Absentia (Amazon Prime Original)

 

 

When the cops and the feds can’t get it together, and the only person who can is everyone’s main suspect.

 

4). Good Omens (Amazon Prime Original)

 

 

When you had ONE JOB, but realized that you should’ve re-taken Armageddon 101, which you apparently failed.

 

5). Sinto Gourmet Spicy Red Kimchi.

 

Sinto Gourmet Spicy Red Kimchi

 

One of my go-to meals: brown rice, nori (seaweed), and kimchi. I’m simple like that. I’m not too picky about my kimchi, but this one is exceptional in its balance of flavors.

 

6). Hakuna Banana Strawberry Frozen Dessert.

 

Hakuna Banana Strawberry Frozen Dessert

 

Do not approach this dessert thinking it’s like dairy or plant-based ice creams, because it’s not… its mouthfeel is too different. Just think of it as a frozen dessert, and you’re good. This stuff is delicious, devoid of added sugar, and delightfully almost-chewy in its thick texture. I’m loving it this summer!

 

7). Cherries.

 

Cherry season 2019!

 

But of course my favorite fruit made June’s “Favorites” list.

 

8). Snak Club Protein Power Snack Mix.

 

Snak Club Protein Power Snack Mix

 

This is one of those snacks that I’ll gorge myself on without a thought. It behooves me to measure it out in some way! I picked this up at the V.A. in Palo Alto, and I’m still eating it… I discovered that the Phoenix V.A. store carries it, too. I haven’t looked for it in civilian stores because I’m over at the hospital enough that I can just get it there. If I didn’t have it at hand, I’d order it, for sure.

 

9). Earth Science Creamy Fruit Oil Cleanser A-D-E. (Vegan and cruelty-free.)

 

Earth Science Creamy Fruit Oil Cleanser A-D-E

 

I’d been using my beloved Alba Botanica Hawaiian Pineapple Enzyme gel cleanser for three/four years now, so when I ran out this last time, I decided it’d be good to switch things up. The skin adapts to products! I browsed the shelves at Sprout’s and decided on this cleanser. I’m liking it so far. It’s lightly scented. It feels nice. (Also, it’s a couple bucks cheaper than the Alba Botanica one.)

 

10). Derma-E Anti-Aging Regenerative Day Cream. (Vegan and cruelty-free.)

 

Derma E Anti-Aging Regenerative Day Cream

 

I started using this day cream late in June, so it’s too soon to report on its regenerative powers. It’s already on this list because I loved it immediately for its texture. This product manages to be creamy and rich without feeling heavy or greasy. I love the way it feels! It’s going to remain a favorite regardless of the “results” I see or don’t see.

 

And there you have it, my friends. I hope you had a lovely first month of summer, as well.

 

 

My bite is worse than my bark? (Sharing about my spirit animal.)

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As a kid growing up in a city, I always wanted to see a deer in the wild. When I finally did, the event proved powerful in the incongruity of its moment. It was unexpected. I was 19 and alone in a place I’d never imagined I’d be, in the thick of an equally unimaginable situation. Coming face-to-face with that deer seemed a magical development, and it was: it marked a turning point that ultimately changed the course of my life. It was like the deer had been sent as a sign of encouragement. We held our mutual gaze, and then we went our separate ways.

I’ve always loved animals and appreciated the connectedness we share as sentient beings, but my momentary interaction with this deer left me with a unique impression. It felt personal. To draw a comparison, I feel a deep connection with our wild horses here in Arizona, but I felt connected to the deer I encountered when I was 19 and living in a foreign country… as if the deer was a part of me.

Considering this, I thought it interesting recently when I took one of those fluffy “What’s my Spirit Animal” quizzes and found that my spirit animal is a deer. The description read:

“When you have the deer as spirit animal, you are highly sensitive and have a strong intuition. By affinity with this animal, you have the power to deal with challenges with grace. You master the art of being both determined and gentle in your approach. The deer totem wisdom imparts those with a special connection with this animal with the ability to be vigilant, move quickly, and trust their instincts to get out the trickiest situations.”

After my interaction with the deer, I did, in fact, go on to use my instincts to get myself out of a tricky situation – the tricky situation in which I was flailing at the time of our encounter.

***

Regardless of the extent of my belief in the meaningfulness of “spirit animals,” it was eye-opening to take this quiz from where I stand today. I may have taken 15 different “what’s my spirit animal” quizzes over the years and landed on 15 different species of critter, but where I am right now is in a place of processing some aspects of the past. “My” deer has turned up in poems and prose I’ve written since I encountered her, but she’s been at the front of my mind these last few years, especially. Coming up with a deer result on this silly online quiz seemed more than coincidental.

What really got me taking the notion of spirit animals seriously was the deer energy description I went on to find in Ravenari’s Animal Energy/Animal Guide Dictionary on Wildspeak dot com. If you know me…

 

[from wildspeak dot com]

“Muntjac deer – Bark and Bite

Keywords:

Having a bite that is worse than your bark, fighting for what’s yours, defending your territory, alertness, the power of observation, finely tuned instincts, letting others know that they’re in trouble, comparing yourself to others, surrender to the spirit, trust in nature.”

Yes, the deer is my spirit animal. The muntjac deer, to be precise.

I have to say that I do believe in spirit animals, now that I’ve taken a spirit-animal quiz in an introspective mind-frame. I couldn’t help but consider my result in the context of my one encounter with the animal in question. I thought about how I felt, and how that animal appeared in a moment that greatly impacted my life. For me, the quiz’s result was a revelation, more than a declaration.

[If you’re interested, this is the quiz I took]

 

 

 

Fitness Updates check-in, because I am a rocket scientist.

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Consider this to be Part 2 of last Thursday’s post. I didn’t think I’d have much to report, but here we are!

I went ahead with my crazy idea to do Body Pump immediately after Body Combat, and now I’ve got documentation for myself (which I’m sharing with you) regarding how that went: it was really, really, really hard. End of documentation. Not exactly the notes you’d find in a rocket scientist’s journal.

Conclusion: Sunday’s double-class combo was a learning experience.

Body Combat was the first class. I threw myself into it, as usual. I always feel like I have energy to spare after a workout, but now I know that whatever’s left is not enough to fuel another 50 minutes with the same drive I applied to the first class. It was a struggle to get through Body Pump without decreasing my weights, and I was amazed that I did it! I’d just never felt so tired during a workout. Even more disconcerting, I was hungry during the workout. How does one deal with hunger during a workout?! It was a strange sensation. It made me feel weaker.

On the way home from the gym, I stopped by the water store to refill six five-gallon jugs of water. It probably wasn’t the brightest idea to haul 30 gallons of water home at that point, but I really thought it would be okay. My mind insisted, the classes are over! You’re not at the gym anymore! You can do the usual stuff! One of those three statements was a lie. My mind lied. It was not a good idea to do “the usual stuff.”

I shuffled slowly through the rest of the day, stopping to rest between steps. I had to gather energy for the next few steps. I had to take a few breaths to overcome dizziness. Oh, and the pain! Weirdly, all of my lower-body joints flared at once.

I felt like I was going to pass out as I did the laundry and some minor household tasks, yet somehow I managed to assist Callaghan in moving some Very Heavy Things in the house. It had to be done, and again, my mind said, Drive ON, Soldier. Since my week at the War-Related Illness and Injury Study Center, I’m now very aware of how my mind does this… but I don’t think of it until after the fact.

The next day was yesterday. I felt that I had energy, but the day ended with no alleviation of the joint pain. Muscle soreness also became a factor. I finally took some Advil and flopped onto the bed with my phone. I had a feeling I would report on my experiment in today’s post, so I took a selfie there in the moment of grade-7 pain.

 

Joint pain everywhere from the waist down. Just lying here waiting for the Advil to kick in.

 

I do pride myself on how well I can flop on the bed and stay there when I’m in pain. Haha!

I took more Advil the next morning – this morning, that is – and I went back to Body Pump and I smashed my workout, because today is a NEW DAY. Last night’s pain? Ancient history, thanks to sleep and ibuprofen! Today’s Body Pump workout went well. It was kind of awesome to note the difference in how strong I felt this morning compared to how I felt in Sunday’s class post-Body Combat.

This leads me to my spin-off experiment plan, which is to do the double classes again this Sunday with just one change: I’ll skip the last track in Body Combat (core, aka ab-work), and I’ll take that time to sit and eat a protein/energy bar. I’m hoping that a little break for rest and food between classes will be restorative enough! I don’t see a need to do TWO core tracks, anyway. The one at the end of Body Pump will suffice. I do Combat for the cardio; why work abs twice in two hours?

 

 

Dreaming of a greener day (Fitness updates!)

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I’ve had this glute/hamstring issue on my left side for months now. It’s still there, even after taking two weeks off. In fact, it’s getting worse! I finally said to myself, Self, wouldn’t it be great to get in your four workouts per week without doing consecutive days?

The only way to do four workouts per week with a day of recovery between workout days is to double up classes.

Thus, I got the insane idea to do what a lot of people do and slip a day of back-to-back Combat (cardio kickboxing) and Pump (weight-training) into my schedule. This is a scenario I’ve avoided for years. IT JUST SO HAPPENS that my schedule needed re-vamping, anyway. My “primary” gym (whose name rhymes with LA HOT MESS) finally dumped Body Pump from their schedules. Hoards of Body Pump orphans flooded out into the streets in search of new classes, bloating the available ones at the OTHER gym’s various locations. (I haven’t gone to a weekend Pump class since the last one on June 1st, but I’ve heard reports of the over-crowding at these other gyms.)

So I looked at those gyms’ schedules to see where weekend back-to-back Combat/Pump classes are offered, and I decided on one to try. It’s a bit further away going south, but that means that I can skirt around the construction zone that is my entire neighborhood here in NW Tempe. I’m fine trekking out to a south Tempe class! I was specifically looking to go either north or south; I found both, and they’re both on Sunday mornings, which is also fine.

I chose the south location because its first class, Combat, starts at 9am, which is what I’m used to. I’m looking forward to it. The instructor (easily findable in the local Les Mills crowds on FB) looks to be a complete badass, also in keeping with what I’m used to.

So that’s the main fitness update this time. It’s more a gym update than a fitness update, but it’s a big change and a big deal for me to try the back-to-back class thing. I’m dropping my recently adopted Friday morning Combat class so I can take a rest day after Thursday’s Pump. Maybe this will help the situation in my left glute/hamstring. I don’t think that doing Combat and Pump one after the other will aggravate the problem, but we shall see.

As for last week in Palo Alto, I didn’t get to work out, after all, because the on-site gym was closed the whole week. (I found out when I got to its doors.) There was a lot of walking and stair-climbing in my day-to-day, though, so I did get to get moving!

 

 

My week at the War-Related Illness and Injury Study Center

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At the top of my mind today: our hearts have been heavy with the recent disappearance of a dear friend, one of Callaghan’s longest-standing, closest friends here in the States. Over the last 20+ years, they’ve been co-workers, roommates, and motorcycle road trip partners, continuing to take trips together once or twice a year. The last time Davey came through here was in March, and I just hate writing all of this in the past tense. The wide-spread search for Davey was called off yesterday. Davey G. Johnson, wherever you are in the universe, we love you. Just wanted to put that out there.

—–

As promised, I’m here to fill you in on the medical experience that took me out of state for six days.

It all started when I took the Gulf War Registry Health Exam for Veterans. My results led to my experience volunteering myself to research efforts at the War-Related Illness and Injury Study Center (WRIISC) at the V.A. in Palo Alto, California. The Palo Alto V.A. has one of the three WRIISC programs in the country, the other two being in Washington D.C. and New Jersey.

I gladly accepted the WRIISC’s invitation to donate my time and DNA to this on-going research project. The study benefits combat veterans of Southwest Asia conflicts as the research is advanced through the center’s findings.

Let me just put in here that “Gulf War Illness” remains a controversial term. It broadly refers to a spectrum of symptoms that can also be described as “chronic multi-symptom illness” or “medically unexplained illnesses” related to combat service in the Gulf War, resultant of exposure to certain agents, fumes, and environmental hazards.

My experience at the WRIISC was fantastic. There were only two of us in this round of the study, and we received the best of care. He and I were flown out to Palo Alto and housed for the week at the Defenders Lodge.

 

Tired but grateful at the end of the last day of the study.

 

Those who take part in the WRIISC studies benefit personally, as well, as the other veteran and I learned. With our study results and notes documented in the system, specialists at our home V.A. hospitals will follow up on the WRIISC team’s recommendations with pinpointed exams and further testing that may lead to official diagnoses.

The other veteran and I both left with recommendations for further neuralpsychological evaluation… what I called “brain day” of the study mainly involved a mentally exhausting three-hour battery of tests. He and I struggle with similar cognitive difficulties, so we weren’t surprised that we tested out the same in that particular category.

In addition to a complete neuralpsychological work-up, it was also recommended that I undergo evaluation for Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS), an illness that is apparently not uncommon amongst Gulf War veterans. For me, this would actually explain a lot.

Incidentally, I always thought it was strange that I’m tired most of the time, but I still work out with an abundance of energy in my body. I’ll often yawn before class begins and even during class between tracks in both Body Combat and Body Pump, yet when the music starts up, I’m instantly “ON.”

One of the WRIISC team members commented that soldiers are trained to power through fatigue, and many veterans never unlearn that conditioning in their bodies. When our minds recognize that it’s Go Time, we just GO, no matter how tired we are. What you see is a person with a lot of energy, because we do have a lot of energy when we’re in training mode. We have so much energy, we have some to spare after the workout is over! You can have a lot of energy while your mind is screaming “fight or flight,” even if you’re fatigued.

This might be the reason why I get my best workouts with instructors who deliver that drill-sergeant vibe. The more forceful the instructor’s commands, the better I respond. (This is more true for Body Pump, though… in Body Combat, I’m there to fight to the death no matter the instructor’s vibe.)

The underlying take-away for veterans with Gulf War Illness – for everyone, in fact – is that the mind/body connection is real.

It was wonderful to be able to volunteer and contribute to research helping other veterans with war-related illness and injuries. I never thought I’d give away my DNA for research purposes (or for any reason, for that matter), but I was happy to do it at the WRIISC. I’m grateful for the excellent care that I received, and for the light shed and answers obtained regarding my own health picture.

If you’re a Gulf War veteran experiencing health issues, I strongly recommend that you consider taking the Gulf War Registry Health Exam for Veterans.

 

 

Medical travel blog in pics, part 2. (More selfies and food pics!)

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You want selfies, I got you. You want food pics, I got you. You want to know where I am and what exactly’s going on, I don’t got you. Not yet, anyway. It’s not a big deal, but I just wasn’t sure whether I was allowed to mention it. It turns out that I can, so next week Tuesday… I got you.

Here’s the rest of this medical travel week, starting with Wednesday (yesterday):

 

About to leave my room for my morning appointments

A second day of hospital bathroom selfies. Imagine that!

I helped myself to this sleeveless hooded tank when Callaghan put it in his to-donate pile. Shopping your partner’s clothing cast-offs pays off sometimes. This tank is large, but it works well over a long-sleeve top.

Last night’s Door Dash delivery: bok choy with black mushrooms and soft tofu, brown rice, and miso soup with seaweed and tofu.

The “after.” I demolished all of the bok choy, seaweed, and tofu. I ate maybe three mushrooms, and I barely touched the rice or the broth. I was really just craving the greens. They were delicious. Do you, too, feel the life flowing back into your veins when you eat the greens you’re craving?

This right here is LIFE in a plastic spoon. This seaweed was SO GOOD. There was a lot of it, too.

 

Thursday (today):

 

This selfie was taken with a timer, and, well, you know my phenomenal camera and pic skills.

I did think of looking in the mirror while taking this shot, though. Today’s outfit was my standard uniform of jeans, boots, and t-shirt.

Tonight’s Door Dasher brought this fabulous Pad Thai with a side of brown rice. I asked for broccoli with the tofu, green onions, and crushed peanuts. There was no food left for an “after” pic.

I leave early tomorrow morning! My bedside table is set for Friday.

Last night showering in this huge bathroom.

And a last-minute selfie here in the lamplight.

 

In case you’re wondering, I had Door Dash bring dinner all week because while I sincerely tried to eat the hospital food, I just couldn’t do it. Moreover, the portions here are small compared to the volume of food I normally eat, so it wouldn’t have been enough even if I did want to eat it. I wasn’t the only one who sought food from other places! No one’s meals went to waste, though. We know we can eat from other peoples’ trays if they go unclaimed. I did forage through my tray every once in a while to see whether there was anything I wanted. One time, I found some broccoli. I scarfed it down inside of two minutes. It wasn’t bad. Broccoli is broccoli.

For lunches, I mostly ate protein bars, trail-mix-type foods, and fresh fruit bought from the canteen. There was the one day that I bought sushi from the canteen. It was surprisingly good! Sushi from a military canteen!

 

 

 

Medical travel blog in pics (aka a bunch of selfies and food pics.)

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We’re taking this to a new level of silliness today, because there’s not much I can say regarding this medical/research trip. I’ve been taking pics along the way, instead. I’m afraid there’s no attempt at artistry going on here… this is literally a see-what-I’m-seeing sort of display that ended up being mostly food and selfies. You who enjoy the latter are going to love this post! It’s a rare selfie extravaganza. But let’s start in the bathroom at Sky Harbor International Airport and go from there. Haha!

Sunday:

 

(Jansport backpack with a Kipling monkey, in case you know your backpacks and you’re confused by this pic)

Benefit of having short legs: relative comfort in small aircraft economy seating

I’m almost never without a protein bar. I still had one in my bag after I ate this one. In fact, half of my suitcase was food.

Washed out next to the window in my room

These blooms smell divine!

Vegan pizza Margherita (delivery for the win)

The “after.”

 

Monday:

 

Literally dropping with fatigue after a long day at the hospital.

Got back to my room, flopped on the bed, threw my hand up to shield my eyes from the sun, and snapped this pic.

I did a little shopping at the hospital’s retail store.

This protein power snack mix is one of my new favorite things!!! I scarfed down most of the bag and had to restrain myself from eating the rest. I’d ordered food from Chipotle.

Chipotle burrito bowl: brown rice, sofritas (tofu), black beans, fresh tomato salsa, fajita veggies, romaine lettuce, and guacamole.

The “after.”

Jumbled assortment of toiletries and makeup before I organized them all again

 

Tuesday (today):

Getting ready to conquer my second day of hospital appointments

My once-a-year bathroom selfie

x2. Today was brain day, which required loose, comfy clothing.

Tonight’s Door Dash delivery: a falafel/hummus wrap. I ate the whole thing, so there were no remains to photograph.

 

Exciting, right??! [insert laughing/crying emoji here] Thursday’s post will contain more of the same. I plan to make it to the hospital’s little gym tomorrow afternoon, and that’s an environment I should be able to photograph! Pretty much the only pics I can take in the hospital, itself, are in the bathrooms.

 

 

A little saint, mostly sinner. (May Favorites!)

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For those of you who enjoy these “favorites” posts and for anyone else curious, scroll down to see what I loved watching, eating, and putting on my face in May!

 

1). The Curse of La Llorona (film)

 

 

Because horror always completes a month. Incidentally, I’m counting down the days to Short Horror October! I’ve already discovered a great one that I’ve stashed away just for that series.

 

2). John Wick 3: Parabellum (film)

 

 

Because who needs a plot when you have Keanu Reeves kicking ass in exquisitely choreographed fight scenes? I will say that the story-line makes sense if you’ve seen the first two John Wick films. If nothing else, you can just sit back and enjoy the splendor. The sets are eye-candy in and of themselves.

 

3). Chambers (Netflix Original Series)

 

 

Key words and phrases for this intriguing Netflix thriller/horror series: Native American representation in characters and their actors; Navajo; Diné (Navajo) language; Navajo rez; Arizona!

 

4).  Dead to Me (Netflix Original Series)

 

 

Because there aren’t enough well-written drama series that you can watch in conveniently packaged 30-minute episodes. This one has a darkly funny edge and a talented duo of main actors… Christina Applegate and Linda Cardellini both kill it (pun not intended). Cardellini also plays the lead in The Curse of La Llorona; it was wonderful to witness her range between these great performances.

 

5).  Love, Death & Robots (Netflix) (NSFW)

 

 

Even more rare! Here we’ve got a brilliant animated series with episodes that run from six minutes to 20 minutes, most of them just around 15 minutes long. We tore through Love, Death & Robots. It’s hard to keep the binge at bay when the episodes are this short! Each episode stands alone as a story. This series is like an animated Black Mirror in tiny installments.

We loved every one of these little stories. If I had to recommend just one, though, I think it’d be Beyond the Aquila Rift. Or maybe Sonnie’s Edge. Or The Witness. Or Fish Night. Or….

 

6). Killing Eve (Hulu)

 

 

May I just say that Jodie Comer plays the most impressive psychopath I’ve ever seen on screen?

 

7). May 2019 Grand Sumo Tournament (Natsu Basho) (Grand Sumo Highlights)

 

 

Because Sumo is my favorite sport. This time, my favorite badass Sumo warrior came back healthy enough to earn back the Ozeki rank he’d lost in the March tournament! Congratulations, Tochinoshin! The pride of the country of Georgia is back!!

 

Tochinoshin

 

(Pic taken from Tochinoshin’s instagram)

 

8). SkinnyPop Sea Salt Popcorn Mini Cakes.

 

Skinny Pop Popcorn Mini Cakes – Sea Salt

 

These mini popcorn cakes are wonderful little vehicles for salt. They know their place in this world.

 

9). e.l.f. Sculpting Silk Eyeshadow in Berry Please. (Vegan and cruelty-free.)

 

e.l.f. Sculpting Silk Eyeshadow in Berry Please

 

I went looking for an eyeshadow trio holding these very shades. The quality of e.l.f.’s eyeshadows gets better and better, though it’s always been good! The shadows in this mini palette blend beautifully, and the colors are gorgeous. Vegan, cruelty-free, and only $4.00.

 

10). e.l.f. Liquid Matte Lipstick in Vampy Violet. (Vegan and cruelty-free.)

 

e.l.f. Liquid Matte Lipstick in Vampy Violet

 

A purple so dark, it almost looks black. My heart!! This liquid lipstick doesn’t feel drying, and its staying-power is excellent. Lip balm works well to fill out the color at the end of the day, or after eating something oily. The color lasts even with lip balm over it! Vegan, cruelty-free, and $5.00.

 

That’s it for May! Happy Friday Eve, my friends.

 

 

Strategy: layering. Mood: determined. (Random updates!)

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Next week already! Next week is the week I’ll be out of town for five days of medical testing and evaluation. I’ll bring my laptop, so I should still be able to post here on Tuesday and Thursday.

It’s going to be colder where I’m going, so I’ve been thinking about what to bring. I suck when it comes to packing, even if I check the weather forecast up until my departure date. Don’t you hate when you’re at the end of a trip and you’re left with a suitcase full of things that mostly haven’t been worn? I’ll pack clothes for layering. That should work.

I’ll have access to a gym, which means I’ll be packing gym shoes, as well.

Have no doubt that I’m looking forward to putting on those gym shoes during my trip! I’m going to lift weights on my own for the first time since starting Body Pump, so I’ll be able to find out how much weight I can lift when doing regular sets (rather than how much I can lift at a fast pace, as we do in Pump).

June mood: determined.

 

First of June mood.

 

It was almost midnight when this pic was taken a few days ago. I was wiped out. ALSO, if my bedroom walls look especially white in this black-and-white pic, that’s because they are! We’ve been painting. Room by room, the brown walls in our house are vanishing. It’s magic.

Summer is afoot; for me, it’ll begin once I get back from my trip. I’m going to dig into my writing. The digging-in will actually begin while I’m gone, as I’m considering my trip to be a sort of writer’s retreat.

Leaving spring behind: look for my “May Favorites” post this Thursday. Until then!

 

 

A note on mental health awareness month.

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May is coming to a close, and with it, mental health awareness month. Are we all aware? On my part, I haven’t acknowledged the significance of the month in this space, though many of you have followed this blog because of my mental health posts.

For you who don’t experience clinical depression and can’t begin to understand it, here’s a scenario that might help:

You’re in the locker room at the gym when your ear catches a song on the radio. The song brings a sense of nostalgia so vague, it’s a mere tease. You can’t identify the song. It’s maddening. You listen hard to catch the lyrics, but the T.V. is on, too, and its volume is louder than the radio’s. You struggle to block out the sound of HGTV’s Fixer Upper so you can focus on the song. Shazam isn’t an option because the song is too faint; all the app is going to tell you is that it doesn’t recognize Fixer Upper’s Chip and Joanna Gaines. In a near-panic, you hear the song beginning its end, fading off in a flock of lyrics. You catch one expression – just one – which yields nothing on search engines. After long moments of failed attempts, you toss aside the useless expression. You’ve long since forgotten the song’s melody. Then you can’t even remember what it was about the song. Others try to help, begging you to describe the song so they can tell you what it is.

The song is soon irrelevant, anyway, because all you remember is the experience of wanting to know something and being unable to find the answer. It seems like much ado about nothing, except it isn’t… it isn’t about nothing. It’s about everything.

This is what depression can feel like: a fruitless search for an answer to an unknown question.

In the end, nothing matters. You’re compelled to give up because of this one mysterious, amorphous thing. It all feels meaningless, and the feeling is contagious to everything in your life and in your world. You begin the exhausting fight against the downward pull, which you can’t explain or describe, either. You’re left with the cliché of the abyss.

It’s a relief when a doctor figures out that there’s something awry in your brain. You start taking medication, and it helps. You sit and interact with professional listeners, and that helps, too.

Depression demands answers. It’s also hard for those who don’t experience it… it’s hard to be outside of it looking at someone who’s locked within. Those who chastise the depressed (just snap out of it, etc.) make themselves heard more than those who feel compassionate. The result? Stigma riding on the back of this medical condition.

Unfortunately, stigma speaks louder than compassion. This is why mental health awareness month is important. Compassion needs a louder voice. It needs to be attached to depression and other mental health conditions more firmly than stigma… and awareness can give it a chance.

 

 

A ghost eye is lost in plain sight. (Coraline.)

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Imagine that you’re alone in the house when you suddenly hear a feminine voice. It says, “a ghost eye is lost in plain sight.”

This happened to me last week. I was in the kitchen, and the voice came from the living room. I recognized that silky voice, and I knew those strange words… I’d heard them several times before. The speaker was Beldam, the aptly named evil crone in the animated film Coraline.

“A ghost eye is lost in plain sight” is the second part of a line that begins with “In each of the three wonders I’ve made just for you.”  

I went to the living room as I remembered that I’d started yet another re-watching of Coraline two days previously, and that I’d paused it. How did it un-pause itself after two days? Not only was my laptop in sleep mode when “a ghost eye is lost in plain sight” floated into the kitchen, but it was shut… and when I woke up the computer, the Netflix tab wasn’t even displayed. I found myself looking at a different tab. Tell me that’s not creepy.

Computers behave inexplicably at times, so there’s no point to the question of how this could happen. There’s no answer. It’s just a weird glitch.

The incident kind of threw me, though, as I think it would anyone. When you’re alone in the house and you suddenly hear Beldam intoning “a ghost eye is lost in plain sight” from the other room, it gives you a bit of a start.

Coraline has to be one of the spookiest non-horror films I’ve seen. Candy for the horror junkie! It’s one of my favorites.

Apropos of nothing, here’s your sometimes-Tuesday selfie (in which I demonstrate slouching on the couch):

 

Sitting on the couch is one of my many skills.

 

I’m thinking I should finish watching Coraline soon so I can shut down that tab. If I shut it down and I hear “a ghost eye is lost in plain sight” coming from the sleeping, closed computer again, I’ll have to wonder.

 

 

Shellebrating World Turtle Day! (Desert tortoise update!)

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Today I come bearing a few throw-back pics of my scale-baby, because today is Geronimo’s day! May 23 is World Turtle Day, sponsored annually by the American Tortoise Rescue.

 

 

In the year and a half that we’ve had him, our rescued native (Sonoran) desert tortoise has brought bottomless love and joy to our lives. I never would have imagined that I could bond with a tortoise, but here we are.

 

Snuggled up to mommy’s leg

 

How it happened was simple: Geronimo joined us when a friend said he had a desert tortoise who needed a home.

We love animals. We have a large yard that’s geographically and botanically diverse in all the right ways for a native tortoise. How could we not take him in? Callaghan brought him home, and I completed an official adoption procedure through the Arizona Game and Fish Department’s Tortoise Rescue Adoption program. Geronimo has since taken complete ownership of our yard, which is now his yard and which he patrols on the regular.

 

Hello.

 

We got Geronimo during hibernation season, and we didn’t know the first thing about tortoises, much less non-hibernating tortoises. Our crash course came courtesy of his doctor, the coordinator of the tortoise adoption program, and the internet. None of those resources could teach us about our particular kid and his personality, though. He taught us about himself over time. In tortoise time, that would be overnight.

We had to keep him warm in the house the first two+ months; it was like baby-sitting a toddler 24/7. We turned our entire dining room into a pen for his winter home, and so we learned that desert tortoises are climbers. It was all of the toddler clichés: he got into everything; I couldn’t turn my back on him for a second; he peed on me; he was a picky eater (until we learned what foods he loved); I was exhausted trying to watch him all the time; I’d sit down to work on my novel and then immediately have to spring up at the sound of something crashing to the floor. Every day was an adventure in keeping Geronimo safe and out of home-destroying trouble.

At sundown, we fluffed up the hay in his big wooden crate and tucked him into bed. We melted as we watched him gather up the hay and snuggle against the rolled-up towel we’d given him.

We learned that Geronimo is rambunctious, loving, gentle, and hilarious.

 

Hello.

 

At 21 years old, he’s just a baby!

 

First soaking after hibernation!

 

All we had to do in the yard was construct his burrow. Geronimo did the rest. We didn’t know that he would dig himself an underground burrow at the back of the burrow we made for him. So many moments of alarm and is this normal? Is he going to be okay?

We learned.

Geronimo’s favorite things: Romaine lettuce and fresh hibiscus flowers. Our outdoor laundry room. Summer rainstorms during monsoon season. Us, and people in general.

 

Spring grasses and weeds

 

Above all, Geronimo is ancient desert magic… he has an instantly calming effect on everyone who meets him. He is a true son of the Sonoran desert, and we feel privileged to be able to care for him for the state. Arizona celebrates you, kid!

 

 

Ah Bartleby! Ah humanity! (Minimalism, post 16.)

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It was continued home-improvement adventuring that left Sunday’s laundry undone, but I got right into that laundry yesterday. It felt like a good way to start Monday. I didn’t want to drag last week’s laundry into the new week.

Another thing not getting dragged forward in time: three boxes of books!

This is the minimalism post I thought would never happen, guys. This is the one wherein I report that I’m getting rid of a chunk of my book collection, not just a box or two as I’d done previously. From Day 1 of my minimalism journey, I’ve both wanted this and not wanted this. Behold the plot twist chez moi:

 

destination: donation

 

Only after separating out these books did I realize that yeah, they weighed a lot, physically and metaphorically.

It was just a matter of releasing my insistence on keeping all of the books, more than the books, themselves. I had this pre-determined course of action (e.g. inaction) regarding the books, and I finally decided to ask myself why. I could find no good reason for my obstinance.

What I’ve got left are two full shelves of books from end to end in my office closet, along with these stacks of books remaining from my large, stand-alone bookcases:

 

keeping

 

The exercise grew easier as I went. An exhilaration built up in proportion to the growing pile of books to be donated. The question I asked myself with each hard decision: Do I really need this? I know about the significance of Mary Lamb’s accomplishment, so do I need this copy of Tales from Shakespeare? I have a body of this writer’s/poet’s work in a larger volume, so do I need this extant publication? Do I need these classics for any reason other than they’re classics?

Many of these books entered my life during college and grad school, including anthologies and textbooks of literature, poetic theory, and philosophy. I’ve also kept related required readings. The wonderful thing about being an English major and creative writing scholar was that our required reading was largely comprised of novels and books of poetry. I loved most of them. I learned a lot as I read and studied them. Of course I had to keep them! But all of them?

Some books, my reluctance to let go came from what they were. I had this nerdy and pompous idea that everyone should have them. I went back and forth for a day and a half over The Odyssey, The Aeneid, and The Iliad, then decided that I didn’t need to hang onto them because where the ancient Greeks are concerned, I’m more interested in thought than mythology. I’m keeping Edith Hamilton’s Mythology: Timeless Tales of Gods and Heroes, though, for reference. I’m keeping Aristophanes: Four Comedies for “Lysistrata.”

My decision to keep all of my collections of short stories (from classics to contemporary) sometimes came down to one work within. For instance, I’m keeping Melville’s Billy Budd and Other Stories for “Bartleby” (referenced in the title of this post).

In contemporary fiction, both literary and pop, I have a few collections: Nancy Drew (a pile that I’d purchased at a garage sale in Los Angeles in the 70’s – hard-covers published in the 50’s and 60’s) and picture books from Hawaii. J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter, Lee Child’s Jack Reacher, Stephen King’s The Dark Tower. I’m keeping all of Harry Potter, as there are only seven books in that collection. I’m keeping Stephen King’s The Dark Tower series along with my favorite horror novels of his.

As for Lee Child’s Jack Reacher novels? I have them all, and I wanted to keep them all… but there are 23, and while I like every one of them, I like some more than others. Actually, I discovered that I had 28 Reacher books, because I had duplicates of five of the novels. Something I wouldn’t have known! Five duplicates taking up space!

When I went to prune my Reacher collection, I ended up keeping:

  • The Affair
  • Gone Tomorrow
  • Bad Luck and Trouble
  • Worth Dying For
  • Persuader
  • Tripwire
  • Nothing to Lose
  • Without Fail
  • Make Me
  • Past Tense
  • Never Go Back
  • A Wanted Man
  • Night School

 

The Reacher that stays.

 

Plus No Middle Name, a recent collection of Jack Reacher short stories. The first three novels listed are my top three favorites, which might have something to do with the fact that they were my first Reacher novels in the order I bought them from La Fnac in Nice. I discovered Reacher in France, as I’ve mentioned before.

By the time I was finished going through the books, I felt as though I’d escaped a tyranny of sorts. This might seem a dramatic and bizarre way to regard the collection of books I’d so fiercely defended in my minimalism efforts, but I think the tyranny was that of my own stubborn self.

My bookshelves and I feel much lighter now. It’s delightful.

 

 

Weathering. (A sort of fitness update)

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I was going to post a fitness update tonight. Instead, I greet you with a weather report. I can’t help it. I sat down at my desk with the warm dusk wind blowing and our patio wind chimes loud in the best of ways, drifting through the open door. I’ll say it again: there’s something truly mystical about this desert, something incalculably powerful. Tonight I’ve been distracted by the wind animating the trees I can see from my office window… our two palo verdes, our date palm’s fronds, the mesquite across the street. I’ve lived in this desert for almost 30 years, and its magic still startles me.

There wasn’t much to report in fitness news, anyhow. Weight-training class (Body Pump): I increased more of my weights today, and that wasn’t even the plan! Kickboxing (Body Combat): it continues to be a different experience at my second gym, mainly due to the A/C and fan. Long over are my days of drowning in a pool of my own sweat as I drive home. Cardio (Step): I haven’t been going. Sunday morning workouts just aren’t fitting into my weekends, and that’s okay. I’ve been doing my 10-minute version of cardio every day here at home, so there’s no cardio deficit in my workout week.

Finding alternate ways to work out usually isn’t a problem. I’m thinking of the time years ago that I went to my then-boxing gym one evening to find it closing early for some reason I can’t remember. I remember what I did instead, though, and I remember it precisely because of the weather that night.

I drove east through a gathering storm so I could make the evening T’ai Chi forms class at the dojo where I occasionally trained. We did the Crane Chi Kung form, which was my favorite of the Chi Kung animal forms. It was a time during which I preferred Crane to the other animal forms, energetically speaking. Crane is powerful, graceful, and deadly. The Crane form’s expansive movements and deep stances felt good.

Wind actually echoed in the darkened sky as the temperature dropped, and hail began to hit as we practiced Crane. In the next hour, there would begin a heavy rain that would fall throughout the night and a few hours into daylight. There would be thunder and lightning.

It was all quite unusual. Later that night, I turned on the television to watch the weather report – this was during a more analog time – to see that it had actually snowed in Phoenix! It was March, and so rare that such a storm would visit Arizona in the spring, or even in the winter. We’re used to sub-tropical monsoon storms in the late summer.

It was March, and the icy edge of that storm sliced through the Valley like the edge of a crane’s wing through water.

 

 

Long sleeves until 120F.

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One of those large black bumblebees has been hurling itself violently at my office window on and off for the last two days, and I’m starting to worry for it.

In today’s fluff, I bring you another episode of “Selfie Request Fulfillment.” My minor obsession with background and lighting almost got in the way of this. We’re soon to paint all of our interior walls, you see. It’s hard to notice anything pleasing about your surroundings once you’ve finally made a plan to change them to your liking. It is for me, at least.

We bought this house complete with a fresh paint job, a beautiful paint job done with a color that inflicts a sallow glare onto everything in the path of a camera. When I take pics of food or objects, I fiddle with brightness and contrast on my phone to get the thing to look like its proper color. When the subject is human, I don’t do anything to the pics. I lack the patience for it.

Anyway, I figure that as long as I’m aware of how fortunate I am to have walls to paint, I can wish for them to be a different color without a twinge of first-world-problem discomfort.

Here’s yesterday:

 

Long sleeves until 120F

 

That newly thumb-tacked tapestry behind my desk will be moved to another wall after we’re done painting, as I have a different tapestry meant for that space. Looking at this pic, I can’t help but notice that the walls themselves don’t even look like their own color! The warm glow of the wall seen in the upper-right corner is an impostor. The bit of wall revealed in the bottom-left corner of the pic is more accurate… it’s not just a shadow.

The agony of visual deception! Fetch me my smelling salts! I shall retire to my chambers until the walls are painted, though I could make do with a simple fainting couch.

One morning in January, I sat in the living room convinced that there was a bull in my front yard, the ass end of which I could see from the window. I blinked. The bull was still there. I blinked again, and the bull was still there. After blinking a third time, I beheld a sheet draped over our young citrus tree, wrapped loosely and partially cascading. My husband had arranged this to protect the tree from low overnight temperatures. I was mildly disappointed to see that the bull was merely a tree wearing a sheet.

Thanks again for hanging out with me here, one and all!

 

 

Missed Connections Exquisite Corpse, 3

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You know what makes my day sometimes? Missed Connections on Craigslist. I love this collection of writing, these strangers posting missives to one another.

It’s the entries’ titles that interest me, because those are the hooks. When I come across an entry titled “Asparagus Whisperer,” I smile. Not enough can be said of spontaneous smiling! When you’re alone at your computer and you smile out of amusement or affection, it’s genuine. A heartfelt smile intended for no one is a gift to yourself.

I went to Craigslist Missed Connections today and was rewarded, I guess, by the season… people seem to have been especially inspired by each other lately.

So here – I suppose this really has become something of a series! – I’ve collected my favorite hooks gleaned from about a month’s worth of Missed Connections entries. Credit goes to these strangers who unwittingly stopped by to drop bits of poetry for me to gather and combine.

I’ve probably explained this before, but again for you newer readers: I don’t change anything in these entry titles, save for obvious typos, as “(sic)” would muddy up the poem. I don’t add or change punctuation or caps. All I do is quickly skim through the entries and pick out the titles that intrigue me in some way, and I copy/paste them into a Word document.

 

Missed Connections Exquisite Corpse, 3

Hello, we met in the psych ward.
you switched to pharmacology after seeing a psychic
“They” say tue change purse has all the answers

Punk rock dude on 7th ave and indian school.
Serving up delicious pie
From Albuquerque to Vegas via Phoenix

Roadrunner
Cruisin 7th. You took money for the show
Looking For the Classic Beauty at White Mountain Dispensary on 4/20

Asparagus Whisperer
Missing that comic book girlie
Studying Spanish

Thoughtful woman who stopped at the Clean Freak
Looking for Michael the Bearded Bartender
Silver Cadillac on cave creek

Looking for my up, up, and away
Missed and missing still

Woman crying in car
I was at the movies alone – you were too.

 

La Fin.

 

 

Say it like you mean it, take it how you want it.

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As a post-postscript to forever (hopefully) close the subject of the A/C saga at our house, the roofing people showed up today to patch the hole in the roof. The lack of communication with the roofers was an okay reason to miss the gym at the last minute. I wasn’t going to complain about it! I would rather miss the gym than miss the roofing people, whose Next Available is in six weeks.

I did some housework, some push-ups, and some writing. I took selfies for my writing FB page profile, and also for my own amusement. That last was actually a matter of resisting the urge to re-watch my favorite movie. It seemed fine enough to wear the movie, instead.

 

Tombstone. Take it how you want it.

 

In addition to “endure the sun in your eyes long enough to take the picture,” my expression says, “Say it like you mean it. Take it how you want it.” That’s the other thing about today: I’m feeling defiant after reviewing a particular blood lab result. I’m not going to speak further of it yet, as I’ll know more in the near future. For now, can we just agree that the internet has the worst bedside manner? I’m not being flippant with that superlative. I really mean it. The internet does not care. When you have a weird lab result and the internet says it can only be one of two things, and it seems that one of the things is off the table, then you’re left wondering about the other thing.

You know it’s not a laboratory error, because your results came out the same in three consecutive tests since January. So you hope for an anomaly of a test result. You hope to be more anomalous than you already are.

Also, that isn’t a Tombstone t-shirt per se. It’s just an AZ shirt. It shows Wyatt Earp, his brothers, and Doc Holliday riding above the inscription “Department of Homeland Security.” Cheesy, I know, but I love it.

Back to the mention of Facebook, though! I’m thinking of taking inspiration from Callaghan and updating my professional (writing) page more. I’ll continue posting links to these blog entries on my personal FB page for you who anticipate them – thank you greatly for that! – but I’m going to stop saying that I intend to post there more spontaneously. I recently tried to get back into FB from my personal page, and it took five minutes for the nausea to set in. I’m irate enough as it is regarding our current state of affairs!

It may not seem like it from this post, but I’m really doing well and feeling well. I’m not a walking bad mood. Things are good. The roofing people came and patched the hole! A solid roof over one’s head cannot be overestimated.

 

 

April Favorites, of sorts. (ft. zombies et al)

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To those of you who look forward to my “monthly favorites” lists, I must apologize again this year. I have no list for April. This isn’t to say that there were no “little things” to be enjoyed last month, because there were… mostly simple things, which often feel the most satisfying, anyway. Dried apples and fresh strawberries. Spring cactus blooms and perfect Arizona in-between weather. I discovered an exceptional hairstylist at the Supercuts down the street. Body Combat at my alternate gym seems promising in terms of consistency. Mundane little things like this make a big difference in the day-to-day, I find.

On the writing front, I’m crafting a plan for my second novel. It’s been too long since my last writing update, I know! I’ve been writing poetry all this time between novels. Poetry explains the world to me, and these days, there’s a lot of explaining to be done. Let us not speak of the explanation-resistant world here. This is a place for serious stuff, like witches and zombies.

If nothing else, April was a month of enjoyable horror entertainment. We went looking for it on Netflix and found ourselves catching up: we had the second season of Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, and the second and third seasons of Santa Clarita Diet. I delighted in the revelation that the former got darker, and the latter got funnier.

On the cinema side, we went to see Us, which left us adequately spooked and contemplative. Us exemplifies psychological horror done well. I love a film that makes you say, “Now that I know what I know, I want to see this movie again.” But I haven’t re-watched it yet, because the next movie I went to see was Pet Sematary. My thoughts on the re-make? I enjoyed it, but I prefer the original. I still get cold prickles recalling the image of Zelda dying in that bed in 1989, whereas Zelda in 2019’s re-make didn’t terrify me at all. Also, 1989 zombie cat creeped me out more effectively than 2019 zombie cat. See? I’m a simple and low-budget horror fan, happily freaking out before simple and low-budget horror flicks.

At any rate, I suppose April could be summed up with witches, the dark lord, zombies, and all other species of the undead.

May is looking good. It’s an odd-numbered month, which means it’s a Grand Sumo Highlights month!

I love this sumo slogan:

 

[art by sumofish]

On that note, Happy Friday Eve, all.

 

 

 

The eye of the tortoise. (Desert tortoise update!)

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Again, I didn’t plan to post about Geronimo so soon after the last time. If it seems that I’m obsessed with my scale-baby, it’s because I totally am.

 

All clear in the laundry room, mommy. You’re welcome.

 

It occurred to me recently that our sweet, funny little dinosaur looked familiar. He reminded me of someone famous, an idea that became a matter worthy of serious investigation. Geronimo has a celebrity doppelganger! I must find out who! An image came to mind, and from that, a suspicion. I dug around online and confirmed it. Either Godzilla (1998) was deliberately created in the likeness of Geronimo’s kind, or the likeness was a coincidence. It’s that distinct shape of the face… the nose, the chin, the slope of the mouth, nearly everything!

 

Godzilla 1998 was inspired by someone, it seems.

 

Geronimo’s eyes are prettier, though.

 

Eye of the desert tortoise.

 

To use a well-worn cliché, I believe I’ve waxed poetic about Geronimo’s eyes before. They’re stunning. They’re green – often greenish-gray in appearance, depending – with black accents and a luminous white ring around each pupil. Geronimo’s eye looks like a total eclipse, and I do feel like I’m falling blindly into it when I stare too long. Gazing into Geronimo’s eyes is like an astronomical experience.

 

Eye of the desert tortoise

The eclipse that sees all.

 

Also, Geronimo is a much cuter monster than Godzilla, in my admittedly biased opinion. Godzilla wouldn’t love hibiscus flowers, now, would he? We would never see Godzilla devouring flowers. Hibiscus flowers remain Geronimo’s favorite food. Behold this video from today:

 

 

Geronimo’s continuing with his daily spring pattern: he emerges from his burrow in the mid-morning, eats, and retires back to his burrow for a nap at around noon. He comes out again in the late afternoon, often just to sit on his patio before going all the way in for bedtime.

 

Calling it a night in the early evening

 

He sleeps through everything, including theatrics such as yesterday’s: a micro-burst hit our neighborhood and felled our neighbors’ mesquite tree, the broken part of which ended up partially on the pavilion covering Geronimo’s burrow.

 

Fallen mesquite

 

That was a strange and magical bit of weather; we were surprised to have our first mesquite tree weather casualty as early as April. I have a feeling that Geronimo’s going to be ecstatic when this year’s monsoon season arrives!

 

 

 

Brain GliTcHes. [Health update]

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In A/C update news, things are going swimmingly. The insulation will be blown in tomorrow, and the roof damage will be repaired in a couple of weeks. Voilà and YAY!

In health update news, adventures are afoot. I’ll be going out of town soon for a week’s worth of testing. There may be a few – non-traditional, I guess you could say? – reasons for some of the issues I’ve been experiencing, particularly in my brain. Guys, I recently wrote “oxymoron” rather than “redundancy” in a blog post title; I wasn’t too surprised when the mistake was brought to my attention, as this sort of thing’s been happening more and more frequently… not only in writing, but in speaking, too. I say the wrong/opposite words, miss/leave out words, butcher words, forget words completely, stumble over words and get physically lost around my speech, and/or put words in the wrong order… even when I’m talking to myself.

Sometimes, I can’t find words to say at all. I find an echo-less tunnel where the words used to be. My mind being an actual blank renders me actually speechless. This is especially frustrating when there’s a roomful of people looking at you in expectation of words coming out of your mouth.

There was that time at a party when I forgot how I met someone earlier, at the same party. We were introduced, we had a lengthy, substantial conversation, and when I ran into her again less than an hour later, I had no recollection of how I knew her. How we met. How we were introduced.

Moments pass and vanish from my memory like they never happened. It’s like I’d have to record everything in writing and in the moment in order to know about it in future moments.

 

[…]

All of this has been going on for a while, but it’s gotten worse these least few years. Too many minutes, words, and events have been sucked in and out of nothingness, and so testing has been scheduled. I’m incredibly grateful. I’m celebrating the circled date in my planner. I can’t wait to catch that flight to a facility where maybe someone can find my brain,

(among other things).

It’s just mystifying. I know that my emotional numbness comes from PTSD, but this? What is this?

I wish I could better explain all of this! Some of you must know exactly what this is like, though. No one is alone. I’m sorry, and yet I’m not. We’re unique, and yet we’re not.

On THAT note, please do enjoy a wonderful Friday Eve.

 

 

L’amour est bleu. (Fitness updates!)

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Today’s post is brought to you by a “fitness updates” request. It’s been a month since my last one, anyway!

In short and in summary, I’ll just say this: If you’re looking to start working out, consider trying a Les Mills group fitness class, if you can get to a gym that offers Les Mills classes. I’ve seen people of all ages and levels of fitness in those classes!

For the at-length, actual “fitness updates” version, I’ll start with…

Les Mills Body Pump (strength-training with weights): How about I think back on today’s class, just for fun? Our leg track was set to a song that’s also used in Body Combat, which is why I thought of Body Combat while doing squats this morning. It also came back to me how in the On Demand video, the male lead announces that his female co-lead is “the only monster on the stage,” and how I thought this to be an odd thing to proclaim. It’s definitely a strange remark to hear if you’re oblivious to the fact that the song’s refrain begins with “She’s a monster.” I don’t pay much attention to lyrics in these classes. Context is everything, right?

This morning’s chest track was a Guns N’ Roses song. [-nothing further-]

The back track was one I didn’t remember at all. From the music to the moves, I recognized none of it. It was like doing a new release back track! Loved it.

I’m unable to bring the triceps song back to mind, though I can remember the workout combination.

The biceps track was set to a song by Pink, whose songs in Body Pump challenge the part of my brain that finds the beats. I’m not sure why this is the case with Pink and only with Pink. It’s like her vocals are so powerful and independent, they leave the beats behind. I always pick up on them or sense the timing eventually, though. It happened to be easy today.

I don’t remember this morning’s lunge track song, but the workout involved a little plyometric action, which I enjoy.

And the shoulder track? It was that one with the French vocals, “L’amour est Bleu.” It’d been a while since we’d done that one, and it was interesting to revisit it after my weight increases. I could note how my shoulders have strengthened since the last time we did that track.

This brings me to the update part of the “updates”: I’ve increased some weights since my last fitness updates post a month ago. I’ve gone heavier on legs, back, and shoulders.

Body Pump’s effects are most notable to me in terms of strength, but clearly the workouts change your physique, too. When you turn around and catch someone staring at you as you’re walking away and he gets all flustered and says, “Nice backpack!” you know that there’s something other than your backpack going on back there. (Either that, or the car wash guy just really admires my backpack.)

[I just realized that my account of this morning’s class was more about the music than about the workout. Ah.]

Les Mills Body Combat (cardio kickboxing): I did this class at my (new) second gym for the first time last week. It was cool, literally. Between the superpowered A/C and a huge, noisy fan, the room was so chilled that I hardly broke a sweat! It was a good workout. It was a new release, so that’s always fun, but I must admit that I’m not going to be sad to say allez, au revoir to this release. To me, it’s death by mountain climbers, and that isn’t fun. Of all the moves I’ve done while working out EVER, mountains climbers are my least favorite. They’re great for conditioning, but UN-FUN.

Step + Abs (cardio/aerobic): I haven’t gone. The last step class I did was on March 17. I always intend to go, but there’s always something or other, and now it’s been five weeks since I’ve worked out on a Sunday! I only managed to make up for it once. Life has been happening, as life does.

And that’s okay. I’ll keep trying to get to Sunday morning step.

Even one workout a week would be better than none. 20 minutes of exercise (i.e. brisk walking) would be better than no minutes of exercise. File this in “habits worth developing.” Also, “things that are fun before we know it.”