Pretty Sure 'Big Sandy' was the clincher....

When you go through high school and college we tend to have a “group” of friends.  As life goes on and we have to start our adult lives some of those friendships taper off and you begin to meet new people through whatever avenue – jobs, family, hobbies, etc. 

And if you’re really lucky you keep those old friendships through all of the new stages of your life. 

I’m sure the first time we met it was probably through school.  We lived in the same town, grew up in the same school district.  But we really became friends through church. 

We can be complete opposites at times.  She’s super responsible – I suppose because when you’re a wife and a mom you have to be.  I’m not a wife or mom so responsibility can go by the wayside now and then.

She’s also one of the funniest people I know. 

On this, we have our strongest bond.  We both love to laugh and find things appropriate and not so appropriate so hilarious sometimes we just can’t take it.  There have been many a times where we’ve gone into fits of giggles when even the people we’re with have no idea what is going on.

She was my roommate at youth camp every summer during high school.  The stories we told late at night or the giggles that came with it or the story of “Big Sandy” that we made up when we found out an inmate from a mental hospital had escaped nearby were of legend.  We would wake up half terrified/half hoping he would be propped up on the roof outside our window because how cool of a story would that be?

We’ve been through life’s hardest times together too.  She’s the first person I called when after years of battling a brain tumor with my mom – life decided to be extra special and we found out she had breast cancer too.  I’ll never forget her words to me on that phone call:  “I’m so sorry.  I guess now we have to wear pink?”  Then we laughed.  Because we had always discussed how the “pink” cancer gets so much more attention than the others.  Life’s big joke was now on me….and she understood it perfectly.

I’ve seen her go through her hard times too.  How strong she was sitting on a waiting room floor all night while her husband was in a life-saving surgery.  How she never left his side in the months of recovery after.  How she continued to love him through it.  How they continue to make such a full life for themselves perhaps because of that night.

These experiences are why we both understand the need for dark humor – because sometimes you’re just all cried out and that’s all that is left.

I heard her son’s first cries when she called us in the hospital waiting room right after he was born.  I was witness to her and her husband giving him his first bath that night.  And, I adore that her daughter may look like her Daddy but has the precociousness of her Mother.

We know that even when life gets in the way and so busy that sometimes we forget the important things, that we can always circle back to our friendship for respite and things are exactly as we left them. 

For this, I am forever thankful.

Funny, beautiful, kind, hard-headed, has the strength of 10 thousand angels, and today she’s finally as old as I am.

I’ve decided I’d like to be her when I grow up.

Happy Birthday sweet friend – I love you!  

Hills, and Grief, and Clouds........and Sunshine.

I just adore my neighborhood.   Made up of steep hills, towering trees, and large wooded lots…..It’s an old neighborhood of ranch houses all built in the 50’s.  Now, what a single girl, not yet 30, was thinking when she bought a large house for her and her 8 lb dog, I don’t quite remember, actually.  But I love it anyways.

There’s a terrifying steep hill on one of the streets that even when you take it in the car you sometimes wonder if you’re just going to slide slowly backwards.  On the occasional times that I walk in the neighborhood, I always purposely avoid it because 1) I’m just not that sure I wouldn’t die or injure myself somehow 2) I’d be mortified and never leave my house again if someone witnessed me going out like that.  It’s how my mind works.

It’s a fairly quiet neighborhood with the occasional welcome sounds from the neighborhood kids playing basketball, or street hockey, or riding their bikes.  Especially on days like today. 

Perfect weather here today in Dallas, Texas.  If you’ve ever lived here for any amount of time you know we can go from ice to 80 degrees all in a 24 hour period.

And for those of us that have lived our entire lives in this fair city, we KNOW when the jig is up.  THIS weekend is the one we have to cherish.  It’s the one where we should go do ALL THE THINGS we can outside because it’s our last bite of Spring weather….and we’ve barely even begun the season.  We KNOW that this is our last taste before things start to burn like hell-fire.  Where we put on that cute sundress and flip-flops and have the perfect make-up and hair and then we go outside and proceed to sweat in places we never knew we could.  The makeup runs, the hair explodes, and we completely forget how much we prayed for warmer weather during this last winter.

So, today was one of those last days to be enjoyed, yet mine started out like one of a depressing winter season.

I couldn’t bring myself to get out of bed.  Up at 5am with the mind just spinning all sorts of thoughts and bemoaning the fact that I had a 9am training session.

So I sent a text and canceled.  I let the dark win.

I’ve yet to receive a response from Mr. Trainer.  The silence is deafening.  And, I know he’s disappointed, but not nearly as much as me.

After falling back asleep off and on for a few more hours, I finally faced it.

I can feel it starting to happen again. 

The dark cloud of depression that starts to approach.  It’s a cloak that if you even begin to entertain the thought of wrapping yourself in it, it takes that one shot and grabs you by the throat.  And you never can really put your finger on what makes it appear.  It just does.

But, this time it was different.  You see, when you go through dark times like that – you rarely ever know you’re in it until it’s so out of control you can’t even put one foot in front of the other.  

This time it screamed at me.  A thousand sad thoughts, all in my voice of course, telling me how I’ll never change.  How I’ll never succeed at becoming healthy like I want.  How I’ll never figure out what I’m supposed to DO with this writing thing.  How I’ll never find someone that appreciates me just for what I am and not what I can give them. 

It was LOUD, and I heard it and recognized it.  Like an old lover, sometimes we run back because it’s familiar.  It’s what we know.  And that dark is not nearly as frightening as the one we don’t know.

THAT is the difference, this time.  I’ve come to know myself enough to listen to it.  And to know that the power to change it is all me and no one else.

It’s not Mr. Trainer’s responsibility to beg me to show up.  It’s not my friend’s responsibility to just know when I need to get out of my house.  It’s not my family’s responsibility to come rescue me.  Even IF every single person in this category would, it’s not on them.

The responsibility lies with me.  And I owe it to myself to show up for life.  To show up for who I WILL be, so help me.

These spurts of depression or thoughts of failure are kind of like marks in a grieving process.  Grief is dealt with in so many different ways and certainly never have set timelines. 

It may sound strange to some, but I think in all of this change for me I’m grieving.  Grieving for the loss of what I once was…..even if that Old Hag needs to get gone……it’s what I know.  It’s also grief for allowing so much time to be lost while being that person.  And fear for the unknown of what I have in front of me to get to the person I want to be. 

Again, there lies the difference.  I’m listening to my heart and doing something about it….and recognizing why this time.  The grieving process is not over.  And it won’t be the last time that ugly cloud tries to approach.  But, my heart is louder and my head is getting stronger.

So, I got out of bed, put one foot in front of the other.  Made some scrambled eggs…..cuz protein, protein, protein!  Put on some shoes and began to walk.

I needed air.  I needed this beautiful weather and our dear city’s last taste of Spring.  I needed to show up for myself.

So I walked.  Up and down those steep streets, dodging the neighborhood kids on their bikes, watching them laugh and fight over a basketball game, waving at the old man who sits on his porch all day.

And then came THE HILL.  I did what I always do and started to make a turn to avoid it, but then I stopped.

I could easily have gone the other way and still have accomplished what I came to do.  I got myself outside, I got some exercise, and I breathed the fresh air.  I certainly didn’t HAVE to take the hill to prove something.  There wouldn’t be anyone to see unless I did something monumentally stupid.  Because there’s always someone there when that happens.

So, why couldn’t I move?? 

Y’all, I have NO idea why.  Nor do I know what possessed me to start moving again.......in the direction of the hill.

So, Mofabulous, did you walk the hill or not?

Nope.

I RAN THAT BITCH.

#cuetherockymusic

Mofabulous: 1   Hills and Dark clouds: 0

Conversations with Mr. Trainer: He apparently thinks he's paid to play Matchmaker

So, I know that because of my posts most of you think that every session is all empowering and encouraging and stuff.  There are those….but, really the ones that get me through are the funny and normal conversations that happen.

Tonight, I happened to take the elevator up to the gym with a guy that I recognized comes to the gym regularly and the Front Desk guy, Jason.  Jason and I talk from time to time and he’s a very likeable, easy going guy so we proceeded to talk in the elevator.

Then the other guy said a few things to me that I honestly don’t really remembered.  I smiled, said a few benign things back and then proceeded to check things on my phone and carry on a short convo with Jason.

 So, we get off the elevator.  Regular gym guy proceeds ahead and I hear this from Jason:

Jason:  “So are you always a snob or is this just that kind of a day?”

Me:  “Huh?”

Jason:  “He was clearly trying to flirt with you and you acted like you were just too busy to notice.”

Me:  “ What?? He was NOT.  Really.  He was just making conversation in an elevator.”

Jason:  “ Ok, so you’re clueless then.  Good thing I like you.”

So then, I began my thrice weekly training session with Mr. Trainer and about halfway through while I’m doing some weird contortion on a mat….enter Jason.

Jason to Mr. Trainer:  “Your girl here was being hit on in the elevator earlier with the red shirt basketball guy and stuck up her nose at him.”

Mr. Trainer (while looking over at the basketball court):  “Him?  Really?  Mofabulous….were you being snooty?”

Me:  “ I WAS NOT.  And He was NOT flirting.”

Jason:  “Yep.  He was.  He even tried to make a joke.  Not a good one, but an ‘A’ for effort.”

Mr. Trainer:  “ Well, I’ll bring her back to reality.”  Jason then goes on his way.

Mr. Trainer:  “ You know, you’re not a snob.  Why were you being one?”

Me:  “ FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY.  He was NOT flirting.  He was just being nice.”

Mr. Trainer:  “Nope, if another guy picks up on it he definitely was.  You really didn’t notice?”

Me: “No, I just don’t ever assume that.  I’m used to being the ‘We Gotta Go Girl’  It’s what I know.”

Mr. Trainer:  “Huh?”

Me: “The ‘We Gotta Go Girl’.  You know, the sidekick of the really cute friend – and I have A LOT of them -  that gets hit on all the time.  The guy knows if he doesn’t keep the sidekick happy by conversation or drinks, he’s gonna lose his prospect because when the ‘We Gotta Go Girl’ says it’s time to go…..then they go.”

Mr. Trainer:  “Ok, I’ll give you that.  It IS a thing.  But, you’re telling me you don’t even know when someone is actually zeroed in on you?”

Me: “Nope.  It’s a rare thing, so I’m pretty much clueless on it.  ESPECIALLY 60 pounds ago.  I need a sign or something that spells it out.”

Mr. Trainer: “Ok.  I’ve decided I’m going to set you up with basketball guy, or someone else here.”

Me: “Oh no you will NOT!  I hate dating.  It’s too much like a job interview.  And everyone here is way too pretty.”

Mr. Trainer: “Pretty?”

Me: “Yes, Pretty.  I’m surrounded by beautiful men that most of them I have come to adore, but you’re all a little pretty to me.  And you KNOW how much of a klutz and awkward I am when I’m not nervous.  

Imagine how I am when I’m supposed to put on some kind of a date show and try to be normal.  I’ve been there.  So.Not.Cool.”

Mr. Trainer: “But it would be good for you!  You’re fun…..and funny…..and live an interesting life.  And you can be seriously cute even when you’re all frustrating and being ridiculous.”

Me: (While looking at him like he has 3 heads) “ First, I’ll say, I really wish I had the hots for you and didn’t love your girlfriend so much.  GOD, some people have all the luck.  Second….no.  I’m not looking for that drama.  I’ve got too much crazy just with me right now, I don’t need to add that.”

Mr. Trainer:  “Whatever.  I’ve now made it my personal mission to send you on a date and make you dread every second.  You need it.  Life is not the tidy scene you like to make it seem.”

Me:  “Just. STOP.”

Lord help me.  Seriously.  Because when that man gets an idea in his head – he doesn’t even think about the wrath that will come from it.  Have they created a wine delivery service yet?  Because, I’d do a million Burpees just to enjoy it.

And I will say, this is just one of the MANY things that come with this journey.  When you begin to feel strong and start to get a smidgen of your confidence back.  Things happen and people (guys) start to notice.  And it's weird.  And I'm trying to figure it out little by little.  Again.....Lord help me.  Seriously.

They say....if it doesn't scare you, then your dreams aren't big enough. Well......ok then.

I remember years ago having fantasies about being a writer and running away to a secluded cabin somewhere because obviously writers are tortured souls that need complete solitude to hone their craft, right?

In my head it was a cottage in Ireland.

Set amongst the lush green hills it was tiny, but was all mine for those few months.  There was a flower garden to the side that I would pick from to keep in old glass bottles in each room.  A battered, but sturdy porch on which I would sit for hours writing the next bestseller whilst the birds chirped and the breeze blew.  And, of course, I would wave at the little old lady that would walk past said cottage at the same time every day to make her trek to the market.

As you do.

Then life happened and years went by and sometimes, if you don’t keep your focus on the things your heart whispers to you then time inevitably silences them.

And then life happens again and things start to go terribly wrong.  Somewhere, somehow, you made a wrong turn and didn’t realize it until it was almost too late, but because you were thrown a life preserver in the form of people or just the realization that you simply could not go on that way anymore you muster up a tiny bit of strength to find the right path again.

You find that the new path can still be heartbreaking because you’re more aware now than you’ve ever been about how things affect you and perhaps why you make the decisions you do. 

But, it’s also beautiful.  It’s a place that you discover all these new things in your world.  Things your mind or heart somehow refused for you to see before. 

You also find that the new path forces you to find an outlet for this new journey of yours.  For some it’s regular conversations with friends to vent or a new hobby or a $200 an hour therapist.   To each his own.

For me, it’s writing.  It’s my therapy.  I have ideas that rush in my head all the time.  Life is also just plain funny and sometimes you just need to share.  When I get a “post” in my head it drives me nuts until I get it out.  And sometimes I re-read it obsessively even after I’ve hit the publish button.  Others I don’t dare read again because it physically hurts to much.

Either way, every time I put something out there I feel like another tiny part of me has healed.  Another raw edge has smoothed out.

I want to write.

Those four words are faint whispers that have echoed in the far away corners of my heart for a very long time.  Longer than pretty much anyone knows.  And quite honestly it puts a lump in my throat so huge I have a very hard time understanding it.

I know what you’re thinking……”Um, pretty sure you’re writing now.”  Yeah, I get that.

You see, I went “away” to college for my Freshman year not having a clue of what I wanted to do.  Of who I was supposed to be.  Because of that, I was promptly sent home a year later because I just didn’t care.  (Had loads of fun though, but those are stories for another time.)  Why in the world am I going to school if I don’t know what I’m doing here? 

And then by fate, I found my current profession and spent my twenties exposed to things that people even decades into their career don’t get to experience. 

I’m grateful for my job and the experiences it brings me.  And damn good at it too.  Most days I even love it.

But then comes that whisper again.  And it’s getting louder.  And it completely terrifies me.

I have absolutely no idea what to do with it.  I mean, of course, I did what any smart person in this day and age would do and googled, “How to be a writer.”  Duh.  But that brought on a whole lot of stuff that’s hard to process.  I don’t do well with being told “what” to do.  If it feels like work I’m likely not to touch it.

So, what DOES this all mean? 

It means I’m still searching.  It may mean that all I’m meant to do is keep pouring my random thoughts into this blog to share with its 5.3 readers.  And I’m ok with that most of the time.  But the whispers keep coming.

All I know is I can’t ignore the whispers anymore even if they send my stomach into knots and my heart into palpitations and my soul into a gut-wrenching fear. 

Dramatic?  Maybe….but that’s how I imagine it would be written.

I have some ideas so I’m going to chew on them.  It’s just another lesson in life where I’m learning to enjoy the journey and not batter it with too many questions.  I’ll just have to see where it goes. 

Thanks for hanging in with me.

Oh…..and if you happen to have a tiny cottage in the middle-of-nowhere-Ireland to rent.  Keep it open for me, will ya?  I might just need a place to figure this out.

Conversations with Mr. Trainer: It's not always Sunshine and Rainbows

So, the last month or so have been tough.  I’ve said before it’s all a mind game and that has been proving itself over and over to me lately.  I get incredibly frustrated with myself because I’ve come SO FAR!  Why in the world am I doubting that I can’t go all the way?

I read somewhere that success is not about flying forward.  It’s about moving forward, taking a few steps back, then making the choice to try, try, again.  I should probably tattoo that somewhere as a reminder, le sigh.

You see, I’ve felt defeated for some reason or another.  I have back issues and it’s been killing me lately.  I can’t make one single move without feeling it.  We’ve done massages, stretching, Chiropractors, and have made the foam roll my best friend even if when I do it the tears won’t stop due to the pain.  It’s frustrating to hurt so much because you start to think your body is failing you.  It is getting better though…..just not overnight.  It’s all a process. 

So, tonight….as Mr. Trainer does in his usual matter of fact no drama way, reminded me again.

He was having me do this thing on the treadmill.  It’s weird.  You’re kind of running, hopping?, skipping? Sideways.  I pretty much hate it.  I know it’s to get your heart rate up and do something or another….I don’t usually ask because I’m usually just hoping I don’t die while doing the things he makes me do. The tricky part is having enough coordination to switch sides without flying off said treadmill and becoming a famous youtube video.  So while I’m doing this he starts talking:

Mr. Trainer:  “Ok, We’re going to talk about this.”

Me: “Ok…..about what?”

Mr. Trainer:  “You’ve been all EMO and weird the last few sessions.  I’ve had to remind you to smile…..and it’s like pulling teeth to get you to talk.  And you CAN TALK, help us all.”

Me:  “Oh, I’m fine.  Just a lot on my mind.” 

Mr. Trainer:  “Fine.  Since you’re so full of information, I’ll ask……how’s the weight?”

Me:  “You probably shouldn’t ask me that.”

Mr. Trainer: “Nope – you know I don’t push if I REALLY see you can’t or won’t talk about it.  You know the rules.  We’re completely honest here.”

Me:  “  Are you sure you’re ready for the honest answer?”

Mr. Trainer:  “You’d have to do an awful lot for that.  Talk to me.”

Me: (Eye roll, of course.)  “  3 pounds.  GAINED.  It’s just that I’ve been trying to really enjoy life and get out of my house and do things.  I spent most of last year holed up in the house refusing to see or do anything.  So I’ve been having fun.  But….I’m so tired of hurting.  And WHAT IF I FAIL?  What if I go back to where I was before?  I’ve made this whole journey a THING.  People are watching.  I HATE disappointing people. “

Mr. Trainer: “Ok, out of the last month of feeling like this how many workouts have you missed?”

Me: “Two.”

Mr. Trainer:  “So you feel like S#@^, and you’re still here?  Only missing two in the last 30 days?  You’re showing up.  Whether it’s for me or not.  You’re here and doing everything I ask.  How many times do I have to tell you.  The WORK isn’t your problem.  It’s the confidence.  Once you finally get mostly over that it’s all gravy.  What in the world do I need to do to show you that you have got it in you to do this?  Forget about everyone else.  At the end of the day it’s you that you have to please.”

Me:  (Sigh)  “Just exactly that.  You get it.  I know.  Ok.  I guess I needed to just….I dunno.”

Mr. Trainer:  “Ok.  By the way……do you remember the first time I had you do this exercise?”

Me:  “Yeah – I’d rather not.”

Mr. Trainer:  “You held on to the treadmill….and my right arm the whole time like you’re life depended on it.  Had me turn it off to switch sides…..and then did the same for the other. This time?  You did it one-handed, double the speed, and carried on a whole conversation.”

Me:  “Huh.”

Mr.  Trainer:  “We’ve got this.  You will make it further than you ever imagined.  And I can’t wait to celebrate it with you.”

I don’t have many other words to say…..but I thank everyone on God’s green earth for cheering me on along the way.  I’m not ashamed to admit that I need it and listen to them when I don’t believe in myself.

So, I left tonight feeling encouraged.  Or empowered.  Or however Oprah would have you think it.  I have so got this you have no idea.  It will never be perfect.  But I have to believe it’s worth it.   

Happy Siblings Day! Who gets to make up these "National Days" anyway?

You know that one person in your life?

 

You know…..the person you have that if you somehow unexpectedly meet your Maker it’s an unspoken understanding that you can count on them to come to your house and get rid of anything that might be embarrassing or make your parents cry?  YEAH.  That one.  (Come on….you know there’s stuff.)

For me, that person is Baby Sister.  

Susan Sarandon had a quote in the movie ‘Shall We Dance’ that said:   

“We need a witness to our lives. There's a billion people on the planet... I mean, what does any one life really mean? But in a marriage, you're promising to care about everything. The good things, the bad things, the terrible things, the mundane things... all of it, all of the time, every day. You're saying 'Your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go un-witnessed because I will be your witness'.”

I think the same goes for siblings.  They have been one of the few that are a witness to your entire life.  

Those that know both Baby Sister and I personally can testify to the fact that you won’t find two people more opposite than us that came from the same parents both physically and in personality. 

She was born bald and turned into a blonde.  I came out with a head full of coal black hair. 

She measures over a half a foot taller than me.  I can’t even reach the top of my middle kitchen cabinet.

She is soft hearted, slow to anger, and always tries to see the good in people.  I’m more…..well, let’s just say I DO have a big heart….it’s just that sometimes you have to take a pick ax to the rock that’s formed around it. 

I remember our parents saying once about those pesky teenage years they would worry about Baby Sister getting into trouble by falling into the wrong crowd…..and they would worry about me leading the wrong crowd.  Yeah…….I get that.  Alas, we made it through mostly unscathed.

Whenever I have a big revelation in life or have quiet fears that are hard to express or just have something so flipping funny happen that I just have to share, you can pretty much guarantee that I’ve mentioned it to her.  Part of that’s because I know I can count on her to be honest in her opinions, but the other part is I know she’s one of my biggest cheerleaders and will be behind me no matter what.

We BOTH love to laugh…..in fact, we are known for being a little akin to the Salem Witches in that we rarely make it through a prayer before family dinner without finding something to laugh at.  And church??  Don’t get me started.  Something ALWAYS happens to set us off and we have to exert uber amounts of control to not embarrass our Grandmother. 

When I look back on my biggest moments thus far in life we were in most of them together.  The happy and the sad.  Weddings, funerals, divorce, hospital waiting rooms……and of course, her giving birth to the GoldenChild. 

Now, don’t misunderstand me.  Things aren’t always sunshine and rainbows.  Sisterhoods can be brutal too.  We know exactly what buttons to push to get a desired outcome. 

If you don’t understand how you can love someone so much it physically hurts but want to slap them silly at the same time…………..then you must not have grown up with a sibling of your own because that’s exactly how it is.

No matter the differences though, I am so thankful I get to call her mine.   It’s a lovely thing to have someone in your life who knows exactly what you’re thinking without having to say it.  Who with one look, you know they understand.  Someone who knows all of your faults but loves you anyways.

I will never forget her exact words to me when she called to say that our Mom was taken to the ER via ambulance: “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m all alone.  I need you to be here.”

Those words are what I think defines having a sibling. 

You go through the sad, happy, silly, funny, terrible times that life will inevitably bring you.  But because you have them, you never have to go through it alone.

You have a witness.  A friend.  Your very own personal Cheerleader. 

And of course………..someone to hide the embarrassing stuff.

Conversations with Mr. Trainer: The Day I was called an Athlete and lightening did not, in fact, strike him down

So…..Mr. Trainer has now gotten it into his head that he needs to switch things up to start challenging me more so he took me into the “tire and battery” shop aka the crossfit like room……this is how it went down tonight:

Me: “What in the world is all of this?”

Y’all there were ladders laid out along with the mats, ropes, step-ups and all sorts of shenanigans.

Mr. Trainer:  “Well….you, my dear, are becoming an athlete so it’s time to step up our game.”

Me: “BA.HA.  You went to Happy Hour early didn’t you?”

Mr. Trainer:  “Look at me…..is this my sarcastic face?  You know very well that I’m serious.  You’re doing things now that a lot of people in this gym can’t.”

Me: “Whatever….we’ll see about that.”

So then he takes me through some ridiculous drills that in my head I know would make a FABULOUS SNL skit…..because I can actually see myself in the mirror and it ain’t cute.  Then he gets down on the mat to show me what he wants me to do next.

Y’all.  It was a side plank with a notsolight weight in the free hand that you actually have to lift while balancing in said side plank position…..make sense?  Yeah – me neither….but apparently it’s supposed to help your coordination and strengthen that fancy core everyone loves to talk about.  I just think it’s something that trainers must do to people because they’re in desperate need of entertainment.  Whatevs.

Me:  “HA!  You’re a funny guy.  No way in HayHay that’s gonna happen.”

Mr. Trainer:  “Would you just quit the sassy yappin’ and at least try it?  You can do a side plank like a champ….now we have to kick it up a level.”

Me:  “Ok….but I feel like I should give you Baby Sister’s phone number.  She’s my ‘In Case of Emergency’ because there are sure to be only bad things happening from here on out.”

Mr. Trainer:  “You’re allllllllll jokes tonight.  Now STOP STALLING.  It’s just you and me in here.  If it’s terrible no one else has to know.  You know I’ve got you.”

Me:  “Ok fine!  But you know no matter how it goes I WILL TELL because that’s how I deal.”

Mr. Trainer:  “GOD!  You’re such a girl.  STOP TALKING and JUST DO IT!”

Me: (Insert my most favorite eye roll here)

And then I got down on the mat…..and kind of rocked it.  SHOCKED is not an appropriate enough word here.

Mr. Trainer:  “Yeeeeaaaaahhhhh!  Ain’t got nothin’ to say now, huh princess?”

Me: “SHUT.IT.  What’s next?”

So……I’m not quite at athlete status yet.  But I WILL be so help me.  Just don’t count on me keeping my mouth shut.  Cuz I got lots to say and complain about y’all.  It’s just how I do.