First month into the new year, and I’m already creating a new version of me. Last time I wrote, I was pissed and angry and well, disgruntled. My weekend getaway in Long Beach turned out to be just the antidote I needed. Hanging with Pamela is like wearing pajamas– it’s just so easy, so comfortable, so great. We hit the ground running the night I flew in. Hit the supermarket on the way from the airport to her home (gotta squeeze in those errands!), hung a bit with her hubby, and then we headed out to a nightclub. Yup, totally anti-me, but what the heck? She wanted me to meet her friends and well, they wanted to go to a gay dance club. Let’s just say, the experience was majorly traumatic. I saw all kinds of crazy bumpin’ and grindin’. This was like ten times worse than watching Jersey Shore. And people wear the skankiest stuff and bust out the trashiest moves! Seriously, do I need to see you doing doggie-style on the dance floor???
I don’t dance, so I just sat at the table observing all this in utter horror. Fortunately, in my old age, I’ve grown more tolerant of uncomfortable environments. Had I gone to a dance club a year or two back, I would have been stressed out about being the one lame person sitting at the table not participating. But now that I’m mid-30s, it doesn’t bother me that much. They can go do their thing, and I’ll just watch (while maintaining composure) and just count down the minutes until the misery is over. In the older version of me, I probably would have gotten upset at Pamela too for subjecting me to this, but you know what? She’s had a rough year, and heck, the girl loves to dance. She should get her 2-3 hours of fun.
Btw, a woman tried to talk to me– she complimented me on my blazer, but then I responded in the most idiotic manner: “Oh thanks, it’s my mom’s.” I know, totally moronic, and if I were interested in someone and she responded with that? Loser! Ah well, it’s no surprise that I’m a dork. Just laugh with me AT me. See, while everyone was partying it up, my phone went off with an alarm for my calendar event: saline nasal rinse. Yup, that’s how fucking cool I am.
The next day, we had breakfast at an awesome little French cafe. I had a waffle Folle– a waffle with fresh fruit + Nutella. I’m telling you, that chocolate hazelnut spread is like my version of crack. It goes on everything, and I crave that shit every damn day. Maybe that’s why the pounds aren’t shedding despite 90 minutes of hot yoga three times a week. Whatever.
So yeah, breakfast was delish. Then we walked in the sunshine (85 degrees!!), got pedicures, walked around some more. Finished the day off with three games of bowling. So much fun. Turns out, her hubster grew up bowling with his dad and grandfather– played on the league and everything. I always love it when people reconnect with their childhood hobbies.
The final day (yes, I was only there two days), we hit Rancho Palos Verdes along the coast. Did a good bit of hiking in my ballet flats, of all things. But god, it was beautiful. Mind you, Pamela and I talked the entire time. Yup, we can talk forever.
After the hike, we went for the hard stuff: Blue Valentine. The movie was well done, but to my surprise, I hardly cried. And I found myself sympathizing with the husband. Argh! I sided with him, and so did Pamela. After I got home, I read a ton more reviews, and all the critics kept saying how you could see BOTH sides, and some even sympathized more with the wife. Wth? I always want to side with the woman, and yet this time… I didn’t see it. Did I not pick up on the subtleties? Ugh. I will have to watch it again. Sometimes I’m so clueless.
Since my return home from Long Beach, things have been better. John is really trying to be pro-active. He’s taking a stress reduction/meditation class, and he practices every day. He registered for a gardening class. He’s been trying all kinds of new recipes (again, thwarting all my hot yoga work), and he’s taking care of other house-related items– repairs, yard work. It’s a pleasant and welcome change.
I am back into my activities. Lots of shopping going on– online and otherwise. The sales are pretty good right now as stores make room for spring items. The usual suspects: BR, Target, Loft.
Tomorrow I have my self-defense class. Mind you, it’s just a one-timer for two hours, but I’ve always wanted to see what that’s about. I think I’ll learn something. Tuesday I’m taking a photography class– again a onesie for two hours. I guess I’m very noncommittal, except with voice lessons. Those start up next month and run for 16 weeks. I got a lot riding on these lessons, that’s for sure! 🙂
My yoga membership expires later this week, and I think I’m going to really try for my dancer’s body dream. Yesterday, I must have watched 15 clips with Tracy Anderson. I want to believe. I feel like yoga bulked up my shoulders/arms again. Maybe I’m paranoid but I dunno: I see what I see. I’m fascinated by Tracy’s lean and cut (yet tiny) body. Her boot camp in NYC is 3 hrs/day for 2 weeks. Sure, it’s THREE hours/day, but 2 weeks is practically no time! Obviously, I’m not doing the boot camp, but I might try some of her exercises and then hope for the best. 🙂 Guess that means I’m not really THAT dedicated. Just happy to change things up.
Version 3.0 is coming soon– maybe in the next quarter of 2011. I know, I’m going to have to curb the Nutella habit. 🙁