I recently succumbed and joined the health club across the street in the [large banking corporate headquarters building]. This place is definitely a health club not a gym. It has carpeted floors, a lounge in the lockeroom, wooden lockers (and, for an extra fee they will take your sweaty clothes out, wash them and fold them up nicely and put them back in your locker), private showers with dressing rooms attached and flat screen TV’s on about every wall. It’s such a contrast to the sad little Army gym I used during my old job. No more sweaty soldiers grunting out their barbell presses, no more running into BAB and him telling me that I really should up my weights and do Spartacus with him in the morning.

I can’t even stand to be around you at work let alone do Spartacus with you. [Although, I did do Spartacus with him back when we were speaking and it was the only time he shut up.] I decided when a staph infection ran rampant through the gym and they closed it for a week that I was never going back. I would run in the meadow and brave the rattle snakes before I risked a staph infection. (I had 7 staff infections growing up and it’s a miracle I didn’t die.)

One of the perks for the health club is that they have classes during the afternoon around lunch. I frequently do the afternoon spin class. Yesterday, I think I overdid it, though. I woke up that morning feeling kind of blah. I felt fine before lunch and went over there for class. There were only three of us in the class yesterday. When the instructor was giving out commands like, “Ok, we’re going to do some hills, turn it up – 1,2,3,4 – UP – 1,2,3,4 – DOWN.” Meaning rise off the seat, sit down, and so on. I was getting a really good leg workout. I happened to look over at the woman beside me and she was sitting down, casually pedaling like she was out for a Sunday afternoon ride through the country. The next sequence we had to go between hovering over the seat, letting our legs do the work and standing up with even more resistance. I was starting to drip sweat. I looked over at the woman beside me again and she was still casually pedaling only this time eating a powerbar. Later, we went through an intensive hill climb and switching between hovering, standing and sitting and again looking over the woman was now slumped over the bars still casually pedaling.


Afterwards, I felt sick after drinking an entire bottle of water. I showered and went back to my office but didn’t eat anything because I still felt sick. I bought a fizzy orange flavored water and a Zero vitamin C water with electrolytes – I didn’t want to come down with anything before the trip. Ok, both the vitamin water and orange fizzy thing tasted like sh*t and I couldn’t finish either of them. I should have just stuck to orange juice but I didn’t think my stomach could take the acid. I went home that night and crashed after attempting soup. This morning I feel find – thank Goddess, because I don’t have time to be sick. I have to run to the grocery to get ingredients to make the cold salads we want to take on vacation. There’s packing and prepping and then, finally, we’re heading out – it can’t get here sooner.



sucking the oyster shell dry

“We’re doing The Walking Dead ride on Saturday, do you want to come?”

“I can’t, I’m working that weekend.”

Another friend, time, situation:

“That race we did last year that had the Red Stripe at the end is the last weekend in May do you want to do that again?”

“Let me see if I have to work that weekend. [Looking at my calendar] Yeah, I have to work.”

Working on the weekends always seems to be the story of my life these days. It was so different when I started teaching ten years ago. When I first started it was to earn some extra money and be around a bunch of motorcycle enthusiasts. I made friends of other motorcycle instructors and we used to go out after classes, have beers and laugh telling stories. I felt at the time I was helping people by teaching them to ride safely and responsibly. I thought it was my journey. Now, the stories are all the same and all my students seem to be in midlife crisis stage trying to fulfill a bucket list. I feel like I need to move on. I need another hobby or thing to do on the weekends that feeds my soul instead of sucking it dry.

If I take more time off I can ride more [especially, if we can get Charlie that Harley….], run more and just figure out something else I want to do in my spare time instead of babysitting a bunch of adults in the pouring rain – like I did all last weekend.

Any ideas, blogland?

in need….

….of a vacation.

Last weekend, I taught another class-from-hell. I haven’t had a class for almost a month and I still felt that I needed a break. I guess I’m getting used to having my weekends off. It always just makes me crazy when people come into the class and they’re 50,60,70,80-ish and never ridden before, want to learn to ride that weekend because they bought a 20k bike and are riding to Sturgis next week. Makes.me.CRAZY! To me it sounds like someone saying that they are taking guitar lessons all weekend and on Monday they are touring with Santana. When they realize that it’s going to take more practice than their old @ss physical and mental coordination can do in a weekend, it’s actually work and it’s no longer fun anymore and they realize that they are stuck with a very expensive motorcycle that they can’t do sh*t with then it’s bad times. Some get argumentative and we have to ask them to leave. Some start crying. Some just act like they took drugs at lunch and just drift around the range, riding so slow they can barely keep the motorcycle upright. This was last weekend. The lady seemed like she was on drugs and did the drift. I swear I’ve seen it all. I have another class this weekend and I hope it’s not like this last one. I will be ready for vacation after this.

All I want to be doing right now is sitting on a beach with a drink in my hand listening to the ocean. It’s seriously been too long since we took a vaca. Charlie and I are taking the new camper to Jekyll Island for Memorial Day weekend and it can’t get here soon enough. We’ve had the camper at the shop being serviced and it’s ready to be picked up. They had called and said, “You know, we had a heck of a time getting the door down, your cables need to be adjusted.”

I was like, “No sh*t, really?!!”

Excerpt from before:

“We should probably put the door down now.”

Side note #2 – the door will also be a mutha-f-er to put down if the trailer is not perfectly level. We were inside grunting like we were having massive sex trying to get that thing snapped in. We ended up having to lift the roof of the camper while sliding the door into the gap to tighten.

“One, two, three – LIFT! OOOOAAFFF, UUUUUGH, OH! Wait, I can’t get it. SHEEEEET!”

We went through this forever. Fortunately, the sites adjacent to us that had kids were off playing putt putt golf or something. My shirt was sticking to my back by the time we got that thing in.

“Damn, that was a BITCH! F-ing DOOR! “

“Hon, I’m sure it’s because we’re not exactly level is why the door wouldn’t just slide right in.” – in her mother-knows-everything voice.

Hopefully, we’ll be able to get the m-f-ing door down now without wanting to kill each other. And, the bimini shade-


-yeah, none of that this time. I bought us a 10×10 shade structure that is WAY easier to set up. That bimini shade is staying rolled up in its little case and not coming out to wreak havoc. And, we have a new porta-potty on the way so all the red cups are going to be used for is to drink beer out of.

We’re set!

Sunday, Charlie came up and met me after class and we went over to the Harley dealer. She wanted to ride a Sportster 48 and they were having a demo day. She rode it and then wanted me to ride it, too, to see what I thought. I’ve never been much of a Harley person (and, always hated those people who harped on them all the time) but this bike did ride nice – that is, once I got used to the foot position (of riding with my legs wide out like I was getting laid – maybe those Harley people are on to something….). I felt like I should have been wearing a black hoodie, leather vest and white sneaks like Jax on Sons of Anarchy by the time I parked and got off. It was nice but the price tag wasn’t. It’s going to take a while to afford that thing and I really don’t want to buy a new one and spend all that money on sales tax and depreciation. It almost goes against my nature to have a car or bike payment. I want to pay in cash with title in hand.

Well, that’s all I’ve got for now. Have a great week and you may or may not hear from me before vaca.



cinco de veggie

Happy Cinco de Mayo!

catsombrero (gimmie some fish tacos cuz Ima veggie-tarian)

Charlie’s been sick all weekend but I’m hoping she’ll be up for a margarita tonight. I think she wore herself out getting ready to have a co-worker over for dinner last Friday night. Friday, she ran around all day cleaning the house, grocery shopping and prepping for dinner and –

-we didn’t even invite the vegetarian.

I had been trying to schedule dinner with an ex-coworker and her partner for quite some time. Honestly, it’s been a hassle and they just live not more than a mile up the road from us. Somehow they are determined that a Friday night dinner is the only thing that will work for them even though I’ve said several times of just meeting for a quick drink in the neighborhood because Charlie and I are always up for that if we’re available. (And, they do drink). Friday I had double booked us to going out and having dinner with them and Charlie and I having a co-worker of hers over for dinner. So, I decided to make it simple and invite my party over for dinner – that way it would kill two birds with one stone. It turned out they don’t eat bird which is a tragedy because Charlie was making her famous Chicken Cutlet Parmesan. Right after texting if they could come over for dinner and they accepted my friend wrote:

“Just to let you know Jill is a vegetarian but hates people to go to extra effort for her so don’t sweat it. If there’s any kind of veggies or whatever with the meal she will be fine.”

You know I hate it when people say they’re vegetarians and put it right back on you of “don’t go to a lot of trouble.” Ok, if you don’t want me to go to a lot of trouble then stay the f*ck home. I mean, what am I going to do? Look like a bad host and not have anything for my vegetarian guest to eat and look like an @ss?

I texted back, “Can Jill eat tomato sauce as long as it doesn’t have meat in it?”

“Only if it’s pureed she doesn’t like chunks of tomatoes. But, she loves salmon, tilapia etc.”

Ok wasn’t asking about fish, wasn’t planning on fish and aren’t going to change the menu because she will only eat fish…..

“Will Jill eat squash, zucchini and mushrooms?”

“She will but doesn’t like mushrooms but that’s ok she’ll pick them out.”

Wtf, is she one of those vegetarians that only eat spray cheese and wonder bread, I thought. I just love people who say they’re vegetarians but hate all veggetables.

By this time I was losing my patience. Honestly, if we’d had a little more time to plan this out it would have been a lot less stressful but it was last minute, Charlie had already bought all the ingredients and the whole meal was changing. Charlie was getting more stressed out by the moment of trying to prepare the meal without mixing something this Jill person didn’t like or couldn’t eat. I finally bailed on them the next day and said I was sick and could we take a rain check on dinner? It was just turning out to be too stressful and a dinner among friends shouldn’t be. (We do have other friends who are vegetarians who arn’t pains in the @sses that we’ve been able to accomodate just fine. I mean really they should have said, “Let’s do dinner another time when we can go out to eat and y’all won’t have to worry about what Jill does and doesn’t like.”

“Sure hope you feel better. Let us know when we can reschedule. We could go out to eat or we could do dinner at our house as well.”

Somehow, I don’t see dinner in the future for us since it’s been such a nightmare planning it. I just don’t think it’s meant to be.

In light of that, we had a great time with Jess, Charlie’s co-worker. She loved everything we served including the margaritas.

Saturday, Ellen came by and picked us up to go to a race we were running. It was a 5k we’d signed up for just because it had a great t-shirt.


Afterwards, we ate donuts on the way home and Charlie and I ran errands. Sunday, Charlie came home from work not feeling well and I went for a long bike ride. I took the speed bike and got a great workout in. This morning I rode to the train station – something I’ve been wanting to do for a while but never could get my lazy @ss out of bed.

Sadly the weekend was over before we knew it and I’m not off until it’s time to go here.