Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Inauguration 2009, Pt. 1

Fourscore and three donuts ago, a bunch o people schlepped themselves to our nation's capital to grab on to a little piece of American history. In case you live in a hole, we now have a black president. Other things to note, Chief Justice Roberts is not so good when put on the spot without note cards, and Rev. Rick Warren says Malia and Sasha like they are candy treats.

I too, was a schlepper. I joined a group of my girl buddies on a super dandy road trip to DC so that one day I would be able to tell my hypothetical children that I was there when a wall in the race barrier crumbled.
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Sometimes I forget that it wasn't so long ago that my own parents faced ignorance and hatred for daring to get married and create little Polipinos. It wasn't one-sided. Polish and Filipino alike wanted them to "stick to their own kind." In the hatemongers' defense, they did not know how awesome I would be or that one day I would witness history among a crowd of multicultural friends.
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Speaking of loving people for who they are, I have a confession. It's a big one. My friends will probably shun me, but in these days of hope and change and acceptance, I feel confident that one day I will be rewelcomed into the fold.

I didn't actually vote for Obama.

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Yep, that's right. I'm not sorry. I refuse to apologize. I get to use my vote however I want. Those ARE the rules. The truth is that I liked both candidates. I was on the fence even when I walked into the booth. My gut told me to vote McCain. I am pleased with our new president and am looking forward to what he may accomplish, but I'm not going to pretend that I've been on board the whole time. I support my president now, and really that should be enough. Sing it Pepsi.
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Monday, January 12, 2009

Polipinos in the Mist

A couple of months ago I decided to quit my whining and grab life by the balls. This Saturday was a testament to my efforts. It was the Snowman Shuffle. It sounds intimidating eh? Well, it is a four miler and like always, we had to walk half a mile just to get to the starting line. The forecast called for flurries and chilly weather, but when I hit my alarm clock and it said the temp outside was 45 degrees, I just laughed.

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When I walked out my door, I was shocked by the torrential downpour. The rain was coming in sideways. I was ready to crawl back in bed when I remembered that my friends expected me to be there. I hit Walgreens on the way in and grabbed a rain poncho, which is actually a glorified tent with a hood.
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You can see it here with me, Halladay Celebration and boot camp team captain Denise, who we ran into at the end of the race.

By the time I made it to Cherokee Park, it was basically mist. Although the weather had turned OK, the attendance at the race was pitiful. There were really only a handful of walkers. Most were hard core runners looking to make really good time due to the warm weather. I was told that this was the kind of weather(45 degrees and overcast) that records were broken in.

I knew I wasn't going to break any records, but I knew we showed up when most people rolled over and went back to sleep. It was just four of us in our little group. Harris Bueller, Halladay Celebration and Heidi, who has graduated from Norwegian Bikini Team Model to Life Coach. Bueller and Celebration pulled ahead since they are giants and couldn't help themselves. I told Life Coach it was OK to join them that I had music and I would be fine. She was having none of it. Secretly I was hoping I could just be alone so I could walk at a leisurely pace. Nope. Not gonna happen. Not on Life Coach's watch.

First she had me start with yoga breathing exercises to help keep my pace. She wouldn't let me talk while we were going up hills so I wouldn't die. Then she started calling out little jog spots. "We'll just jog between these two trees." The next thing you know we have jogged a good deal of the four mile journey. I couldn't believe it! She said "how do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time." Brilliant. We made it in about an hour. Not bad for a little Polipino.
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This is us after we watched a strange video tape and then the phone rang and then-oh you get it. Anyone else creeped out suddenly?

So I took Sunday off and ate like a Hoss. I'll attack my eating another day, but for now, I need to keep on the training schedule. Tonight it called for three miles. I really wanted to blow it off. I convinced myself that I would do one lap around our neighborhood which is 1.7 miles. I grabbed my new shoes and started to head out the door when my hubby said he wanted to join me. I knew then I was in for the full three miles.

Usually I have to strain to keep up with him, but with Life Coach's word rattling in my head, I started jogging in between trees. I know many of my less vertically challenged friends will find it amusing that Jeremy just had to widen his stride to keep up. Ah well, one bite at a time. One bite at a time.

Thursday, January 8, 2009

Pigeon Poster Child

Sometimes things make me laugh so hard that I need to call in back up. My friend Cari commented on yesterday's post that she got stuck in Pigeon Pose during yoga. Now if you are like me, you laughed out loud, fell on the floor and laughed some more. That was followed by a sharp inhale, followed by more laughter.
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For those who don't know, here is a picture of King Pigeon Pose. It is a little more advanced. You can do regular pigeon pose sitting up straight and not bending the other leg.
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But back to the task at hand. We are laughing at Cari. Just a little history for your pleasure. Cari and I were roommates in college. Some people golf. Some people collect stamps. My favorite hobby was to torment my dear roommate.
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Once I drove home early from vacation just to hide in our apartment and scare the crap out of her. I came home and heard her taking a shower. I tip toed to the bathroom, and scratched at the door. She yells out "Helloooo? Is someone there?" Silence. I did it again. "HELLO?!" I could hear the terror in her voice rising. She opened the door and stuck her head into the hallway with another whispered "hello?" I dove behind a wall and waited. When enough time had passed, I ran to the door and banged on it. She screamed so hard I think the neighbors heard. The quick pounding of her feet told me she was doing the girly scream dance on the other side of the door in the buff. That my friends, is what dreams are made of.
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I'm Gaia Nu Nu and my mom is mean.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Gonna Dress Me Up in my Love

When the new year rolls around, a lot of people get really excited and take the "glass half full" outlook on life. Not me. I'm wading around in a nasty puddle of blah. My good ol' insomnia tendencies have returned and now my husband says he "caught" my insomnia, like it is the plague. Well, to be fair, it is really close to the plague without all the fun bonfires and such.

I'm trying to attack it head on by looking at what I have coming up this year. First off, we are going to put a black man in the White House. I wonder if one day we'll put a Polipino in a tan house and raise little white children. See how it all comes full circle? Anyway, I'm going to the Bluegrass Ball which is supposed to be the shizzle. I, of course, needed a ball gown. Believe it or not, I didn't just have one handy, so I got one. Check it.
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I also found this little number.
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When I breath real hard, it looks like I'm smuggling midgets. What kind of crunches do you do to make your boobs smaller?

I have officially started to train for the mini marathon in April. I did two miles tonight before heading to my weight lifting class. This leads me to another thing I hate about the new year, people crowding the gym. I went right after work and I ended up with the treadmill in the cardio theater in the front row that wobbles back and forth. I couldn't tell if I was getting sick from the motion or the crappy Richard Gere flick they were torturing me with.

When I got to weight lifting class, I discovered that two holidays make the teacher store up torture. She was on fi-yah today. During the tricep workout, I actually thought I might drop the bar on my face. Oh well, it is all for the sake of looking pretty in my new dress, er, um, I mean health. Yes, for the sake of health.
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I am a puh-pay and I approve of this message.