The Seven Separations of Steph

This was a hard one.  I couldn't quite grasp what I wanted to say, yet I have so much to say.  In fact I was just looking at the pictures of last night and thought about just writing about that but something in my head kept saying no.  This blog has never been about a retelling of something (well, maybe a few.)  I strive to cut deeper; to synthesize, to analyze.  To bring it all together.  Then my a-ha moment came.  Sigh of relief.  Can I tell you; I have goosebumps writing this.  This could be the best one yet if I can pull it off.  If I don't, well you just wasted 5-7 minutes of your life reading it.

Happy Blog Birthday to Steph

Happy Blog Birthday to Steph

Fa la la la la la la la la!

(Had a to add some Christmas tunes to it.)

Yes readers, it has been an entire year of diarrhea of the mouth for me!  Just this week Cujo told me that she's getting all of her friends to read it; that I am now part of her morning routine.  She called it "the perfect balance of your career, personal life, music, training and fashion.  It's better than Carrie's on Sex and The City."  OMG, can you imagine if I had her wardrobe??  I told Cujo, "I really try to make it just me.  Like if you know me, this is exactly how I talk.  I try to be genuine."  Even Cressey said the other day, "That was a good Thanksgiving blog.  You know I should just link yours to mine."  Yeah, you do that muscle man. The "public" intention of the blog (go back in the archives and read the first one) was to journal my second marathon journey.  Okay, if we actually look back we will see that the majority of this blog is about everything else in my life except the running.  Those closest to me know the real reason; I was slipping away.  Losing my identity.  Questioning everything in my life.  I didn't know who I was, what I wanted, what I didn't want.  There was no light in my darkness.  It was kind of like I was bumping into things to try to find my way.  I decided to run the second marathon to help me get through this.  I have talked a lot about how I have thrown everything I have and then some into getting my act together.  I am at such a better place.  And my sincerest thanks to those in my life who never judged, always supported and had so much patience.  Thanks for meeting me for coffee and tears, telling me that if I needed anything just to ask,  spending hours on the phone with me, sitting in my car for hours of conversation and telling me "it's time to put your little black sandals on and figure out what you're going to do."  Extra points for those friends who could incorporate kick arse music and lyrics into the advice.

So I sit here ready to start training for marathon #3 tomorrow.  Tomorrow.  I have told everyone; "I really don't want to run this."  Of course people then ask "Why then?"  and I say; because it's expected of me.  But you know what Steph, that is a lousy answer.  So I really thought about it.  The first year I ran to see if I could do it, last year it was my life jacket so this year?  This year it's about trying to integrate The Seven Separations of Steph.

The what you ask?  I really thought about what Cujo said.  I have talked about all of the hats I wear.  Mother, wife, friend, teacher, athlete (and I use that term loosely), music addict and fashionista.  I could probably think of more but then it wouldn't be seven and that would ruin the entire alliteration affect of the title and we just can't have that.

It's hard wearing all of those hats.  I'm guessing that when I have one hat on and the other off that it is usually pissing someone in my life off or something or someone is not getting the attention that it needs.  I'm really going to try on wearing more hats than one.  To try to find a little more balance (which I suck at and was so apparent doing bowler squats on Saturday on my left side; totally sucked.)  I thought about this weekend and how these seven sides of me at times merged and at times collided.  Now comes lots of pictures and a video (totally going to do more video this year) to help illustrate my point.  This might get a little messy but please trust me; there is an end to this madness.

It all started with the bag.

Isn't it awesome?  Francesco Biasia.  And  love the fact that I'm wearing no make up, my Boston Marathon sweatshirt and fleece pants in this picture.  Way to make a statement Steph.  I walked into Nordstroms on Black Friday (what a stupid name when you think about it) and I heard heavenly music and the a light shone from above.  The color is fabulous.  This bag (which you cannot order in this color so few were made) has been called funky and functional (we'll get to that part in a bit.)  This is my Christmas gift.  But it is red and so why have it sit in a box when I could be working it this holiday season?  It's a statement bag.  It was also an investment bag.  I have been really good but the fashionista in me hadn't had that kind of reaction since I saw those Aquatalia boots last August.  I didn't even try to resist.  I just jumped right in.

So the bag?  Totally functional once you figure it out.  But it could take awhile.  Enter Steph the teacher and friend.  And I guess sort of athlete.  I have been working on this project for school and I won't get into the details now because I want to write about it when it all comes together and I'm not quite at the together point yet.  My friend and his friend (whom I had met a couple times before but now I love not only because he is incredibly gracious, authentic and driven but because when he got into my car and noticed the Barbie dvds and Pokemon cards on the floor asked, "You have kids?"  I said "You bet.  I've got two!"  And he says, "You've got two kids and you're still tiny.  Good for you!"  Seriously, he could have eaten with his hands, belched, called the waitress Kitty Cat all night and it wouldn't have mattered.  He was in in my book!)  and I went to dinner so I could interview them.  Of course, how can a Mexican go for mexican and not order a margarita so I do and I get carded.  No joke.  I look at the waitress like, "Are you serious?"  She says no, she needs to see my id.  I'm flustered and start to open my new bag and can't.  I really can't.  I have no idea how the hardware on this thing works.  So we keep talking to her ("Come on, how old do you think she is?  When you see how old she really is, you'll be impressed."  I would have kicked him after that dinosaur age comment but was still trying to hack open my bag.  Focus, Steph, focus.)  Finally I figure it out.  And people, I actually took notes.  I am dead serious about my teaching.  I mean how many people are kicking back at the bar, listening to a band and thinking, "How am I going to teach division this year?"  

I kid you not.  These are the things I think of.  That whole 7 Separation Piece thing.  I'll write more about the project later but I went home with this feeling of having been present in the beginning of something truly outstanding.  I warned Mr. Tiny (who is really SO NOT TINY) that I am not a hugger and if he ever tries it, well, I am sure my new bag works well as a bat.  Don't hug the munchkin.  Which is so weird because the very next night I went up and hugged someone I have only met twice.  OMG, what's happening to me?

So the next day Steph the athlete and mom did the santa thing and trained.  I was doing my overhead keg walks and I almost tripped over a rope.  My loving son yells across CP, "Mom if you die, can I have your iPhone?"  And he wore a beanie to train.  He is becoming one of them.  An intervention needs to be done before he walks around drinking green tea and eating cottage cheese and string cheese out of a container.  The mess in the family room that has been there for oh I don't know, 1 year, finally gets to me so I go on this cleaning rampage and start yelling to everyone, "If you don't pick this up it's going in the trash.  Adios Barbie head, Bumblebee, Luke Skywalker, Care Bear."  The screams were frightening.  Then I get the text.  Transition to friend.

Uh oh, FP is in need.  I have got to help her.  Aquaman loves FP and tells me to do whatever I need to do because, "I'm having a threesome tonight with Marisol and Samantha. 

 But we'll make room for you when you get home."  He really is getting funnier.  Here he is with his American Girls.  And The Celtics and yes readers I stopped the divorce proceedings because Aquaman actually saved some of our season tickets this year.  I've said it before and I'll say it again.  My hubby has a ton of patience with me.  He knows how important the kids, my friends, training and career are to me.  He knows I would be miserable if I weren't so busy.  But I think that's why he loves me; when he does actually get to see me, it's the Steph that few get to see.  Vulnerable me.  The Steph that needs to be held because she feels overwhelmed.  The one who will fall asleep drooling on him.  Now that would be good video.

Now strangely enough I had been listening to Mary J Blige all weekend long.  That girl can sing.  And she was just what FP needed.  I arrive at her apartment singing, "Aint gonna cry no more."  I also arrive as the designated driver, shoulder to cry on, cheerleader, bringer of booze.  In fact, I knew we were going out but literally threw my Land of Talk shirt (oh how they rock) and a sweater that was on the floor of my closet.  Typically when I go out, I leave a trail of strewn clothes.  Not tonight.  It was Operation Fritattata.  

Knowing how important music is, I decided to take her to The Skellig to listen to live music and drown her sorrows in beer.  The Darceymargaritas and I go sometimes so thought I would go with FP.  Her friend Joan, who is so great, was going to meet us there.  After one beer FP goes, "I need to eat.  I haven't eaten since noon."  Problem.  The kitchen is closed.  We go to the back room to listen to the band.   Okay, there are lots of young long haired chicks dancing in groups in their skinny jeans and heels stealing glances at the guys and FP and I look at them and both say the same thing, "They are not grown women" (reference there to a kick arse MJB song.)  Now I'm not sure if I would feel this way if I actually looked my age (ha, ha) but I find comfort in every year that I turn older.  When you are 37 and been through what I've been through, you quickly eliminate the games, drama, schemes.  You are just real.  So you've got to picture me hanging at the bar with FP, being very protective of her, there's these guys standing next to us who start talking to us with this gem, "Wow, there are lots of ladies here tonight without wedding rings."  The look on FP's face; priceless.  All of a sudden the lead singer who I've been making fun of all night in his WHITE jacket makes a bee line for me and starts singing to just me like in your face me, dancing down on me.  I'm thinking, okay, you picked the one chick who didn't give a rat's arse what she wore tonight, who is married and has kids and who was thinking of how she was going to teach division to her class while you were singing to come over and flirt with.  There were so many girls who kept trying to dance with him.  I guess what they say is true though, and to quote Morrissey here (the music addict taking over), "The more you ignore me, the closer I get."  Ooh, haven't listened to that one in awhile, just a sec, let me go put it on.  Here we are at the bar.

So we're hanging out and having a good time; lead singer boy even came over to us during the intermission to give us a flier.  Okay, thanks now adios!  Can't he see my focus needs to be on Fragile Fruity who actually was looking pretty good.  But starving.  I am suddenly greeted by someone I have just met in the past couple of weeks and always in gym clothes so I didn't register who he was in real people clothing until he got really close and said, "I know you!  What are you doing here?"  And then the inexplicable happened.  I hugged him.  Why?  I honestly don't know.  Maybe because I was so relieved I recognized him and remembered his name?  He was there with someone I hadn't seen in over a year.  A reunion!  I love reunions.  It was great catching up with and he tells us they're going to get food and do we want to come.  Fruity nods her head in her now near catatonic state.  All 6 of us jump in my car.  6 of us.  The reason I bought the X5 is because it has a third seat but did any of us think to put the third seat down?  No!  

The rest of my night included ordering multiple extra value combo meals at the drive through at Wendy's (I don't think anyone understood why I was cracking up so much when I was ordering.  There is only one person who would crack up at that one.) some Wild Turkey, being told my musical taste sucks because I don't have The Scorpions, watching a Jean Claude Van Damme film and getting a text that I still don't quite understand about Panera Bread.  Hey Fruity, you think Panera sells Fritatatas?  Readers, you are going to hear a lot of fritatata references.  I apologize now.  Okay, I just got an email from EC that I wish I could share but you know I just can't.  EC can be funny, dorky funny a lot of the time but lately he has been on fire.  Like, this is something I would have said.  Way to go Cressey!

I didn't get home until 2:00 and walked into my bedroom to find those hoes Samantha and Marisol in my space.  Thank goodness their clothes were still on!  I awoke at 7:00 this morning my stomach in knots about all of the work I had to do.  I spent my morning as teacher correcting, planning and writing.  I go running (psuedo athlete there), go to the grocery store, play with the kids.  Then enter the Annual Why do you make the Jewish guy deal with the Christmas tree saga.  It was a teacher, mom, wife, runner kind of day.

Every year we get our Christmas tree on the Sunday after Thanksgiving.  It's what my family did.  Every year, the weather totally sucks.  Look how cold mini me and me look.

 One year the tree fell of the car.  Every year Aquaman is in charge of the tree.  And whines and whines about it.  We get the tree.  He sends us up to the living room to get ready for it.  The plan is that he and Drew are going to bring it up.  What you are about to see right now is what happens to you if you are almost 10 and your father drops the "f bomb" a little too frequently, actually not true, drops the "fake f bomb."

Thankfully the battery in the camera died so you could not then hear what came out of my mouth to scold Drew about what came out of his.  Mini me says of this video; "That is the funniest 5 second video ever Mom!"

So as you can see, the seven separations of me kept colliding with each other all weekend.  Different personas took the reign at different times.  I guess the point was to see how much I enjoyed wearing all of those hats.  I would never give up any of them.  They are what motivates my words, thoughts and actions.  I am cognizant of the fact that I don't have your "typical life."  How boring would that be?  I just hope that my family, friends, colleagues and students realize that I feel so passionate about the roles I play in their lives.  Expending my energy, creativity and self on the things I love most in this world is the greatest feeling and one that I don't plan on cutting back on.  Just trying to figure out how to do it better.  And I have 18 long runs to figure just this out.  To another year of simply being me.

Testosterone, Training, Talk and Turkey; My Thanksgiving Thursday

BEWARE; THIS IS KIND OF LONG BUT HAS LOTS OF PICTURES!

This is not my holiday. Look at last year's Thanksgiving entry; I said the same thing.  And even though I was smiling in the picture, I had probably been crying in the bathroom beforehand.  I was a complete mess this time last year.

I am happy to say that I am not the mess that I used to be.  Sure, I've got issues but they don't weigh me down like they used to.  I got my inner smile back.  I can feel again.  Which is why I was so perplexed why I was in such a horrible mood yesterday afternoon.  I actually kept yelling to myself in the car, "Snap out of it Steph." Then like always I felt so incredibly stupid when my a-ha moment comes; this was my mom's holiday. 

Last night I was going to blog about how much I dislike Thanksgiving.  How I was so sick of everyone around me being so thankful for everything.  Hey, I am so thankful.  How many times on this blog have I stated that?  I have a rich life; fantastic family and friends, a job that I love, my health.  Why must everyone decide to declare that thanks on one day?  I didn't though.  

This morning I awoke in somewhat of a foul mood.  Aquaman rolled over and gently kissed my forehead and said, "I know this is not your holiday but Happy Thanksgiving."  The kids piled in our bed with greetings of "Happy Thanksgiving, When does the parade start and I think Ike pooped in the house."  I knew I would need coffee before my 8:00 a.m. training session so headed to Starbucks.

My mood began to change.  Everyone greeted me by name and they were playing In Rainbows! Jigsaw was playing.  I had just been listening to that song in the car.  On my way to CP I noticed how beautiful the sun was shining.  I got there with my box full of Apple Cake which was nibbled on throughout the morning.  It was just Tony, Kevin, Dan and I and I was making a bet on whether She Ra would show up and she did!  And on little sleep!  Soon Danny, Mark, Eric and Anna showed up and the fun began.

Check out the warm up area.  There was a shortage of foam rollers.  I don't know why this picture cracks me up like it does, but it does. People were moving slow.

So apparently the new fashion trend at CP is to wear the knitted little beanie.  Kind of like an overgrown yarmukle.  When Eric walked in with one today I blurted out, "Okay, what's up with the beanie?  I need to get one."  She Ra then said she could beat that and comes out with a kitten beanie.  It was magnificent.  I totally want a tiger. Grrr. Or a gorilla.  Like my buddy Koko.

So today was show off day with the guys.  Lots of lifting heavy stuff for an obscene amount of reps.  Lots of standing around watching people.  I was there for 2 hours.  2 hours!  That's the amount of time for one of my haircuts!  And the talk?  Animated, in your face funny.  I'd repeat some of it but I'll protect certain members of my training familia.  Including myself.   I was on my last day in my new program so everything was new.  The return of the SUMO something. Barbell forward lunges.  And I had an A, B, C and D on my program.  I used to be just an A,B,C girl.  Now I'm up to D.  And today was all lower body.  Monday was all upper and Saturday is both.  I've never had that before.  

And dear readers, I can add another thing to the Steph Sucks list.  Rotational med ball throws. She Ra saw me do the first few and yells across the gym, "Stop throwing it like a girl."  She was right, it was a wimpy girl at that.  Then Kevin comes over and tries to show me.  Still not happening.  Then Eric Cressey himself comes over to give me a Cressey Tutorial complete with 

doing it with me.  I felt like Pinocchio and he was Gepetto.  The right side started getting it but the left still sucked.  I yell, "I can run a marathon but can't do a rotational med ball throw."  Sad but true.

In the two hours I spent with the CP Crew, my mood totally changed.  I was surrounded by people insane enough to be in Hudson, MA at 8:00 a.m. on Thanksgiving to listen to techno, old school rap and rock and lift weights.   Here is a video of Eric.  There was a lot of this kind of stuff going on all morning.  Show offs.

I think Danny should get a stipend for being such a great spotter.  Or a discount at the least!

Here's a pic of Anna, She Ra and I after our session.  We were so trapbar deadlifting at 405 pounds like some of the guys.  We're just modest and decided not to video it.

Don't the guys look like The Village People?  Honestly, don't let the muscles, beanies and He-Man stance fool you.  These guys are not only funny and smart (well, most of them-just kidding) they have the biggest hearts.  And if any of you screw me over, I'd like to think that they'd come and squash you.  

And here's She Ra and I with the coaching staff and Danny.  Thanks She Ra for coming down to midget level. As Dan was taking this picture, Tony yells out, "Kevin touched my boob."  There's been a lot of boob talk lately.

Danny called this morning The First Annual Cressey Performance Thanksgiving Lift.  A new tradition.  If it hadn't been for this morning, my day would have gone a lot differently.  I welcome this new tradition with open arms.

So feeling great (but having had nothing to eat except coffee, one bite of apple cake and my Cytofuse), I decide to go running.  Yes, stupid.  No, very stupid.  By the time we got to turkey dinner #1 (and there was a breakdown in communication somewhere because dinner was not ready; apparently it was more of a visit) my head hurt I was so hungry.  Look how dazed I look.  Aquaman had to hold me up I felt so weak.  I needed some protein and fast!  

My hunger pains were satisfied at my dad's house.  A truly outstanding meal.  My stepmother is Cuban and makes the best stuffing in the world and I hate stuffing.  My brother made a fantastic vegetable casserole and the sweet potatoes were to die or.  The conversation was lively, funny and relaxed.  We broke out multiple bottles of wine from British Columbia and Italy.  I had bought pies from Petsi's in Sommerville and they were out of this world.  We were all sitting around watching football and The Jonas Brothers came on during half time.  At the end of their set this big guy comes out to rap.  We're all trying to figure out who this person is and my mini me says, "That's Big Rob.  He's their bodyguard."  We all roll our eyes like, yeah right and sure enough Big Rob is written on his jersey.  My dad, very impressed asks, "Where did you learn that?"  Mini me proves she really is a mini me; "I read it in People."  Aquaman and I look at each other like,"What?"  Look at how much we look alike.  We even dressed alike.

My day was actually great.  No crying in the bathroom this year.  Tomorrow I'm working on my project for school with a little help from my friends.  No, with  a lot of help from my friends.  As long as I'm on this purging of gratefulness, I am so thankful to have friends who are patient and willing to share their knowledge and experience about the things in life they have true passion for.  I  hope that you find time every day in your life to silently or publicly acknowledge all of the blessings in your life and not save them all for one day.  Here are the blessings that kicked my arse in gear the past year.

OMG, a Keanu Reeves movie is on.  I love Keanu!  I am so grateful for his contributions to the advancements of method acting.  That one was for Mr. You Smell Like Cinnamon Buns.  

Cinnamon buns, gorillas and delayed reactions

Did you know that Koko the sign language gorilla is taller than me?I learned this from one of my students during our research session today.  This blog was supposed to be about The I Project and how this project is true learning at it's best and how I am trying to manage 23 different projects plus mine.  Another night; I've got way too many other things on my mind.  I'd like to think that Koko is playing some Lori McKenna in this pic.

First, Radiohead.  On my way to work today (and I was extra careful after being rear ended by some chick on her cell phone on Friday and now by beautiful car has a nice old dent in the back; the assessor is coming tomorrow so I can get my baby fixed pronto.)  All of a sudden I realized that if I could only listen to one cd it would be In Rainbows.  I'm not really sure why I was thinking this but I was.  Then as I was listening to non In Rainbows Radiohead, I think I finally understood something that 5 days ago, I couldn't quite get.  And of course I got it through the music connection.  The weird thing; I told Danny tonight at training and he told me the one cd he grabbed before his Italian vacation was In Rainbows.  Spooky kooky!!

I feel like my life has been full of delayed reactions lately.  As a teacher, I always give think time but this is ridiculous.  I'm making connections DAYS later.  I don't know; maybe by not making those connections right away I'm somehow getting a deeper meaning?  Having my subconscious mull it over instead of jumping on the "I get it on a superficial" level bandwagon?  

I was eager to get back on my training schedule after being a slacker last week.  I'm in a new program so had no idea what was in store for me tonight.  I was sad though because Jason, piss in your pants funny Jason, is leaving.  It's job related and it's a great opportunity for him but he was my 2 1/8 favorite at CP.  He was painfully funny, did dead on impersonations but was also encouraging, could dance and was just an awesome person.  He totally cracked me up the other day when he asked, "Did you get your haircut Steph.  Looks good."  I was like "I'm impressed Jason.  I don't even think my husband would have noticed if I hadn't told him."  Someone then said, "I noticed" and Jason as only Jason could said, "Yeah, but I said something.  So how's the BAA training going?"  

But I wasn't sad for long because I think CP is about to get a new female client and SHE'S A MARATHONER!   Danny's friend Aimee came tonight for an eval and I am praying she joins our little disturbing, funny family.   Danny kept telling me I would love her and he kept telling her the same thing about me and I think he was right on!  From what I saw, she is another just one of the guys kind of girl and and endurance athlete.  And funny.  A welcome addition to the VClub.

So, my new program.  Let me just get this out right now; you suck Tony.  I am going to be so sore tomorrow.  Bench presses, pull ups, iso hold pushups, other stuff I blocked out.  And yeah, let's finish it off with 3 sets (and let me just say now that lots of my stuff tonight was 5 sets) of farmer walks.  I know, I know I need to take pictures to show you.  And yeah, let's do it at 130 pounds.  The heaviest I've ever done it.  My hands were destroyed afterwards.  Sure I had the cheering squad but it wasn't their yells of "Looking good Steph, you can do it" that got me through.  It was me muttering, "I hate you Tony" that got me through.  Jason showed me how he used to write nasty notes to the coaching staff on his program when he was feeling challenged.  I'm really going to miss that guy!

But as usual, Tony was right.  I have gotten a lot stronger.  I need to be pushed.  I asked him tonight about doing regular old deadlifts, not the trapbar and what the difference was.   Quote, "You've become a addicted to deadlifts."  Not entirely true, I realize now that I can do them and sometimes well.  Brian even told me he told his fiance about my glory, albeit slightly ugly, at 225 pounds.  The midget hit 225.  The midget though still has a lot of work to do.  And looking forward to hitting some new prs.  I never thought I would say that about weight lifting.  Who have I become?  I did get the special just one of the guys invite to lift Thanksgiving morning.  I might change my anti Thanksgiving feelings after this one.  You think someone will dress up like a turkey?

I am not sure who I am but was told this tonight, "You smell like cinnamon buns."  Imagine the face.  But upon further reflection and conversation realized that who doesn't love the smell of cinnamon buns?"  And I'm shocked that one of my protein loving carb hating coaches knows what a cinnamon bun is.  And when you think about it, I do have cinnamon buns thanks to my Mexicana heritage.  

On that sweet note, nighty night.  

The Spectrum of Culinary Indulgence

Don't you just love the word, indulgence?  I love saying it and the sensation of the l rolling off my tongue.

This weekend I found two restaurants that could not be be more opposite in concept, decor, location, price and ambiance.  Yet both are now on my list of Steph's faves.  And I can't wait to take some of my friends there!

I would like to start out by thanking my husband who once again proved that in order to be married to a kookster like me that you must have patience.  I decided that I needed a new winter coat so before heading out to Culinary Find #1 this past weekend we hit Newbury Street and spent an hour at Patagonia (it had to be Patagonia in my mind) and came out with nothing. At one point he was carrying my LV bag, old winter coat and 4 of the ones I couldn't decide on.  Some lady thought he worked there.  Nothing worked.  It was bad.  Even for me it was bad.  By that time Aquaman was cranky and hungry and was whining "let's just go to Sonsie" but I insisted that we hop in the car and drive down to Port Channel and go to Persephone.  He was like, "We're going to a restaurant named after you?"  Oh, Aman, listen to the wife!

Persephone?  Part of The Achilles Project.  I have been eyeing it for awhile and was excited to get reservations.  The Achilles Project is a concept in which the restaurant which is in the most awesome store ever is placed.  Everything is well thought out, organic, grass fed animals, excellent drinks.  The store?  Hip.  Not trendy, hip.  Some of my favorite designers like Citizens placed next to unknowns.  The ambiance?  Think SoHo loft.  Minimalist, airy spaces, art that makes you think and flat screen tvs at the bar showing classic movies.  We walked in still reeling from the Patagonia disaster and were instantly drawn to everything.  Even cheapo was eyeing some of the shoes and the tee shirts.  That honestly made me way more excited than it should have.

Persephone was true to the Greek figure it was named after and was heavy on the Mediterranean influences complete with lots of pomegranate.  The menu is limited and that's what I loved.  And the staff?  Stellar.  My guy gave me a five minute history of one of the farms they get their beef from which I loved and so of course I had to ask lots of questions which I think took him by surprise at first but then we got into this great conversation about goats.  He suggested a drink which I took him up on and it was divine.  I guess my reaction was kind of loud but genuine because the two couples sitting next to us asked me what I was drinking and ordered the same thing.  Aquaman smiled and said, "Is it possible for you to go anywhere and not talk to strangers?"  Um, no.  I asked him if that was bothersome.  He said no, that's what makes me me.  I am genuinely interested in other people.  "Just like Cora" he said.  Now, I was all up for the goat but it only came in a portion large enough for two people and Aquaman said, "Naa, naa" to the goat so I got steak instead.   Awesome, awesome, awesome.  While I was there I had a strike of brilliancy for a Christmas gift.  How many people can say that "My friend took me out for grass fed goat and cucumber martinis for Christmas."  Not too many, muchas gracias.  When we left Aquaman who had been so skeptical said, "We have to come back here.  And next time, you go shopping."  I fell to my knees in my Seven jeans, Aquitaine boots and Free People shirt, looked up to the midnight sky and yelled out, "The Christmas Miracle has come early from the Jewish man."  

Now, I think that some of my friends think that I only go out to "it" restaurants and in fact have been told that I "need to come down sometimes."  True, I enjoy delectable cuisine.  Just this past month I went to OM, Antico Forno and Blue Ginger.  Food is something that the hubby and I both enjoy.  But let's remember, I am a full bloodied Mexican and you can take the girl out of the barrio (and I am not lying when I say that I spent my early childhood years in the real barrio) but the girl will always love her rice and beans.

So today I wore various forms of pajamas all day.  The actual ones I slept in to the grocery store (the deli man loved it and said I should start a new trend; thanks Salami man.)  I did shower and change into my VS black bottoms with my CP hoodie.  No make up.  Uggs.  Far cry from last night.  Sunday has become go out to dinner family dinner night.  We all wanted Mexican so decided to try something new in Waltham.  Enter, my new favorite Mexican place, Paisano.

The four of us ate for probably less than half of our bill at Persephone.  This place is 100% kitschy Mexican and I loved every wood panel and sombrero hanging in there.  The windows were decorated with spray paint winter scenes, you could play Keno, there was soccer on the tvs, the waitresses were on Mexican time, the music, oh the music.  As every song came on I would get excited and yell, "My grandpa always used to play this."  The margaritas?  I took one sip and said, "Now that bartender is a real Mexican."  Aquaman said it knocked his socks off.  And the food?  I got enchilada verdes which were to die for, Drew's tacos were insane and Aquaman's burrito?  Gigantic and delicious.  Mini me, ever the adventurous one, got a cheese quesadilla.  We took a family vote and are thinking that we may go there every Sunday night.   A new tradition.  You see, before my mom died, she would have us over for dinner every Sunday night.  I can't think of a better way to carry on her legacy (and no cooking is not in the cards; I cannot cook Mexican rice.  I have tried and tried and tried.  This place?  Out of this world rice.)  We can't wait to go back.  I can't wait to take people there.  FP; they have a mariachi on the weekends!!

I could not be happier with my culinary finds this past weekend.  I am so tired; I have to go now and kick Aquaman off my side of the bed on to his.  I was complaining about this at AV's birthday party last night.  For the past 14 years (or something like that) I have always slept on the left side.  And every night Aquaman falls asleep on my side so I have to wake him up and tell him to roll over.  AV's friend Grace had a similar problem with her hubby so got it on her cell phone as evidence.  Bloody brilliant idea!  Now where is my camera?  OOh, I might even have to blog this one.

Distractions

There's a really good chance that I might fall over, bang my head and start drooling halfway through this but the insides of my head feel like a game of ping pong and I so need an outlet for it.

In the past 6 days I have been to 3 concerts, been out past 11:00 three nights in a row, held 8 conferences, taken a course, met friends EVERY night, taught all day (highlight was thinking of a synonym for the verb fart), gotten up at 4:45 two of those days to run and 5:00 the other days to catch up on stuff.  Plus played Mom and done homework, read books, given advice ("Mom, is it okay to be friends with a girl?  I mean I'm not in love with her or anything but we both like Pokemon cards and she's funny." Mom told son that gender doesn't matter when it comes to friendship; velcro yourself to people whom you feel connected to.) My meals are eaten (or not eaten at all) standing up and walking.  I am on my feet the majority of the day.  I actually thrive on being on the move, multitasking.  But yesterday I found myself in a situation and it wasn't until today that I realized this, was totally foreign to me.  I sat.  Not only did I sit, I sat for 3 hours. And I sat and did not do anything else.  I wasn't checking email, texting, correcting homework.  Nothing.  I was in a conversation.  With no distractions.  I'm actually listening to Zero 7's song "Distraction" right now because well, duh the title of this blog is Distractions (even though it's about not being distracted) and in my conversation last night, Sia came up which I then connected to Zero 7 (her old band) and hence, the Zero 7 song.  In fact upon further reflection of the situation for me and deeper analysis of my conversation, I realized that my mind thinks in terms of music now.  I kept connecting everything to a song.  The Smashing Pumpkins, Zero 7, The Shins.  I was like a bad version on Name That Tune.  

I am still in disbelief that me, me, crazy schedule Steph, sat for 3 hours and was not distracted by anything.  I didn't even know what time it was; I never looked.  But there was this demonic Apple woman on the computer who would scare the heebiejeebies out of me every hour on the hour by stating the time.  But something happened to me.  I relaxed.  I settled down.  Do you know what a 3 hour conversation with no distractions will do to you?  It forces you to really listen, to be able to follow your thought process down alleys you may not usually have time for.  It gives you time to make connections (even if they are cheezy musical ones; so thankful I didn't reference show tunes, "Oh, that reminds me of West Side Story-when you're a Jet you're a Jet...truth be told Tony and Maria aka Natalie Wood did flash through my mind at one point but I was too tired to jump up and belt out Maria.  

I kept saying last night how much I dislike Thanksgiving and was dreading the superficial things that take place during The Holidays.  I love Christmas but have little, actually no, tolerance for the superficial things about it.  OMG, I was totally setting this up to share some Christmas music finds but just remembered that I learned so much last night about miseltoe.  Back to the music.  I want to vomit in my mouth (thanks She Ra for using that in your blog, I would thank Tony too but I think he stole it from you; you are so much more poetic) everytime I hear the massacre of a beloved Chrsitamas Song.  Today, I found a cd that I honestly am thinking of giving to everyone I know.  

Girl in A Coma, Joan Jett, The Dollyrots and a whole bunch of groups  playing the ''seeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeoh oh no, the Slumberification of Steph is taking place.  Time is limited.  This cd rocks.  Joan Jett singing Little Drummer Boy? Unreal.   

I see my life as a continuing education of all things.  I learned a valuable listen last night.  "Enjoy the silence."  Oh, there I go again, musical reference, Depeche Mode.  The conversation itself wasn't silent but when you get rid of the distractions that can muddle interactions, you can really hear, think and process.  

She gets really hot between my legs

That had to be the quote of the night.  No, make it the week; maybe even the month.  I will let your imagination have fun with that one but trust me when I tell you that the story behind it is totally G rated; think Animal Planet.  Actually, that does sound kind of sick!  And for once it wasn't me who said something like that!

These are my sorority sisters from U of R.  I have snuck kegs and boyfriends out of windows, dressed up as The Flinstones (OMG; I really am a Flinstone) and made a car to a fraternity mixer, done Gilad workout videos,  attended countless parties, mixers and semi-formals, and had way, way too many laughs with these ladies.  We meet once a month for dinner and I was so excited that Skaty was in town and could join us.  We were remembering when Monica fell on us and she said, "Do you remember the initiation picture of me?"  And I thought for a minute and then it hit me like a ton of bricks.  There is an initiation picture of her that can only be described as demonic that she would show me all the time and it would kill me.  Like tinkle in your skivvies funny.  There is only one picture now in my present life (make that a slideshow) that can possibly bring me that joy so I showed the entire table on my iPhone and it truly made everyone's day.  How I love to spread joy to my friends!  Next up tomorrow night; Jonatha Brooke with FP.  Maybe I'll see if I can find my Barney Rubble costume-yes, I was Barney Rubble.  Now that is a picture to see.

I apologize dear readers!

Okay, before the whole Comcast deleted my email account fiasco, I used to get posting notifications so I could publish your comments.  I wrongly assumed that they would be forwarded to my new email address.  Wrong!  I just checked my dashboard and there were tons of comments that have been sitting there.  I am so sorry.  I swear I wasn't ignoring you.  I didn't know you were there!  They are published.  And they're good!

So, here it is The Cheetah Girl's Review.  Look how cute my mini me and her friend look.  

You heard it here first; The Cheetah Girls Rock!  They totally blew Miss Miley Cyrus out of the water.  First, they come in all colors and shapes.  I love the blonde chick because she's short just like me, she's got legs, thighs and a butt that says, "I love to deadlift" and a chest (though hers' is totally porn star status; no understudy for her.)  Then there's the Latina and the African American girl.  They can sing, and man can they dance.  They also had 6 costume changes in a 90 minute concert but hey, they looked GOOD!  Here's a pic of mini me and me (she wouldn't let me wear my new SP shirt because "Mom, it's not sparkly."  Coco Chanel finally okayed my Ed Hardy jeweled Phoenix shirt; apparently it had enough bling.

This coming week is packed, and I mean packed.  So packed that for the first time in Steph history I am skipping training at CP for an entire week (I didn't even do that when I was on crutches; yes the Eric Cressey found a way for me to train while on crutches.  And I actually did it!)  This means upping the "cardio" (Oh, I'm already cringing.) so getting up almost every morning at 4:45.  Tomorrow; fondue with the Rochester girls and I am so excited that Skaty is going to be in town.  One of my favorite memories from college is when Skaty and our sorority sister Monica  and I were taking a class on women in Broadway.  The auditorium was full and we were sitting a couple of rows in front of Monica and I'm still not sure how this happened but Monica fell?  or tripped? and landed up on top of us and (FYI; I am totally cracking up right now) and I could not stop laughing.  I think the professor even yelled at us.  And one time Skaty's mom (so not her real name) sent us a turkey during finals and we ate the sucker.  Leave a piece of poultry around a bunch of stressed out sorority girls and it's gone in a second.  

Tuesday I have a ton of parent/teacher conferences and then FP and I are going to see Jonatha Brooke at The Paradise.  The show was postponed from last month.  Even for me 3 concerts in 4 days is a lot.  Then Wednesday I have more conferences plus class and then I'm meeting the Simmons Chicks in Waltham for dinner.  I haven't seen them in such a long time.  Thursday I must deal with the ramifications of being out 3 nights in a row.   And somewhere this week I need to do some field work for my research project.  When exactly I'm not sure.  I'll try to take pictures every night so we can see how out of it I look by Wednesday.   

When my mind starts to spin out of control this week I will visualize where I will be from February 15-20th.  Yes, I finally booked our trip to Puerto Rico.  A little fun in the sun is looking mighty good right now.

Burgers at The Bristol, Billy and my Boy

I know, she's actually blogging about a concert the night it happened?

I HAD to.  This was my boy's first concert.  Plus, the Pumpkins started exactly at 7:30 which allowed us to get home at a reasonable time.  

He's sitting right next to me munching on popcorn and watching a movie.  He's too wired to go to sleep as am I.  His dad on the other hand, snoring away.

First, I did lift 225.  It was not pretty but I did it.  And thanks a lot Tony for writing me a hell torture program and not even being there on my first day to see it.  The keg has made a return and not the kind of return I was hoping for which would have included a tap and a big cold glass.  Actually, I went three times the distance that was written on my program.  As I told Jason smugly, "Um, I do run marathons."  To which he replied, "And The Bahston one at that!"  That guy is really growing on me.  And I got the best treat today.  Danny has a new favorite band and he ordered me the cd from the UK and brought it in.  An import!  For moi? No one have ever bought me an import before!

Our pre-concert meal was burger and beers at The Bristol Lounge at The Four Seasons.  They have the best burgers.  During our meal I found out that Michael Stipe was gay.  I had no idea.  Aquaman and my friend Mark looked at me like, "How could YOU not know."  I swear, I had no idea.  The boys were so excited about the concert.  We walked over to The Wang and immediately bought our requisite concert tee shirts.  Here are Ben and Drew in theirs (I'm wearing my to The Cheetah Girls tomorrow as a musical statement.)

This picture took 4 takes because someone kept shutting his eyes.  Guess Who?  

SP came on exactly at 7:30 and the first song they played was Ava Adore.  The ultimate I will conquer you love song.  I was so thrilled when I saw my boy moving his head to the music and getting into it.  We knew that a lot of the set would be more mellow and slow and it was.  Standouts were Crestfallen and Soma.   And then came the most awesome 10 minutes ever.  Cherub Rock followed by Zero.  My boy starts jumping when he hears Cherub Rock and looks at Aquaman like, "This is our song."  Then they go right into Zero.  The boy and I look at one another, scream and start rocking out and singing to the song.  We both scream out, "She's the one for me.  Emptiness  is loneliness and loneliness is cleanliness and cleanliness is godliness and God is empty just like me."  That's going to be one of those moments that I will always remember.  Look at the happy parents (thanks to Peter Parker for the picture.)

Billy was Billy (though he did say he wasn't Billy; you with me here.)  He's been under a lot of criticism for not playing just the old stuff and experimenting with the new on this tour.  I think that is a brilliant move.  I don't want the McDonald's version of SP.  I want the small Italian bistro version.  Innovative.  That man can play the guitar like no one I know.  

Here's SP playing Disarm acoustic style.  

Ahh, am I going to sleep well tonight.

The Calm Before The Storm

I was in my pjs by 6:30 tonight.  No joke.  And I am damn proud of it!  

I am in the middle of teacher/parent conferences and it is such an affirmation to have parents tell me, "My child is so excited to come to school every day and it is so evident that you know my child so well.  Thank you for everything you do."  I kind of need to hear that right now.  I have 23, yes 23 different research projects go on.  I of course am doing one to serve as a model so decided to take it one step further to incorporate it with our unit on math.  I'm too tired I can't even get into but let me tell you now, if I can pull this off, it will be the ultimate example of cross curriculum integration AND my kids will be floored by the grand finale.  I am so lucky to have one incredibly intelligent friend who is helping me along the way (come to think of it he was the one who helped me with my Superhero unit which by the way is being requested by other teachers.)  I would have never found out about Girlfriend in a Refrigerator Syndrome which completely fascinated me.   That would be the best name for a band; kind of like Girlfriend in a Coma by The Smiths.  

It totally cracks me up how so many people guess 27 when guessing my age.  27?  I mean maybe 30, but I get 27 all the time.  Like today.  It was the p.e. teacher's birthday.  The kids guessed how old she was; 27.  Then they started guessing if I was younger than her.  Now first, I have told my class multiple times how old I am.  Second, they know I have a 9 year old and no one thought to do the math to figure out that if I was younger than 27 I would have been a teen mom.  When I reminded them of how old I was I got looks of disbelief.  Then I got this from one girl, "No offense but you look good for your age!" Gee, thanks.

This weekend is crazy, crazy.  Training (the big 225 challenge), facial ( I know so such a chore), errands, work and The Smashing Pumpkins and let's not forget The Cheetah Girls.

The Who you ask?

The Cheetah Girls.

My mini me is beyond excited.  That musical experience is Sunday afternoon.  Their best lyric "Cheetah, cheetah."  No joke.

But let's talk Pumpkins.  Let's all just take a moment of silence and stare at this picture.

I've said it before and I'll say it one thousand times more; "I love, love, love Billy Coorigan."  I've always had a soft spot for brooding bald guys who love to wear stripes a la Hamburglar.  And who can play, write and just shake my she's really 37 but look 27 being upside down.  Billy can be extreme; energized borderline angry in your face or the sweet, soothing reflective tender guy.  He is at his best when he can balance both.  Stand Inside Your Love is the best example of this.  The music, hard and melancholy.  His vocals; exposed and yearning.  Raw.  

"And for the first time

I feel as though I am reborn in my mind

recast as child and mystic sage."

OMG, I could hug him right now.  That song.  I think it's about the darkness of love, the intensity.  The stuff Hallmark cards never address.  Let's face it love needs to have some discomfort.  It needs to be a little ugly sometimes.  One of my other favorite lines is from Tarantula (and is one of my ringtones on my iPhone.)

"I want to love you when you're happy, I want to love you when you're sad."

I first heard that song the second time I saw them last year.  By the end of the first chorus I knew I had to track down the setlist to find out the name of this song.   It stayed with me.  It spoke to me on so many different levels.  They haven't been playing it a lot this tour but you never know.  They have been playing Mayonaise a lot.  Another brilliant Billy song.  That one though; about self.  I love to listen to this one late at night, in the dark with my eyes closed.

"No more promise

no more sorrow

No longer will I follow

Can anybody hear me

I just want to be me

When I can, I will

Try to understand

That when I can, I will."

That last thought just gave me an idea.  Buenos Noches.

My Boy

I love 9 and 10 year olds.  They are at this amazing place in their development where their intellectual curiosity takes control.  Where they really begin to develop a sense of self.  Where risk is no longer feared but welcomed.  Where failure is a necessity for growth to happen.  And they are funny.  OMG, do they have a sense of humor.  Every week I send home a communication book to parents with comments about their child's week and the child also writes a letter home discussing the week's events and setting a goal for following week.  How are kids every going to work towards something if there is no reflection and synthesis before looking ahead to the future?  This week's letters were hysterical.  We went to The MFA and took a class on The Silk Route and well, let's just say "naked" was said about 1,000 times.  And what distresses me even more is that half my class spelled naked incorrectly.  I am so NOT putting that as the extra word on the spelling test next week.

My boy is almost 10.  Ten years ago I was on bedrest due to PIH at 7 months of pregnancy.  I was hospitalized, given steorids, you name it.  Everyone kept saying, "Just make it to 32 weeks, then 34, then 36 and then the magic 37".  I made it to 38 before induction.   Volumes have been written about a mother holding her child for the first time.  All I remember is feeling so relieved.  We had made it and he was okay.  I remember looking at him and thinking, "OMG you fit in me and I pushed you out!"  Then I told Aquaman that if he didn't get me a greek salad (couldn't eat feta due to lystria) and a coffee (the no caffeine thing pretty much killed me) I was going to die.  

We went through the truck phase, the Rescue Hero phase, the dinosaur phase, the Lego phase (we are still in that phase) and of course Star Wars (still stuck), Transformers, Batman, Pokemon and now Bakugan. His bedroom looks like Toy R U.  I am not a "little kid" parent.  The infant stage is one of my favorites; there is nothing more comforting than a warm little body snuggled up on your chest.  Or smelling the breast milk breath (me and the boobs again), or just watching them sleep and smile in their sleep.   I was not a toddler mom.  The constant running after them, the suicidal kids songs set to bad synthesizers.  I had always said, "I can't wait until he gets older."My little boy who loved Arthur books (I still love Arthur) now reads Mad Magazine for kids.  He knows his way around Ebay and You Tube.   And he can walk into CP and hear a song and say, "That's Disturbed playing."

Yes, my boy got my love for music.  As a preschooler, he would listen to soundtracks.  Instrumental soundtracks.  I kid you not.  Battle of Hoth from The Empire Strikes Back was a personal favorite.  He has always loved The Smashing Pumpkins.  Always.  I'm taking my boy, the one who used to wear a cape all of the time, the one who used to watch Sesame Street religiously, the one who could talk my mom with a 2 year old vocabulary into doing ANYTHING for him (Gma get my ball; Gma did even though it was in poison oak and she was then covered in it.)  I'm taking my boy to see The Smashing Pumpkins on Saturday.  I can't even put my mind around it.  First, I am the mother of an almost 10 year old?  True, I get mistaken for his sister or babysitter, but still the truth is the truth and the truth is I had that kid.  Second, he likes the same music as me?  And that he "gets the music."  He really does.  I can hear the classical playing in his room right now.  It helps put him to sleep.  He's almost as tall as me.  I cannot wait to take him and see his face transform when he hears the first chords of a song.  I know my boy.  He's going to feel it.  Just like his sister, I mean his mom.

"I simply remember my favorite things and then I don't feel so bad"

Oh, (imagine me in my snowflake pjs belting this out) these are a few of my favorite things.  Who does not love The Sound of Music?

Julie Andrews?  She is like the original Lori McKenna.  Remember her cute little guitar?  And Julie rocks the bowl cut I might add. 

Over the past month or so, many of my colleagues have asked me "Where did you get those boots?", "What color lip gloss is that?", "I love those tights," etc.  Our head secretary is always commenting on my outfit and two of the Darceymargaritas (whom I love more every day; we're planning a weekend away to a cabin up in Killington.  I said I'd go but there had better be electricity) asked me to take them shopping. I have said here before, I love to shop.  Blame it on my mother; her shopping sprees were legendary.  The woman could carry like 10 shopping bags at once.  But, she was a bargain hunter.  That unfortunately is the one attribute that was not carried down.  I'm not so concerned with the label (though I have my favorites.)  Just this weekend I bought a killer sweater at Target.  Mini-me looked at it and said "That is so you mom."   So relieved that she got the gift too.  Like right now, I am on the hunt for a killer pair of red ballet flats.  My friend Stephanie swears by a brand that is close to impossible to find but you know I totally will hunt those suckers down.  Anyways, whether it's clothing, make-up, food, books, musics, anything, I always do my homework.  I read up and do the research.  I thought it might be fun to do a review of some of my most favorite things.  Something different.

So, with all of the melon talk lately and I would personally like to thank TG from the bottom of my heart for incorporating my melons in a conversation with KL (I was so glad I was doing my lunges facing away from him because tears were streaming down my face from laughing so hard) that I would start with the one article of clothing that for women is worst than trying to find a pair of jeans (I can see y'all nodding your heads); the bra.

I was cleaning out my drawers and was horrified to see that I still had some nursing bras.  Um, I haven't nursed a kid in over 6 years.  Those suckers are horrible.  Heavy cotton with Kotex like padding.  It looks more like a bandage.  No wonder women suffer from post-partum depression.  Think of having to look down at your chest which is now a satellite location for Hood and see a straight jacket keeping your udders together.  

Now, I used to be a Victoria's Secret girl.   They have some great bras.  The problem is; they don't last that long and the people there always size me the wrong way.  Plus, that store is way to pink now.  I feel like I'm lost in Pepto Bismol land every time I walk in there.

With the help from my amigas at Nordstroms, I have discovered two brands that I love and will only wear.  If you have high levels of testosterone in your body than you may want to stop and laugh out loud now.  Ladies, you will totally get it.

For the summer and when I wear a tee shirt, I wear the Natori Tee Shirt bra.  So, so comfortable, the perfect support and fit.  I have this one in beige, black and brown.

 And no, sadly that is not me posing in any of the pictures.   Maybe when I'm 40? 

Now, for fall and winter, I wear Huit which is a company based in Paris.  They have this technology called the air pillow which is revolutionary.  I have this one in white, pink and black lace and the actual one pictured.

If you've never tried out any of these brands, give them a try.  This is going to be so much fun.  Do I do undies or mascara next?  Decisions, decisions.

"She's one of the guys."

Honestly, one of the best compliments I've ever received.  I know how I've talked a lot about how most of the time I am the only female at CP.  My trapbar challenge was postponed until next Saturday (why did I listen to Pete; now tonight I did tell him (after a truly "one of the boys" remark) "I like you more every day."  But I should probably leave my training up to T, E and B.  Tony decided since I lifted heavy on Saturday to wait until next Saturday.  I am in my deload week right now.  Plus, Drew who trains every Saturday with his friend Ben, will be there.  Today he told me, "Mom, none of my friends believed you could lift 200 pounds."  I am going to let Peter Parker video his madre go for 225.  It kind of scares me how much I am looking forward to this.

So I decided to show you just what a Monday night looks like at CP.  What it's like to be the only chicka in a land full of chicos.  Now tonight I walk in and all of my favorite guys, Pete, Tony, Danny, Jason and Brian (Eric wasn't there) were talking smack in the office.  Kevin and Chris were in the gym; someone had to work you know.   I walk in and the conversation immdiately stops and Pete goes, "Guy conversation ends now."  And Tony, my knight in shining armor says, "Steph; she's one of the guys."  They all look like each other and nod in agreement and continue the conversation!  Such a proud moment for me.  And I just wasn't a bystander, I contributed!  Some real gems too.  I still get teary eyed just thinking about it.  

When you train with the same people, week after week, a kind of camraderie  is established.  People encourage you, yell at you, insult you and spot you.  I'm really picky about who spots me; I only let Eric, Tony or Brian do it but tonight I let Danny and he was the perfect mix of get in your face yelling and sweetness.  Danny has awesome taste in music and just did this insane Warp Speed Fast Loss program and is insane looking now.  So I am in a deload week and at the end of my program.  Tonight was the first night I really noticed how much stronger I have become.  My incline close grip somethings (obviously I still need to continue my training education and work on the vocabulary); both Brian and Kevin yelled "that looks way too easy, add some weight."  I did.  And I did it.  My landmines; added a weight to the bar.  As I was doing my sled runs (still hate hate hate those and it didn't help that Jason who's on this demonic Strongman circuit and does multiple runs between other horrible things and usually pukes and is sprawled on the floor; I think if I ever puke, that will be the equivalent of getting balls) Tony yells, "You got stronger this month."  I am eager to get my new program on Saturday.  See what torture The Three Amigos have in store for me.

So here is video of Tony and Danny lifting heavy stuff to Techno.  I told them, I am totally getting a beanie and wearing it next time I train.  

I told Aquaman that he looked like a ventriloquist in the picture I posted last night (remember, he NEVER reads this) and he looked at it and said, "Yeah, I do.  And my dummy has a nice set of melons."

Ha, ha you think you are so funny but you're not (actually, that was pretty funny.)

The Melon Training Effect and The Trapbar Challenge

I really need to get this one off my chest.  Ha, you are so funny Steph.

I am really, really trying to educate myself about my training and just strength training, anatomy and nutrition in general.  I figure I spend enough time and money on it, I owe it to myself and my checkbook to really be informed.  I have friends who are coaches and I try to read their articles, books and blogs as support and also to educate but truth be told, a lot of it is over my highlighted head.  Speaking of highlights, take a look at the new color:

Aquaman never smiles in pictures.  He looks like a really bad ventriloquist here.   Back to my main point.  

I have been working with EC and now EC/TG and BS for over two years.  Until April, it was twice a week.  Since then it's three times a week.  I definitely am stronger and some surprising changes in my body have taken place.  Like the rebirth of my chest. I have written about this before but it has truly come to light (literally, one of the ta tas almost popped out and saw light the other night) until recently.  The bra size has changed.  As Aquaman said, "They came back."  Where the went, I am not sure.  Were they lost?  Now let's get one thing clear; I am nowhere near like porn star status.  I would be more like B movie horror/slasher film understudy girl.  But they have changed.  FP saw me and said, "Nice melons."  Enter visual here.

Melons.  All shapes and varieties.  I then

 began thinking, "What melon am I now?"  But before that I had to rule out the bra effect.  Now I got this killer new shirt from Nordstroms and it definitely was a melon happy kind of shirt.  I wore it last weekend with my new favorite line of bra.  The melons were supported and in control.  Now, I wore a different bra with it yesterday, but still made by the same company; just a different fabric. Melons gone wild.   Cross out the bra effect.  Then today, I wore a totally different bra; my favorite tee shirt ones by Natori and wore it with my new Land of Talk tee shirt and voila, they were still there.

There is only one thing I can think of; it's a melon training effect.  FP told me that someone told her that the melons get rejuvenated after you turn 40.  40?  That's three years from now.  OMG, what will I look like then???????  Why am I discussing this?  Because, I hope that if there are readers out there whose melons have been displaced, lost, are asleep, that don't give up.  They come back!  Like a reunion tour.

On Saturday, I set a PR with a trapbar deadlift.  Enter yet another visual here.

I'm almost at the end of my first program and I got pretty good at these.  I typically do 4-5 sets with 4-5 reps each.  I went from 165-190 in three weeks (thanks to Brian who one day said, "That is way too easy for you.  You look so bored; add 20 pounds.)  Last week I did 5 sets and hit 190.  I walked in Saturday morning and told Tony, "I want to hit 200."  Disbelief!  I, the self proclaimed whiner wanted to hit a PR?  He said "You can do it."  I only had 3 sets, 4 reps in each one.  Started at 185, 195 and then the moment of truth.  I grabbed Brian and Kevin was standing right by.  I said, "the more the merrier that watches, I'm not going to be like another client who freezes when all eyes are upon him."  I took a deep breath, arched my back and lifted that sucker for all 4 reps.  Tony missed it and said it didn't count.  KL, "That is kind of heavy."  So Pete then blurts out (while eating his string cheese I might add), "I wonder how heavy you could lift for one rep.  I bet 225."  Now this intrigues me; I wonder what I could do?  So I talked to Tony and tomorrow we're going see if the midget can do it.  I'm even taking the camera.  This might even be video worthy.

We had our monthly family meeting tonight.  We went to the North End to Antico Forno one of my favorite places to get pizza.  Topic of discussion; where to go for February vacation since Highlight Head screwed up the Mexico plans.  Mini me voted for Jamaica, her brother, Atlantis in the Bahamas, Aquaman skiing out west and my vote went to The Bitter End Yacht Club in Virgin Gorda, BVI.  We're going back to Puerto Rico.  Oh, how I love democracy.  As we were leaving Aquaman said, "That was such a good meal. We are not doing the Framingham eating thing anymore."  To hear Cheapo say this was surprising since all I ever hear from him lately is, "Recession."  He has always been anti-chain which is kind of hard when you live in the suburbs. When we go out in the burbs it's usually John Harvard's,  Legal's or we go to Waltham a lot.  I love Waltham; so many great places to eat.  And Wellesley has some good places.  But after this weekend (he took the kids to Fanuiel Hall on Friday and they had mexican) he has now decided that this family will travel for food.  We take the kids into Cambridge and Boston all of the time.  I love nothing more than walking around with them, taking in the people and the ambiance.  My boy; he is so much like his Dad and yet so much like me.  We were looking at music in Newbury Comics and I was giving him some history on The Smashing Pumpkins, including early influences, the sheer brilliancy of Billy Coorigan etc and he starts telling me his favorite songs, "I like the harder stuff like Tarantula and Zero" (this bringing tears to my eyes.)  The guy standing next to me interjects and says to Drew, "Your babysitter has great taste in music."  The eyes start rolling on Drew and I have an inner smile, "It must be the melon training effect."

Let the bowling showdown begin........

Yesterday I got the best text from FP.  "BamBam, Beer, Burgers and Bowling; let the showdown begin."

I am in the best mood; I got a new hair cut (supposedly it's very in in California like that 

matters, they are the state that voted down Prop 8), have some 

bangs now and nice layers.  Dare I say it makes me look younger?  The kids are spending the night with the grandparents and Aquaman and I are doing a little shopping at Saks before heading to Kings.  And, and I set a PR at CP today and am going for 25 more pounds but just one rep on Monday.  Roar!

So who will win you ask?

BamBam, Fruity Pebbles, Aquaman or Cookie Monster (and how did I the darkest end up being the whitest nickname of them all?)  I am so wearing my leopard Hanky Panky's tonight.  Gotta get that animal print vibe going.

Glad, Mad and Sad

I know, your lives haven't been the same without a slice of Steph.  I have never worked so hard in my entire life.  I am exhausted but at the same time stimulated, engaged and focused.  I hadn't seen two of my closest friends in awhile and I had a chance to hang out with both this past week and it was the kick in the arse, the recharging of my battery pack that I needed.  Friendship is invaluable.  Especially when the friends are witty, creative, smart and downright original.  

I honestly feel like that Chex cereal mix right now; you know the one that everyone makes during the holidays.  You have Corn Chex, Wheat Chex and Rice Chex along with other salty pleasures.  The combination of Chexes creates fulfills different sensations on your pallete leaving you slightly satisfied but yearning for a little more.  I have three opposing emotions running through me right now.  I  honestly don't know which to indulge myself in.

First, the glad.  Here's FP and me at The Oak Bar where we hung out with fellow Democrats to celebrate our new president.  Like the "big arse martinis" as FP put it.  We had so much fun.

And Ike thanks you too!  His brothers and sisters are saved!  Of course my mini-me asked me since so many more dogs would be up for adoption if we'd be adopting another one.  Damn, maybe I should have voted no!  And Wilma had surgery on her eye today and the prognosis looks good.  

Now for the mad, and I'd like to thank FP for being such a good model of mad when she got in my car on Tuesday night.  I told her, "I am woman hear me roar!"  I was so MAD yesterday after a meeting I had that I, Ms. I never miss a session, cancelled.  You know it was bad.  I explained it to TG and EC like this tonight.  "Pretend you have a kid and you go into his gym class one day and the gym teacher has everyone doing yoga on Bosu Balls or he's having your kid lift weights that are WAY too heavy for him justifies it by saying that, "it's okay, I'm here to spot him."  After the meeting Aquaman looked at me and said, "You really know what you're talking about.  You're good!"  No duh Aquaman!  You should have seen me last night.  

And now for the sad.  So many people around me are dealing with death.  Death from the past, recent death and death in the impending future.  I drove to work this morning listening to Let Go by Frou Frou like one thousand times.  In fact, I want to listen to it right now.  I'm back.  "There's beauty in the breakdown."  I'm not even sure this is a song about death but there's something about it that makes my heart ache with tenderness.  This question always comes up, "Is it better to be able to say goodbye or is losing someone suddenly and unexpectedly easier?"  I have friends who have held a dying parent in their last moments, family members who told our loved one, "It's okay, you can go now."  I never got to say goodbye.  Someone in my immediate family got devastating news this week and she is preparing herself for what will probably be the hardest thing she's ever had to go through.  I only know too well the long path she has ahead of her.  Let's be honest but not necessarily eloquent, grief sucks.

My weekend (actually almost all of my weekends until Christmas) is booked.  Tomorrow I'm going to The MFA with my team to create a scavenger hunt for our field trip next week.  And of course we'll have a cocktail or two.   I've got the 2 hour hair appointment Saturday and then Aquaman, FP, CM and I are going to King's for some food, booze and a killer game of bowling to LOUD music.  Aquaman is an expert bowler; I am not.  But beware FP, you and fuzzy blue Muppet Man are gong down!

On the Eve of the Election

I have so much to do and should really be doing it; work, paying my bills, watching One Tree Hill, but I feel the need as a responsible citizen to speak my voice (and I finally have mine back after 4 days of not having one.)  I don't have school tomorrow.  Well, I still have to go to work but not teach.  I'm in all day professional development so I guess in many ways my mind is thinking, and wrongly thinking, that it is a day off.  Bad move brain.

Tonight at CP, politics (and a picture of a fellow client that was on SNL this weekend) was the theme of our conversations.  KL and GT (I think my new thing is going to be to call everyone by their initials; simple and to the point; I do with FP all the time and that IS her name now) were having a really good conversation and I did my whole, No on 1, yes on 3 speech.  KL asks, "Yes on 3?" and I say yes, I have a greyhound.  He then says "Go tell Tony right now about the greyhounds; he doesn't buy it."  Now here is the funny thing, I tell that damn dog every day that I will send him to the glue factory but I feel bad for him and his fellow brothers and sisters.  I mean poor Ike is missing some of his ear from abuse.  I really hadn't talked to Tony tonight because he was doing an evaluation (and once again Brian proved to be the scary one but we had a good conversation about why I am scared of him and I think he pushes me the hardest.  I trapbar deadlifted 190 on Saturday.  Me, the midget, 190 pounds!  It was Brian who kept pushing me with the weight.  But let's get this straight, I hold my own.  In fact tonight, I kept saying, "Hey third favorite, can you spot me?"  Actually, he's my 2 1/2 favorite.   So I find Tony and give him a lecture on greyhound abuse.  I told him I was going to blog about it so here is Ike saying, "TG listen to the midget!"

Ike is asking you the voters of Massachusetts to please vote yes on Question 3 and to stop greyhound racing.  How can you say no to that face?  Even if he does fart and lay sausage biscuits around the house, he is a part of our family.  

Please consider voting No on Question 1 if you'd like Steph and all of her friends to keep their jobs!

And we won't even get into the presidential race only to say, do you really want Sarah one heart attack or stroke away from the presidency?  Oh man, that thought just made the damn dog drop a biscuit!  Kidding!  FP and some other friends and I are going somewhere, I think Boston, to watch the results come in.  I'm thinking an Obamargarita may be in order..............................

Why Girls With Short Hair Rock

So, I've made a new promise to myself that before I go to a new "cultural enrichment" event that I must write about the previous one.  I'm not sure why but that's just the way it is.

Last Sunday Aquaman and I went to see Land of Talk and Broken Social Scene at The Wilbur.  I was excited all day (and found some sedation for my excitement at Nordstroms where all my friends were like, "Where have you been?")  Best line from that retail venture:  Drew and Amelia were sitting in the dressing room offering their suggestions and after about 10 minutes I tried on this very bizarre Free People shirt and Drew offers this gem; "Mom you look horrible in that and I 'm not just saying that because I want to leave."  He was so right.  I did find 2 KILLER black shirts to add to my Angelina Jolie collection.  BTW, heard her new movie was incredible.  I might have to go see it.

On the way in I ask Aquaman some questions about BSS and LOT songs.  He really, really likes BSS and actually offered some good musical connections.  I was pleased.  Then I asked him about LOT, the band I have not stopped listening to.  He says, "Nah, they don't do it for me."  WHAT??  He waits until now to tell me?  I start thinking, "You are so not worthy of going"-this totally gets him going-and yelp out, "I can't believe it.  You pulled one over on me.  I don't know if you are allowed to go."  He says slyly, "Yeah, who are you going to find right now.  We're in the car."  Just at that point I glance out the window and am 99.9% I see someone who loves music as I do and I think "Spooky Kooky" but Aquaman keeps driving.   He is so lucky I didn't leave his white arse on the side of the road.

We have an awesome dinner at Teatro where I had an orgy with every kind of carb; pizza, calamari and of course a Hot Tub, Pomegranate margarita and half a Mojito (no booze was served at the show-big bummer.)

I sat in my seat waiting and waiting until at last, LOT came out and OMG girl scream, Elizabeth the lead singer, chopped off all of her hair.  It was a sign people.  I hit Aquaman on the arm and screamed, "She chopped off her hair!"  And then they played the most rocking, seductive set ever.  Here's them playing my favorite song (I wake up singing this song almost every morning.)

Afterwards tons of people were buying their cd and Aquaman said, "Okay, she was really, really good."  Then BSS came out.  Two drummers, 4 or 5 guitarists, a horn section, synthesizer and Elizabeth did all of the female vocals (Feist used to be their old vocalist.)  It was unreal.  They would switch instruments, they all sang and they just loved to jam.  They played all of my favorite songs, my new obsession being Looks Just Like The Sun.  The best part is that they were having major sound problems and at one point had to stop so they all sat down and played some made up acoustic stuff.  True musicians who love what they do.  Here they are playing my all time favorite, Shoreline.

Well, I just ate like 3 mini candy bars while waiting for the video to upload.  I justify it by saying I trained today and won't be eating dinner tonight until 10:00.  I haven't seen a play in awhile and everything I have seen at The Zero Arrow is totally wacky, surreal, odd, funny and unreal so I should like it.  And if it sucks, oh well, I tried something new and was in good company.  Next concert?  The Smashing Pumpkins.  Read Billy Coorigan's blog on the SP website; I love him.  I mean, I really love him.  This show should be a work of art.