Thursday, November 22, 2012

Ideas to Remember and Ponder

-SP heart throw [red & black? Or black and white?]
-Siamese Dream album cover, tapestry style squares
-or, SP discography tapestry style squares for quilt
-and of course, an epic Civ quilt

 <<-- I happen to like this version the best I think.

That is… if my hands hold up. I went to medical the other day—by the way—and they confirmed ‘entry level’ carpal tunnels. So far, right hand only. They gave me a brace and some motrin and told me to follow up in a couple weeks. I forgot to pick up the motrin, which I assume is for inflammation, but the brace is not working so well. Now, instead of my outside two fingers falling asleep whenever I do something hand-intensive, my thumb is numb most of the time, and the back of my hand is numb on minor movement and light palpitation. Woohoo [sarcasm]. They’re closed while we hang out in Bahrain, but I’ll go back in a few days and let them know. Obviously… can still type.

Actual Conversation...

Boss: “I’m moving your stuff, ass. ‘Cuz you know, that’s your new name.”

Me: “ok…”

Boss: “You know, cuz you’re 75% ass.”

 

[general and hysterical laughter from all three of us in the room]

 

Me: “Awwww, that means I’m only 25% person…”

 

[PS. In case you missed the joke, it’s funny because it’s true.]

 

Friday, November 16, 2012

Third Time's a Charm!!

So, I was supposed to get weighed in this week.

On Tuesday, they told me I would have to come back because my skin was too red… from my workout wrap thing. I took it off the required half hour before, but I guess I broke out. Oops, my bad.

So I was supposed to go back today, this morning, but no one gave me an exact time. So turns out, by the time I got there, everyone had already left. So that’s strike two.

By this time I’m fairly freaking out and continuing to diet ferociously, which sucks. SO FINALLY. I went back this evening, and PASSED!

Final verdict:
63.5” tall
13.5” neck
28” waist [woohoo!]
42.5” hips

For a body fat percentage of 32%!!!...which is borderline, but PASSable. So, I pass. I win. I get promoted. And I get to ease up on the diet a little and be normal but still work out all the time. Then by the time I get home, I might actually be able to make it on weight alone! :D

Sunday, November 11, 2012

Damn my insufferable good Rhythm !

I am old enough to remember that song “The Rhythm is Gonna Get You,” by Gloria Estefan. More like, I spend all my time trying to get the rhythm.

I can’t dance. Like, I can’t ‘get down,’ or ‘boogie’ or any of that good drunk stuff—in heels or without. I can cha-cha, waltz, and salsa passably because of acting class. I can line dance if you give me earplugs, and I can zumba all day long—with half of my body at a time. I’m not quite sure where this rhythm came from, but I know one of my brothers is pretty damn good at drums, and my dad was in marching band back in the day… before he discovered football, I think. But I play bass, and the running joke is dammit, I can count to 8, and I’m pretty good at it, and so far that’s always been good enough. Sure, sometimes it’s more like “one, two, doo-de-doo, dun dun dun, and a-seven-and-eight,” but… well that’s how bassists count sometimes, okay?!

So. Science has totally proven that the music you listen to can affect your workout. If you listen to the right stuff, you get pumped. Like, this has been studied. What they can’t quite put their finger on, however, is what ‘good’ workout music is. I can’t exactly explain it either. But I can say this: When I have a bad music day on the ipod, I have a bad workout day at the gym. I don’t know why, but if I can’t manage to synch myself up to the beat, it throws me off completely. If I can’t keep up with a song because I’m tired, it ruins the moment. So I spend at least 1/3 of my workout trying to find the right song for the moment, which is unfortunate. I have a great fantasy idea of how to fix this, but I would have to build an elliptical from scratch and reprogram it entirely… and no I’m not going to explain myself until I get a patent on the idea. Anyways, it’s a cool idea.

Anyways, I had a bummer workout today [I was pretty beat] but, I have been slowly coming to the conclusion that the following bands are [almost] always safe bets for gym time:
#Mindless Self Indulgence
#Chevelle
#Deftones
#the Eels
#Electric Six

The following bands are extremely hit or miss:
#Smashing Pumpkins
#Nine Inch Nails
#Sick Puppies
#Tool
#A Perfect Circle
#Prodigy

There’s still over 1000 songs in my ‘test’ playlist. I’m slogging through them one run at a time… one of these days I’ll have a solid gym playlist. I can’t wait to post it. I don’t have my info with me, but I also can think of bands that seem like they’d be good for the gym, but surprisingly are somehow not. More on that later.

Saturday, November 10, 2012

This is why I suck at the military:

Me, walking to watch… I notice the area ahead is taped off. I’m hoping it’s after the little bend in the hallway so I can cut around instead of having to double back, go downstairs, and then go upstairs, just to get to my shop for some coffee before watch.

 

Girl: Sorry, secured, you’ll have to go around.

Me: Aw, maaannnnn…. Hey, why do you guys do this [stripping & waxing the floor—like the dirtiest floor ever], like, every week?

Girl: [points at guy]

Guy: uhh, we have to.

Me: But, why?

Guy: it’s just our orders… this is the first time we’ve done it this week.

Me: this week. But it’s like every week. Why?

Guy: I dunno, it’s our chief.

Me: well, what’s his deal?

Guy: He’s a chief, I’m a third class… I dunno. He likes to see his face in the floor.

Me: Well, he knows it’s pointless, right?

Guy: …

Me: I mean, it doesn’t even matter…

Guy: …

Me: [leaves, cursing, muttering why?]

 

I think my beef is this: they are the only people who do it that often. It always ruins my effin’ night. And they don’t do it on the other side… you know why? Because they have this lovely rubber matting put down, and that keeps the floor from getting dirty. It’s brilliant. Now why can’t they do that on MY side??

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Run the Gulf

It was brought to my attention that I haven’t written in a while… oops, my bad.
Things are getting really Groundhog Day-y out here, every day revolving around working out and dieting, with a break for shower, and sitting on watch not doing much of anything useful. I haven’t had a lot of time or energy to put into anything even remotely interesting. Except once a week I work with the mail department and absolutely love it. And they love me back. However, my feet and my lower back do not participate in the love-fest.  

So anyways, Run the Gulf is a program put on by our morale department. The Persian Gulf, where we are currently annoying other countries, is 615 miles across. Okay, okay, 618 to be exact, but what is it they say? “Good Enough for Government Work”? Yeah, that. ANY-ways, point being, it’s something they do on deployments. Track your mileage, make the goal, get a free teeshirt and I dunno, a pat on the back or an atta-girl or something.

I was already methodically tracking every step I take on an exercise machine, because I tend to be obsessive about statistics. For example, I have already run about 120 miles since we left WA. Considering we’ve been gone for three months, I’ve really been slacking. The RTG program only started about a week ago, and at my current pace—if my memory serves, which it may not—I average about five miles a day. At that rate, it will take about 120 days [three months] to meet this goal of 615 miles across the metaphorical gulf. It’s a good thing they gave us the rest of deployment to run!

Some of you may be really confused right now. I hate running. Loathe. Despise. Someone give me a thesaurus, I’m not done expressing emotion. But you know what, I gotta keep it up. I have to keep going. So, at least this gives me 1) a clear and concise goal with a tangible reward at a concrete end; as well as 2) a very visual mental image to encourage me. I’ve already noticed an improvement… like the day I totaled over 8 miles. Guys, EIGHT MILES. In ONE DAY. For NO REASON. What is happening to me?? There’s no zombies behind me, nor chocolate cake or beer in front of me… what reason do I have to run? Well… just to say I did, I suppose. It’ll make a good story one day, right?