Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Blue Man Group

What can I say about the Blue Man Group? They were wonderful and I can't wait to see them again someday!


We went to Boston to see them and spent some time in Chelsea Market; saw a couple of really good street performers; and took pictures in between laughing our butts off.



They don't allow pictures to be taken during the show but of course we did at the end anyway. (Yeah, I'm like that) I'm told some guy off to the side was starting to yell at us but I only took a couple of pictures and I guess he decided it wasn't worth the hassle of trying to reach us.
They did pose with us outside the show which was great. And I took the opportunity to touch one blue head because they look wet. Well...they ARE wet! And because I touched him...he touched me! I was BLUED! And it was great!



They don't speak...ever. But they are very accommodating with pictures and posing. It was a great compensation for not letting us take pictures during the show.

Yes, there still are pay phones!













Saturday, April 23, 2011

Back In The Saddle Again





All my adult life I've been the one that over does something (usually something fun) and pays dearly for it later. Maybe it's the child in me that isn't ready to pack up the game and go home yet. Maybe I'm in denial about my aging self. Maybe I just immerse myself so deeply into things I enjoy, that I just can't grasp the concept of less is more and more may be too much. Maybe I have a touch of the moron gene, who knows?

Whatever quirks in my personality led me to this, I find myself once more in line for the 'Bet You Wish You Didn't Do That Now' award or the even more prestigious 'You're Back Again?' trophy! These awards and trophies are handed out of course...in physical therapy. For those of you that know me well, I'm sure you recognize my pattern of having fun; injure self- not fun anymore; therapy; having fun again. I'm currently in the 'therapy' section of the behavior pattern although I have to admit it's kind of fun this time too! And it's my knees that need attention this time. They both decided to have tendonitis...at the exact same time no less. Clever knees, eh? They've always been in competition with each other.

I am currently taking my physical therapy in a new place located in Glastonbury which just happens (can I be so lucky?) to be right down the road from where I now work. I am beginning to realize also that when you have physical therapy in a 'rich' town, you get a facility that offers better treatment options. This place has a therapy pool! It feels like I am being somehow rewarded for injuring myself because I did not moderate my physical activity. And this time I've even met a fellow crazy (in the pool of course) that is also a nominee in the same categories as myself. I was amazed that we had so much in common (injury wise) and enjoyed swapping stories back and forth of how we injured ourselves while engaging in activities that 'normal humans' try to avoid. We also share that special idiot gene that makes us want to do it more if it hurts a little bit...thinking that we just need to work the kinks out...when in fact that little pain is the body telling us to stop it....stop it now! His sense of humor was delightfully quick, slightly twisted, and completely in tune with mine. He held nothing back....telling me not to touch that grate on the side of the pool (as I reached my hand out to touch it) because it would release the shark and I'm not at level 5 yet, which is when I will be using the 'therapy shark'. He threw out one line after another and kept us laughing so hard it was difficult to pay attention to the exercise I was supposed to be doing.

There would be a lull occasionally when Michelle (our therapist) would give us instructions to change exercises but he always clicked back into his stand up routine (ironic because he was doing squats at the time) whenever he sensed an opportunity was coming his way. He calmly proclaimed that I should take care to follow Michelle's instructions carefully because the underwater camera would catch everything I did wrong....and of course all the therapist's would have a great time watching my mistakes later in slow motion and fast motion...probably adding their own voice overs as well and laughing their heads off, but not to worry...I would get a chance to see it once it was posted on You Tube!

When I asked Michelle what a particularly odd looking contraption was on the side of the pool he immediately said don't turn that on!....it's the fire-arch and it's only used for level 10 air squats over the pool! I pictured ribbons of fire arching over the pool and people trying to do squats over the pool while avoiding burning their hair! We were in stitches during the entire session.
That apparatus turned out to be something used to wash out the eyes of anyone that complained about the chlorine burning their eyes. The idea of spraying water into someone eyes with those nozzles sounded worse to me than the fire arch did.

Ah but all good things must come to an end and my new therapy buddy (who's name I didn't get) had to go. I finished my exercises while he got dressed. He did return to throw out a few more one liners and left us chuckling with ridiculous images in our heads.

Then it was my turn to get out of that warm pool and into the cold room air...at least it felt cold once I had been in that lovely pool. That's when I discovered his earlier warning that I would have difficulty getting out of the pool was not a joke after all, as I had thought it was. My legs had become jelly. Jelly does not lend itself to climbing pool stairs and getting up that ladder turned out to be the hardest thing I'd done all day. I had realized when I first started my exercises in the pool that my knees felt it right away and I thought they felt 'tired'. But when I tried to get these tired knees to climb they suddenly became uncooperative and I had to engage my arms to convince them I wasn't kidding....I'm getting out! I felt a tiny wave of panic at the thought that just getting up that 4 step ladder was something I had to work at and then I forced myself to do it. But standing next to the pool turned out to be even harder. I was standing and my knees were screaming 'sit down dummy, I'm not holding you up'!! I had another panicky few seconds (briefly thinking this must be what it's like to be old) and then forced myself to walk (trying to look casual instead of robotic) to the shower room. My skin was very unhappy with the chlorine from the pool and even after the shower, continued to itch and smell extremely 'pool-ish' for the rest of the evening.

As time rolled on and I finished the errands I needed to do around town before going home for the night, I began to really feel the effects of my pool work out. Ibuprofen wasn't going to cut it this time...this was real pain. And I'm not talking just knee pain...my entire body joined in the chorus of silent screaming. Everything hurt and I began to move in disjointed motions with a grimace on my face, trying to get everything done so I wouldn't have to move much. Eventually I ended up with two wine coolers in me and a slightly dazed smile on my face (I'm a light weight when it comes to drinking) while I watched a movie. Ahhhhhh that's better....much better.

The next morning, to my surprise, I wasn't in a lot of pain. I felt like I'd had a work out of course and there was some grumbling in the knee joints but overall not bad at all and no pain reliever was needed. This is good! I even feel like my knees are stronger. I don't know how I can tell that but I can. I almost feel like I could go running....but I've been warned by Michelle that if I do anything that stupid while she's my therapist, I will most definitely be the next winner of the 'Bet You Wish You Didn't Do That Now' award and she WILL post my sessions on You Tube! I can hear the laughter in my head now as my therapy buddy runs my clip backwards in slow motion and asks the therapist next to him to pass the popcorn.

*the photos here are not my actual therapy place but they are very very close to what my place looks like.*

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Mine

It was a wonderful evening and I was sorry to see it end. Good conversation; excellent food; many laughs. And I walked out the door knowing I was taking the best part home...and it's all mine!






Dessert!

Friday, April 8, 2011

Not A Morning Person


A typical morning during the week can often go something like this:


Wake in the morning repeatedly hitting the snooze alarm until hand hurts. Lay in bed slowly opening eyes. Waiting for brain fog to clear.

Get out of bed and stretch. Take mental inventory of everything that hurts. Note things that hurt today that never hurt before. Wonder briefly what will hurt tomorrow.

Head to bathroom for shower; say good morning to the hamster. (The hamster is banned to the bathroom when he’s too loud at night.)

Sit on toilet while talking nonsense baby talk to hamster….do my business. When finished, stub toe on cabinet, swear out loud. Apologize to hamster. Get in shower.

Water is too cold; gasp out loud. Get soap in my eye. Blast water into face; choke and cough. Listen to hamster laughing.

Towel dry and brush hair; add hair gel to hair. Put in contacts. Head back to bedroom.

Watch news while putting on work clothes. Talk out loud to news people on television. Feel fat. Look in full length mirror; feel even fatter.

Change clothes 3 more times; give up. Eye still hurts. Tell weatherman his forecast is crazy. Realize he can’t hear you…repeat again anyway in softer voice.

Work out briefly on Total Gym. Hurt new muscle area due to not enough stretching done; swear again. Listen to hamster laughing again. Limp downstairs.

Pack knapsack for work. Prepare dog food. Take dogs out to pee…limping.

Tell dogs to pee seventeen times….tell them 3 more times. Bring dogs back in house after peeing. Take off leashes and tell them they can maul each other in the living room. This is how they play.

Listen to dogs maul each other in living room while finishing dog food prep. Feed dogs. Take dogs back outside to poop. Tell dogs to poop/potty seventeen times….tell them 3 more times. Praise dogs for finally pooping. Limp back inside.

Let dogs maul each other in living room again. Hobble upstairs to put on makeup and finish hair.

Use curling iron to bend hair in opposite direction. Get frustrated with hair; make empty threats in mirror to shave complete head. Give up.

Use magnified hand mirror to put on makeup. See tiny lines on face as huge ruts. Feel old.

Finish makeup. Convince self that badly twisted frizzy hair is sexy and all the rage. Give laughing hamster warning look.

Brush teeth. Note teeth could use whitening. Remember whitening causes screaming while drinking cold water. Decide to get whitening strips on the way home anyway…the pain is worth it.

Notice sagging skin around neck area. Wonder briefly if neck skin will ever reach the shoulders. Make mental note to buy more turtleneck sweaters. Rinse and spit.

Return to bedroom. Pick up clothes previously tried on and thrown on floor. Glance in mirror again. Cover mirror with discarded clothes. Feel better.

Climb on Total Gym again. Do more exercise. Pull a muscle in the back. Complain bitterly out loud to no one that this isn’t fair and hobble downstairs bent forward.

Put dogs back in pens. Clean up toys they murdered while mauling each other in the living room. Leave chew toys in pens for dogs. Tell them to be good. See dogs eye each other and grin knowingly.

Swing knapsack on back…causing back pain. Swear again. Decide to carry knapsack in hand. Put pocketbook on shoulder. Limp bent over to door. Lock door on way out. Notice jacket caught in door. Fix this. Is that the dogs laughing?

Hobble to garage like hunchback. Put knapsack and pocketbook in car. Try to sit in car. Do this gingerly. Listen for laughing neighbors. Start car.

Wait forever for car engine to heat up. Car is old. Turn on radio. Listen to idiots on radio while watching the clock. Try pulling car out of garage.

Car stalls. Swear again. Wonder briefly if other hunchbacks usually swear so much.

Start car. Let fully heat up this time. Use waiting time to dig knuckles into back muscles trying to ease pain. Start to sweat.

Drive to work. Change radio station constantly. Try to find comfortable position for back while driving. Fail at this. Drive rest of the way hunched forward and tilted slightly to the right trying to look ‘casual‘ to other drivers passing by.

Park car in side parking lot to avoid overly tight parking spaces in main lot. Give self smug look in overhead mirror because large parking space has been secured.

Pick up knapsack and pocketbook. Edge gingerly out of car to avoid pain. Fail at this. Swear softly and grit teeth. Resolve to try to swear less.

Teeth gritting is mistaken for morning smile by co-worker. Co-worker is a morning person. Co-worker gives cheerful hello with a big smile and wave.

Present fake happy morning face; force a smile and wave. Walk slowly to side entrance…softly cursing happy morning co-worker.

Enter building slowly. Door closes too fast bumping into back. Jump forward and yelp in pain. Happy co-worker thinks it’s singing so bursts into song herself. Fake happy face becomes look of horror on my face.

Hobble quickly and awkwardly to elevator. Happy co-worker coming up fast. Dodge her by stepping into first floor ladies room.

Step into stall. Accidentally knock spare toilet paper roll to floor. Watch it roll across the floor out of sight. Sigh with frustration. Use other roll.

Peek out door to make sure happy co-worker is gone. Clear up toilet paper on floor. Sneak to elevator quietly.

Reach office /settle in/make a cup of tea/sign on to computer. Emit small scream and spill tea when happy co-worker springs around the corner singing another song.

Tell happy co-worker you don’t feel well. You think you have the plague…feel very contagious. Cough and do gagging sounds to convince happy co-worker. She leaves. Smile at computer screen. Hamster would be proud of you.

Laugh like hamster.

Sunday, April 3, 2011

At Gramma's




It's a completely normal thing for a 7 yr old to dress up at Gramma's house.
I wish I was 7 yrs old again.