our song

Do you and your significant other have a song? What about you and your friends? 

There are certain songs that obviously bring you back to a certain time in your life, but there are also certain songs that remind me of certain people. 

The song Lodi Dodi by Snoop Dogg came on my ipod yesterday and it reminded me of my best friend. Now that song could have reminded me of college in general but it very specifically reminded me of my best friend, to the point where I found it hard to think about anybody else while it was playing. All I could picture was singing along with it in the dorm rooms next to her huge ass stereo. 

There are some songs that are pretty obviously chosen because that person and I shared a special memory or moment when that song was playing or related to that song. Some of them just randomly remind me of people and they would probably be surprised to hear that in my mind that is "their song."

Lady in Red by UB40- Matt White 

(Because I was wearing a red shirt at a valentine's day dance and he danced with me to this song.)

Bizarre Love Triangle- Alex M. 

(We were dating my freshman year of high school when it got really popular so it was often on when we talked on the phone.)

Walking in the Sun by Chaka Chan- Brian Y. 

(He played it for me and told me it made him think of me.)

Any song by the Violent Femmes- Katie Cerullo

(Because she first introduced me to them our freshman year.)

Wonderwall- Emily D 

(We made a music video to it!)

Da Dip- Matty Mac 

(We were out with his friends one night and I mentioned to them that Matt did a little dance to that song and he was so embarrassed and mad at me for outing him!) 

Forever by Ben Harper- Travis 

(He used to play it for me on his guitar.)

The Sign by Ace of Base- Dave H. 

(We had a running joke about it.)

anything by Madonna- Luke B.

(He was a DJ at parties in college and played it a lot. People would also take their shirts off at midnight when he played a certain song. What song was it?)

Jump Around- Pat McG

Beast of Burden by The Rolling Stones- Jamie "Red Car"

(We used to listen to it while getting on. He had it on a tape and would stop and rewind it again and again.)

anything by Aerosmith- Margaret Pol 

(She used to have a handmade sign hanging on her wall about how great Aerosmith was in high school.)

Tan Shoes and Pink Shoelaces- Jalin C.

(We lip synced to it for the talent show.)

Stand by R.E.M.- Leah P.

(She was obsessed with REM)

I can't help falling in love with you by Elvis- Chuck V.

(I don't know if this is the song that he did actually sing to Jamie the night of their rehearsal dinner but in my mind it is.)

the song that goes "I still remember, when we used to be 9 years old. I was a fool for you, from the bottom of my soul..." - Rory D.

(because when I WAS 9 years old I had a huge crush on him. And would watch him ride his bike up and down our block.)

Shout- my sister Critter

(We danced to it at her wedding and had a great time.)

Come on Eileen- Tammy (the bball coach)

(Because she hated that it was on all the mixes.)

the album "Street Corner Singing"- my dad

(It was the very first CD we ever bought and had a bunch of great oldies on it. I would put it on and sing and dance around. One time my dad was lying in bed reading and I kept walking past his doorway doing funny dance moves and faces until he FINALLY noticed me and started cracking up.)

Those are just the first ones that came into my head. There are lots more. What is your song? What song do you think of when you think of me?

laughter is truly the best medicine

A client came in tonight and was just super tense. I knew I was going to have my work cut out for me. Work had been crazy. Lots of stress. Knots galore. 

Normally this client falls asleep pretty quickly, but tonight we got to talking. And now don't call PETA on me, I swear I'm not actually an animal torturer, but we got to joking about ways to torture squirrels. I have nothing against squirrels (as long as they are outside where they belong and not in my walls) but knowing many bird lovers, I can commiserate with how big of pests squirrels can be when they are eating all of the food out of your bird feeders. 

I mentioned how my best friend was considering greasing the little dome under the bird feeder so that the squirrels would slide off. I suggested coating it with Nair and then laughing in revenge at the bald squirrels running around. 

There is a window right next to one of my client's bird feeders where my client was contemplating setting up shop and shooting the squirrel in the ass every time it tried to eat from the feeder. The squirrel would hopefully start having a negative association with eating from the feeders and stop. But then we worried that the squirrel might have S&M tendencies and actually like it and keep coming back especially for that. Which of course, led us (in our slap happy state) to imagine the squirrels running around with little leather studded collars on! 

It's probably one of those things where you had to be there to find it really funny, but that's not the point of my story. We found it funny and we were laughing a good, deep belly laugh. The effect the laughter had on my client was visible. Sure, my client still had knots but the tension that they were holding in their neck and shoulders was gone. My client felt a million times better. 

Which got me thinking about the other massages I give. I try not to talk too much during the massages so that my clients can relax, but my favorite clients and the ones who keep regularly coming back tend to be the ones that I laugh with. 

Maybe spas have it all wrong. Screw the candles and the quiet rooms... what they should be surrounding the clients with is jokes and comedy. 

or better yet...

So screw making "thankful lists." I've discovered an even better way to beat the blues... hula hooping! Hula hula, hula hoop. Hula hula, hula hoop. I love to hula hoop! I've seriously have a giddy post hula hooping high going on. This isn't the kind of hula hooping I did as a kid. This is serious stuff with tricks and dancing involved. Why isn't all exercise this fun?

thankful

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. What a weird expression. I tried to find out where that idiom came from and here is what I found- 

"The wrong side of the bed is the one that leaves you grumpy and unsociable first thing in the morning (my own has two wrong sides). There are many similar expressions that begin the wrong side of ..., of which the original seems to be wrong side of the blanket for a child born illegitimately. Some others are getting on the wrong side of somebody, the wrong side of the law, laughing on the wrong side of one’s mouth, and on the wrong side of forty (or thirty, or fifty, or almost any age, really).

All express the idea that there are good and bad aspects of any situation. A well-known American example, the wrong side of the tracks, is the only one of the set that seems to be based in a real, physical location.

Some writers say there was once a superstition that to get out of bed on the left side, the sinister side, led to bad luck, but this sounds like a well-meaning attempt to explain the mysterious. If there ever was such a belief, it’s not reflected in the recorded use of the expression, which is actually not that old; it seems to have been derived from another phrase of similar type."

I wonder if maybe the expression started because, like me, people found themselves cranky from the moment that they woke up and decided that they needed something to blame it on. Today has all the makings of a good day, so why on earth should I be cranky? And yet trying to rationally convince myself that I shouldn't be cranky is like trying to talk sense to a two year old in the midst of a temper tantrum. Sometimes you've just got to ride it out. 

The most successful method that I have found for pulling myself out of a funk is to think about all the things I am thankful for. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. It's a good thing to do nonetheless. 

Things that I am thankful for...

*nobody broke in and killed me in my sleep last night (though the door slamming shut in the middle of the night due to the wind did give me quite a scare)

* I came "so" close to beating June on wordtwist yesterday- but I didn't which still gives me something to strive for- it's good to have goals

* I have a tennis lesson today

* I got up early enough that I could do my laundry so I would actually have some clean clothes today

* I have PMS which means I am not pregnant and as an added bonus have much bigger boobs than normal today

* my sister and I are on a quest to find the house that we saw in Chicago magazine, we know it is in our town somewhere and so we have been walking down different streets trying to find it. Quests are fun. 

* I had pizza from Homemade Pizza this weekend and it was unbelievably delicious

* my room is a very comfortable temperature

* I had two of my favorite clients for back to back 90 minute massages yesterday

* they both made me laugh really hard

* they were both really good tippers

* I got to work early yesterday so I was studying the anatomy books to see which muscles attached onto the ASIS and was reminded of the importance of the pectinius (sp?) muscle (which does NOT attach onto the ASIS) and so I actually worked my client's pectinius muscle (which I never do, due to its location and it is often tender) and she found it to be very helpful. Always good to switch things up! 

* The anatomy book had a fun fact about how some old Greek philosopher guy named the end of our tailbone the "coccyx" because he thought it looked like a cuckoo's beak. Some guy in France in the 18th century mistakenly thought it was called the coccyx because he thought the sound of gas passing through the anus sounded like the cuckoo's call. 

* I get to take a hula hoop class tonight

* I learned that there was a showgirl who worked at the world famous Tropicana nightclub in Havana, Cuba and she was gorgeous and very popular and had a flower named after her in Brazil.

* I heard back from my old boss the other day

* I was on the el the other day just minding my own business and some guy on the platform tapped on the window next to me, I looked up and he blew me a kiss

* I ripped the crotch of my jeans which gives me a legitimate excuse to go shopping for some new clothes today

* I'm healthy

* I love my friends

* my niece had a really kickass birthday party this weekend

* I can remember my dreams

* it is warm enough that I can be barefoot. I love being barefoot but usually freeze to death when I am!

Hmm.... I have to admit, that kind of worked. Or maybe the Midol has finally kicked in. Either way I am feeling better. What are you thankful for today?

lovin' the single life

I have to admit it... I LOVE being single. Love it. This isn't the first time I've been single, but this is the first time I have enjoyed it so much. Usually when I am single it is because I am nursing a heartbreak and getting over some guy. Now I am doing it simply for the joy of being single. 

So what do I love about being single?

1) I get the whole bed to myself. I still just sleep on my half but I don't have anybody encroaching on that half. Nobody is snoring. Nobody is stealing the blankets. Nobody is getting up in the middle of the night and waking me. Don't get me wrong, I like a good cuddle. But I like a good sleep too!

2) There is no drama in my life. None. (deep sigh!) The only drama is because my brother gets pissy about the dishes- see it's always because of a boy! Honestly, I've never felt so at peace in my whole life. 

3) I don't have to worry about if I am paying enough attention to a significant other. I don't have to call anybody, email anybody or make sure I fit enough "quality time" with anybody into my schedule. Don't get me wrong, I haven't turned into a complete recluse or anything.  It is just the fact that nobody is going to get mad at me if I don't call them that makes me happy. 

4) I don't have to take into account other people's needs or wants when I make decisions. I can take tennis lessons. I can stay in on a Saturday night and read a book if I want. I can move to Paris. You can't just up and move to Paris when you have a boyfriend. 

5) I don't have to worry about being pregnant or getting STDs.

6) I can eat foods that make me gassy and not worry if I am tooting in my sleep.

7) I have ridiculous amounts of free time. 

8) I think the whole "no drama" thing deserves to be mentioned again. I don't have to deal with other people's moods or problems. Nobody is putting me through an emotional roller coaster. Nowadays the only time I cry is at sappy movies.

9) I don't have to worry about hurting someone's feelings. Breaking up with someone is the worst thing in the entire world. I hate the feeling of knowing I am hurting someone that I care about. It eats me up inside. Unless you have gone through it, you don't know how bad it feels, so I am not even going to try and describe it. Having been on both sides of the break up, I would say that I would take being the person who is broken up with, rather than the person who does the breaking, EVERY single time. I would much rather have the hurt and the pain and the anger of being broken up with, than the guilt and pain of hurting someone. I get all worked up even just thinking about it. And I don't have to deal with that! Yippee! Hopefully my next relationship will be "the one" and I never have to go through another break up for the rest of my life. 

10) Hope. Instead of just making do with the relationship I am currently in (like some people are doing) I have the hope that I can find someone who really in the yin to my yang. The world is full of possibilities. As I said to my sister, the best part about being single is that there is still a chance that I could meet Zac Efron and sleep with him!

I know that I will get sick of being single at some point. I think it is our connections to others that really brings meaning to our lives. And I will get lonely and just way too horny at some point. Ahhhh! But for right now, I am just basking in peace and happiness of being single. 

the rain

We've been having some glorious weather lately. Temperatures around 80 and bright sunshine. The kind of weather that makes you happy to be alive. The kind of weather that makes you come up with any excuse you can to be outside. And then... the rain came. And with it came the cold. There had to be a good 30 degree drop in temperature from when I got to work to when I left work yesterday. I was walking to the train last night in the pouring rain and, despite my umbrella, was getting quite wet. I was so cold that I was shivering. 

So I stopped at the Walgreen's by the train station because I knew that they sell clothes. But I just couldn't bring myself to spend $24.95 on a sweatshirt that I didn't really want and would probably never wear again. I settled on spending $1.95 for a pair of gloves. A very wise decision. 

I got on to the platform, which thankfully was covered, just as the skies really let loose. I thought it had been raining hard before but this was insane. It literally looked like someone was pouring bucket after bucket of water down. I kept thinking to myself that this rain storm would be awesome if I was watching it at home, curled up all warm and dry on the couch. 

Which of course led me to be very thankful that I have a warm and dry house to go home to. I wondered how the homeless people were fairing last night. Did they make it to a viaduct or underpass in time? Did they get caught out in the rain? Were they gathered around a fire in one of those big metal garbage cans or is that something they only did back in the Depression? Being homeless is a life that I know so little about. I wouldn't last one night as a homeless person. 

The whole reason I am writing this blog today though is because all of that reminded me of a conversation I overheard between two homeless men this past fall. 

1st guy: Hey man, where you going?

2nd guy: I'm gonna find someplace to sleep.

1st guy: Man, we already got some place to sleep (indicating the floor of the vestibule of the bank we were next to, where the ATM was located) Let's go get something to drink.

2nd guy: No man, I want a bed.

1st guy: (shrugging) I want a beer.

And then they walked off in different directions. 

The Rolling Stones said it best...

"You don't always get what you want... but you get what you need."

I walked into work today and was disappointed to see that I only had one client. No clients = no money. 

I've been feeling frustrated lately after working with some long time clients and not seeing any real improvement. I'm using every trick I know and yet their shoulders and low backs and whatever still continue to give them problems. I know that part of it is that they aren't taking care of themselves. They have stressful jobs, sit with terrible posture all week, don't stretch, don't drink water and in some cases won't let me work on the root of the problem because that area of their body is too sensitive. I know that it isn't truly my fault and that by the time they get back to see me, after what they do to their bodies all week,  they are right back where they started so that's why we are not making much progress, but it's hard not to feel like a failure. 

It's only with two or three clients that I feel this way, but they are my favorite clients. I want to help them. And I worry sometimes if I am just not good enough. 

So I was feeling down about that when I got to work today and saw that I only had one client. This client was a woman in her 40s who had rheumatoid arthritis and scoliosis. Basically what that means is that she has chronic pain and it is a constant battle to keep her muscles from becoming super knotted. 

My hands worked their way around her body. Working on a knot here. Easing tension there. Her muscles released a lot (a LOT!)  but I could still feel some tension in her neck when we finished. I know that the body releases at its own rate and that if it took a client weeks or months to get to the point that they are, that it isn't necessarily going to all go away and be fixed in one little hour, but I was still disappointed with myself. Until...

When I finished the massage I went to wash my hands and a few minutes later when my client was ready she came out of the room. She saw me and she had tears of happiness in her eyes and she gave me a big hug and said, "That was far and away the best massage I have ever had. I haven't felt this good in years." 

There is a reason I do this job. Maybe I am cut out for it after all. 

Sometimes you get what you need. 

college newsletter

I just got an email the other day asking me to submit a little paragraph for my college newsletter. 

I hate this. I enjoy reading the newsletter and so feel that I should contribute as well. But what on earth should I write? Usually the updates talk about people getting married, having babies, getting advanced degrees or publishing a book. I have done none of those things. 

What have I done that is newsworthy? 

Do I lie? My sister ran into an old friend of hers after reading their newsletter and said, "Wow, I can't believe you were in the Peace Corp in Africa. And are now working on a cure for cancer. That's amazing!" His response, "I can't believe that you actually bought that!"

Sure, I'd like to be married and have children. But is it a good idea to get married and have children with someone who wasn't right for me just so that I can be married with children? Just so I can say that I accomplished something? I don't think so. 

Should I go back to school and get an advanced degree that I don't care about and spend lots of money to do so, just to impress people? I don't think so. 

Do I write that I am learning and growing and am happy with my life and I don't need you people to judge me, thank you very much! Well, no, I don't write that either. 

I do love my life, so why is that not enough? Do I need to impress people? Or is it simply that I feel that I am capable of so much more than I am doing? I do feel like I am coasting a bit. I could definitely be doing more. 

I suppose that is what this whole "year with Nikki" project is all about. Getting my ass in gear and doing more, accomplishing more so that five years from now I will have lots to write about. 

But you know what, being able to say "I love my life" is no small thing. And so if the most that I can say five years from now is "I still love my life," then I'll take it. Because all the accomplishments in the world won't necessarily make you happy or make you love your life. 

That's all well and good but I still don't know what I should write. Any suggestions?

getting more personal

A friend asked me today if I take suggestions for subject topics. Of course. You ask, I shall deliver. Or at least try to. 

Hmmm... that has got me thinking- what subjects would I be uncomfortable talking about? I'd like to keep this web site fairly clean so I think I will steer clear of sex talk. I try not to talk about stupid things like boy drama. I suppose I could be slightly more personal in my blogging, tell you more intimate details about my life but I worry about going to the other extreme and sharing just too much information. Where do I draw the line? 

I don't want to share too many personal issues/problems, but perhaps I could share more personal stories. 

I could share with you the story of my first kiss. Do you remember your first kiss? It happened in sixth grade. Valentine's Day actually. February 14th, 1991. People often say that you couldn't pay them to go back to high school. High school, I'd be okay with. But I would never want to go back to sixth grade for all the money in the world. The most awkward stage of my puberty. Granted, it was the early 90s so everyone and everything was pretty ugly (and neon) but I swear I could have won the fugliness award. My bangs had a life of their own. My glasses were like the bottoms of two coke bottles, nestled inside large plastic frames. My clothes was thankfully not an issue since we wore uniforms. But it was the start of the acne that still plagues me to this day. One of my most mortifying moments came in science class. I (unknowingly) had a zit on my face that erupted and a boy that I had a crush on said, "Dude! Your face is bleeding!" I rushed down to the bathroom in tears. 

Did I mention that I weighed 175 pounds?! 

Dear Lord, THANK YOU for letting me survive that and grow up! 

On a side note, if people ever compliment me now, it still takes me by surprise because part of me still sees myself as that ugly and awkward little girl. 

But back to my story... Valentine's Day at my small Catholic grade school was a pretty big deal. We got to dress up. People who never had to wear uniforms to school probably don't understand how exciting it is to wear normal clothes to school. The closest thing I could compare it to is when some companies let you wear jeans to work on casual Fridays. Woohoo! 

We had normal classes in the morning but in the afternoon the upper grades (5-8) got to go into the gym for a dance. A few streamers, a couple balloons, a poster and a mix tape- you know, the works! 

It would always start out as the cliched grade school dance. The boys on one side of the gym and the girls on the other. But then some of the "couples" would start dancing and eventually everyone worked up the nerve to get on the dance floor. There are some songs, like Without You by Motley Cru, that always take me right back to those dances. 

I have to say that one of the benefits of going to a small, horrible Catholic school (parents, you should NEVER send your child to one!) is that because we were so small (18 kids in my grade) and had known each other forever, I was never ostracized. People danced with me at the dances and I hung out with friends after school. 

After the dance was over a group of us went over to David H.'s house. We went down into the family room in his basement (I remember there being a lot of blue plaid)  and Amy (who was soooo much more advanced than we were) suggested we play Spin the Bottle. I was so nervous. And while David and I flirted some, I knew full well that Rory and Ben were hoping that they didn't have to kiss me. I can't say as that I really blame them either! We busted out a coke bottle and positioned ourselves in a circle. David's turn came up and he landed right on me. We leaned in and gave each other a closed lip peck on the mouth that lasted approximately one second.

So totally uneventful, and yet I still remember it to this very day. 

cab drivers

Have you ever noticed how the right or wrong cab driver can make all the difference in your night? As someone who is fairly shy and introverted, I don't tend to talk to my cabbies that much. Unless I am drunk. And then apparently, I become best friends with my cab driver. 

On a side note, some people really do become "best friends" with their cabbies. I have two friends who ended up dating their cab drivers. The first girl was wasted and was having a horrible night and got into the front seat of the cab. I realize that people sit in the front seat of cabs all the time- when they are in a group of four! She was by herself. Anyways, they started talking and hit it off. Turns out she was looking for an apartment and ended up moving in with him a week later. Did I mention she was crazy? She ended up moving back to Boston a few months later. 

The other friend was sober and just hit it off with the guy. They exchanged numbers and went on a date later that week. That was a few years ago. Now they are married.

My cab driver last night was from Tunisia in Africa where he played soccer. Well, duh? Doesn't everyone there play soccer? He actually did it as his job. He was a midfielder. He moved here seven years ago and lives with his cousin. His dad, back in Africa, is an interior designer. And he told me all of this in French. 

Which makes me wonder if his dad was really an interior decorator. Or if I just completely heard that wrong. Does it matter? I got home safely, I got to practice my French and he told me that I was his favorite customer of the night! 

It has to be such a weird job being a cab driver. I'm sure it can be really interesting at times. But can you imagine having to cart around drunk people all night? And not adorable, French speaking drunk girls like myself, but smelly frat boys who might puke at any second kind of drunks. 

My favorite experience with a cab driver was when I was coming home from Emily's birthday party last year. Again, I had a few drinks in me and was much more talkative than normal. My cab driver that night was a lover of classical music. 

Cabbie: Do you like classical music?

Drunken Nikki: Oh my god! Yes! I looooove classical music. (not my first choice of music, but I do like it so why not humor the guy)

Cabbie: Oh! oh! Let me play you a song! (and then shuffles through the thirty or so CDs that are sitting on the passanger seat)

Drunken Nikki: (um, please watch the road, this is why I am taking a cab and not driving myself, please watch the road, oh god we are going to die)

Cabbie: Aha! I found it! Do you like Braham (sp?) ?

Drunken Nikki: Of course!  (in my head, "who?")

Cabbie: Well, you've probably heard Braham's lullaby but I bet you've never heard him like this before! (cranked up the volume)

Drunken Nikki: (eyes closed, swaying to the music, huge smile on my face) 

Cabbie: Do you like it?

Drunken Nikki: Oh yeah! This is awesome.

Cabbie: Oh, let me play you another...

And then since I had my camera on my lap and the guy was cracking me up, I asked him if I could take his picture. Which made him extremely happy.  We chitchat a little more and he plays me a few more songs. So we finally pull up in front of my apartment...

Cabbie: You have been such a wonderful rider. Can I play you a song?

Drunken Nikki: Sure, that would be great! (thinking that he is going to put another CD on)

Cabbie: (reaches under his seat and pulls out a two foot long wooden flute!!! and starts playing some elfin fairy music)

Drunken Nikki: (applauding vigorously) Oh my god! That was so good. You are amazing! Can I get another picture? (thinking that nobody would believe this story if I didn't have proof!)

I enjoy these little drunken run-ins very much. Makes me think I should try talking to my cabbies more often. Of course, it also depends on the cabbie. I had one who actually said to me, "Tell me something interesting..." It is not my job to entertain him! Talk about pressure! 

What's the weirdest or best cab experience that you have ever had? Have you ever befriended your cabbie? 

anecdote #2

Spring has finally sprung. How do I know this? Because the world is being taken over by ants. Ants are everywhere. They are in the backroom, in the kitchen, on the sidewalk, and most importantly, in the spa. Every year we have issues with ants at the spa. In fact, we have a very strict "no eating in the massage rooms" policy because of them. Yet the fact that there is absolutely no food for them does not seem to deter them in the least. 

Last week I was working on a client and saw a black fuzzy on top of the sheet. "That's odd," I thought, "because none of our sheets, towels and robes are black so where does a black fuzzy come from?" Turns out it was not a black fuzzy, it was a big black ant crawling over my client. Luckily that client happened to be one of my coworkers so it was no big deal. 

What are the chances that an ant is going to crawl up to the second story of a building, into a room with no food and then on top of my client?! Pretty slim, right? I figured it was just an isolated incident and I would never have to deal with that again. Right? Wrong! Yesterday I had two more ants crawl up onto the table on clients! 

What are they possibly looking for? I noticed the first one when it started crawling on my hand, not a real big deal. The other one I noticed on the table trying to crawl underneath my client's boob as she was laying face down. Dilemma! What to do? Do I just let it crawl under? Do I tell my client? Or did I make the right decision when I quickly grabbed the ant, threw it on the floor and stepped on it? Of course that means that I had to quickly brush against my client's boob to grab the ant and she probably thought I was trying to cop a feel. 

why do you read?

Do you read for pleasure or to learn something? Of course, you could argue that it is a pleasure to learn something. 

Everyone in my family reads a lot. It's almost an addiction. A friend from grade school still teases me to this day about the time she invited me over to go swimming and I declined, saying, "Sorry, but I'm in the middle of a really good book." Everyone in my family reads different sorts of books. My mom reads murder mysteries, my sister (along with other things) reads romance novels, my brother reads thrillers, my dad reads more scientific or factual things and the odd book on math theory. I read everything. I try to read one non-fiction book for every two fiction books that I read. 

So is one type of book better than another? I say yes. I read science fiction. I read Harry Potter. I read current best sellers. I read 18th century French novels. (I have a lot of time on my hands.) But I find I don't have much to say to people after immersing myself in a sci-fi book for a week. I count recount the plot of the book but nobody really cares. However, I can now tell you everything that I am learning about the mob in Cuba in the 1950s (from the non-fiction book I am reading) and you might actually be interested. It makes me a more intelligent and more interesting person. 

So are fiction books totally worthless? What do we get from them? I think they can influence the way we think and feel. They can stir up emotions. They can teach us about morals. I think I learned more about morals by reading Louisa May Alcott books than I did going to Catholic school. 

Plus they can take us away. We escape into a different world filled with different characters and plots and that lets us forget about our own problems for a while. I would have to say that reading a book is a much better way to get away from our problems than say, drinking alcohol or doing drugs. 

And fiction books are enjoyable. There's a lot to be said for that. Some of the non-fiction books that I read are enjoyable. But others read like school textbooks and I read them solely to get information out of them. 

Where does the news fall in all this? Do you read the news every day? I try to. I definitely don't read it as much as I should and I don't read as many sources as I should. Hmm, the word "should" keeps popping up. Nobody is going to say that you "should" read 18th century French literature, but they will say that you "should" read the daily paper. Is reading about another murder that happened in Chicago going to really benefit me? Maybe as it warns me that I should probably avoid that area and informs me of a growing crime/gang problem in Chicago. Mostly it is just going to depress me. 

When my mom was struggling and emotionally distraught when she was going through cancer, her doctor suggested that she stop watching the news. Would we be a happier and more optimistic nation if we stopped watching the news? Or would we just be an ignorant nation? And why do only negative things seem to get deemed noteworthy enough to mention in the news? If there ever actually is a happy story in the news people will make comments like, "oh, it must be a slow news day!" Must it be? Must we only focus on the negatives? 

When my sister was in the hospital I would look up news stories every morning to entertain her with and to help her keep current. Sick of all the negativity, I would occasionally turn to happynews.com to hear about something positive every once in a while. 

The reading I do falls into different categories. The things that I feel I should read, need to read, want to read to improve myself and things that I enjoy reading. Why do you read?

internet dating

We all know people who have found their significant other via an online dating website. The sites really work. Yet, there is still a bit of a stigma to them that only desperate losers go on them. Totally not true. I know many friends who have done or are currently doing online dating. So the question I am asking myself is do I want to do it?

I was taking a look at match.com today to see what was out there. They let you search profiles for free. You just have to pay if you want to contact someone. The catch is that you have to create a profile to be able to search. And you have to write at least 200 characters about yourself and what you are looking for. They won't let you leave it blank. They obviously know what they are doing with this because otherwise everyone would leave it blank!

You can also add profiles of guys that you like to "your favorites" list so that you can find them again easily. I did this to a few profiles that I liked, not realizing that when you do that it sends a notice to the person telling them that you added them to your favorites list! Doh! 

So the question that I was dealing with today is what on earth do you write about yourself in a personal ad? Should you be completely honest? Do I admit that I wear jeans and t-shirts pretty much every single day so that I can find a guy who is down with that? Or do I omit it for fear of scaring off a guy that would potentially be a great match and who probably wouldn't care about that once he got to know me? Do you totally talk yourself up? Or should you be more realistic? Do you write the basic (a.k.a. boring) profile or do you try and make yourself stand out? 

I decided to start off my profile with the sentence "I like to skydive naked." I figured if nothing else it would grab their attention. 

So as I am doing this... just minding my own business... I received an email. But they won't let you see the email unless you sign up. They won't even let you see who it is from. What can I say, curiosity got the better of me so I signed up for a one month subscription. The email was from one of the guys that I had put in my favorites list. Now I have to decide what to do. Do I write him back? Do I ignore it? Do I write him back and explain to him that he seems really nice but I don't really want to date right now (even though I am searching on match.com but it is just for my own amusement)?

It's an interesting idea to date someone based on a list of facts (hair and eye color, smoking and drinking habits, etc) and what they write about themselves.  I don't know that I would have dated any of my ex boyfriends based on their profiles. Then again, I'm no longer with any of those boys so maybe there is some merit to it. 

what celebrity are you?

I don't think I know a single girl who doesn't love gossip magazines. Rich women and poor women alike enjoy the mindless entertainment that it provides. My coworkers scramble to be the first to read the new issues that come in. I'm not going to go into why we like them. Most of us admit that it is not something we are particularly proud of and often call it "our guilty pleasure." The fact is, we do like them and do read them. I can tell you way more about celebrity news than I would like to admit. 

Reading all of the celebrity gossip got me thinking about how glad I am to not be a celebrity. If all of the stupid things that I did and breakdowns that I had got caught on tape I would end up being the next Brittany Spears. Okay, maybe I wouldn't be quite that bad. So who would I be? Which celebrity, according to what you see printed in Us Weekly, People, etc., are you the most like? Are you a hip urban mom like Gwen Stefani? Are you a flustered mother of twins who wishes the father would help out more like Jennifer Lopez? Are you a drama queen like Heidi Montag? 

I've decided that the celeb whose life seems most like mine is Drew Barrymore. Her wild days seem to be behind her. And she is mostly known for falling hard for boys but not having her relationships last more than a year or two. 

Who would you be? 

ridiculous person of the day #1

So a client comes in today for a ninety minute treatment. She is running a little late but that isn't the real problem, the problem is that she has her 10 year old daughter with her. Why? Her daughter wasn't feeling well (but don't worry, she wasn't vomiting and didn't have a fever, the mother assured us.) The daughter was on spring break and since she wasn't feeling well she just "wanted some mommy time." So the mom's brilliant solution? She would bring the daughter with and the girl could sit in the waiting area for about two hours while the mom got a massage. Seriously?! Wow, talk about quality time together! 

How many kids should you have?

How many kids should a person have? Is there a universal number that we can all agree on or should it be decided on a case by case basis? 

From what I've seen, two seems to be the magic number. Several of my friends and family already have two kids and have decided that they are done. They only want two kids?! When my best friend, for example, told me that she and her husband didn't plan on having any more kids, I was surprised. I'm not sure why I was surprised, I never pictured them with a brood of eight or anything. I guess part of me always envisioned having kids at the same time as my friends or as my siblings. Seeing our children grow up together. Throwing joint birthday parties for them. Vacations together at the lake. All that crap. So to hear that my friends are done having kids when I haven't even started sort of took me by surprise. Part of me is sad, obviously. Part of me is jealous that they have kids and I don't. But mainly I think it is cool that my kids will have older kids to look up to. And I do take some pleasure in knowing that I have lived a really fun life that I couldn't have lived if I already had kids, plus I can still experience all that. I still have so much to look forward to. Meeting the love of my life. Getting married. Getting pregnant. Having children. Hearing their first word. Seeing their first steps. That is all still ahead of me. Which is pretty cool. 

But back to the numbers issue. Why only two kids? There are obviously factors that go into this decision. A major one is definitely money. Kids are expensive. College tuitions are ridiculous (I don't even want to think about what they will be 25 years from now!) Most people (unless you are the Octo-Mom) want to make sure that they can afford to raise their children and to do so in a manner that lets them continue to live comfortably. Is it fair to bring children into this world if you can't afford to give them health care and food and shelter? I think almost everyone would agree that you shouldn't have kids if you couldn't afford that stuff. But what if you can cover that stuff but can't afford new soccer cleats and tuba lessons and books? These things aren't necessities, so how important are they?

Another factor to consider is overpopulation. I don't think you could ever tell people that they can't have children. There is just something built into our genes that makes us want to procreate. But should we do something like China where we limit the amount of children that a couple is allowed to have to just one or two? This policy does make sense. According to Wikipedia (I know, such a trustworthy source) "Chinese authorities thus consider the policy as a great success in helping to implement China's current economic growth. The reduction in the fertility rate and thus population growth has reduced the severity of problems that come with overpopulation, like epidemics, slums, overwhelmed social services (such as health, education, law enforcement), and strain on the ecosystem from abuse of fertile land and production of high volumes of waste."

I can not ever imagine them passing such a policy in the United States. However, is it our duty as intelligent, socially and environmentally conscious people to take it upon ourselves to limit the number of children we have to do our part to stop overpopulation? 

What about making the number of children you are allowed to have be based on merit? I'm not saying I agree with this, I'm just throwing it out there. Should super intelligent or super talented people be allowed to have more children to help improve the gene pool?

I think a subconscious factor is what we grew up with. I have often noticed that people who grew up in a family with two kids think that having two kids is the right number. Whereas, people who grew up in a family with three kids often think three is a good number. Maybe this isn't true, but I grew up in a family of six kids and I think six sounds like a pretty good number. I love being part of a huge family and want my kids to be able to experience that. 

Am I going to have six kids? Probably not, for the above stated reasons. So how many? I would never want to have an only child (though I do know a few who turned out alright! :) ) Two kids would be okay, but a lot of children that I have seen who only have one sibling (especially if it is a sibling of the same sex) tend to be overly competitive with their sibling. Three seems like a pretty good number. You have to take into consideration that you are going to mess up a lot with the first one, seeing as how you've never had a kid before. The second one gets easier (unless it is Ella!) and then you have got it down and can really enjoy it when you have the third. Ah, it's fun to just make random statements like that. Check back in with me again once I actually have kids and see if my tune has changed! 

These are some of the factors that will influence my decision to have kids. I am curious though, what other factors have influenced your decisions? Please do tell. 

newfound respect for strippers

Wow. All I can say is wow. I have never been to a strip joint. But I have seen footage here and there of strippers in action. And I never really was impressed by what they do but now I have to give them props.

I went to my first (and possibly last) pole dancing class tonight. The "gym" that offers the class is women only and in addition to having pole dancing classes they also have classes by the names of "basic boxing for babes", "chair striptease", "hip hop booty camp" and "salsalicious" to name a few. I expected (as an independent and educated woman) to be offended when I walked in. Instead I found it surprisingly welcoming and empowering. 

I think (though I have no actual evidence) that all women want to be able to pole dance. Not on stage for a group. But we want to feel sexy. We want to turn on our significant other. 

So why don't more women pole dance? Um, because it's pole dancing. A) we don't want to be seen as whores. And B) we don't want to be seen as whores. The way I would describe this all women gym would probably be "Curves for sluts." This really isn't an accurate description of the place at all. Most of the women in the place were your average work-a-day women who just wanted to try something fun and new- and who were getting a great workout in the process.

And let me tell you something... pole dancing is f'ing hard! I wanted to kick the instructor (all 100 pounds of her!) in the head. She made it seem so effortless. Floating around that pole like a butterfly. I did not float like a butterfly. I more or less mauled the pole like a drunken frat boy. 

For those of you who really know me, you know that I am athletic. I have been playing sports all of my life. But I am not particularly graceful. Okay, so "huge klutz" might be a more fitting description. And while I am good at a skill after I learn it, I don't pick up on things right away. It takes a few times. Case in point, I once joined a step aerobics class that had a bunch of regulars in it. The class went pretty fast and I had never done the routine before. I got the basic gist of it but messed up a time or two. I did okay... or so I thought. After class a mentally handicapped kid in the class came up to me and told me that he could give me some pointers if I wanted. Ouch! 

But back to the pole dancing... it is possible that after several more classes I might finally get the basics down. I might be able to spin around the pole without banging my knee or falling on my ass. Maybe. I believe that could actually happen. But to do it and actually look sexy? 

I am at a loss for words to describe how utterly not sexy I felt tonight. It didn't help that there was an advanced student on the pole behind me that was climbing the pole up to the ceiling and then doing the splits around the pole as she slid her way down. Nor did it help that when we do our "sexy front bend" I look like I am having back spasms. 

Am I glad I did it? Definitely. I tried something new that I had never done. I went outside my comfort zone. I used muscles that I had not used in a long time (possibly never.) 

But I will admit that this week has been a bit of a rough one for me. I took on two new things that I suck at.  Not the most ego-boosting week ever. I want to do something that I am really good at to make myself feel better- my sister's suggestion? Eating. Thanks, Sam. 

Will I try pole dancing again? I'm not sure. It's a possibility but there are other things that I want to try first.  I do have another tennis lesson next week though. And the best part? I don't have to try to look sexy while doing it! 

Tennis

The results are in. The people have spoken (all four of you) and you have decided that tennis shall be the next new skill that I learn. 

Tennis. What a great game. I have always wanted to play. Let me clarify that, I have always wanted to play well. I have technically played before.  I have hit a ball around with friends or with my brother from time to time and enjoyed myself immensely. Not being able to serve or serve-receive, however,  has severely limited my game. Instead of just wishing that I would miraculously get better, I decided to do something about it. So today I had my first tennis lesson. 

I walked into the tennis club not knowing what to expect. My first thought was that I hoped I would have a hunk of a hottie tennis instructor. Then along comes Sean. I don't know that I would say he was a hunk, but he was kind of cute.  More importantly, however, he was very nice and VERY patient. I had no idea how little I knew about the basics of tennis. He changed my grip so that instead of having an eastern grip I now have more of a western grip?? Huh? All I know is that when you suddenly have to start holding the tennis racket differently (after years of holding it one way) you suddenly feel like it is the first time you have ever held a racket. And I don't mean that in a good way- like a "suddenly I know how to hold the racket and this all makes sense!" kind of way. I mean it more in the "holding the racket like this and trying to swing it makes me look like I never really mastered my basic motor skills" sort of way. 

I realized that one little hour lesson was not going to turn me into the professional player that I long to be. So more lessons are forthcoming. As I left the club this afternoon one thought kept going through my head... why didn't I take this up in high school when I could have been taught for free!?!

Better late than never. One of the things that motivated me to take up tennis was a client of mine. This client is around forty years old and plays tennis competitively (almost every weekend.) I assumed that she had grown up playing tennis and I was jealous that I hadn't grown up playing tennis. It turns out that she only decided to start playing tennis around four years ago. She, like myself, had not grown up playing tennis. Who knew? Another client had always wanted to play the cello, so when she was thirty-five she just signed up for lessons. 

I always hear about people who say how much they regret that they didn't stick with their piano lessons when they were a kid and how they wish they knew how to play now. Well, ya know what? It's not too late! You can still do it. You life doesn't have to end when you hit twenty-five or when you have kids. Spoken as only a person without kids can speak! I'm not saying it is easy, I am saying it is doable. 

And it's not easy. I am used to being good at things. I play soccer and volleyball weekly and while I am not outstanding, I am good. I have all the skills down. (Well, apart from serving, but we won't go there.) I sit here typing at my computer, doing easily 45 words a minute and I don't even have to think about it. But there was a time when I DID have to think about it. I used to hunt and peck. But I took lessons. And I learned. And I practiced. And I practiced.  And I practiced. It is okay to be bad at things when you are younger. It is expected. But as we become adults, it is hard to accept that we aren't automatically good at things. My tennis lesson today was pretty humbling. 

Humbling... but awesome! I can't wait for my next one. So to all of you people out there who have hidden dreams and desires tucked away on the shelves somewhere, it is time to take them down, dust them off, put away your pride and your excuses and go do that thing you always wanted to do!