Making Peace with the Morning
I don’t do mornings. I mean, if I have to, I will. Three days a week, it’s my responsibility to get Big I on the very early bus. The days when it’s not? I’m praying that Lil C sleeps in until at least 9.
So, when I was told last week that I had to schedule my physical therapy early in the morning since the office will be closing for the afternoon on one of my days, I begrudgingly made my appointment and told myself one day wouldn’t kill me. It’s true. One day wouldn’t kill me, but one day quickly turned into two days when I showed up early today (not the day I was supposed to show up early).
My PT looked at me kind of funny when I walked in. "What?" I asked him, "not used to seeing me in the morning or do I look that bad?"
He laughed and said, "No, it’s just that you’re not supposed to be here until after 3 today."
"But you have a half day today!" I said.
"That’s Friday," he said and laughed some more.
I hate exercising in the morning and now I’m going to have to do it twice in one week. Apparently I’m trying to kill myself.
I spent the entire weekend slacking on my exercises. I figured that my dancing to one Prince song and "In Da Club" was exercise enough. I was sore after that, even though I mainly danced on one leg (Nothing can hold me back when Prince comes on).
What I found out this morning is that morning exercise actually loosens the knee up a whole lot better than my normal daily routine of walking back and forth from the kitchen for more coffee. In fact, I doubt I even needed more coffee when I got home because I’m wide awake. There’s nothing quite like a brisk walk on the treadmill to get you going.
I’m not saying this is going to become a routine thing, and I definitely won’t say I’m happy about having to wake up and go work out on Friday morning too. I’m just saying that maybe mornings and I can agree to be friends.
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Blogebrities
Going to Tequila Con this past weekend was kind of like hanging out in Hollywood. There were blogebrities everywhere you looked. Some of them, you instantly recognized as in "OMG, that’s Secondhand KARL!" or "There’s Blogography and he looks just like he does on his blog!". Then there were those times when you knew you should know someone but you just couldn’t place the face or the blog. It was kind of like when I went to England in high school and the little guy from Das Efx and RedMan were staying in our hotel for the entire week, yet I didn’t figure out who they were until the day we were leaving, and only after our chaperones had explicitly warned us to stay away from those scary people.
Tequila Con, like the Cheers bar, was the place where everyone knew your name (You were wearing it like a billboard on a lanyard all night so it was fairly obvious). There was no catty business like in usual social situations (at least none that I’m aware of) and everyone was super nice and complimentary.
Karl told me he loved my shoes and won my heart. Others asked me about things I had written about months ago, or checked in on the status of the knee. There were people there that I was just getting to know, but many of these people knew me. It was definitely a weird feeling.
I often talk to my college friends about how cool they are, and how no matter how much time passes or what’s going on in our lives, when we get together we always have wine, I mean fun. Leaving Tequila Con on Saturday night was like leaving yet another very cool group of new friends who felt like old friends.
For years, I scolded my sister about meeting people online (In my defense, she only met losers online). So, when I told my family I was going to meet a bunch of bloggers, I could see their hesitation and a flash of concern. But meeting everyone that I met at Tequila Con showed me that there are some really incredible people out there, and a whole host of bloggers to fix my sister up with if things don’t work out with her current guy.
Up to the Saints
Although I spent a ridiculous amount of time at Tequila Con trying to convince Dustin to buy my house instead of searching on the west coast where things are overpriced, somehow I don’t think he was buying. At one point I’m fairly certain I even offered to shoot him the MLS listing for my house. I may have even thrown out the words: "two gas fireplaces" and "hardwood floors" in between drinks and tater tots. I met lots of cool people at Tequila Con, but sadly, I could not sell my home while there.
So, I did what every desperate home seller does these days. We loaded the entire BBM family into the van and headed to the Christian bookstore across town to buy a statue of Saint Joseph to bury him in our front yard (Don’t believe it works? Click and learn). The entire drive home, Big I kept telling us it wasn’t going to work until I read her the instructions:
1. Ask St. Joseph for help.
2. Believe that he will help.
3. Now place him on your property and stop stressing the hell out already.
(O.k., Step 3 is slightly embellished but you get the idea.) As we drove up our street, she agreed to believe and we started chanting, "I do believe in St. Joseph, I do! I do!" Peter Pan style. We said our prayers out on the sidewalk and Big I even offered to help bury him out there. Once the house sells, you’re supposed to dig him up and place him inside the new home in a place of honor.
If this works I will build that little guy a shrine, and I don’t even know how to build.
Somehow I’m wondering if threatening to bury your realtor upside down on his head wouldn’t have the same effect on getting your house sold? I’m just wondering.
Meeting Real Live Bloggers: Tequila Con 2008
Last night, Mr. BBM and I met some real live bloggers face to face. They did not disappoint. This was my very first Tequila Con and it did not disappoint either. I had plans to make a photo essay out of the whole night, but then I realized that we had over 40 pictures, and there was just no way I could upload them all here. So, if you’d like to see the photographic evidence of our very good time, you can go here. This is where everyone will be uploading their own pictures of Tequila Con. I’ve added a few below, just for fun.
I spent the entire night laughing and smiling almost non-stop. My sides and face hurt by the time it was all over. It really was that much fun. The planning crew, Dave, Jenny, Dustin, Vahid (please forgive me if I’m missing someone) were so welcoming and sweet. We got custom lanyards, pins to add some bling, and even a soundtrack that is just plain awesome (I thought I was the only person who liked S-S-S-S-Samantha Fox).
Just a couple highlights from the night:
-Sneaking into the DJ booth ninja style armed with song requests and $10 along with the help and support of Jenny and Dee Dee.
–Adam teaching me about the joys of being able to bring Karl’s posts to life even in a bowling alley.
-Hanging out with Hello Ha Ha Narf and Vahid.
-Meeting Karl which, well, words can’t even begin to describe.
-Watching Dustin break out the Tequila costume and then work the room like a pro.
-Kicking Dave’s butt, because he put in a special request.
-Meeting one of my favorite readers, Delmer and his friend with very cool shoes Donna!
-Meeting Lisa and her husband and Hilly.
-Being in the presence of Miss Britt doing just about anything, but especially dancing.
-Comparing PT notes with Rachel.
-Trying to make the case for Pete and Mike being serial killers. They’re so totally not.
-Saving Dan at Chucklehut for last, and even sharing a cab back to our respective hotels.
It was great to meet so many fantastic people. Looking back over the list of attendees today, I can’t believe all of the ones I didn’t get to meet last night. I guess there’s always next year!
Back on the Floor
I drove Big I to karate tonight and I couldn’t help but think that in just a few weeks, I could be training again. I was daydreaming about what it will feel like to tell everyone "I’m back!" I have not set foot on the training floor since my injury in October. It’s been a really long time.
As I entered the dojo tonight, my teacher commented about how well I was walking around. I told him that I’m getting there and hoping to return (slowly) in June. Somehow the conversation turned to Sanchin. I said I didn’t know it and he said he would teach me. I thought it would be from the sidelines.
I was having a conversation with another Mom in the dojo when Hanshi summoned me from the upstairs training floor. He told me take my shoes off and come out on the floor. I took my shoes off, threw my jacket and purse on the bench and walked out. It felt really strange being back on the floor, but even more so in jeans.
Hanshi explained Sanchin and talked about the meaning of the number "three" within our system and how it relates to pretty much everything in our style. And then we started. In a casual stance, I stood there and worked on Sanchin breathing. Then we added hand motions. When it was time to get into the Sanchin stance, I just kept my feet facing forward and didn’t worry about my stance. I spent about 40 minutes out on the floor walking through Sanchin with the rest of the class, careful not to pivot on my knee or do anything that would cause a problem.
I wanted to be completely immersed in learning Sanchin but I couldn’t help but think about my knee almost constantly. I tried to get into a good nai hanchi stance but it was really difficult to do. Like squats, I continue to put more weight on my right leg, not yet trusting my left knee to keep up with the right. I knew I was going to need some work on basics again but I had no idea how much.
I also tried to stand in cat stance with my weight on my left leg and that was nearly impossible and painful. My knee cap area just started to ache and I backed off. At one point while standing there, I started to think about how good it felt to be back out there again; but then I almost welled up with tears thinking about how difficult a journey it’s going to be to get back to where I used to be.
The reality that it is going to take me months just to get my body to do the basic things that it used to do without thinking is hitting me hard tonight. After knocking out all the things I couldn’t do at home, like carrying Lil C up and down the stairs and even something so simple as alternating steps when going up and down, I mistakenly believed I was almost there.
Going back to karate is going to pose an entirely different set of challenges. Tomorrow, when I go to PT, I’m going to talk to my physical therapist about the stances I’ll need to use and ask him to help me get there. I realized tonight that the mental aspect of coming back is going to be the hardest part, but the physical part isn’t going to be a cake walk either.
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