cindy's world

I’m at my parents’ house right now. I walked up to my mom in the kitchen and said, “Oh, and look at what the hula hoop did to me last week!” and pulled down the waistline of my shorts. She looked over her shoulder from the sink. The bruise is now much better and looks faded, so I had to explain that all the yellow and brown parts she sees now were actually black and huge a few days ago, and that it had hurt really bad. There was a bit of silence, and then she said, “That just happens because you’re not used to it yet. My waist was sore when I first started, too. If you do it more it won’t hurt anymore.”

!!!
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First off, I’d like to apologize for your stumbling on such a grotesque photo. I’m sorry. But I had to post this. Sorry, also, for the stupid elastic band line around my waist, and the underwear line on my lower hip.

Those of you who shop at Asian merchandise stores may be aware of metal hula hoops covered with a light layer of colorful foam — hoops that are so large and so heavy that the claim is loss of inches from your waist as you revolve it around your body. My mother fell victim to such a lame purchase.

So you already know I visited my parents over the weekend. While there, I saw the bright colors peeking out from behind the loveseat in the living room and could not resist hula-ing. My mother showed up after a few minutes of my “ow, ow, ow”ing spinning this heavy hoop around my waist. “That’s too easy for you,” she noted, “You should turn around in a circle or stand on one foot or jump.” I did all three. With the hoop still revolving painfully around me, I made the poor decision to listen to the last suggestion made by my mom to move the hoop up and down on my body. I let it drop to my hips and instead of rolling easily, it instead skipped over the part of my lower abdomen where there’s a slight concave before the protrusion of my hip bone, and it banged straight into my hip bone, twice. “OW!” I said and stopped the hula hoop. My hip hurt the rest of the evening. This morning, I noted it was still tender to the touch, and could see a slight pink discoloration. At the gym at lunchtime, the bruise had become visibly light purplish in some areas. Just now, I looked again and here’s what it’s become in a period of 24 hours:

The blood had to seep through a layer of rippling lower abdominal muscles (HAHAHA) and an even thicker layer of fat to show up underneath the skin as this blotch. That’s a lot of blood. As I was complaining about feeling like my left ovary is falling out, my bailiff said that people are gonna think Mr. W beat me. I told him, “Who’d beat someone on their freakin’ HIP BONE?” Mr. W, when I told him about my bailiff’s comment this evening, said, “Who’d believe your lame story about getting that bruise from a HULA HOOP? Of course they’re gonna think I beat you.”

Maybe we should re-evaluate all those presumed victims of domestic violence and their presumed phony stories of getting a black eye from running into the wall, or falling down stairs, or from hitting their face against a door knob.

Call it a combination of heat (Southern California has been in the mid-90s to low 100s F for the past few weeks now) and hormones, but I have been unable to peel myself off the couch for many things lately. Twice this week, I’d fallen asleep with the big screen on all night. Thank goodness my body wakes me up around 6:30a. Listening to TV in my sleep makes the characters in my dreams speak of infomercial topics.

Today, I don’t feel too bad about my recent laziness, since I filled the non-jujitsu time last nite with vacuuming the house (still loving the new Hoover) and changing the litter box. The run I’d planned to have in lieu of jujitsu last nite but didn’t, was done today at lunchtime. I did the run at the gym on a treadmill on a hill program and I took a shower afterwards, but it was so hot that driving the mile back to work was more miserable than the 3-mile run. I was actually nauseated when I got back to the courtroom. I have got to up my mileage, and fast, to prepare for the half-marathon in September. Too bad my lunch hour isn’t longer so I can fit in more miles. I am becoming increasingly concerned about the heat and sun on the morning of the run, tho.

Tonight: belly dancing!

I finally went to jujitsu again! It was a beginner’s class so there was a lot of standing around as people learned how to set up a hip throw, but in the warmups and ab exercises, I got worked. It was also a good 85 degrees Fahrenheit in the room. Mr. W said that people there would be upset that I didn’t show up for the last 3 months and they’d disown me for the Hawaii trip, and I told him, “Nah. They’ll welcome me with open arms.” And that’s what happened with the returning students. It was also Vanessa’s first day back, and Josh was there, so it was a lot of fun.

After class, those of us who’ve been around the class for awhile and have become friends went out to Chomp! sushi for my bday. Yes, again. It was a really good time, lots of laughing and goofing off. I’d post the details of the night, but I don’t think it’d be good for my karma.

*** LATER ***
Navy Girl Vanessa’s email to me:
“I don’t think it’s bad karma to blog about [Creepy Guy]. If you knew he was going to read it and you wanted to hurt his feelings then that would definitely qualify for bad karma, but you are just journaling your feelings, so need need for karma to come back.”

I already told her that I’m gonna blame it on her, so here we go…
There’s this creepy guy in our jujitsu class whom I’ve mentioned on a few earlier blog entries. The first time he met me he thought it’d be good to walk around with his shirt off and try to start up a conversation with me. Subsequent to that, Vanessa had an experience where she was hugging people hello or goodbye and he planted himself there so without much thought, she included him on the hugs. After that, for a long time, he tried to hug her every time he saw her. Someone else told us that he “accidentally” grabbed another female student’s breast during practice. When I was chatting with a student about taking Mr. W to a future performance of Cirque du Soleil’s “Quidam” and the student was telling me his recommendation of “Quidam,” Creepy Guy kept interrupting the conversation and following me around asking me about when I was going and saying how he wants to go, too. For days.
So anyway, last nite, Creepy Guy was on his way out the door after class but overheard someone mentioning going out for my bday. He came back and announced he was hungry, and asked everyone where we’re going. Damn. We all acted indecisive, but he wouldn’t leave. So we had to decide on the plans with him having planted himself under our noses. Vanessa had to go run some errands so she bailed out. Josh, however, totally took one for the team.
Chomp! seated us at a semi-circular booth and Creepy Guy got in first. I was like, “Frick, that means he’s gonna be in the middle.” No one moved to sit after that, cuz either way you slide in, you’re gonna be next to Creepy Guy. But then Josh got in, I clambered in behind him, and then one of the blackbelts, Ramon, got in the other side. Whew. Josh complained afterwards that Creepy Guy’s breath stunk and he wouldn’t shut up. HAHA! Creepy Guy’s not a bad person, but…
Oh yeah, and afterwards as we were about to separate outside, Ramon got up and hugged me again. I saw Ramon moving toward me and look like he was gonna hug me, and my immediate panicked thought was, “Now there’s gonna be a hug chain and Creepy Guy’s gonna hug me, too! ACK!” And that is just how it happened. Ramon hugged me, wished me happy bday and apologized again for forgetting, Rebecca then hugged me, and then Creepy Guy stepped up, and then another blackbelt Lee, and Josh and I walked off since we parked next to each other. Of course the first thing he did was bust up laughing at me. As we walked off, Creepy Guy said pointedly, “I guess I’ll walk home.” We just kept walking, and apparently the 2nd instructor Lee offered Creepy the ride. Josh said, “THANKS, LEE!” I’m sure Creepy didn’t know what the thanks was for, but Lee did and grimaced. Vanessa said that that’s how Creepy tagged along for Ramon’s birthday celebration, too; saying the same hinting thing and suggesting that someone give him a ride. Gerardo took the hit that day, not wanting any of us girls to give him a ride home.

Now I must cleanse my karma.

*** STILL LATER ***
I just added a photo onto my Disneyland post.

My horoscope today says:
As the Moon leaves Scorpio this morning your optimism returns, helping you to overcome your serious emotions. Normally you might choose to keep your feelings to yourself as you process them, but now it is imperative for you to share your experiences with those close to you. If you can let others know what you need, you may be pleasantly surprised with the response.

Hmm. Lemme see…what do I need, what do I neeeeeed? I need some love, I think. Those of you whom I’ll see on Saturday, be prepared to spread the love! Unless I’m in an antisocial mood by then. In that case, just say hey and give me my space.

Actually, I do physically feel better. I was having problems for weeks that peaked last nite and I decided to do a meditation that’s always worked in the past for repairing my bodily blues. Wouldn’t ya know it, it worked.

We’re going to work half an hour into lunch today, but with that sacrifice, we’re going to have the afternoon free. My judge has a funeral to attend in the afternoon. I’ll probably use the time to catch an early movie after work, i.e. Pirates of the Caribbean II: Dead Man’s Chest, before going on the revamped ride tomorrow at Disneyland so I could understand the changes.

I am so lethargic. How do I wake up? Aside from taking drugs, I mean. I got enough sleep last nite, went to bed about 10:30p, and but I so did not want to get out of bed. Didn’t drag my butt out until almost 7a. And at lunch my legs were too heavy to work out at the gym, so I went and got a salad, after the consumption of which I took a 2o minute nap. Now I want to sleep again. I wonder what it is. Maybe it’s just hormonal. Maybe I’m just bored, listening to this petty theft trial while doing overcomplicated divorce cases at my desk.

That title up there was for all the confused blog readers. =D I didn’t realize I was vague about my birthdate.

I picked up Mr. W and his friend at the airport last nite. They really didn’t catch any fish. “YOU explain it to my dad,” I told him.

It was a great day today. A couple minutes past midnight this morning, Navy Girl Vanessa called and left a voice mail to say happy birthday, and then early this morning, at like 7am, my childhood friend Sandy called and sang Happy Birthday to me. Mr. W rolled over in bed and said, “Someone beat me to singing happy birthday to you?” After I hung up with Sandy, Mr. W sang happy birthday in my ear while hugging me in bed. It was soooo cute. And then my friend Erin called, sending me birthday wishes. And then Vicky called and we chatted, but she didn’t realize it was my birthday, altho she did later and called back and left a voice mail apologizing for being a crappy friend. Haha, I didn’t even realize it until then that she didn’t say happy birthday. Hee hee, I just got a call from Edgar just now wishing me a happy 30th and remarking how old I am. He’ll get his…in October. And I got the birthday voice mails from Diana and my mom. All day long my phone was ringing and it’s about to die on low battery right now. I’m unexpectedly happy for someone who just turned 30 and has become *gasp* a GROWNUP.

Lemme backtrack some. Yesterday evening was my first bellydancing class. Man, there are a lot of fat women in that class. I’m glad they’ve taken the initiative to get some exercise in a fun way. I realized that since I can already do dancing that isolates my upper body and my hips, bellydancing was not that hard for me on the first day when we went thru 7 or 8 basic moves/steps. The only thing that was hard for me was the shimmying, because as a fat-conscious chick, I’ve spent most of my time trying NOT to make my fat shimmy. I did work up a little sweat in the end when we were doing moves nonstop. It’s gonna be fun.

Before bellydancing, I got online to check Mr. W’s flight status, since I had to go pick them up right after class. As I was doing that, I got an email notification that Jordan had just written me. A line in her email said something about hoping a package she sent gets to me on time. Package? I stood up and walked out the front door to check the gate (my ingress and egress are usually done through my garage, so I don’t go by the front door), and there was a big white box sitting just inside my gate. Inside was an awesome care package of a comedian DVD she’d told us about when we first met on the cruise, a relaxation CD, a Jimmy Buffett CD (she was making fun of me on her blog for not knowing who Jimmy Buffett is), a book of love coupons (no, not the raunchy sex shop kind, the nice Hallmark kind), body scrub, and body butter. A bunch of confetti metallic stars fell out of the box also; I recognized them from the handfuls of them she put in my birthday card, which she mailed separately and I received the day before the package. I listened to Jimmy Buffett all the way to the airport picking up Mr. W and friend, and then I had to turn it off cuz it turns out Mr. W hates Jimmy Buffett. Haha.

So today, Mr. W and I got up early and headed out to my birthday treat. He’s so sweet, we first stopped by McDonald’s and he picked up 2 Fruit n’ Yogurt Parfaits, and then by Starbucks where he got me a chai tea with soy (I didn’t even tell him my order, I was on the car on the phone with Vicky, he did really good). And then at Glen Ivy, we got to hang out all day in the pools, bake in the red mineral clay, and watch turtles eat leaves and swim with koi fish. After our treatments (where my therapist gypped me 10 minutes on a supposedly 80-minute treatment), we changed and went to the local Tom’s Farms, bought a ton of fresh organic fruit, and came home and he just made papaya/watermelon/apple/carrot/rhubarb smoothies. Yum!

After I hung up with Vicky earlier today on our drive to Glen Ivy, I remarked to Mr. W how nice it is that all my girls had called (I designated the caller group “my girls” with a Beyonce song ringtone, and that was all we heard all morning), and they/we are all happy in our love lives finally. Everyone’s getting somewhere or are at a really good place. Man, we’ve all had our tough times in romance, walked through hell and back. Now, everyone’s glowing all over the place. Yay for all of us! I don’t even mind turning 30 cuz I’m having such a good time. I mean, it helps that everyone around me are at least 10 years older than me at work, but I’ve also been feeling 30 for almost 2 weeks. People would ask how old I am and I’d say 30, or I’d refer to myself as a 30-year-old, and then I’d kick myself for prematurely aging myself. But generally, I think it’s okay being 30 if you’re happy with your life, content with where you are, and are surrounded by good friends.

Oh. And people tell me I don’t look 30, either. That helps. Haha!

I just enrolled in belly dancing over the phone! Yay! The course description reads:

Feel alive and happy. Have fun body toning in a feminine way! Bless the goddess within. Belly dancing helps to develop grace, rhythm, poise and fitness. Choreography, veil work, and hip patterns are all part of the class. Wear comfortable clothing to class.

“Veil work.” How interesting! I can’t wait! First class is next Wednesday. It’s not one of my goals to take on a dancing class before I’m 30, but maybe I’ll use that to replace surfing. I’d been itching for the past several months to do some kind of performance arts.

My gym trainee is on vacation from work all this week. I’ve seized upon the opportunity to work out really, really hard at lunch, supersetting as many things as possible and not stopping in between sets. I’m upset that I can’t lose 5 lbs to get back int0 the 120s again, and in chatting with Vanessa’s boyfriend over the weekend, he suggested that the intensity of my workouts must’ve changed. He’s totally right. I started training my coworker in September, and that was when the weight gain started. I went from being able to fit in 7 exercises (3 sets each) at lunch to 3-4 exercises, because I have to watch her form and work in with her. She’s shown great results; I got mushy. Yesterday I did 6 exercises and today I did 5, amping up the intensity by not taking breaks and doing heavier weights. But I still haven’t returned to jujitsu. Now I’m scared to. I’ll likely get my clock cleaned all over the mat.

Well, on the brighter side of things exercise class-wise, I’m pretty sure yoga ended altho we didn’t attend the last 2 or 3 classes (Mr. W realized that the way the crazy yoga lady forced the poses was killing his back, on top of making me nauseated), and bellydancing is going to begin the day before my birthday on the 28th. I just need to remember to enroll. Haha. Vanessa already mailed in her application and fee. I think taking a whole new exercise class each year right before my birthday is a good thing. Last year it was jujitsu.

I decided this afternoon that what I needed was a massage. Without much hope, I called Glen Ivy Day Spa and asked if they had any open appointments left for today. The last time I tried to do an impromptu appointment with them on a weeknight, all they had open was a 20 minute slot, which is the equivalent to giving a starving person a kernal of corn, or to a badly PMSing woman a chocolate chip. Mr. W offered his personal massage service if I can’t book an appointment, but then the clouds parted and a magical sunlit hand reached through the opening to hand me an 80-minute slot at 5pm, then reached over and plucked Mr. W up from where the back of his shirt was hanging from a hook, gently setting him down in front of his computer where I see he’s active, but he is ignoring my IMs. Back to my story. The receptionist’s voice asked me over the phone whether it’s okay that only a male massage therapist is available at that time. Of course it’s okay! I would’ve taken a penguin if he were certified. And then it was booked. I did a quick calculation. $145 massage, a 20% tip would be $29. Mr. W, who was on the phone with me at the time, said that 20% is overtipping. I asked my substitute court reporter (my regular one is surfing in Costa Rica) and substitute bailiff (my regular one is off somewhere paying his new property taxes), who frequent massage places, how much they tip. They both said 15%. I thought back to all the times I’ve tipped at least 20%. Mr. W pointed out that it’s not like these masseuses remember me, since I don’t go that regularly to the same places and I don’t go back to the same person. So I don’t benefit from overtipping.

Well, it turned out a good thing I overtipped last time in April with Diana, cuz I got the same guy. I recognized him first; he said apologetically that he sees a lot of people. It wasn’t until I was naked that he recognized me. “You’re the one who told me you were like 30% bodyfat, right?” “Yeah, that’s me.” He laughed, and said he still doesn’t believe that measurement is accurate. I said 2 separate tests told me that. He said then both tests are unreliable. “Hey, how’s that soda thing going?” I asked him. He said, “Great! I still haven’t drank any soda! I don’t even drink diet anymore.” “Oh, since I told you about the chemicals thing?” “Yeah!” That’s me, getting people to quit fast food and sodas everywhere I go.

Got my 80 minute massage, for the first time got a stomach massage. I’d told my therapist my court reporter today said, “I hate it when they massage my stomach.” I didn’t know before then that people got stomach massages. I’d been told that you’re not supposed to massage the stomach area because if you do it wrong, people could have their intestines messed up and get constipated. My therapist confirmed that massaging in the wrong direction can indeed cause blockage, and asked if I wanted to try it. I decided to trust him. It was weird, I felt like my face would swell every time he pushed down. He said it was all the fluid moving around from the massage, and to drink a lot of water over the next couple of days to flush out the toxins released from the rubbing. He said they don’t automatically do stomachs anymore unless someone requests it, because most people don’t like it. Others like it because it clears up their constipation and they go to the bathroom right after the massage. You learn something new every day.