Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Bootyless-ish – Tuesday Tune, vol 112

Hey, guess what?  The Booooo tttt is off!  And thanks to Jenn, who cleverly coined me Bootyless-ish, today's Tuesday Tune is Bootyless-ish from Desitin's Child.

Being as I've spent a whole month on the couch, doing pretty much nothing, you can rest assured this Rabid has plenty of "jelly" to be rid of.  Indeed, "I don't think you're ready for this jelly!"

The Doc says things look really good and has let me loose for some cross training.  After two weeks of cross training, I shall return with a cross training report.  If all things go according to plan, I shall run a mile or two in a couple of weeks after seeing him again.

The Doc said something along the lines of:

I don't think you're ready, for this running.  
I don't think you're ready, for this running.
I don't think you're ready, for this running.
Though your foot is bootyless-ish all the time now.

Go and ride a bike now, ride a bike now.
Get on an elliptical, an elliptical.
Swim, and walk, but don't hike.
In two weeks your body'll be ready for this running now.

Yay!  It's so good to be off the couch!

Monday, May 14, 2012

The Pipe is All Broke! (In Iambic Pentameter)

Fye, fye! 'Tis water that bubbles above,
A murky brewing of earth, frizz and froth.
Created whence the sprinklers did tinkle,
And spews a swimming hole, for wasp and ant,
Which flail about or sink and alas drown.

But what, pray tell, is the cause of such mess?
What action emenates this doom and gloom?
Was it terrorist, or natural spoil?
Or the by-blow of a tree's extraction?
Oh wondering roots, this Rose o' Sharon,
Did thee castrate thy water's embrace burst?

"Shiz knuckle!" he says, "Fetch my bailing cup,"
"Must remove this foul and moist pit of goop."
Thy brows reveal anguish and gnash and gnarl,
For goop has blinded thy punctured agent.

Oh happy stream bed upon which we built,
To bury and rest all flow'ring blooms!
'Tis muddy now, a place without beauty,
A crime scene of sorts, to sleuth and detect.

With elbows all marshy and knees a soil,
The sun has gone thither and darkness looms.
Ye stands right straight up, with creaking and clank,
From toil and proof, declares with conviction,
"The pipe is all broke! The pipe is all broke!"


Thursday, May 10, 2012

Midlife Crisis, Version 2.0

In 40 days, I'll be 40.

Just 40 days ago, I was welcoming this 40-year milestone, for 40 days ago I was in (close to) the best shape of my life.  Just 40 days ago, I was welcoming this milestone.  So I'm turning 40... no big deal!

Due to my current injury, however, I've watched a best-shape-of-my-life-atrophy turn this 40 year birthday into a very big deal.

So big is my new deal with turning 40 that I've pulled out the midlife crisis.  Many years ago I planned my midlife.  True story.  I can be a planner.  After becoming the first-hand witness to many midlifes, I decided it was time to prepare a midlife plan of my own – you know, so as not to do anything stupid.

I remember the makings of this plan clearly.  And I remember weighing all of the possible options.  Should I buy a new car?  Nah.  Cars are the opposite of progress, and you, Rabid, are not a sink-a-ton-of-money-into-something-that-doesn't-progress kind of gal.  Have an affair?  Eee gads no, too messy.  Change careers?  Prolly not, for the anticipated career was that of "mom," and ditching that career would not be considered a meager midlife. Run a marathon?  Done that.  Learn to paint?  Nope, can't sit still for that.  Go to India for some eat, pray, 'n love?  Done that too.

After scrupulously mulling over the available options, I decided on the midlife plan called "Tennis," or Version 1.0, whereby I'd learn to play tennis.  This midlife plan also served as a warning of sorts, for all would know that the midlife had landed whence I bought a racket.

At the time, I hadn't considered an injury-induced midlife (as if!) or even an injury that would put me in a stinky boot.  Naturally, Midlife version 1.0, "Tennis," seemed the obvious choice.  Obvious, that is, until I found myself turning 40 and injured.  I'm in the eye of a perfect midlife storm and cannot draw upon the midlife plan.


So what did I do?  To start this mid-life crisis?  Buy a car?  Nah, still the opposite of progress.  Have an affair?  Hell no.  Change careers?  Nope, still a mom.  Run a marathon?  Snooze.  Everyone's doing that.  What shall be my Midlife, Version 2.0?

I'll tell you what Midlife 2.0 shall be.  Piano Lessons.  Started yesterday.

No one expects the Midlife Piano Lessons!  Take that!  Midlife!  You vacuous, toffy-nosed, malodorous pervert! Stab you with the square pillows!  I curtailed my Walpoling activities, sallied forth, and infiltrated your place of purveyance to negotiate the vending of some cheesy comestibles!

I also plan to watch every last episode of the Flying Circus.

(Which means it's time to say... "And now for something completely different.")

Tuesday, May 01, 2012

We Are Family – Tuesday Tune, vol 111

I have these two siblings.  Their names are Opree and Devo.  They are great fun.  The thing I like most about my siblings, however, is that we three stand firm in our love o' music.  Friday night we gathered after a soccer game to discuss Opree's latest opera auditions and Jack White's new album Blunderbuss.  Then today, the Sister – a world renown opera superstar – sent me the soundtrack to 50 First Dates.  A few weeks ago she sent me Erasure's new album, and then a few weeks before that, she sent me Dvořák's Stabat Mater. We send each other music.  And we hearken unto each other often that "there's no such thing as bad music."

We are family and we love music that's why today's Tuesday Tune is We Are Family – Sister Sledge.  (Sorry Devo, I couldn't find a song that said, "I got my sister and brother with me" so today you get to be part of "I got all my sisters with me.")

Here's to family.