Year long projects, unite!
Tag: postaday2011
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sick day
I was feeling unwell yesterday and spent a few hours in bed (I’m on the road to recovery, thanks for asking). For the ultimate blast of nostalgic comfort, I found old clips of game shows from the 1970s, the very ones I used to watch when I was home sick as a youngster. Watching these clips was a fun experience, though I’m dismayed at how many people on these shows are dead. Just like my girlhood. Yaaay. Maybe I need a little more flat ginger ale and Saltines with butter.
Showcase Showdown from 1972, The Price is Right. The car, the graphics, the electronics, the packaging, the outfits! The ultimate year in the ultimate decade.
The New Treasure Hunt. Wow, I had forgotten how pranky/cruel this show was. And surreal! Did I just see insects mating??
Gene Rodenberry (Star Trek) on To Tell the Truth. I loved Peggy Cass, she reminded me of my cousin. I thought Kitty Carlisle was fabulous — now, she reminded me of my mom. (Host Garry Moore — didn’t he introduce his live TV show in the 50s with his, um, business hanging out by accident? I can’t find the evidence on the internet but I think I’m right about this.)
And, of course, the unforgettable Guy Smiley. I used to love to watch his hair get crazier and crazier as the segment would go on.
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the last time i fell out of bed
The time before I fell out of bed because of double leg cramp action last fall was when I was about 8. The only thing I know is that I woke up from a perfectly peaceful slumber — on my white shag area rug. I guess when you weigh about 50 pounds you can hit the ground and stay asleep.
Man, I loved my bedroom in Phoenix. My mom had redone it that year in an explosion of pink daisy pop art madness. Two twin beds, a Toot-a-Loop on the night stand, Wacky Package stickers stuck on the closet door. Perfection.
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maybe i just love saying “electrolyte”. electrolyte!
Nocturnal leg cramps. Horrible. If you’ve not waken up to your calf imploding into a black hole of cramping — well, it’s a treat. Think of me and my glibness when you wake the neighbors with your shrieking.
It’s been happening a lot — one particular incident was last fall when I woke up to both my calves freaking the fuck out. Usually, getting out of bed into a standing position (so that one’s foot stretches everything out) is the thing to do, but when both one’s calves are doing that thing, one just falls down. Dismaying to break a 35+-year streak of not falling out of bed.
I’ve also experienced cramping while working out, which so instantaneously hobbles me it might be comical if it weren’t so ow-ow-OW-OW-KILLMENOW-OW.
This ridiculousness started up about the same time I moved to my new abode in the summer. This made no sense until I realized that I started my Regime of Sensible Living (boring food, lots of sweating) at the same time. I still didn’t care enough to do any research until tonight, when I was in yoga, nice, sweet yoga, and my entire body was cramping up and down and all around. Feet, legs, side, arms, fingers, c’mon!
To the internet for some answers, stat! I had heard that low potassium was often the culprit, but I found that the biggie is the double whammy of low sodium and dehydration.
I should know this. While having to take tennis lessons in Phoenix in the summer, we all carried around water and salt pills. In Anza-Borrego last spring (oh that fateful trip,) I drank Gatorade in the desert and forced my friend D to, too. But somehow I was relating the whole electrolyte-depletion thing to high heat, not to exercising/sweating (and a diet that is low in sodium and sugar). So now I know.
What I don’t know is what exactly is an electrolyte. I get sleepy when I even look at the Wikipedia page. I just knows you have to keep ’em balanced, dammit!
Okay. So. Sports drinks are out, too much sugar. I Googled “make your own sports drinks” and recipes abound! But so many recipes and conflicting advice and measurements in ML and “agave nectar”.. and.. yawn. Way too much work for Bachelorette Becky, the laziest lady on the planet!
So, finally, I found that good ol’ Emergen-C (“little packets of KAPOW!”) makes their own Electro-Mix sports water powder. No sugar, no calories. I thought one had to have sugar in order to balance one’s electrolytes, but (LIKE YOU) I’m getting tired of thinking about this so I’m just going to trust Emergen-C on this.
I’ll let you know how it goes, I’m sure you effin’ care.
“Electro-Mix!” I feel I should be drinking it while wearing a white afro, sequined jumpsuit and ironic glasses. [NOT like this]
Update: here’s the followup blog post
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christmas leftovers
Leftover 1
Perfectly descriptive quote from Morgan at Brick House:
Anyone else feel spent? I sort of feel like I just got out of holiday jail and haven’t adjusted to living on the “outside” yet.
Leftover 2
A recent show called “O Come all Ye Failures with Fabio” on WFMU, the best radio station in the world, featured an interview with Alex Hacke from Einstürzende Neubauten, a famous German post-industrial noise band. Like many creative things in this world, I would not touch EN with a 10-foot-pole, but I’m glad they exist.
It was a great interview, actually — Hacke and his partner Danielle DePicciotto had a lot to say and some great music to play. At one point, Hacke goes quiet. DJ Fabio says “Alex! What the hell are you doing?” Alex, had, in fact, been untwirling the tangled cord of a pair of headphones.
I could relate. If it’s cordlike and twirlly, I am your untwirling girl. I mourn the end of telephones with cords.
After he had completed his task, Hacke announced
Look at it .. it was all knitted up before.. It’s all nice and spirally again!
Pretty cute from man in a band called Collapsing New Buildings.
Leftover 3
Pictures, including lots of snowy ones, from my holiday trip to Boston and New York
Leftover 4
I have been shockingly whiny about the dearth of gifts given to me this year. What a jerk I am. I need to revisit and reinforce my policy of giving gifts with a pure heart, with no expectations in return. I was very needy and “poor me” throughout December; my feelings were partly justified, but there is no justification for this gift-whine thing. Besides, I did get some great gifts — including a gold bracelet! — so I’m feeling remorseful about my selfish, L. Van Pelt-y attitude.
Gads, I’m glad the holidays are over. Scrub me down and start me over.
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little by little, stretching, stretching
This man is adorable and the candy looks magical. This video makes me want to travel abroad more than I’ve wanted to in years.
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now if i can only work on my road rage
A couple things happened recently that make me realize how far I’ve come since I was that incredibly sensitive, painfully self-conscious Younger Me.
- My Elderly Relative completely lost his temper; his rage boiled up out of nowhere and he snapped pretty viciously at me. And it affected me, well, not at all. It was a surprise, more than anything — he is the nicest, most even-tempered human on the planet, usually. But his dementia, mounting frustration at himself, and annoyance at my naggyness just boiled over. Who can blame him? I’d lose my shit, too. Since I’m aware of the mitigating circumstances of the outburst, I didn’t let it affect me. But it’s still noteworthy that it didn’t — I used to crumble apart at the slightest hint of a raised voice (thanks, pop!)
- A woman came up to me after a workout class and informed me, discreetly, that my leggings weren’t, um, as opaque as I thought — the back row could see every detail of my backside. And the embarrassment (em-bare-ass-ment) factor was about a 1 for me. Eh, what can you do? We’re all anonymous, toiling women in our crappy baggy tee shirts and sneakers. And I’m grateful she told me — now I know! The Younger Me would have burned with shame and quite possibly quit that gym out of the horror of it all.
I wish I were on more of an even keel in general (and I’d love to see the end of Weepy Frustration), but it’s nice to get occasional indicators that I act like a goddamn grownup sometimes.
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my favorite news article ever
From the San Francisco Chronicle
Monday, May 26, 2008Teen fashion gets Rube Goldberg-like results
by Leah GarchikSpy L.A. reports on the results of teen fashions during allergy season:
In an East Bay public library on Tuesday, a young man about 17 years old and 6 feet 5, wearing baggy jeans and a grill on his teeth, strolled in with a bunch of pals. He suddenly produced a sneeze so huge that his jeans fell down and his grill flew out of his mouth, landing on the floor. “While he struggled to pull up his pants and put the grill back in his mouth, the crowd in the library struggled not to laugh,” says L.A.
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locked and loaded
The other night, while walking down the street with friends:
Becky: I’m wearing a new bra.
Talia: So am I!
Random eavesdropping dude on the street: Me too! Underwire!Oh, underwear. One of the best things about visiting New York is staying with Tamar and Rich, not just because they are fab hosts and dear friends, but that they live in Jackson Heights, Queens. And in Jackson Heights is one of the best stores ever: Fever.
It is a small storefront on 82nd Street, and is not to be confused with Elegante, Half Fashion, or Leather Land USA — fine establishments also on 82nd.
Fever sells undergarments, accessories and pajamas. Fever is packed solid with the merch. Fever is the deal of the century. To wit, on this last trip I bought
- Two bras
- Six pairs underwears
- One pair legwarmers
- Two pairs tights
- Two pairs fancy lace hosiery.
The total? Thirty two dollars. That’s enough, right there, to make me a lifelong fan. But the ambiance is so great, I’d pay twice. Often there are so many people crammed into the already-crammed store, it’s impossible to move. Spanish is the only language spoken — or shouted when need be. One of the employees is a surly ladyman that just wants you to get the fuck out of the way when s/he is stocking the pushups.
Oh my god, I love Fever.
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i almost hesitate to announce this.
You may have noticed how posty I am lately. Well, I’m going to try to post every day. This year.
My friend Paul has been wonderfully encouraging about my writing, and when he announced he would take the 2011 WordPress Daily Post Challenge, I wanted to support him. At first I thought of commenting daily or liking all his posts through Google Reader or something. But then I thought, OH WHY NOT, fresh new year, wide-eyed optimism, all that jazz. I jumped in.
I am a confirmed WordPress fan, and am intrigued on what I’m going to learn in the course of their challenge.
Okay, now, be supportive! There’s going to be a time, probably around July, when I’ll need you to put the ice pack on my head and make me mojitos so I can keep going.
Here’s what DailyPost offers up as a sample announcement post:
I know it won’t be easy, but it might be fun, inspiring, awesome and wonderful. Therefore I’m promising to make use of The DailyPost, and the community of other bloggers with similiar goals, to help me along the way, including asking for help when I need it and encouraging others when I can.
If you already read my blog, I hope you’ll encourage me with comments and likes, and good will along the way.
You see that, dear reader? WordPress itself is telling you to comment on my blog!