My post for today is simple, just like this flow chart.
Tag Archives: humor
Tangled Up in New Headphones
“Oh what a tangled web we weave …” Sir Walter Scott
“Tangled headphones are my pet peeve …” Loristory
About a week ago, I was about to head out to the gym. As I mentioned in a previous post (“Gonna Be Some Changes“), listening to music at the gym is my antidote for boredom and exhaustion while trying to maintain an upright position on the treadmill. So imagine my panic when I couldn’t find my headphones!
I dug through my purse, my pockets, and my gym bag, to no avail. Where could they be? They had come with my new iPhone and I really, really liked them because the sound quality was good and they stayed put in my ears. (Did I just type Putin? No! Put in!) Let me rephrase that. My headphones stayed in place in my ears. Some of the cheaper headphones (like the ones you buy for $1 on airplanes) are constantly falling out. If you try wearing them on the plane then you risk the chance of having to elbow your seat-mate every few minutes while searching for errant earbuds. They most definitely would not stay in your ears while exercising at the gym.
My headphones were what motivated me to even go to the gym. Without them, I might as well just cancel my membership. But then I remembered that there was a Best Buy on the way to the gym. I drove there and found a new pair of iPhone headphones, identical to the ones I had lost. They cost $30. I told myself that $30 was a small price to pay for good health and reluctantly handed the clerk my credit card.
I’ve been to the gym a few times since then and I used my new headphones each time, storing them in a special pocket of my purse so I would not lose them.
Last night I decided to clean out my purse. What did I find? Kleenex. Old receipts. Pens. Pencils. Lipstick. Gym padlock. Tangled web of wires. Wait … what?
Yes, folks, what you see above is not one, not two, but three sets of headphones. (Did I mention that I also have headphones for my iPod that I carry in my purse in case I want to watch TV at the gym? They don’t fit in my new iPhone because … Apple.)
Somehow, my new iPhone headphones found my old iPhone headphones (and my iPod headphones) deep in the dark recesses of my purse pocket, and all three sets bonded. Literally. It took me about 5 minutes to untangle them. And even though I knew they were probably meant to live together forever in harmony, I took things into my own hands and came up with this ingenious plan:
We’ll see how long that lasts.
Shweta Mehrishi Sharma‘s NanoPoblano post yesterday about lost keys inspired me to tell my own version of “Lost.” Do you have a “lost” story of your own? I’d love to hear it!
Gonna Be Some Changes
I’ve recently started going to the gym, but I don’t like it. It’s not any one particular thing — it’s just the whole package. The echoes, the grunts, the smells. Not knowing how the machines work. The pain. And don’t forget the scales, which might not be the most accurate machines ever invented. (I don’t know how I managed it, but recently I weighed .6 pounds more immediately after a workout than I did right before it.)
I used to have some pretty reasonable excuses for not going to the gym: “It’s too expensive.” “I don’t have time.” “It’s too far to drive.” But I can’t use those excuses now that I’ve retired, qualified for a Silver Sneakers (free membership) card, and discovered a Planet Fitness five minutes from my house. And then I read this headline today:
“Mayo Clinic discovers high-intensity aerobic training can reverse aging processes in adults.”
After reading that good news, I thought I might try to hate going to the gym a little less.
According to the study, which was conducted by the Mayo Clinic in 2017 and reported online here, the best method for reversing the aging process may be through interval training. (Disclaimer: I’m not a medical professional and I don’t know how scientifically rigorous the study was. But those two words, “reverse aging,” do have a certain appeal.)
“Interval training” is defined as about three to four minutes of hard exertion — for example, on a stationary bike — and then a rest period. Rinse and repeat. Yay! If they say “three to four minutes,” maybe that really means I can get away with “two to three minutes” as a newbie. And that rest period is appealing, too, since I greatly prefer to do awful things like boring gym exercises in small chunks, with plenty of time for heavy breathing and checking Instagram between the intervals. And I like that word “stationary,” too. I can do stationary quite well.
I have to admit that Planet Fitness is one of the least objectionable gyms I’ve been to. Their color scheme is deep purple, and they keep the lights turned down really low. That’s why I decided to keep going there, actually. It’s so dark that your cellulite looks just like interesting shadows. They even have a huge slogan emblazoned on the wall: “No Judgement.” (I always thought that “judgement” was spelled “judgment.” So whenever I see their sign, I feel judgmental about their spelling. But maybe it’s a British spelling. Does anyone out there know? Because I want to feel less judgmental while I’m in there. “Judge not, lest ye be judged” has special meaning when you’re on public display in your gym shorts.)
I went to the gym yesterday and was hard at work on the treadmill. (This was before I knew about the much easier and relaxing — I hope — interval training method.) I was listening to music through my headphones, a method that I’ve found works well to distract me from the burning in my lungs and the sweat dripping from my brow. About ten minutes into my workout, a song came on that got my adrenaline pumping, and my feet seemed to take on a life of their own. It was the aptly titled “Gonna Be Some Changes Made” by Bruce Hornsby. The tempo was perfect for my treadmill speed (about 2.5 miles per hour) and the music was energizing. It could be the lyrics that motivated me. (It’s hard to think about going home and lying on the couch with a bag of potato chips when you’re listening to him sing about all those changes he’s going to make.)
I think maybe I should download some other songs with the word “change” in the title, and bring them with me to the gym. For example:
Changes (David Bowie)
A Change Would Do You Good (Sheryl Crowe)
Waiting for the World to Change (John Mayer)
A Change is Gonna Come (Sam Cooke)
Change My Way of Living (Allman Brothers)
Change the World (Eric Clapton)
Psychologist Carl Rogers had this to say about change:
“The curious paradox is that when I accept myself just as I am, then I can change.”
OK, that does it. Starting today, I’m going to accept the fact that I dislike the gym. And then there are going to be some changes made … starting tomorrow.
Daylight Saving Time
Last Thursday night, I got only five hours of sleep. I blame Nano Poblano. All of those impassioned opinions, perfect word choices, and gutsy poems – you peppers really know how to inform, inspire, and interrupt a good night’s slumber. I was awake until 3 a.m. reading. Your titles were compelling and your photos so interesting. Even your badges were calling my name. I think I dreamt about peppers that night (er … morning).
Later that day (at 8 a.m.), I pulled myself out of bed because I had company coming over at 9. I rubbed my tired eyes, stumbled to the coffee machine, and pressed “brew” without putting water in first. After a couple of tries, I finally got everything (water, coffee, cup) arranged and ready. After my success making and drinking my first cup of java, I decided I was capable of vacuuming the living room rug.
All was going fine until I decided to try connecting one of the attachments. I couldn’t get the hoses and attachments to fit together. Everything seemed to be the wrong size; nothing would fit into anything else. Five minutes, four failed attempts, and three expletives later, I finally managed to figure it out. But then I tried turning the vacuum on again, and I couldn’t remember where the “on” switch was. (I’m not making this up.) This is not my normal operating mode. I do not have early onset Alzheimer’s. I just wasn’t running on all three bike tires.
I’m not complaining. I’ve always been a night owl, but lately I’m starting to see that maybe it’s not that healthy to skimp on sleep. I read an article about this the other day. The article said that you can never catch up on lost sleep. Once lost, it’s gone forever. If that’s the case, I figure I’ve lost 20,160 hours of sleep since graduating from college. That’s more than 2 years’ worth of lost time. Does that mean I’m really 2 years younger than I thought? Or am I older? I need another cup of coffee to figure that one out.
In the United States, we have something called “Daylight Saving Time” for part of every year. This government-imposed fiddling with our biological and actual clocks came about during World War I in an effort to save energy. In most parts of the country, clocks “spring ahead” one hour in the spring and “fall back” an hour in the fall. They are about to fall back this Sunday, Nov. 5, at 2 a.m. The rationale behind this widely accepted (but unpopular) practice is explained here.
I happen to live in Arizona, where Daylight Saving Time is not observed, unless you live on the Navajo Nation, where they do observe it. But then, if you live on the Hopi Reservation, which is completely surrounded by the Navajo Nation, you don’t observe Daylight Saving Time, which must be especially confusing. Arizona seems to celebrate confusion. After all, we have towns named Why, Surprise, and – believe it or not – Avenue B and C.
Since I live in Arizona, I won’t be “falling back” one hour this year. But while the rest of the country celebrates their extra hour of sleep, I’ll make myself content in the knowledge that even if I’d gotten the extra hour, it would not have made up for the 20,160 hours I’ve already lost.
Wasting Time with Words With Friends
I’m infatuated with words. But lately, I’ve been spending an unhealthy amount of time with them, thanks to my latest addiction, Words With Friends. I have to break it off soon, but how? What’s the best way to tell Words With Friends that it’s over, especially when it constantly demands my attention with that insistent buzzing noise coming from my iPad?
“Buzz!” it purrs, seductively. “Somebody played a word — don’t you want to come over here and see how many points they made?”
“Buzz!” again. It sounds so needy. “Someone else just took a turn. You don’t want them to feel ignored, now, do you?”
“Buzz!” (Is it my imagination, or is it getting louder?) “You’ll never guess who that was! Come on, it’ll only take a second!”
I give in to my basest impulses, gingerly perching on the edge of the living room chair for what I tell myself will only be a minute. Before I know it, I’m hunched over, my neck is killing me, and an hour has gone by. The wet clothes are sitting in a lump in the washing machine, and whatever it was that I was cooking is permanently stuck to the bottom of the frying pan.
Currently, I’ve got six Words With Friends games going at once. I’m ashamed to admit it, but it’s true — I’m not at all monogamous when it comes to Words With Friends. I started out that way, but it was too easy to get involved with other people, especially when the sneaky little matchmaking devil-game matches you up with equally addictive personalities. As of today, I’m playing two games at once with my husband (I’m beating him at both), plus one with my nephew, two with my sisters, and one with a total stranger. We are having unprotected Words.
I really don’t have the physical stamina for six games at once (my neck will need a chiropractor soon) and the mental strain is wearing me down. Not only is it frustrating when I have all vowels or all consonants, but think of my anguish when I have the letter Q, but no U! The only Q-word I know of that doesn’t require a U is QI. I once tried to cheat by placing Q next to L (it looks so much like an I), but the nasty little program was on to me in a nanosecond, spitting a damning indictment across the bottom of the screen:
“QL is not a valid word.”
“Says who?” I spit back, but it was pointless. You can’t argue with its stupid little dictionary (which, by the way, just let my sister play “FE”). According to the game, FE is a word because it’s the periodic table symbol for iron. Well, if I’d known that chemical symbols were allowed, I would have played LSD a long time ago.
Then there are the moral dilemmas. Do you let your nephew win? Do you play the word “dildo” against your mother? Do you cry foul when your sister makes the word “Texas”? And why does the program allow Texas, but not Iraq?
And think of the hours I’ve wasted! I could have been doing something more productive today, like taking a shower, but instead I sat around and made ridiculous overtures with non-words like “da” and “bal.” I tried looking “bal” up already, so save yourself the time. It’s supposedly short for “balmoral,” a Scottish hat. Did you ever hear anyone, Scottish or otherwise, refer to a “bal”? If someone collects hats in Scotland, do you say that they have a lot of bals? I don’t think so! But Words With Friends gave me 14 points for making that dirty little word. Against my sister! I felt guilty pressing “play” after I made the word “bal,” but I couldn’t stop myself.
I can see why Alec Baldwin refused to give up his phone while playing Words With Friends on that airplane. It’s hard to hang up on your friends. OMG, I just realized how ridiculous I sound. I think I need an intervention.
Do you suppose if I just switched addictions — say, to blogging — I’d be better off? Because I think I’m getting addicted to that, too. In fact, right now I’ve got a daily habit, and I think it’s going to be hard to cut down. Speaking of which, I have to come up with an idea for tomorrow’s blog post. But first … I hear something buzzing at me. Gotta go!
So Many Questions
Dear Cheer Peppers,
What’s all this talk about Nano Poblano?
Why am I hearing about it just now?
Who are these peppers so chatty and cheerful?
Where do I upload my writing, and how?
One post a day for a month – are you crazy?
How can I manage to fit all that in?
What if I’m stranded on some desert island
Or dressing a turkey, or driving? What then?
Do I sound anxious? A bit apprehensive?
Am I afraid I’m not up to the task?
Yes, yes, and yes are my own honest answers
(To say otherwise would be too much to ask.)
Don’t get me wrong, I admire your focus
Your writing commitment is stunning and brave
But me, I’ll admit that I’m often quite scattered
Besides, I don’t think I have that much to say.
But hey, what the heck. I’m a sucker for challenge
Just dare me to do it and do it I’ll try
So I’m dipping my toe in the great Nano River
I’ll sink or I’ll swim but I won’t come out dry.
The water’s refreshing! I feel so much better!
Is that my reflection? And is that a smile?
I’m wading in now on the first of November
Please throw me a pencil; I’ll be here a while.
