I wear my Nerd Card with pride.

It does scare people sometimes.

So I moved. I've mentioned it before. To a wonderful planned community. The houses are lovely examples of classic American architecture.

They also happen to look very similar and everyone seems to really love earth tones. There are a lot of variations on the brown theme. Not to mention the houses have all been built in the last year so no one has really had time to change anything. No fancy landscaping or personal details.

Right now it has a distinctive Stepford feel.

Blah Blah Blah, no one cares about your new house. Stop bragging about your American dream.

Sorry. There is a point in this.

Once a month the ladies from the development meet in the clubhouse for drinks and chatting. It gives us a chance to get to know our neighbors and to talk about how much we love the South. (Not sure how I'm disproving that Stepford comment yet.)

When new ladies arrive we go through the process of explaining which house we live in.

Mrs. X: I live in the one with the double porch.

Mrs. Y: Oh the one in the cul de sac?

Mrs. X: No the one across from the pool.

Mrs. Y: Oh with the dark brown trim or the beige trim?

Mrs. X: Dark Brown.

This is a typical conversation.

Not me though.

All I have to say is Blue Door. Yup. Two words and everyone smiles and nods because they know what I'm talking about.

What does this have to do with being a nerd?

Excellent question. I swear you guys are so smart.

Stop sucking up. We still aren't going to comment on your blog.

Please? Never mind you heartless bastards. Back to the story.

Usually they follow it up with a question about why I love the color blue so much.

Last night though I skipped over the regular pleasantries and told them the truth.

My door is TARDIS blue.

Yeah I just admitted my door color was chosen based on my nerd love of a TV show.

That just happened. Surprisingly, I feel no shame.

There were a few pleasant smiles and some quiet chuckles but not a one of them knew who Doctor Who was so then I was forced to explain it.

That was a bad decision. Trying to explain Doctor Who to people who have never even heard of it is like trying to explain physics, in French, to a 3 year old.

That is to say I sounded insane, angry and I wasn't making any sense all at the same time.

So I didn't find any new nerd souls sisters but I did horify my neighbors and that sometimes can be just as rewarding.

Did you know that I like the Yankees?

Yeah well I do. And not just because they're awesome and I'm awesome so obviously we are a match made in heaven. I've loved them since I can remember.

You remember in the 80's when they were awful? Yeah I still loved them. Of course it's possible I loved them more when they were winning but it's hard to be sure. Plus I don't like to think I'm the kind of person that would feel that way. Totally not cool.

Why are you telling us about your love for a sports team?

Excellent question.

I'm telling you because Triple S was watching his favorite team in the play-offs.

Before you ask it's the Red Sox and no I don't want to talk about it. He can't be perfect.

Now I'm not bitter about the Yankees having a sucktacular season but that doesn't mean I'm about to start enjoying the Red Sox playing. I seriously don't I hate them. Not because they are my favorite team's epic rival but because they don't understand word definitions.

That's a weird reason to hate a team.

Yeah it is. Still it's is a reason.

uniform

1.identical or consistent, as from example to example, place to place, or moment to moment: uniform spelling; a uniform building code.

2.without variations in detail: uniform output; a uniform surface.

3.constant; unvarying; undeviating: uniform kindness; uniform velocity.

4.constituting part of a uniform: to be issued uniform shoes.

5.Mathematics . occurring in a manner independent of some variable, parameter, function, etc.: a uniform bound.

I want you to concentrate on definition #1.

Short pants and a scruffy beard. NO!

Long pants and another beard! NO NO!

Please read above again. It's called a uniform for a reason. And it isn't just because they liked the way the word sounded. 

Did you know Steinbrenner had a dress code? or a hair cut code? Not sure what he called it. 

 

Yeah. George did that. After the Red Sox won the world series they did spots on lots of TV shows including a makeover one. A few of the players got haircuts and new wardrobes but they were not allowed to touch Johnny Damon's hair. Of course all that changed after he joined the Yankees.

So I don't care if it's no shave November even though it's October. Get a haircut you Hippies! You're on a team, you can express your individuality after you choke and the season is over.

One (more) Weird Thing About Me

Not sure what the total number of crazy traits I've revealed on this blog is but I'm adding one more.

Is this thing on?

I sing in the car. Actually I sing anywhere I am alone or just with my kids. I do so loudly and as often as I can. If I'm watching the Voice I get excited when I can sing along.

I could totally get at least one chair to turn.

Now none of this is really weird. Lots of people love Karaoke and even more sing in the shower. The weird part is that I think I'm good. Not Adele or Aretha Franklin good. I'm not delusional. (stop laughing)

I'm totally good enough to sing in some local cover band. Or at least that's the crazy story I tell myself in my head when I'm BELTING out tunes.

Old and new. Today's play list in the car included Nina Simone, Melody Gardot , Bruno Mars and Maroon 5. There was some other stuff mixed in but those are my favs. The ones I really go to town on.

So if you are on my street and the windows of my house are open, there is a good chance you will hear some singing. If you think I'm awesome feel free to say something. If you don't, you have nothing to fear because although I will fearlessly give a speech in front of a thousand people or hold a giant snake or ride some crazy twisting upside down roller coaster, I don't sing in front of people (that aren't related to me).

Wait that's not true.

Shhh. This part is shameful and you all must pinky swear before I reveal it. I can trust you guys right?

In 8th grade I sang in the talent show.

What? That's not so bad you say.

Agreed.

Here comes the bad part, and remember you are sworn to secrecy.

I sang Wind Beneath My Wings.

Better Midler. I sang Better Midler in a room filled with 13 year olds and their parents.

Let me clarify. I sat on a stool in the middle of the stage wearing some hippie, flowing skirt and sang with my eyes closed.

You might be thinking that everyone was cruel. That they mocked me and that is why I don't sing in public anymore but you would be wrong. They were kind and generous. They said nothing but nice things.

Who knows why I stopped what could have been a very mediocre rise to a first round elimination from American Idol. It's one of Life's great mysteries and I will leave you to ponder it.

Until the next time I get introspective and post more of my crazy.

Zumba (It's not just a late night infomercial)

Zumbathon!





This past Sunday was the Zumbathon.

Right now you might be thinking that I have mentioned that twice but still not explained it. To you I say two things. 1) thanks for reading this and 2) chill out. I'm getting to it.

Zumbathon (third time, please don't turn this into a drinking game) is the Fundariser Zumba runs for the Sunsan G Komen Foundation. A worthy cause. Breast cancer affects 1 in.........

Sorry this isn't that blog. We all know Cancer is BAD but if you need some uplifting story you are going to have to go elsewhere.

Here you get sarcasm and cynicism, probably some weird observations. Oh yeah and buckets and buckets of CRAZY.

So back to Sunday. On the infomercials everyone looks like they are having so much fun. Jumping and shaking their "money maker" (I'm sorry, I will never say that again). All wearing matching Zumba gear.

That's crazy.

Except that is pretty much how every class goes. Without the matching gear. That stuff isn't cheap!

3 hours is a lot longer than the 60 minutes we usually do. Like three times longer. (Math genius!) I was prepared though. I bought energy bars and jelly beans. Don't judge. They were energy jelly beans made by Jelly Belly and yes that is a real thing.

See, totally not made up.

Not to mention water. With the way I sweat it out I refilled my bottle 5 times. Crazy, and super gross. At the end my skin felt like I had spent the day at the beach, again gross.

I never said it was glamorous. I was jumping around for 3 hours!

This is the end of the day and be thankful this is from afar. And that you can't smell us.

The Zumbathon (I changed my mind about the drinking game but pace yourself! You're not in college anymore) was held at a gymnastic studio and the floor was all bouncy. I felt like Micheal Jordan! I had like a 7 foot vertical leap.

That's me on the far left. And yes I know I look awesome!

Okay maybe not 7 feet but it was 7 inches. At least. Seriously I was catching some air. For the first 20 minutes I was a crazy person and then I remembered I had committed to 3 hours! Bouncy floor or not I was going to need to pace myself. So I slowed down.

Me and some of the crazy ladies who thought 3 hours of Zumba was a good idea.

And thanks to the Jelly Belly jelly beans and the awesome music and instructors, I survived. I could barely lift my leg to get into the car but I did manage it. Sure I looked like a 90 year old lady with a bad hip but I was still moving. Of course when I got into the car I was terrified I wasn't going to be able to get out again once I got home. (In case you were worried I did manage to get out, it was slow but I did it without help.woo hoo!)

Monday I woke up and sat at the edge of the bed for ten minutes, afraid to try and stand. When I finally did convince myself I had no choice I was shocked to find I was fine. Seriously. Fine. It was crazy!

3 hours! and I was fine the next morning. Guess this working out thing is actually doing something.

Awesome.


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I just realized that in the beginning I said Zumba was like the infomercials but without all the matching then I posted pictures and we are all wearing the same thing. I think that's called irony. Or just my lack of attention to detail. Either way. The pink shirt was to raise more money for boob cancer. So I got one.

Stop judging. It was for a good cause.

And even though I didn't talk about the good work of the Susan G Komen foundation...

http://ww5.komen.org/donate/donate.html

http://www.zumba.com/partyinpink

Just in case.

Don't tell anyone I sent you. I don't need anyone knowing that I'm not an evil non feeling weirdo.

these are a few of my favorite things.

So Triple S (Super Supportive Scott, AKA my husband) has added a new header to my blog that somehow manages to include my 3 favorite things (if you don't include my kids, or my husband, of course).

Number one is Chuck Norris.
If I need to explain to you why Chuck is awesome then you should leave right now. Or you can read about him here,  or watch here, did I mention he trained with Bruce Lee?


Number two is the Dodge Challenger. A modern day muscle car with 350 horses under the hood... Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. Sorry. My heart stopped for a minute because I was thinking about the sound the engine makes. Have you seen it's beauty? There is currently a model of the car sitting next to the keyboard on my desk. (Test drove it again the other day but that's another story)

Number three Jason Statham.
If you haven't seen The Transporter you need to. Seriously! Stop right now and watch it's awesomeness. He takes his shirt off just to tie some guy up in it. I'm not kidding. That actually happens.He does that in a lot of his movies. It's usually my favorite part. Along with the kicking. And the punching. And the English accent.

It's like a trifecta of awesome.

Enjoy it while you can kiddies. Triple S is a fickle bastard and is likely to change it again.

OHHH. Maybe it can include Eliot Spencer?