Work it Out

Two work out-related things are stuck in my head so I thought I'd share them...

1) I was at the gym last night and at the weight machine next to me were two ladies of a certain age. They weren't ladies of a certain age in the classy, polished, "ladies who do lunch" way. It was more in the rumpled, can-of-frosting-eating, "ladies who have every-day sweats and dress sweats" way.

Anyway, they were taking turns on this one machine when one of the members of the fitness staff came over to them and started chatting. Obviously they'd encountered each other before and talked about his mother's health and his car. This guy is maybe 27 years old, not super good-looking but clean cut, in good shape and friendly. After talking with the ladies for a few minutes he made his way back to his desk. As he walked away I heard the one who was on the machine suck in her breath and say "Oooo, I'd like to take. Him. Home!" To which the other replied with a cackling "Girl, I bet you would!"
"He is just so cute," the first one continued. "I just wanna put'eem in my car and take'eem home. I don't know how I'd explain why he was there though!"

I couldn't figure out if she meant she'd have to explain it to her husband, or to the young guy, who would be thinking she needed help cleaning her gutters or opening a jar of pickles, only to have her seductively remove her dress sweats while he stood shaking in her dark wood paneled kitchen.

2) Looking around at some of the men working out, I had a childhood flashback. Due to the "before and after" pictures in Bowflex commercials, I spent a significant part of my youth thinking that when a man started to lift weights, his muscles got so big that they made all the hair on his chest pop off.

Kitty

Being home and having a lot of free time has been really nice. I've gotten to do things I wouldn't normally have the opportunity to do. For example, last week I stayed with my cousin's adorable daughter when she had to stay home sick from school. Today, my mom and I spent the afternoon with my Grandmom, Kitty, who is my dad's mom. We helped her clean her windows, wash her curtains and put up some new shades.

While these tasks aren't fun in and of themselves, doing them with my grandmom makes them pretty entertaining. In her old age, she has become one of those sassy old ladies who just decided she's been around long enough to say whatever she wants. Some people may be put off by this but I find her hilarious. Some of her lines from today include the following:

- On my mom suggesting we go to Home Depot to get new window treatments: "Oh yeah, I have a charge card for there. Hot Damn!"

- On arriving at Home Depot, the greeter at the entrance said "Hello ladies, how are you today?" "SHADES!," Grandmom shouted over him. "Window shades!"

- On how long her nails have gotten: "Well, I love to pick scabs..."

- On serving us lunch: "I don't want to hear anything about any diets. This lunch is...this lunch is just go to hell!"

- On kids not getting up and sneaking down to look at their Christmas presents: "Oh, I used to pee the bed every Christmas Eve."

- On her 80-something sister getting remarried this summer: "Well, don't tell me there wasn't some hankey pankey going on before that. She thinks she's still 60 years old, ya know."

Don't think I'm not taking notes for 50 years from now...

Scaredy Cat

As I was going to bed the other night, I realized that my closet doors were open and I got out of bed to close them. As I did that, I wondered why it really mattered to me that the doors be closed. Then I remembered that when I was little, I was afraid of my closet. I tried to remember why- I think it had to do with the loud noise the doors made when they opened or closed, along with the dark, hard-to-access, hard-to-get-out-of corners.

That got me thinking about what else I was scared of as a kid, versus what I'm scared of today as a sort-of adult. Let's see how the past stacks up against the present:


Then: My closet
Now: Dying a spinster

Then: The sound of the toilet flushing in our hallway bathroom
Now: Developing chin hairs

Then: My mom when she was angry
Now: My mom when she's angry

Then: Getting kidnapped out of my bedroom window at night
Now: What state Social Security will be in when I retire

Then: Escalators
Now: Melanoma

Then: Accidentally farting in public
Now: Accidentally farting in public

I guess some things will never change.

Just Desserts

This is bad. Since I came home, I've been trying really hard to detox from alcohol, bad-for-me food and general sloth-ish behavior. I've been going to the gym with my sister as her guest, taking spinning, kickboxing and boxing circuit classes. I've been eating lots of fruits and vegetables and I haven't had an alcoholic beverage in almost two weeks. I also haven't really had any sort of baked good or candy bar either and that is the really difficult part.

Tonight, Jackie and I went to spinning and then came home and had grilled chicken and salad and some raspberry Jell-O. But then we started watching the World Pastry Chef competition and things went downhill- fast. Without saying anything, we'd both gotten up multiple times and wandered out of the family room and into the kitchen, scavenging for something sweet. Unfortunately there's not much to choose from, since we've refrained from buying the bad stuff. The remaining 1/16 of a week-old apple pie has several fork marks in it. Three half-stale jelly peach rings aren't getting the job done, and I felt ashamed at almost being caught squeezing year-old blue decorative icing out of the tube directly into my mouth.

We didn't realize the extent of our desperation until I remembered a Kinder chocolate hippo that had been in a candy dish in the family for I don't know how long. I snatched it up and Jackie grabbed a knife. She cut it in half and took a nibble.

"It doesn't taste good," she said. "I think there's a cobweb in it."
"What?!" I replied. "Let me see."

I looked into my half. It looked like the cake-like substance inside had gotten very crumbly but I didn't see any cobwebs. Undeterred I sallied forth and took a bite as Jackie threw her half away, wondering how unacceptable it would be to pull a George Costanza and fish hers out of the trash. Before I could complete that thought though, I realized that the confection I was chewing to satisfy my chocolate craving tasted like blue cheese.

I spit it out, threw away the remainder and joined Jackie in leaning over the sink, repeatedly filling our mouths with water and spitting it out. I think we've hit a new low.

No Place Like Home

I've been home for three weeks now. Here is a little bit of what's been going on:

- I went to a Phillies game with my dad and resisted the urge to turn around and chastise the obnoxious man behind us heckling the left fielder
- I danced on a layer of beer and broken glass at the O.D. in Sea Isle
- I've expressed my concern over the possibility of meeting a guy who's really great but has a strong Philly accent
- I started going to the gym and tore up my little baby hands in boxing circuit training class
- I've seen almost all of my best friends and a good number of family members
- I housed a third of a box of Pop'Ems in one sitting
- I've taken multiple bubble baths
- I've taken some long drives and subsequently have sung show tunes at the top of my lungs
- I've made an average of four Wawa trips per week

We'll see in the next few months what else the US holds for me...

Electric Slide

I had a reader ask me to address a question on my blog. Since that's never happened before, I thought I should give it a shot. Since I'm apparently considered a world traveler now, I think people think I'll know a lot more about other countries than I do.

I am, however, a really good Googler So when this reader (who wishes to remain anonymous) asked me to blog about why different countries have different outlets/plugs, I said I was up to the challenge.






















From what I read, it seems that the reason is twofold. First, different countries have different voltages based on their varying power supplies. The plugs are based on how high or low the voltage is coming out of the outlets. A higher voltage power requires a round plug, while a lower voltage requires a flat plug.

The second reason is fiscal. If every country had the same plugs, you could buy appliances from anywhere and use them in your home. If the plugs are exclusive to a country, residents have to buy things that are made specifically for that country, presumably by company that is based there, thus supporting the country's economy.

I hope this is helpful. By the way this could be completely inaccurate, as it didn't come from a really reliable site like, say, Wikipedia. But these explanations sound valid so I'm willing to accept them at face value. Don't worry, ths doesn't mean I'm going to switch over to be a helpful, question-answering blog. There will be plenty of stories to come of general awkwardness and random life experiences.

Smile, You're in...Montmelo

I've been a little negligent of this blog lately. It's partly because I've been working on stuff for Barcelona-Insiders.com and thisBoundlessworld.com. I've been writing travel articles for other sites but I thought I'd write one for my little baby blog too.

I've had this idea for a while of going to ticket machine at the train station and randomly picking a destination from the touch screen, either by the name or not looking and just poking a finger at the screen and seeing which destination was selected. I thought it would be an adventure.

Last week my friends Laura, Jessica and I went to the train station and did just that. We decided to choose by name. We narrowed it down to a few names we liked and ended up going with a place called Montmelo (I liked it because it made me think of marshmallow).

There were a few signs that maybe should have told us that this wasn't going to be an epic adventure.

First- right after we put the money in to buy the tickets, the man behind us asked if we were in fact going to Montmelo, which he apparently spied on from his position in line. We said yes and he asked if we were going for the Formula One race. We answered with an urgent and definitive "No!" lest anyone should overhear it and think we are race car fans. "Well, it's not worth it," he replied, apparently not understanding our response. Strike one, Montmelo.


Second- On the train ride there, Jess and Laura sat together and I sat in an adjacent row of seats along the side wall. I turned in my seat so I was facing them. A young man got on the train and sat in the seat behind me. After a while I noticed that he seemed to have turned in his seat the same way I had so that he was also sitting sideways. Except that, I had turned to face my friend, he was now facing the back of my head. I sensed something in that way that only girls who have plenty of experience with creepers can.

"He's staring at the back of my head, isn't he?" I asked the girls quiety and in rapid English. "Oh yeah," Jess replied.
"And he's got a real weird look on his face too," added Laura.
"Oh God, is he gonna touch my hair?"

Jess and Laura weren't as concerned about this as I was and started trying to figure out which actor he looked like. They determined that he looked like the kid who played Anakin Skywalker and was in that movie Jumper.
"Something Christian," said Laura.
"Oh right, Christian Haydenson!" replied Jess.
"Yes! That's it!" exclaimed Laura.
"It's Hayden Christensen, guys," I broke in. "For real though, is he sniffing my hair?!"
Luckily he got off a couple stops before us. Still, though, Strike two.

We finally arrived at our desitination and began walking around. There seemed to be a church and a street with three restaurants and a shoe store. We walked around the residential streets, cameras in hand, getting some strange looks from the locals
We decided to have lunch at one of the outdoor cafes on the main street. We had a nice lunch. It was a cute little town, but after lunch we went to look for gelato. No dice. Strike three, Montmelo, big time.

We caught a train back to our beloved Barcelona and had giant gelatos (I got a scoop of dark chocolate and a scoop of hazlenut- amazing) and walked around the bustling streets, happy to be home after our "adventure."

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