You're an athletic girl. I'm more of a horseback-riding, wall-climbing, yoga-going type of girl. -The Princess Diaries

I have always thought that yoga was a calm....relaxing type of exercise. They have all that zeny music with the bells and pipes and stuff.....

The girls that come out of those classes look relaxed and calm and unless it is that class of yoga where you do it in a room with the heater on 100 deg, no one ever sweats. I mean if you have to do it in a sauna to break a sweat, I am thinking this is something pretty easy!

Right?

WRONG!!!

It is a smoke screen! It is a lie put out there by all those hippie-dippie waif like women who are always wanting to adjust your chakras.....

The music....I am convinced.....is really just there to muffle the inner cries of pain!

Unless you hadn't guessed by now....today was my first bout with yoga....

We did it in the water, which I think had to be a lot easier than regular yoga because it is easier to balance and the buoyancy of the water displaces some of your weight (yeah I'm a nerd)....and still I wanted to SCREAM!!!

I mean Buddha is supposed to a tranquil god....

again......no......he is the Indian god of Torture.....I mean, just look at him.....there is evil in those eyes...

One hour after my battle with Buddha, I was sore in places that I did not know existed.....and yet.....my chakras have never been more in line....whatever that means.....

My CPU is a neuronet processor, a learning computer.

I am in college, so I learn new things everyday...some things are interesting and some things are ridiculous....but still, you learn.

I was complaining the other day to my friend Mindy that when I get REALLY mad, I cry more than when I am sad.

Being that Mindy is eerily smart and has a gazillion letters after her name, she informs me that crying is not a physiological response to anger. (Her degrees are in Psychology and Counseling, so I trust that she knows what she is talking about here.) She goes on to say that we subconsciously use anger as an excuse to cry, but there has to be a hidden hurt to make you cry.

Armed with this thought provoking information....I did what most people do with profound knowledge.....nothing....I got on with my life.....

About two weeks ago I was at the Texas History Museum. I was wondering through the different displays when I came across an elderly African American gentleman looking at an exhibit on the contributions of African Americans to the formation and development of Texas. In particular I see that he is reading the accounts of African Americans who were persecuted later in the civil rights movement. He is standing there reading and holding the hand of a young boy of about five years old.


There are two things that I noticed. First was that there were tears in his eyes as he read the words that I know had to mean more to him personally than I could comprehend.....and second that the hand the little boy was holding had a Sponge Bob Square Pants band-aid on it. I know that the man had two hurts....one that went deep, and caused a physiological response that brought out tears....and one that could be healed by a kiss and a Sponge Bob band-aid. I also know that the first pain will be ok, because he had someone to care enough to give him the kiss and the band-aid.



I smiled at the scene in front of me and moved on the next display.



Last week I had to go to the hardware store to pick up some things for the new house. I am standing in line to check out behind an older gentleman in overalls, sun-worn leathery skin and a camouflage hat. He reminded me of my dad.....southern....handy....and leading a simple life. Holding his hand was a girl of about seven years old calling him "Grandpa". I smiled and then froze. On his arm was a Sponge Bob band aid.

I know it had to have been put there by the girl with the large eyes and pig-tails. Just like the one I had seen weeks before on the hand of the gentleman at the museum, someone had cared enough about his pain to try to patch it....and he had appreciated it enough to walk around with Sponge Bob on his arm.

As I left the hardware store I stopped at Subway to get dinner. There was a bit of a line so I had a little bit to watch the girl behind the counter. She was obviously having "one of those days". She was flustered by every order coming her way. When I made my way to the front of the line, I ordered my sandwich. When she was done, she asked if there would be anything else, and I asked for a chocolate chip cookie. She rolled her eyes and asked me if I saw any chocolate chip cookies. (The case was devoid of chocolate chip.)

Now those of you that know me know that this is usually the point in the story when I would pop off some witty remark to put her in her place, however, I had learned something this week.

I asked her instead, "What is your favorite?"

"White chocolate macadamia nut", she answered with a huff.

"I'll take two. Thank you!"

She handed me my bag at which point I dug out one of the cookies and handed it to her. Her shoulders slumped and her head dropped.

When she looked up, she had a sad smile and tear in her eye. "Thank you", she whispered.

"Your welcome!", I answered and walked outside.

I don't know what her hurt was that caused that tear, but I knew I did not have a Sponge Bob band aid......just a cookie.....

Wendy the Water Polo Witch

Boys and Girls.....school started this week.....


Yeah, I said it.....the phrase that strikes fear into the heart, of children, students, parents, teachers, bus drivers and lunch ladies worldwide......


For me, however, I have been kinda looking forward to this semester....after the dust settled on last semester, the score was BIO, CHEM and CALC - 0......Amy - 1. I really kicked last semester's tail (see Mom, I said tail and not ass!)....so this semester I have momentum!


This semester started like any other....minus the fact that I had to wake-up on my sofa instead of a bed since I still am rather homeless and had see my roommate's naked butt (not bad by the way) when I went into his room to get my clothes since that is where my dresser currently lives and he is evidently VERY anti-pajamas.....anywho....I digress.....


I went to my first class (Organic Chemistry) and was promptly handed a syllabus that I mistook for the text book....this sucker is HUGE....this does not bode well for me!


Then....a little sunshine.....I discovered that my second class is in the exact same room as my first....this may not seem like a big deal to you, but I go to one of the largest Universities in the nation....this is a BIG deal.....


Ok....so I am easily impressed, but still.....


I was then released to go to my swimming class! I have been looking forward to this class for months!


First, we do a fitness test to see approximately where we are physically (I already knew the answer to this question....it's a number and it stares up at me from the scale every morning...I don't like that number....) She tells us that she is going to pair us with partners of similar physical abilities for the semester.


After completing the test, our instructor tallies our scores while we introduce ourselves to the other members of the class. There are your typical 18 yr hard bodies that make me want to snap them like a twig (but I'm not bitter).....some older (and much larger) staff members....and the rest of us that range from twig to tank and everywhere in between....



One of the girls that introduced herself added that she is on the UT Water Polo team. She is a really fit girl...not twig....not tank.....just muscles. I mentally laughed "Thank God I won't be paired with her!"

WRONG!

I have no idea what my instructor was thinking, but I got stuck with Wonder Woman....

I asked her if she was sure......I mean, collegiate athlete I am not! Not even close.....I mean Water Polo?

Player...no.......pool buoy...maybe.....

I looked at her and and gave her this apologetic smile that said, "sorry your got stuck with the floatation device", but she just have me this smug little smile and asked "What? Don't you think you could keep up?"

That's it.....bitch is going down!

Yes. Doug Can Read.

Well guys, I am finally moved into my new place.....

Although I use most of those words very loosely.

Take the word my for example....technically, my stuff lives in this new house, but I do not. I had to be out of my apartment by Dec. 24 (which I made...by the skin of my teeth....and more help from Mindy than she EVER should have agreed to....LOVE YOU MINDY!!!!) Anyway, the house is a four bedroom....one of the guys and the girl that currently live there are staying and will be my new roomies! However, two of the guys that live there are on a waiting list for a condo downtown......for those of you that are mathematically inclined and just did that math in your head (mom), know that makes five people and four bedrooms.....that also means that there are three sofas, two coffee tables, two end tables, a papasan chair, a book shelf, two tv's with their own tv stands, and a huge fish tank IN THE LIVING ROOM ALONE.

Lets just say chaos reigns.....or for you scientific dorks like me....this reaction has a positive entropy.

Anyway so now I am bouncing back and forth between the new house and Mindy's....but that is soooooooooo not even the point of this blog.....

When I was packing to move, Mindy put her foot down....just like my mom did the move before this about the number of books I own......

Here is the thing......it is against my religion to throw away a book.....and I know I read a TON of ratty romance novels....but hey.....I love them! I know I could lug them down to Half-Price Books and sell them back, but like I said "ratty romance novels".....they don't exactly fetch a pretty penny.

TOTALLY NOT worth the effort! So they sit on my bookshelf....and in my car...and backpack....and side tables.....and random bathroom drawers....once even in my freezer (no idea)....

Well Mindy and I..........ok so mainly Mindy........decided that the ones that I don't re-read have to go, and since we are making a Goodwill run anyway, that is where they are headed.

Seven Hefty bags later......

Yes! I said SEVEN.....You know that moment when an alcoholic decides that they do NOT have a drinking problem but just to prove it to everyone, they go through their house and start pouring out bottles. When all is said and done, there are bottles covering both the counter and the dining room table....well, it's kinda like that!

There was Janet Evanovich, Jude Deveroux, Jennifer Cruise and Sandra Brown all strewn about in all their fabulous glory.

That's when I knew.......My name is Amy.....and I have a reading problem!