Observations from a waterpark

This Saturday we went to a waterpark in the north of our state. It's one of these things that has a lazy river, slides, obstacle courses, kiddie/fecal matter pools, lap pools etc. It's great fun for all ages which is why we went because my brother in law and his family had come down from their home to see us and we'd all met at my mother in law's.

Now I'll start by saying that we're not a typical family. First there's the Spanish speaking which is not unusual in this state or this area, but which could have gotten us into terrible trouble since the county where the water park is is trying to get rid of all Hispanics, um, sorry, illegals (just Hispanics). On top of this, my BIL and his wife adopted a baby girl from Ecuador when she and The Kid were about 10 months old (they are three days apart, give or take since no one is really sure when she was born). So José, like Ricardo is married to a Jew from the Northeast. But they have a Native American child. Oh, and their other child? A 15 year old former boy soldier from Sierra Leone who is trying to get asylum to stay in the US. He's awesome. Smart, funny, clever and charming.

So here comes this loud, Spanish/English (Creole, I guess too but only the Boy Soldier speaks that) multi generational family and we're getting a lot of stares. But I kind of don't see why. Because my niece is a very attractive girl, the Boy Soldier is gorgeous, and none of us resembled anything close to the human freak show in attendance at this park.

See the park itself belongs to the county. It's public. And that means that the people who come to it are also the public. And I have this to say. There are some fucking freakish looking people in this world. And seeing them in their bathing suits? Yeah. That doesn't help. Moreover, it seems the more outlandish one person is, the more bizarre their mate is as well.

Couple #1: Skinny skinny little white guy around 48 maybe 50ish. Balding, but with a scraggly, pitiful pony tail which reaches 1/2 way down his back. Sunken chest, chicken skinned flesh. Has not been in the sun in 40 years. But who is he with? A massive woman, with rolls and rolls of blubber wearing a bikini three times too small for her. Now I am not a small woman. I freely admit that. But I also would never dream of wearing a bikini in public. Hence the id picture joke, people. When your stomach rolls over the bikini bottom so that the only fabric visible is from the back end, it is time for a different sartorial choice, woman.

Couple #2: Tandem Tattoos. He is clearly military (what gives it away? The Semper Fi tattoo, of course). She is clearly not a real blond (roots the size of Nebraska). She has an elaborately flourished tattoo on one shoulder of the name Kevin (I hope/assume it's the Marine). On the other arm she has a celtic-like arm band. She has a rose on her low stomach and, wait for it... a butterfly on her hip. He's got a matching arm band although has gone with the more masculine barbed wire, and the forearm of his other arm has a Sacred Heart of Jesus tattoo.

Couple #3: Massive man with a stomach that makes him look like he's 18 months pregnant. But it's not the stomach that is as distracting as the fact that he is liberally furred all over with thick curling hair. The guy looks like he wore a velcro suit to the vet's office and then rolled around on the floor. It's unbelievable! He is with a woman who is waaaaay too old to have a rhinestone belly button ring and who is so deeply tanned that she is in fact leathery looking. Like she's been tanned, not by the sun, but by a professional who plans to use her hide for a nice pair of pumps. She is sporting a pair of fake boobs so stiff that you could hang a winter coat on them, and nails which are long, hot pink, and pierced with a little gold ring and rhinestone. Gorilla man spends his time in the inner tube on the lazy river with his foot hooked into the handle of her tube while she spends most of her time in a cervical tuck, rearranging the expensive cleavage in the shocking pink bikini top so that she (and he) spend most of their time contemplating that particular expenditure.

And people stared at us. I guess we're just as freakish as everyone else.

I've been very good about going to the gym most days

and the results?

I've fucking gained weight. That is the result of working out every day. I gained 5 pounds.

Jesus Christ on a Popsicle stick!

I'm even paying for a personal trainer to torture my "core" muscles for a half hour. Which is very painful, by the way. And then I spend a half hour on the arc trainer. And then I stretch and do my back exercises. The results are weight gain.

I get that muscle weighs more than fat, but this is a real shit sandwich. Because the whole point was to lose weight and not gain it.

I guess this is another instance of the way my life seems to work.

What I have learned this week

1. Do not sit on a vinyl chair in your underwear even if your kid is at camp and you don't need to wear pants. It's summer here and you will be sorry.

2. Bring your own damn towel to the gym. Theirs are manky and ewwww.

3. Order more water than you think you need because even if you think you don't drink it, the tap water is gross and you'll be sorry when you run out of good water and have to drink that shit.

4. I have conceivably the worst luck ever: I join the gym, two days later I get the email that says it's only $9.50/month through my school system. I buy an iPod shuffle and then I get the $50 rewards certificate from Best Buy one week later.

5. Food simply disappears upon bringing it into the house. I know I don't eat it. Some of it I do. But it's futile to try to keep the fridge full when everyone is home and eating all the time.

6. Chorizo chimichangas are a stern master.

That's what I've learned. Can't wait to see what happens next, can you?

I've been a baking fool!

Since I have been back here from the New England City which shall remain nameless but finally has a winning baseball team, I have been baking a lot. It's probably because I am really depressed about some things going on right now which I can't talk about on the blog but which suck more than anything has ever sucked before.

So last weekend we had someone to dinner on Saturday night. And I made a chocolate raspberry cake. But her dog ate part of it while we weren't looking. So Sunday, when we were going to our friends' house for dinner, I had said I'd bring dessert. And I had meant to bring the chocolate raspberry cake. But since the dog ate part and we'd eaten part, I figured I needed to make a different cake.

The Kid and I went to the Giant up the highway from us and I got it into my head to make a coconut cake. So I made a massive (I mean this sucker had to weigh 6 pounds) coconut mound of a cake. It was delicious. But since I had the leftover chocolate cake with the raspberry filling and since Ricardo and I ate a ton of the frosting (may I recommend using coco lopez in the coconut frosting? It is to die for), we left the rest of the cake with friends.

Now tonight, we have someone coming to dinner. So I am baking a blueberry pie. I even did the lattice top and glazed it and sugared it.

I guess joining the gym was perhaps prescient? Oh except, that with my luck, two days after I signed the 12 month contract I found out that I could get a deal through my school system to pay only $9.50 a month. Two fucking days. Fuck. I need a pie.

I just joined a gym

I've never belonged to a gym before. Frankly they are not the place people of my particular dimensions want to be seen in sticky tight clothing. If I were svelte, I'd be thrilled to sport some stretchy tops, but since all my tops are stretchy if only to fit across my ample bosom, it's just not the same.

See I've realized this year has royally sucked ass. I kind of hate my job in that the kids are not the age group I really like. I love my principal and would work for her any time. And my partners are really great, but it's not the kind of teaching I love doing.

Ricardo has had a brutalizing year with all the administration stuff going on and still having other responsibilities.

My mom has had surgery for cancer. My step-mother-in-law had a pacemaker put in. It's been a shitastic year.

And the newest crap keeps on getting hurled onto the top of the pile. I can't blog about it because it's all still going on, but imagine all the bad things that have been listed and then crank them to 11 (you know, it's one more than 10). Let's sum it up by saying I don't think I've ever cried this much since my son was born prematurely and we were told he'd have only a 60% survival rate. And since in a few weeks that got bumped up to 90%, this is in many ways worse.

All I can say is that our health is fine, the house is good (cool thank God because it's fucking hot out here), the kid is fine. It's just everything else that's in disarray.

So I figured, I could go to the doctor and get some drugs to counteract the panic attacks, *or* I could go to the gym.

And how things have changed! Ok so this is Gold's Gym. As in super buff, steroid freaks with cooking oil slicking themselves down. But it's not! It's full of like normal people. Chunks like me, decrepit gomers even, completely normal people. And I'm all excited. So I am going back tomorrow. I did stop at K-Mart next door because at home I tend to get on the elliptical in a crapped out sportsbra, jammie pants and sneakers. It seemed I needed actual clothes for public exhibition of exercise. But even so, it's a good deal for teachers.

And the best part is they don't have a pool. So we can use all these hotel pools here in town. And since pool memberships run $1200, I figure $39.99/month is a bargain.

So how long will I make it going there? We'll see.

Squirrel Bait

And I am not making this up. I was on the phone with Ricardo at the time and he can vouch for how wigged out I was by it all.

So I am at my mom's still, helping out while she's recovering from her surgery (and she's doing really well which is awesome because I don't think I realized how worried I was before it all). And she lives in this amazingly fabulous brownstone in an undisclosed New England city (you do the freaking math). I didn't want to wake her yesterday so I decided to call Ricardo while sitting on her stoop which is something one does in said undisclosed New England city (it's simple math, people).

I've been really emotional lately because there is a whole lot of hideous shit going on on our lives above and beyond my mom's cancer and my job with feral third graders. So I really needed to connect with Ricardo because I was emotionally gelatinous yesterday morning (better today but still edgy, so Ricky turn on your damn cell phone already this morning!). So I sat on the stoop so we could chat.

And it was perfect weather, like the temperature of air conditioning, 70 and dry. And we're chatting about everything, what this year will be like, plans for his book, work for the summer, schedule for the Kid, yadda yadda, when I notice this cute little squirrel looking right at me. But it's a wild, city squirrel so I think to myself it won't come near me. Not that I am afraid of squirrels. I kind of like them. It's the series of rabies shots I fear. You know how I like those freakshow shows? Well I watched one about a girl who got rabies from a bat in her church and what happened to her and well all I can say is OMFG I do not want rabies.

So I ignored the squirrel and kept chatting. But then it started up the stairs. My mom's house has a lot of stairs. There are like 10 just to get to the front door. And the squirrel was warily but steadily making his way towards me. And looking at me with his beady little eyes. He'd scurry up a couple stairs and then turn sideways and pace a little and then come up some more. He was coming right for me.

So I stood up thinking that that would scare him. He bolted across the railing onto the matching stairs to the neighbor's house. I sat back down and thought that was the end. But it wasn't. The squirrelly bastard started peaking through the scroll work. And the next thing I knew he was back on my side.

I started to wig. Ricardo said throw something at him. But it's a city in an undisclosed New England location. Everything is fucking bolted down or people steal shit. So the best I could find were some dead leaves off a plant and a styrofoam bird in my mother's window box. So I threw the leaf because I didn't want to find that the window box came down. The fucking thing made a lunge at that point.

I swear it was headed towards my ankles. So I was the one running now. I ran down the stairs away from it and the beast followed me. So I ran back up the stairs and it came after me. I hissed at it like you do a cat and it just stopped and stared at me then kept a-coming. And all I could think of is a series of shots in the stomach and hoping I don't die of my brain pickling. And would my insurance cover that.

Then Ricardo said, why don't you just go back in the house.

Jesus. I think I already have rabies if I couldn't figure that one out.