Dear Neighbor

So a couple of weeks ago, I came home and found this note from my neighbor. Apparently my hardcore workouts was causing a lot of distress to the poor dude. I feel sad about this because I truly hadn't meant to upset him and honestly, I had been wondering if the 30 minutes of jumping around early in the morning was heard by anyone in my Bat's Motel of a home.

I am doing this Tracy Anderson workout. It is 30 minutes of cardio and 30 minutes of strength and weight training. When I began it, I ended up with shin splints, because she lit-trally jumps around for 30 minutes. Notice, that I said SHE jumps around for that amount of time. I jump some, power walk some, and sob for the rest.

The strength training is killer but I do think effective. I have muscles in my legs and arms that I did not have before. I am excited about this muscle development. Especially since for some of the training moves, I just look at her like she is mentally deranged. Her doing these moves for an inordinate amount of reps shows me that it is possible for some human to move their body that way for that amount of time, but I am not there yet.

However, seeing muscles develop and my clothes fit better is keeping me motivated, kind of. I have a long, long way to go. My fitness goals include the ownership of fewer pounds and an actual butt. I mean, I have a butt. I can sit, but I don't have a butt of any mention. And with my jeans being ill-fitting, I feel like it just draws more attention to the lack. I am looking forward to having clothes that fit my body. I am looking forward to feeling proud of the corpus machine I built, instead of feeling like I need to hide it or be ashamed of it. I know that as much as the reshaping of my person will be a process, so will be the alteration of my attitude towards my self.

I want to love and respect my body. Even at this current time, though it is still so far from what I wish it looked like, because this body bears the scars and stories of my whole life. And it is the vessel that has carried me this far, to the cusp of my truly figuring out who I am and what I want. But it is hard to have such adoration when my tights are rolling down under my belly and I am yanking on my clothes to cover the rolls of my vessel.

I am working on me. But I digress.

The thing is, I NEVER hear anyone in my building. I mean, occasionally, I hear the music coming out of someone's apartment as I make my way up the steps to my own home. Or on occasion, while I am having the BEAUTY TRANSFORMATION in the bathroom, I hear someone gagging themself during toothbrushing times, but otherwise, nothing. I had hoped that my "aerobic" activity was just as non-intrusive.

Such was not the case.

The note is nice enough and I have been working hard to accommodate his request. The toughest part is that I prefer working out in the morning to the evenings. After being at work all day, I do not care for coming home and working out, but my desire to weigh less and have a stronger body is greater than my dislike of post-employment sweatings.

Losing weight is a real challenge. I feel like every day I am struggling with to eat or not to eat something. I hope that if I can lose more weight, the choices to exercise and eat better will become easier. And! Two weeks ago, I had lunch with friends and they said they could tell that I had lost some pounds. That is the first time that has happened since I began the great body metamorphosis in June.

I still have a long way to go and with my neighbor's request, the transition will have to take place with less resonating repetitive noises. That's cool though. I am all about stealth.

Dear Politically Correct

Shouldn't it be multi-pulped paper? We're still so far behind, world. So. Far. Behind.

Dear Comments

Hey.

So I have unlocked whatever was formerly locked so you may comment if so ever you wish to. I would like to hear from you!

Free your mind and the rest will follow!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i7iQbBbMAFE&ob=av2e

Dear Remington Steele

I watched part of that Disney movie Oceans the other night.

I am not what one would call a nature lover. I am barely a nature acknowledger, frankly. And anything about nature that I do like is because of something else. For example, I like purple flowers because of the line from The Color Purple that goes, "I think it pisses God off if you walk past the color purple without noticing." Weeping willows are my favorite kinds of tress, mostly because that is their name. I enjoy the sunshine because it affords me the opportunity to wear sweet pairs of sunglasses.

But I know that earth, the animals, flora and fauna, are all incredible and beyond my comprehension in their capability and beauty.

I am allergic to life and so I often use that as my excuse as to hating outside, but lots of humans are allergy-ridden and they just drug themselves up and head outdoors. I drug myself up and take a nap.

Remember how people used to email each other? Remember how some of those emails would be all, "fill out this 14-page questionnaire about me so I can feel that we aren't as close as I thought because I would never respond to some of these questions with the answers that you provided?" Once, my sister gave an answer that was spot on. The question was: what is this person's (in my case, me, Sherry) favorite thing to do outside? My sister wrote: go back inside. No greater truth has ever been spoken. Well, there has, but in relation to me and what lies beyond the four walls of my domicile, this was all kinds of mad truth, homey. (Homie? I think it should be homey. Whatever.)

Lately, though, I have been feeling like I want to understand nature better. Not because I desire to be a part of it, but because I want a better understanding of the person behind it all. I know that everyone believes in evolution and that if you think God made all of the things that makes you a religious fanatic who rejects science and thinks the whole, 'earth is flat' idea had promise, and won't read anything but the bible, and refuses music and spirits. But honestly? That's not my gig. I love me some books and some spirits and I think God made the earth and all of the nature times. My strongest reason to believe it is because I have yet to come across anything that wasn't made by someone. Why would earth be different?

Usually, when you love a song or a book or a movie, your curiosity about the person who wrote it or starred in it grows. I don't love outside - except for maybe, stars - yet I do have a feeling of wanting to know better who is behind all of the stuff. So I am trying to support knowing about earth and what not.

So I watched a portion of this Disney movie, Oceans. I am a novice after all, so I didn't want to jump all in National Geographic style and give up too quickly. Also, the movie would be narrated by Pierce Brosnan! He was James Bond and before that, he was Remington Steele! And I loved him. Also he was in that surprisingly good movie, Ghost Writer. All of these eggs appeared sunny-side up.

Lots of my ideas are wrong.

First, I had to spend 10 minutes just getting to the menu to start the DVD because Disney is the birth mother of roughly 7, 342 ads, theme parks, trailers, and Blu-Ray propaganda pieces. Second, after 25 minutes of what was, in truth, gorgeous shots of the wonders of ocean life, I had learned, like, nothing. Lit-trally only one thing did I learn: whales sleep upside down. The shot of that was astounding and made me think, that is a lot of blood to have rush to your head. Other than that, nada.

The movie continued for another hour, but I gave up. I was tired and Pierce's talking of nothing started to grate. I don't know how the movie ends but I am pretty sure there are still oceans. And the 60th anniversary edition of Lady and the Tramp will be released on Blu-Ray for a limited time in 2012.

I am not giving up on my quest to understand the earth. I just think I should maybe try, like a book, or something.

Dear Cough Due to Cold

So guess who is sick again? You are correct if you guessed me. Maybe you are sick, too. If so, you have my sympathies.

I appear to just have another cold. I am the queen of congestion times. I went to the doctor who diagnosed me as "unlucky." She says I just keep catching different things. She said there was fluid behind my ear. She asked if my ear hurt. It did not. My chest and back hurt from the coughing but my airways were clear.

I am very super happy I spent all of that time waiting at the urgent care.

Also, if you are ever feeling unattractive, you should visit the urgent care waiting room. People look horrible while they are waiting for the doctor. One man kept falling asleep and snoring. One woman was wearing a short skirt and no leg coverings. In December. When the rest of the people were in layers because it was 20 degrees out. It's odd that she was not feeling well. 

One of my most beloved movies is Mary Poppins. Some amazing person uploaded the movie to the You Tube. Due to things about technology which I do not understand, the movie is uploaded in 10 different parts for roughly 14 minutes each. I still watched it. I adore that movie. At 2:02 of this clip, there is a cow singing. My voice currently sounds like that of the cow. Watch this to hear it:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7tnre7rronM&feature=related.

Finally, why is Katie Perry hosting Saturday Night Live? And why am I still awake?

Dear Germs

I have been sick for, like, the entire month of November. It blows; pun intended.

I cannot believe how both amazing and disgusting the human body truly is.

The only thing I really like about being sick is that I usually get a sore throat and then I have raspy voice, which I love. My normal voice has zero rasp. Some raspy voice would be fun, particularly when doing regular things like ordering coffee or telling the terrible students that they can use the stapler. Having a great sultry voice at that time is pointless and absurd and so therefore would be super fun. Alas, I have no rasp except for illness times. Which is kind of a waste, since I am in isolation due to the abundance of germs, so no one really gets to appreciate my raspy voice.

Also my back hurts from coughing. A cough due to cold is exhausting. I am surprised that my body remains ill after all this time. I am usually not so sick for so long. It is not preferred.

What has been enjoyed, though, is free movie times on the cable. Boy, Hollywood, have you been busy. So much to see and so much that I have missed. Sometimes, when I watch a really great movie, I think, I would enjoy writing a movie script. Making up dialogues that are witty and wise would be fun. My problem with such a task is that I am no good at describing surroundings and appearances. I would be the worst eyewitness, ever. 

Today when I went to purchase additional tissue because of the afromentioned illness, I realized how little I look at people. I don't look at myself all that much, either, but, I do need to be more present, as the self-aware would say. I think that would help me in times of distress. All I have in the moment is the moment. Which at this moment is a cold. Time for tea and more movies.

I know this post is lame, but it's been like six weeks. A sister is rusty...not raspy.

Dear Pointless

Earlier I received some news that lit-trally (said like the Rob Lowe character from Parks and Rec) made me shake my fist at the ceiling from frustration times. Whilst I was doing it, I thought of that part in Stranger Than Fiction, where Will Ferrell is yelling at the sky and the voice over says, "shouting at the heavens in futility." And he replies, "No, I'm not you stupid voice! I'm shouting at  you!" But really, it was futile. Just like my fist shaking. It didn't change the present or the past. In the long-run, the perceived injustice will not matter and maybe even one day I will become the sort of emotionally-evolved, self-possessed person who can honesty say they do not care.

This was not that day. It still isn't. I would still be shaking my fist except that I am too tired to do so.

Sometimes all you are left with is a great line from a movie.

me