Exercise

I apologize for my lack of posting. I've been very busy. I have a job now and occasionally they schedule me for eleven hour shifts. Occasionally as in two or three times a week. Which leaves me not wanting to do anything else.

At least on the less than busy days, I have time to work on my hair or read or whatever. So it isn't so bad. Cept the busy days.

My favorite place so far is in the pit. You only have two jobs: drain the oil and change the filter. It's dirty and hot, but more satisfying. I just hope the bra I like isn't stained forever. I finally got to Wal-Mart to buy a black bra and some black tank tops to wear under my work shirts. Which I just got this week. Oh yeah, I look cool.

So I've been busy. And it's really hard to find motivation to make supper, clean house, or do anything relatively productive if you've been at work since eight and just get back at like seven-thirty. And since we've got a heat wave going on, it's hard to feel motivated to do anything that would make me continue to be hot and sweaty.

I am attempting to exercise now. The plan David and I are using is P90X. I am not really a fan of the diet, and the workouts are pretty intense, although I do have a hard time believing in any program that doesn't make my out-of-shape self suffer. Basically, P90X makes me want to collapse on the floor and cry like a baby.

My favorite routine so far is Kenpo X, as it seems very much like Tae Kwon Do. And while I hate exercise, doing exercise-like things that have a purpose is fun. Like boxing, dancing, Tae Kwon Do, sports and so on.
So Kenpo X is pretty decent. The worst one is the one with push-ups. I hate push-ups.

Otherwise, P90X seems serious and that's cool. Not a wimpy routine you pull out of a magazine or what not. I started doing it with David and his friend Shane, but because of vacations and the like, I've felt like I hadn't really followed the program, so I'm trying to restart, and this time I'm doing the lean version.

Some of the girls in the videos are solid and buff. I don't really want to be buff or really muscular, I want to look toned and fit. So lean for me.

I like the idea of working out and I like having worked out recently, but I hate actually doing it. But I really do want to be fit.

Except on the days I work eleven hours.

Warning: Nerd

So this post is going to be nerdy/geeky (depending on definition). Basically, I will be talking about a computer game. Because I am ecstatic about it.

Let's start from the beginning. My three favorite computer games are World of Warcraft, Dragon Age series, and Sims 3.

World of Warcraft is a long-time friend and a role-playing game, meaning I can create characters and then control them and make them betting in a world that I've seriously lived in longer than any one house/apartment/dorm. I can be a nostalgic nerd.

The Dragon Age series (I and II) has been amazing so far. The cool thing about Dragon Age is that they have managed to create a story, like a story you'd read a book about in the fantasy genre. But since this is a computer game, you get to be in and control the story. You can create your own character and depending on what race or class (warrior, rogue, mage) you are, your story changes. That's what first drew me in. David was playing a dwarf noble rogue and said that the intro stories were different for different races or classes. So I started playing an elf mage and my experience was different than his. And based on different choices you make in game, you can romance different people, have different outcomes, allies, and endings. I love it because it gives me an aspect I've always wanted, and that is of being able to be inside a book. Since I was a little girl, I've always imagined myself in my favorite stories... and this lets me experience it in some small way. Not to mention they are good story-tellers and make you make hard choices that don't have a right answer.

And then there is Sims 3. Sims 3 is a game where you create people, make families, and then set them in a world. They can go get jobs, get married, pro-create, make money, buy bigger houses and more stuff... It plays rather like a soap opera. On the interest ranking, it is far below the other two games I've listed... but I don't have a problem making up stories for my Sims. It still runs rather like a soap-opera, but I've had fun, even though there isn't combat and very little magic.

Which is where this post comes in. They are coming out with a new expansion pack for Sims 3. And it has werewolves. EEEEEEEeeeee!

It is called Sims 3 Supernatural and it has updated vampires (they were added in an earlier expansion pack), werewolves, fairies, and witches. And I am going to have grand fun playing out my urban fantasy... fantasies.

Politics of Relationships

I am starting to get this bizarre sense that people view David and my relationship differently than we do.

You know how you can get a feeling about some relationships, the idea about who is in control, who makes the decisions, and who wears the pants. Now, I don't know what it says about me, or says about David, but generally, people seem to assume I'm the boss.

I'm not really sure where they get that idea. Is it because I am opinionated? Have a forceful personality? Or David is easy-going and laid-back? But I have encountered things like this before, and I have three specific examples that I can name. Probably more that haven't been said.

First one stems from when we were dating. Sorry, but I am going to engage in a little geek speak here, for the example is from World of Warcraft. David and I were part of a guild, and through an unthought-out series of events, we decided to move with several other guild members to a new and different guild. I asked David what he wanted to do and told him I would only do it if he did. I was nervous about leaving, but followed his lead. Later, I logged on to a different character that was still in the old guild, but most people didn't know it was me. And they were talking about all the people who left in guild chat. One person said they thought Darane (me) would be the type to just up and leave. "I bet Darane wanted to go and dragged Strongtower (David) with her."

Um, no, that's not how it went. Course if I spoke up in my own defense, that'd blow my cover.

More recently, when I got dreadlocks. My mother was vastly uncomfortable with the whole situation, so we discussed it and why I did it when she came up for a bike ride. But the thing that helped her the most was when she talked to David and found out he liked my dreads and didn't mind that I had them.

"I wouldn't have gotten them if he hadn't supported me in getting them," I told her. Goodness knows, I had few enough supporters. And him being the one to have to look at me, I needed his support if I was to continue. Mom said she was worried because she thought it was an idea I had just gotten in my head and wouldn't listen to anyone and dragged David right along with me. Makes me wonder what I did in the past to have that be the first assumption people have of me.

And then today. We were walking along a nature walk/hike and one of my in-laws asks me, "how'd you get David to start working out?" Um, I had nothing to do with that. He just wanted to start and I said it'd be cool if he had a six pack. I actually didn't want him to work out on vacation cause I wasn't going to. But I've tried to get him to work out in the past, and to no avail.

So what exactly spawned all this? Do people not really know us? They seem to have no idea about David's stubborn streak that I can't touch, or that I do a lot of things on my own because he turned them down. When it comes to our interaction, David is very easy-going. I will admit he does a lot of things because I'd like to do them, or he wants to do them with me. But he already has to want to do them to some extent. He can sometimes be convinced to go biking with me or to the frozen yogurt place, but that's because he already kind of wants to bike or kind of wants to eat frozen yogurt. If I say, wanted to go swimming, there is a good chance I'm going on my own because he has to be in a mood to swim and there is nothing I can say that would convince him.

Also, he can be very, highly stubborn about random things. And regardless of what I say, I can't budge him. I know there are times I won't win the war, so I just let him be.

Also, he knows I am perfectly capable of having fun on my own, so when he refuses, he knows that doesn't mean I won't go or will be really upset. As a result, we tend to be a fairly independant couple, where both of us are able to do separate activities and still enjoy ourselves.

But when it comes to actual decisions, one of us will propose the decision, then we both will discuss it and come to a conclusion. And honestly, I tend to be the flexible party, stating my doubts or position, but letting him make the choice. Because I feel that is sort of his job.

And there is my essay on why I'm not a tyrant.

Bike Pathing

Recently, I have been noticing a large number of icons painted on the streets of West Des Moines. Not graffiti, but official designations of a sort. West Des Moines and the surrounding towns/suburbs/whatever they are have a large number of bike paths. You can get pretty much anywhere in West Des Moines by mostly bike path. Maybe not the most efficient way, but I prefer bike paths because most of them are paved and smooth like roads, but with no cars on them. Not that there is not traffic, I have to dodge many a jogger, walker, pet walker, and other bikers, but at least no cars running me over.

I know West Des Moines is working on increasing the number of bike trails available. They recently put up a bunch of sign posts point to different trails at various trailheads and intersections. But now, I think they are getting a little ahead of themselves in their biker enthusiasm. Here is the symbol I've seen painted on many a street.


















And that shadow is me! Hi everyone!

Anyway, this is just your basic street. Two way, no cool enough for lines in the middle, basic street. And now it has bike path things painted on it and signs along the side designating it a bike path.

No. Just no. This is not a bike path. This is still a street. Painting a bike on it isn't going to keep the cars off our butts or keep us from interfering with traffic. I never bike on the street if I can avoid it, as I hate cars trailing and passing me. I think it is dangerous. And now they think they can just designate a bike path! Like that changes anything!

Unless, of course, when you bike over the arrows, you get a speed boost. Then it's all cool.

Aspiriations

First off, I apologize for this post. I went to work for a half-day, it was hot outside on the way back, and what do you know, but I have Woodchucks hard cider in the refrigerator. So now I have 12 ounces of that at 5% alcohol in my bloodstream and haven't eaten lunch... follow along and do the math! Or let the nearest cop do it! I bet they can do it in their heads.

But the thing you should take from that isn't the strange feeling of my brain trying to float out of my skull, but the fact that now I have a job! Buying the hard cider was in celebration. I just picked up a position at Valvoline Instant Oil Change.

A step up from food service? In my opinion. A good job? In my opinion. I get that it is still an entry level job, but it isn't food service... and I like the idea of doing oil change. It's mechanical in nature and I like things like that. I've always been interested in putting things together and fixing stuff, but I wanted to be unique and my little brother is now a helicopter mechanic out with the Marines in Afghanistan... so if anyone in the family was the fix-it person, it was him. And, you know, I'm a girl.

But that aside, they pay better starting than what I ended at Panera, they have seven holidays to Panera's two, they are closed Sundays (the one I'm at is), and they seem a lot nicer and a lot more chill. I was at work only a half day today, but it felt like I was hanging out. Even with cars to work on, it didn't feel that much like actual work.

Oh, I know it's all new and shiny (or dirty with engine grime, as the case may be), but it still seems like it would be better, even after the 100th or 1000th car. Better than asking 300 people a day if they want a drink with their meal. I know it gets busier, but I've been in busy situations and you just have to take it a step a time.

I think I could do this. And maybe in a year or so, if I don't still love it, I'll find something else to learn. But I like where I'm at right now.

My adopted grandfather-in-law said something along the lines of, "that seems a strange sort of thing for a girl to do. But we heard you liked that."

"I'm a strange sort of person," I replied.

I'm living my Mercy Thompson (urban fantasy, Patricia Briggs, my favorite) fantasy. I have oil under my boy-short nails.

I've also always been a bit of a boy, in some things. I don't wear makeup, but I get proud when I get oil under my nails, blisters, and make my knuckles bruise and bleed from boxing. This might be just the place for me.

Linsey's Plant Manifesto

Forgive me father, for I have sinned. I have taken many lives today. But with God's help, I will not use a weed-whacker again.

I don't like weed-whacking, even if all the lives taken were of green matter so low, that my mother-in-law won't even deign to call them "plants." Apparently, that special title is reserved for the green things that are wanted.

Poor little non-plants.

Anyway, a death sentence hangs over all non-plant vegetable matter in my mother-in-law's garden and yard, especially the ones next to trees and buildings and the like that cannot be mowed. Sneaky little usurpers. It's that sort of anarchic behavior that calls for a brand new bright orange weed-whacker.

Ok, so I don't feel the same way. I like some long grass around trees, I think it looks nice. Kind of like how I think hair in strict ponytails looks better with a few tendrils escaping on the sides. I've always had a more chaotic preference when it comes to lawns. Whenever someone says their lawn needs to be mowed, I look at it and think it looks nice the way it is. But this isn't my lawn, so it doesn't matter. It is Michelle's, and she can have her lawn the way she wants it.

Expect, I was working for her. And David had the more manly job of chopping down a tree that I will have to hold a funeral for later (it looked plenty alive to me!). Armed with a very noisy bright orange death bringer, I set out to force order upon the lawn. The lawn that looked as though it needed to be mowed again (not my standard) even though I just mowed it three days ago!

But back to forcing order. In the beginning, I was just doing a job. It was clearing debris, snipping hair, or some other task of making things look neat. But the loss of plant life was taking it's toll. About the time I had to whack a group of perfectly innocent purple flowers at the base of one tree, I was sorry. My conscious was laden with the innocent grass-like things adorning the bases of trees. But I had a job to do, and I pressed on.

After that, I needed conditioning. I couldn't just keep killing and remain the same. So I got angry at the plants. Why were they making me kill them? Didn't they know better? Didn't they ever consider that under the trees was a bad spot? Stupid poor dying non-plant things.

Finally, I thought I had hit every tree on the lawn. Personally, if I had that many trees, I'd let them keep their plant adornments. And supposedly Michelle is the only person at that residence that does weed-whack around the trees. The kids just do the fence in the front yard.

So I put the death-thing away and went on to the other tasks. We rounded the shed to hook an ill-fated auger to the tractor, and Michelle pointed out some knee-high plant life in an area behind the shed and the horse yard, rife with junk and other not-junk stuff that was sitting in the way. "That will need to be weed-whacked too," she said.

"It's David's turn," I replied. My hands were still vibrating in their gloves. And I think whacking that portion that isn't even lawn yet is superfluous. You should know David probably won't do it, either, but he is her son and can get away with just being stubborn. He wasn't even going to cover the trees.

I also spend some time weeding Michelle's garden of various non-plant plant-resembling things. And I've decided something. If I ever put effort into a garden, the effort is going to go into specifically designing it to exist with minimal effort. And maybe I like some of those weeds.

All this to say, I would suck in the army. I can barely kill plants.

Horse is a Horse

I'm sorry but I really had nothing to say! Not a thing! That's what I get for posting all my book reviews on Goodreads now. I'm coming to realize I like action/adventure books with a budding romance and maybe some mystery. I should just surrender to the young adult genre.

But that's not what I wanted to talk about.

I wanted to talk about horses! Don't all little girls love horses? Want a pony for Christmas? Frolic about pretending to be one?

Well, while I did like horses (and pretended to be one, frequently. I was an imaginative child.), I never actually wanted one. I think even as a child, I had an idea about how much they pooped. And I lived in an apartment...

But, I do know one girl who is living the horsey dream, as she is fourteen and has not one, but TWO horses. She is my sister-in-law, Emily Gravlin.

That is Emily and one of her horses named (deep breath) Folly Bug Sue Can Do. Not kidding. Apparently horses like carrying around their sire's name, and I think that's one of those words there. And horse naming is just ridiculous. Emily's other horse has the much more sensible name of Twigs. Course, she isn't horse royalty, like this one here. Sue here has a pretty good bloodline and is also a trained barrel horse. Which is why Emily is in the location pictured.

The location pictured is an indoor arena somewhere on the Iowa State Fairgrounds hosting a fancy-pants horse event. I say that because it is nothing like a rodeo and has mostly highly boring English riding events, with the rodeo-style barrels and poles tacked on to the end as "speed-events."

Here's how I would choose between styles, if someone was offering to teach me one: Which has the coolest hat? And that is Western, hands down. Cowboy hats vs black velvety helmets. Then look at the rest of the outfit. Button-up vs standard high-neck navy blue jacket. Jeans vs tan leggings. Cowboy boots vs knee-high black boots. Well, actually I think their boots were the only thing not bad about their outfit, but still can't beat cowboy boots.

Not to mention, I like the pommel of the saddle. Like an emergency handle.

Now, rodeo vs fancy-pants horse event. If you've even been to a rodeo, you know they are conducted loudly, with blaring pop music, rodeo clowns, and large crowds of cheering country people in blue jeans, cowboys hats, and strangely stylish bling tops on the girls.

This event had under thirty people watching and was conducted in almost complete silence. And most of the English events (that I saw) consisted of like four to seven girls in the same blue coats and tan leggings walking, trotting, and cantering around the ring.

Hey, the snack bar sells strawberry daiquiris!

Rodeos have crazy events that involve lots of speed and danger. I saw a guy break his leg while riding a bull.
Crazy bucking broncs and bulls, roping cows, racing... yeah.

Not like I'm really comfortable with either. All my hours of pretending to be a horse did not unlock horse whispering or any sort of higher understanding for those creatures. Riding them is like riding a bike with attitude. But I find horse events fun because it's like looking into someone else's world, a blast from the past that had cowboys. I'm a city kid, and rodeos are distinctly country. But hey, always fun. And Em might give me the beads from her broken cowboy hat strings... cool stuff for my hair!