Tag Archives: drinking

MOTHER OF CHRIST MY ARMS!!!

I attended one of Gerald’s three-hour bootcamps on Saturday, for the first time in months.  So much fun, but holy mother of crap on a hockey stick my arms hurt.  I really got familiar with weights for the first time, this is the reason for my lovely pain.  We did a lot of weight-lifting “to failure”, which just means you keep lifting the weights until you can’t possibly lift them anymore.  Then other things, like doing sit-ups while holding a 20-lb weight above your head.  Now, I can pound out sit-ups like a champ, but ohmygod they are hard with the weight up there.  Go try it, I’ll wait.  I was tired by 12, and we had to do 50.  I was worried about dropping the weight and breaking my glasses, but then I was kind of, like, oh yeah, my face is right under my glasses.  Don’t smash my face, that’s my money-maker!

We also ran some laps around the Dal track, and I have no idea how far it is but I got almost all the way around four times (with craziness on the steps in between) before I had to switch to walking for a minute.  I figure that’s not too terrible considering I haven’t run since the last bootcamp.

Later that night, went out for drinks with kickboxers/bootcampers/fun people.  It was a Goodbye Maggie thing, as Maggie is leaving and won’t be punching me in the stomach anymore.  I discovered that ginger beer is an awesome mix, because you can’t taste anything over the power of ginger beer.  I also learned that, if you drink with Gerald, there is a good chance he will dare you to do pushups on the dance floor.  And, being as I’m me, there’s also a good chance I’ll do it!  Oh, there are pictures.  Maggie and I did it together, and in our defense, no one was dancing at the time.

Yoga was really interesting this morning.  Apparently, in addition to hips, another place I’m weirdly flexible is shoulders, so that was fun to learn.  Also annoying, because I was trying to stretch my damn shoulders and my stupid face was getting in the way.  My stupid, stupid face.  Anyway, where was I?  Oh yes!  We’re doing a 40-day yoga thingy, now.  We each pick a particular yoga position, preferable something we’re crap at, and do it every day for 40 days.  So, at home, we take out our mats and do the position, throw in a sun salutation, and the idea is that if you already have the mat out you’ll do some more positions because it’s there and yoga goddamned rules is what it does.  I picked tree pose, because it’s a balance pose and it’s become increasingly clear to me that I probably need three legs, my balance is so terrible.

My mother is away to exotic locales, and she’s left her cat and her car with me, which is very exciting.  The cat was pretty displeased with the arrangement yesterday, alternately hiding under my bed or wedged behind my stove somehow.  He’s calmed down now, though!  I swear to God, purring occurred.  Now to get used to have cat hairs wedged into every crevasse, ah, I had forgotten that irritation.  The car is exciting, though I haven’t used it much.  I hate parking!  Parking in Halifax is a pain in so much of my butt, seriously.  So, yeah, I could drive forever, I just never want to stop, is pretty much my problem.

Advertisements

4 Comments

Filed under bootcamp, exercise, family, shenanigans, yoga

Banana Superman!

So many shenanigans this week, I barely know where to start.  Sex Toy Bingo with classmates on Wednesday night.  This is, playing bingo for sex toys, and instead of shouting out “bingo” you shout out some sex term that the bar agreed on beforehand.  Basically it gave us disturbing insight into what some people consider to be sex terms.  Anyway, I didn’t win anything, alas.  I never win bingo.  Of course, I never go to normal bingo.  I’ve gone to this and Trailer Park Bingo, that’s pretty much it, ever.  I like it when I don’t have to pay for the cards, and also I can be drunk if I want.

Oh man, this was not the classiest bar, and I asked Steph to get me some white wine.  Apparently this was the exchange at the bar.

Steph: Can I get some white wine?
Bartender: White… wine?
Steph: …yeah.
Bartender: Um… Wha… *asks boss* Do we have white… wine?

So, yeah, in the end I did not get wine.

Thursday was St. Patrick’s Day!  This apparently translated into morning drinkin’ with Steph and various other Newfoundlanders.  I’m pretty sure Paddy’s Day is the one day of the year that getting drunk in the morning is socially acceptable, so it’s cool to blog about it.  Anyway, we were to Durty Nellie’s and had an enormous breakfast that was probably as authentically Irish as you can get without beans.  I drank wine, because I am a complete lameass.  The Newfoundlanders were explaining to some Navy guys at one point that I count as cool because I’m from rural Nova Scotia, but I was sitting there with glass of chardonnay, so I don’t think I was really selling it.

Oh yeah, by the end of the morning I was done drinking, as wine goes faster than Guinness.  So this is apparently my idea of appropriate ordering in a bar:

Steph: Guinness.
Shawn: Coffee.
Shannon: Cheesecaaaaaake!

The bad thing about morning drinking is the afternoon hangover.  And I had kickboxing to do!  Oh my.  I skipped a couple of classes this week because of homework, and I was not skipping Thursday’s, hangover or not.  Ah, it wasn’t too bad.  We were doing this thing where we fling ourselves out of the way of a punch, which we do a lot (called a ‘slip’), but this time practicing doing it really fast, with the idea of punching our opponents before they were finished punching us.  I was sucking hard at it, but last night we did it again and I was much improved.  Hurrah!

Holy crap, holy crap, last night’s kickboxing involved what might be the funniest exercise I ever have seen.  It’s called something like the Superman/Banana.  You start out on your stomach, and you raise your arms and legs just barely off the ground.  Hold for five.  Then you roll onto your left side without using your limbs, still keeping your arms and legs bowed up off the ground.  Hold for five.  Roll over onto your back, arms up above your head, barely off the ground, legs barely off the ground.  Hold for five.  Then onto your right side, do the same thing.  Then you roll all the way back, the same way you came!  An entire roomful of people doing this is a thing that I’m pretty sure needs to be filmed.

After last night’s class, I got a bit of extra grappling practice.  Gerald helped me out with some takedowns, because I am complete shit at takedowns and I was whining about it.  Seriously, in rolling I pretty much just wait for the other person to take me down so I can do ground stuff.  Not good form at all, Shannon.

Today involved a trip to the Dartmouth Farmer’s Market.  In a related story, I finally got to eat one of those Two If By Sea croissants.  Holy crap, enormous and delicious.  I’d just had lunch, but I was ridiculously determined to eat to entire chocolate croissant immediately, because I figured that a half-eaten, cold croissant wouldn’t be as nice four hours later.  I will never be proven wrong, either.  Because I will never leave one of those croissants half-eaten.  My logical systems are goddamned perfect, is what they are.

Leave a comment

Filed under exercise, fucking inanity, grappling, kickboxing, shenanigans

Burrito Virgin!

Had a Burritos-and-Twilight Night with some of the kickboxing gals the other night.  Delightful!  Despite my attempts to keep my cool, I was revealed to be a burrito virgin.  I don’t know how I got so far in life without eating a burrito, I guess any time I was at a Mexican restaurant I just went with tacos.  It’s all essentially the same ingredients, whatever!  Not my fault I stuffed too much burrito stuff into my burrito.  Woe, shame!  Delicious shame.  Then we watched the third Twilight movie, and I’d never seen the first two (apparently also a Twilight virgin), so I had the movies retold to me by hilarious friends over wine, which I’m almost certain is more fun than watching the actual movies.  The third movie gave me this impression.  OK, there was one scene I sincerely, unironically enjoyed, the rest just involved yelling at the screen.

I got crappy news today!  My grappling tournament that was supposed to happen tomorrow isn’t happening at all!  Man, I had my shifts all switched, I told everyone I was competing, I’m so annoyed.  What happened is, there are only so many grappling ladies in the region, and all of them wound up pulling out of the competition at the last minute except my team.  So I would’ve driven for hours to get to Moncton, paid $60 to enter, and just fought the ladies from my own club.  Crappity.  On the bright side, there’s going to be another tournament, in Truro on the 19th!  It’s way better organized than this one, way closer, and my family can watch if they want.  Probably a better ‘first tournament’ than the one tomorrow, anyway (it was kind of sketchy).

I skipped kickboxing last night, to finish up an assignment (successfully, might I add).  And also today, because we had an auxiliary grappling class that was supposed to be for sprucing up for the tournament but instead turned into a much-needed bitch session (so good for the soul).  I am not doing well this week, only one kickboxing class and yoga.  No wonder I’m so sleepy!  I need to do some jumping jacks or something… but that… entails… standing…

Now I need some Whatever Policies!  Hmm… I’ve almost entirely abandoned my ‘only get groceries on Tuesdays’ policy.  Well, I’ve actually sort of inverted it, because it seems I get groceries on every day except Tuesdays.  I apparently really don’t want that 10% student discount or something, because I am doing everything in my power to avoid it.  What am I going to do with an extra $4.37, anyway?  Probably use it to get into trouble, is what.  No, I think it’s better if the Superstore takes it, they’ll use it better.  That’s my policy: Superstore spends money better than me, just let them have it.

Leave a comment

Filed under fucking inanity, grappling, kickboxing, shenanigans, Whatever Policies

Hungover Somersaults!

Wow, it’s apparently been a really busy week, because I haven’t updated since my last quiet Sunday shift.  How time flies!  Anyway, grappling today was super-awesome, made slightly less super-awesome by my teeny-weeny hangover.  I seriously would not even have noticed it, except we were doing goddamned combat somersaults again.  We barely ever do those, why do they always happen on the days after parties?  I somersaulted like a champ for a while, but once we got to monkey-style (that really just the normal kind, which is the most dizzy-making, as it turns out, I’m now a somersault connoisseur), I had to stop halfway through.  Just… just not worth the risk.

We ran out of time and the end, so no rolling today.  But Jodie and I did get to slam each other into the mat a whole bunch, and in the end, isn’t that what matters?  I learned how to do a two leg take-down!  We also did an exercise called The Panther, which sounds really elegant and regal but when I do it just looks like crap.  I like it anyway, because you sort of look like Spiderman climbing a wall.

Last night was a lovely party with lovely party people.  At some point there may be a photo of me chugging wine straight out of the bottle.  Please let it be known, this was for photo-op purposes only, I delicately sip my wine from the bottle like a lady.  Other party shenanigans involved me at one point doing stomach crunches while eating potato chips.  I also “learned” to play Settlers of Catan, by which I mean, I learned I am awesome at rolling dice, seriously, it is a gift.  Also at some point I think I agreed to play water polo and submit an article to DJIM.

Night before that, out with kickboxers to say goodbye to Phil, who is leaving forever a few months to go to Mars England.  These were different kickboxers than I’ve gone out with before, and it was just delightful.  We went out right after kickboxing class, too, but at least with time to shower and change because I don’t really bring a change of clothes with me.  The class was fun.  We were doing, like, 100 jabs, 100 crosses, 100 uppercuts, 100 hooks.  Gerald teased me about taking the ‘aerobics’ approach at first, and made me stop and punch like a fighter.

I had my second and, sniff, last Bollywood dance class on Thursday.  Yeah, I was the only one to show up, not really the basis of a sustainable class.  Dammit!  There’s a flamenco class at the same time, I might go to that based on the sound principle of ‘why the fuck not?’  The last class was fun, anyway.  It was like a private lesson with Monique!  And then I raided her playlist, because she has the best music!

And before that, classes!  Like, school classes, my first full week.  I managed to already do one presentation, because I am a boring keener.  The Business Intelligence class involves reading business news and talking about it in class 2-3 times in the term, which will almost certainly get me reading business news like a crazy person and bringing it up every week, because if there’s one thing I can do, it’s read the goddamned news like a competition.  For reals, it’s like a ploy designed specifically to get me to read business news, only Shannon.  My online class, Records Management, looks like it’ll be taking place in a classroom, where everyone chats online with the prof while she talks into a headset.  The kinks are getting ironed out, is what I’m saying.  I honestly kind of prefer classrooms, anyway, so whatever, brightside.

Now, I am at work.  I went to throw out some trash, and they appear to have moved my trashcan.  Seriously, where the hell is my poubelle?  Also, I don’t know who that “they” is, I just know my trashcan didn’t move itself.  This isn’t Beauty and the Beast.  Or is it?

Leave a comment

Filed under dancing, exercise, grappling, kickboxing, school, shenanigans, work

New Year!

New Year’s Eve was awesome, of course.  It was Katherine and I vs. wine, and we prevailed!  We drank wine, we drank all the wine.  Ah, but the wine wreaks bitter revenge today.  Katherine figures I should live in Ottawa, because I need her good influence.  I think I should live there because Katherine needs my specific influence.  Not bad influence, just my influence in general.  The whole world needs my influence!  I need to start my own magazine, I think.  Or religion?  That could be a resolution: become cult leader.  (This is why I need Katherine’s influence, incidentally.  She so consistently curbs my cult leader aspirations.)

On the topic of resolutions, I have none.  I’m pretty good at being consistently goddamned fabulous, let’s not risk fucking up perfection.  Katherine and I determined that, in the New Year, we’re both going to be healthier, but that’s not so much a resolution as an undeniable statement of fact.  Late December has been so full of chocolate, wine and ass-sitting, it would be utterly impossible to be less healthy.  Gerald is doing some week-end mini-bootcamps this month, I think I might go for it.  But I can’t think about it too hard right now, the hangover won’t allow it.

You will be not shocked in the least to learn I’m irritatingly peppy while hungover.  I’d like to thank Katherine for not stabbing me in the neck at any point this morning while I insisted on headbopping to 80’s music and chasing her dog, because terrible pain is no reason to sit still and be quiet, that would be just ludicrous.

This morning, in two completely independent conversations, through no maneuvering of my own, I wound up talking about the difference between Jimmy Buffett and Warren Buffett.  I just found that mind-blowing, and I’m making you read it like it’s interesting to people other than me.  Anyway, I swear to Christ, when I was a teenager I found a clothes store online with Hawaiian-print dresses run by Jimmy Buffett, and no-one believes me and it no longer exists.  It’s the phantom Jimmy Buffett Hawaiian dress store!  That haunts my addled brain!  I’m not crazy!

Because we are mired in the cold and terrible winter months, and my legs are weirdly immune to cold, I’ve been going around with bare legs and a shorter skirt.  It’s my campaign to bring some skin into winter.  Reactions on the street are mixed, to say the least.  But I stand by my campaign!  And I will until, like, mid-January, when it gets really cold and I finally have to put on stupid tights.  (The secret is, it’s not a campaign, I just hate tights so much, so very much.  Almost as much as I hate pants.  Damn pants.)

Oh, while Katherine and I were out being brilliant a few days ago, I came up with a totally awesome quote that’s now my blog subtitle: “The best ideas are rarely good.”  I thought that was pretty rad.  I’m going to scrawl it on my forehead in permanent marker before every job interview ever.  (But seriously, potential employers Googling me, I’m just entertaining, don’t worry.  Imagine how much fun I will be around a water cooler.)  I also want to put it on my (still) potential business cards, but I’m pretty sure it violates every rule of business cards ever, and my career services guy may just start hitting me and never stop.  Anyway, with Katherine I plotted out the business cards: my name, this quote, and a picture of my face, squished into a photocopier.  Missing: phone number, email, anything else.

6 Comments

Filed under exercise, fucking inanity, shenanigans, stupid jokes

Sushi Yummy

Just went out for sushi with Kathleen.  I successfully used chopsticks… depending on how loosely you define “successfully”.  I did not ask for a fork, which is, in my mind, a successful bout with chopsticks.  Stabbing in vain at the rice, crying in frustration, and finally eating it with my fingers is like success, right?  You’d be surprised how classy I can look while eating rice with my fingers… in my imagination KATHLEEN DO NOT RUIN THIS FOR ME.

Over lunch, we discuessed the idea of a $250 gift certificate to the liquor store.  I think I would go in planning to get, like, one really amazing bottle of wine, then come out with 25 $10 bottles of wine.  I would build a wine cellar, and take guests on a tour, and they’d be all impressed until they noticed it was filled with, like, Yellow Tail and Gallo Brothers.  Also, that my wine cellar is under my bed.  But then we’d get drunk on cheap wine under my bed and everything would be lovely.

Went out for drinks last night with numerous classmates for a “Semester is Finished” celebration.  Naomi and I came up with a plan for if I ever have a baby.  I’m going to abandon it at the mall, and it’ll be raised by the janitors and the staff at the Orange Julius stand.  And eventually my family will wonder why I never get them Christmas presents any more, and its because I can’t go back to the mall, because my baby lives there.  Anyway, we hit that point where we couldn’t stop laughing, but when we tried to explain the joke to other people they were just, like, That’s kind of funny.  So I’m memorializing it here, for you, Internet.

I did two presentations on Tuesday, which involved a lot of random analogies, like, “The search for the right collection management software is like the search for true love” and “So, if a tree falls in a forest, you know… can a robot really have knowledge?”

Wednesday was dedicated to sleeping in, window shopping downtown, and showing up to work and being told I could go home.  If I wanted to.  Um, yes please?  This is what lead to my being able to hang out with the classmates.  I’m still working on the weekend, so this was just a surprise day off.

This evening, I will go network with librarians and present myself as proper librarian material.  I need to make myself some stupid business cards.  Well, ideally, actually some intelligent business cards.  Not clever business cards, though; that’s too risky.  Staid, serious business cards, for my staid, serious business persona.  I’m frowning all serious-like as I write this.

4 Comments

Filed under fucking inanity, school, shenanigans, stupid jokes

Go Shannon, it’s your Halloween-party-day

Kickboxing yesterday!  You know, I had just been thinking to myself, “Self, it’s been, like, two months since you gave a person a piggyback ride.  What is even up with that?”  The Halloween-Party-Day gods were listening, and they answered.  In piggyback form.  My piggybackee, Sam, cheered me on with the whole, Go Shannon, It’s your birthday chant, until I corrected her with the Halloween-Party-Day chant.  Because yesterday, being the Saturday immediately before Halloween, was Halloween-Party-Day.  After that, she just concentrated on racing me against fellow bootcamper Laura.  Quoth Sam, “I’m always competitive when I’m the rider.”

Other kickboxing adventures: I got knocked over!  Right onto my butt.  That’s what happens when you get chatty and inattentive during a kicking drill.  Also, I have paid for my boxing gloves, and will receive them sometime next week.  New bruise: Left hip, lovely shade of dark purple.

Halloween party at the Library House!  Apparently, drinking wine straight from the bottle has become my signature, and I am deeply, deeply pleased with this.  I figure if I use a glass, I am just making more work for Library House People the next day, and also buying into the Dawn Liquid Soap advertising conspiracy and we’re all just puppets of the wine glass industry… or… something.  I don’t know, it all starts to fall apart once I start “thinking” about it.

Anyway, hungover until noon, so I skipped grappling, like a loser.  I have done precisely dick in terms of fitness today.   Have done precisely dick in terms of a lot of things, really.  No closer to attaining Nirvana, curing cancer, or finding true love.  But I did some homework and came to work, also I got to sleep in and watch sitcoms.  My life rules!  What were we talking about?

Leave a comment

Filed under exercise, fucking inanity, great ideas, kickboxing