Tales from the Pool

You may or may not know that I have recently gotten back in the pool, the last time I swam was likely the last post you read about swimming. I enjoy swimming immensely. This past weekend I took my very first class ever: a water dynamics class. Yes, I was the youngest one there, good guess! The people were lovely, and the teacher reminded me of someone...in a movie...it will come to me. She was middle aged, brown mousy hair, black shirt and shorts, and a black excersise headband reminiscent of Flashdance. In the movie, I can see her, and she's really trashy with a cigarette in her mouth. Oh man, it's on the tip of my tongue!

The people were very nice, but there was some concern lurking in my mind about the fact that I was the only one who showered prior to entering the pool. One woman came in, and the familiar smell of ammonia wafted in my direction. This was worrysome. At least the other women smelled like Aveda products! :) No one else had wet their hair, they all wore makeup, glasses and earrings. I was severely out of place.

The class started and I kept up just fine. I never felt like I got my heart rate up, and I think the teacher was surprised she spent more than a half hour on warm-up. Her CD playing boombox kept skipping, then dying, then repeating...it was a long hour music wise.

Everytime someone new came into the pool, I would move so as to include them in the circle. The circle kept growing until we were 2 rows, one on each side of the pool. I was by the pool wall until the noodles on the ledge plugged up my sinuses. See, I have an allergy to mold and mildew. I was not excited about the noodles. I plugged away, and was fine once I got my noodle underwater, but the woman would forget to tell us when we were using the noodles and when we weren't, so I found myself doing all the exercises with the noodle, and she would giggle, "aaaaahh ha ha ha ha" in her high pitched voice, "we're not using the noodle now." Thanks a wahoo :)

Speaking of wahoo, there was an older gentleman in the pool who was a "wooter." This is a general term for someone who screams, "woooooooot!" Every time the words, "Double Time" are spoken. It was like a hootenanny, and he liked the music. I laughed a lot.

Anyway, I survived, spent 90 minutes in the pool moving the whole time, and never took any breaks. I love the pool, but it really dries out my skin and my hair. I bought a swim cap today.

So, I've been staring at the screen, and I cannot remember who this lady reminds me of, but it's uncanny. I can't place the movie. I hope you can. She sits with her hands on her knees, smoking, and sounds drunk when she speaks. I'm thinking late 80s, early 90s. When I think of it (and I WILL :P), I will let you know.

Today's song of the day, in light of my newfound pool hobby and the way I don't yet feel slim is from Veggie Tales. If you don't know it already, I'm surprised. Just push play.

Odd little Story

Last night was one of those nights where it stormed a lot, you could tell, but pretty far away. Constant bright lightning and latent thunder with just a slow tapping of rain, as if the storm was actually being polite. I for one was thrilled, as it was a full moon, and the activity seemed to keep the bored, destructive teenagers at bay, like pacing wolves. The courtyard was pretty quiet and I had the window open. Somewhere in the night, a small dog called me out of my dreaming with a little “Yip.” Subconsciously I knew the sound belonged to a trendy dog name, some sort of “oodle.” I ran through the possibilities in my mind as he continued yipping in the courtyard. Labradoodle? No (yip!). Chihuahuadoodle? Is that a word (yip yip yip!)? What was that one I read in a magazine, the new one? It was like a dachshund and poodle, right (yip yip yip yip yip yip yip)? Oh, Dachsuhuahua, no poodle there. Boy that dog (yip yip) is annoying. Someone should tell that dog to shut up! Yip yip…yip yip…yip! Then suddenly, mid-yip, BAM! Lightning hit the park with an instantaneous thunderclap shaking the whole house. There was silence. No owner, no yip, no sound whatsoever. It was the only close lightning strike the entire storm. Against our nature as nature lovers, in our stupor we started laughing. Half conscious and imagining a smoke ball with a fluff spot in the yard, our cartoon side won out. We laughed hysterically and uncontrollably, describing the scene we thought may be left in the yard, and God laughing at this joke, this rogue lightning strike.

Today's song is (hee heee giggle)