Shopping With Jon

A few Saturdays ago I decided it was time to break down and buy some "real" running clothes. I had 3 items on the list: a shirt, some pants, and a sports bra.

We decided to make it a family outing so all of us headed to Target with my gift cards from Christmas. (Oh, how I hated to use them on running clothes.)

Knowing my time frame for having cooperative kids in a store is short, I hurried and selected some shirts and pants to try on and hustled down the aisle toward the dressing room. Then from way back in the distance I hear Jon calling to me, "Hey, Liz you forgot to get a training bra!"

Sports bra Jon. Sports bra.

And the reasons to hate running just keep on going...

Did I mention how loud the words "training bra" sound in a public place? Especially when they are directed at you?

...and going and going...

Lent

It's that time of year again.

Lent.



For this season I am:

#1. Giving up Dr. Pepper after 1:00pm. (This really is a big deal since I usually have at least 2 of them between then and bedtime.)

#2. Eating a HEALTHY breakfast everyday. (No more gas station chocolate donuts and Nibs which really are magnificent in the morning.)

#3. Taking my vitamins everyday.

#4. In general going to take better care of my body.



It was either this or give up swearing. But considering the fact that I've had a raging headache spawned by caffeine withdrawals ever since Wednesday night I am now keenly aware that I've made the wrong choice. @#$*% it all. It's going to be a long 40 days.

Even Blogger Thinks I'm Messed Up!

So after I pushed publish on that last post Blogger popped up with a bunch of adds for me all about the causes, treatments, and medications for anxiety.

What the heck?

Is it that obvious that I need to be institutionalized?

Oh well, I gotta go. There may be someone trying to sneak in the front door to steal Jon's IPOD. (Everyone knows he's got an excellent selection of tunes on it!)

Speaking of Play Lists

So the other Saturday night I went to the gym to run again. (All this running is going to kill me.) It was about 7:00 so it was dark and cold. When I arrived there were only 2 other people in the place. However, they both left before I had a chance to fire up the treadmill.

I was all alone.

In general I don't mind being alone. But like I said it was dark and cold and that makes everything kind of creepy. Then the main lights went off. Sure, the back up lights were still on but now everything was dim and shadowy which only enhanced the creepiness.

Not wanting to get off the treadmill but wanting the lights to go back on I started waving my arms over my head in an attempt to trip the motion detector. That's when I noticed my reflection in the windows. All that running and flailing around. Not sexy.

I stopped waving.

I started worrying. Unreasonable. Irrational worries. What if someone is hiding in the bathroom just waiting to junp out and get me? What if someone sneaks up behind me and bashes my head in with a weight? What if someone shoots me through the windows I'm running in front of? What if I have a heart attack and die in here by myself? What if. What if. What if.

So I'm sick. Big surprise. But my overactive imagination was being fueled by stress, lack of sleep and Jon's IPOD play list. (No, I still don't my own yet. I hate being poor even more than I hate running if you can believe it.) Which means I'm at the mercy of Jon's music selection.

As thoughts of homicidal gym rats raced through my head I realize I'm listening to that old Bonnie Tyler song "Holding Out for a Hero" (you know the one..."he's gotta be strong and he's gotta be fast and he's gotta be larger than life...") with all the heart beats in the background and the insaino back up singers with all the scary OOOOOO's and AAAAAAA's.

Not so good for my jumpy nerves. I skip to next song.
Pat Benatar, "Hit Me With Your Best Shot". Nope. Skip again.
Kenny Loggins, "Danger Zone". No way. Skip again.
Europe, "The Final Countdown". Not even.

Whew! Bon Jovi, "It's My Life". Finally something that won't make me think I'm about to be plundered. Oh wait, what's that he's saying? I aint gonna live forever?

Skip.

Between all the messing around with the IPOD, looking over my shoulder for serial killers, and that crazy arm pumping action I'm tripping and stumbling all over the treadmill. Which makes me think I should be more concerned with breaking an ankle than with murderers.

As this thought dawns on me a dude walks into the gym. I'm not alone anymore. With death narrowly averted I finish my run and head out to the car. Where I start to think..what if someone saw me in there alone and is now waiting in the mini van to slay my sweaty self?

I open the door, check for crouching tigers (seriously I'm mental), get in and turn on the van where I am greeted (no lie) by the Police. "Every step you take, every move you make I'll be watching you."

No more night time visits to the gym for me.

Yea, That's Right, I Said Jon Denver.

That's right. Jon Denver. I listen to Jon Denver.

It could be worse. Some people watch High School musical, think that the "Imagination Movers"are hot, or own "Team Edward" t-shirts. ( I know who you are.)

But I listen to Jon Denver.

I admit it. I'm cool with my dorkness. I also listen to Neil Diamond. I've even been to one of his concerts and my only regret is that I didn't buy the rhinestone encrusted T-shirt that said "Diamond Girl". (Neil could beat down a lame wad vampire any day of the week I can tell you that much.)

So there you have it. Jon Denver and Neil Diamond. They are almost as dynamic a duo as Mc Hammer and Vanilla Ice. Oops, I think I've said to much...

At least that's better than Oops I did it again. Dun Dun dundun Da Dun

The Play List

I have to get ready for a marathon. It's a long story and I don't really want to talk about it (talking about it makes the repression process just that much harder) but I need some help.

I'm out there running (and I use that term very loosely) and to keep myself from going mid evil I've taken to borrowing Jon's IPOD. Visions of myself speeding through the miles to heart pounding jams filled my brain. What I got however was Afterglow and like every General Conference talk since the 1980's. While these may be inspirational in some respects they do not speed up my pace.

I did find a little pocket of music in there that I started listening to but it gives me the giggles which, again, is not very helpful. For instance I was running along when Donny Osmond started singing that he'll "make a man out of" me.

I don't want to be a man.

I do want my own IPOD. I am trying to save for one. Hopefully I'll be able to buy a Shuffle (is that what they are called?) soon. At which point I'll program in my own play list. It will not include Afterglow or Donny Osmond. The question is what will it include?

Since I am anti-exercise this is quite out of my realm. I don't think that my current tunes will power me up (Bob Dylan, Janis Joplin, Cake, Jon Denver, Frank Sinatra, and the like). So I ask you (pretending that anybody actually reads this blog) what songs can I put on my running play list that will help me go faster and make me forget that I'd rather be doing anything than jiggling my junk for the whole world to see?

Any input would be appreciated.
*If you are thinking about suggesting anything by Afterglow or Donny Osmond please reread paragraphs 3,4, and 5 before commenting. Thank you.

The One Who Thinks He's The Boss

Just in case you were worried...

Simon wasn't traumatized by the robot decapitation. In fact, he whole heartedly approved. He is convinced that the robot has turned "evil" and "hates us". He tried reasoning with the thing but it just kept beeping. Stupid good for nothing robot.

Right now the headless corpse is blinking it's light board chest at me.
That thing really is evil.

Jon's the Boss

Jon just tore that robots head off.

I love that man.

So much I'll even let him think he's the boss for a little while.

Unless, of course him and Simon build another robot. Then he's dead meat.

Who's the Boss

Right now Simon is splashing around in my tub singing "You're not the boss of me now. You're not the boss of me now and your not so big..." (That annoying theme song from Malcom in the Middle which I don't know where he heard it since I hate that show---is it even on TV anymore?)

Anyway,back to now...singing...splashing...a partially nude baby...flashing lights...and BLEEP...BLEEP... BLEEP... BLEEP... BLEEP...

While I was at the copy store Jon and Simon used a kit and built a full on robot. And it's not just any robot it is a light sensitive robot that bleeps out an alarm if you pass by it. BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP.

I hate that thing.

And of course since it's a homemade joby there is no on and off switch and no freaking batteries. I don't know how the dang thing operates and Jon is gone speaking at some Young Women's thing.

BLEEP BLEEP splash splash
Your not the boss of me now.

I can't move. The robot is watching.
I think it suspects something....

Pizza Fire Clarification

As my brother pointed out on Sunday it wasn't actually the pizzas that caught on fire it was the potatoes that Jon had spilled in there when he whipped up some dutch oven cooking. And it wasn't as much of a fire as it was a spontaneous combustion with mounds of black smoke and putrefied smells.

And as this was information from a post several posts ago nobody really cares.

Nevertheless consider the matter clarified.