Today was our last day on January Choreography and my dance classes KILLED IT!!! The beginner class had some very challenging choreography (especially the fast pivots to the pose at the end) and they were awesome. The intermediate class dance their choreography about 50% faster than we have been and they completely ROCKED it. It made me so happy.
Now I’m off to choreograph February’s combinations. Woo Hoo!!!
This is a true story – from friends of mine (it’s hilarious, kind of gross and includes bodily fluids and swearing…you’ve been warned!)
Cast of Characters:
S (5 years old), C (2 years old), Ch (5months) W (Wife)
The Following Takes Place Monday Night From 6:05pm-6:15pm
It was a rather normal Monday night. The girls had finished dinner and we were enjoying some family time. S and C were wrestling with W while baby Ch was in my lap making faces. S came into our playroom with Ch and I, then it all began….
I laid back on the couch, lifted Ch over my head. While making faces with each other, a stream of a freshly consumed breast milk shot from Ch’s smiling mouth, hitting me in the right eye and then making a perfectline midway down my chest. I froze. Holding Ch still, I heard S quickly say "SWEET!"
"S", I said, "please go ask your mother to bring me towel…now!" As she jumped off the couch and ran to the kitchen, I heard her shout "Mom, Ch yaked on Dad, bring us a towel" I smiled, still holding my right eye closed and Ch hovering over me, she continued to smile, as did I. As the father of 3 girls under 5, this was far from the first time I’ve been yaked upon.
W and S quickly returned to the playroom. W stared over me, smirking, then gently wiping the urrp from my eye and shirt. Then, she took Ch from my hands and sent me upstairs to change. S followed me upstairs, still reveling in the moment and asking if I had yak on my underwear too, or just my shirt?
A quick change of shirt and we headed back downstairs. As we entered the playroom, C, who was previously MIA and missed all the previous action sat in front of the TV, chair pulled under the table, with a small blue plate and a brownie. "Interesting", I thought to myself, "I didn’t know we had any brownies". About :20 seconds later, S got a whiff of the brownie, and you got it, that was no brownie! That’s right, it was a plate of shit!
"Ahhh" screamed S. "Oh fuck" screamed Dad. I grabbed C under the arms, yelled to W and headed as fast as I could toward the upstairs bath. The stench was unbelievable. C had taken that brownie fresh from the factory and spread it like hair gel all over her. As I sprinted upstairs, S ran behind screaming "C ate her poop, eeww, gross"
W dashed into the playroom to begin to clean up the mess while I had the living turd with me. I quickly got C into the bathtub, trying desperately to limit the damage. "Don’t touch your face, be still honey, it’s OK" I said over and over. Although at this point there was no consoling her. She cried loud and often. Meanwhile, her all too curious sister sat behind me watching the play-by-play.
As I peeled off layers of clothing, I flung her sinfully soiled shirt over my right shoulder. Not paying attention, apparently the shit shirt hit S, sending her into a frenzy. Within moments, as I desperately tried to scrub the poop from underneath C’s fingernails, I heard an all too familiar sound behind me. "S, S, don’t you throw up" Apparently, the shit shirt had grazed her, and a whiff of the poop sent her intoconvulsions. "S, S, take a deep breath" But it was too late. As I peeled another layer of poop from C, here came a pile of freshly almost digested Chicken Salad from S’s mouth. I quickly whirled around, grabbing her with my soiled hands and trying to get her to the sink, but the damage had been done. And in usual fashion, we got the last 10% into to sink and the other 90% on the floor, my legs and the cabinets.
I screamed "HELP" to W, "Get Up Here Now" However, W had her hands full (o-poop) downstairs, so for the moment, I was on my own. I managed to get C stable, sent S to her room to change and tried to contain the area. Within a few minutes, I headed downstairs. As I stood halfway down, my eyes met W standing in the kitchen. We exchange one of "those" moments that only parents understand. That glance that needs no words. A glance that within it carries love, laugh, anger and acceptance. As I looked to W’s right, Ch sat in her chair, cooing and smiling at me. S then passed my on the stairs and said "Sorry I yaked Dad" and in the background I heard C in her room screaming "Yippee, WooHoo" – And so it was. 15 minutes of chaos. 15 minutes of life. 15 minutes of parenthood.
Ashley berates Fox News for running a headline story about her sister’s weight
"I am completely disgusted by the headlines concerning my sister’s weight," Simpson wrote Tuesday on her website. "A week after the inauguration and with such a feeling of hope in the air for our country, I find it completely embarrassing and belittling to all women to read about a woman’s weight or figure as a headline on Fox News."
Is this article talking about it:
Summary – idiots at GameStop management decide that it would be a peachy-keen fabulous idea to dress their employees up in fat suites to advertise fitness games. Originally I was happy to see an article trashing the idea until I read it. The gems include such things as "First of all, I mean, come on. Who wants to buy a fitness game from a fat person?" The article has moments of positive ideas but in general I think the article is an Epic Fail.
This started as a reply to aeryn42 ‘s post, but now I want my friends to weigh in. Here is my 2cents:
Dork: Someone with a lack of social skills and grace. Not necessarily of above-average intelligence or with any sort of hobby, just generally awkward.
Nerd (two categories)
Vanilla Nerd: Someone of above-average intelligence, at least some degree of social awkwardness, and a passion for non-technical English/History/Math/Science pursuits that has caused them to be teased. Aka: bookish, smartypants, know-it-all, teacher’s pet etc.
[Modified] Nerd: Someone of above-average intelligence, at least some degree of social awkwardness, with a passionate interest/devotion to some hobby that is generally considered uncool (you must have been teased about your interest/devotion in order to qualify). The hobby modifies the word nerd when describing these nerds; ie: Buffy Nerd, SCA Nerd, Magic the Gathering Nerd etc.
Geek: Someone of above-average intelligence, at least some degree of social awkwardness, with a passionate interest/devotion to technical/computer pursuits including coding, fixing, building, etc. IT Projected Managers who do not do the technical side are simply wanna be geeks or ‘suits".
Borrowed from noisesinmyhead
GO read this here:
"There is something immoral and sick about using all of that power to not end brutality and poverty, but to break into people’s bedrooms and claim that God sent you," Sharpton told a full house on Sunday.
"It amazes me," he said, "when I looked at California and saw churches that had nothing to say about police brutality, nothing to say when a young black boy was shot while he was wearing police handcuffs, nothing to say when they overturned affirmative action, nothing to say when people were being [relegated] into poverty, yet they were organizing and mobilizing to stop consenting adults from choosing their life partners."
"I am tired," he went on, "of seeing ministers who will preach homophobia by day, and then after they’re preaching, when the lights are off they go cruising for trade…We know you’re not preaching the Bible, because if you were preaching the Bible we would have heard from you. We would have heard from you when people were starving in California–when they deregulated the economy and crashed Wall Street you had nothing to say. When [accused Ponzi scammer] Madoff made off with the money, you had nothing to say. When Bush took us to war chasing weapons of mass destruction that weren’t there you had nothing to say.
"But all of a sudden, when Proposition 8 came out, you had so much to say, but since you stepped in the rain, we’re going to step in the rain with you."
A learning disabled man is left to die in front of paramedics because of his disability, his weight, and the state of his house.
I’m sorry Barry, the world can do better than this.
Woo Hoo. Had the first dance classes for bigger bodies today (very seriously need a better name). It was a little bit rough which I expected – lots of people at lots of different levels. The people who came were completely awesome and I definitely hope that they will come back.
I found myself getting emotional at various times in the class, just the idea that by sheer force of will the 21 of us had created a space full of body love and movement is completely amazing to me. It’s like, for 2 hours, I got to step outside of a culture that does its best to make me hate my body each and every day, and step into a fantasy world where people with all different body shapes smile, and dance, and laugh.
Today was a great day in my life.
If you’ve ever thought, "Gosh, I’d like to see her dance", now is your chance. Just click here.
This PSA brought to you by people for a jackass free gym
Ah it’s the New Year. Resolutions are made, some are already broken, and the gym is full of people who don’t know a free-weight from an elliptical machine. We call them the "New Year’s Resolutions" and it’s common knowledge that it will take 30 minutes to get a treadmill for the next two months and then, like the gym-locusts of last January, most of them will be gone. If you are one of these people, then I applaud you for taking steps to be healthier. That is awesome. I’m glad you are here. If you also happen to be a big person, I’m SUPER glad you’re here because there aren’t enough of us. Rock. On.
That being said, kindly try not to be a complete Jackass.
Even if you’re doing the "Body for Life" program, you don’t need to get six sets of free weights at once. The words "Can I set in?" mean "Can I please use those weights that you aren’t using?" or "Can I please use that machine while you’re resting from your set?". The answer to this question is always yes.
Look around before you just start grabbing things and moving benches around. Think of it as a new job, you learn the office etiquette before you start playing your radio, trying to make coffee, taking breaks etc. (You do that, right?). It’s the same at the gym–figure out what’s appropriate before you re-arrange furniture like it’s “Trading Spaces–the Weight Room Addition”.
A piece of advice that could save your life: if you are going to take a group exercise class the teacher is glad that you are there. Many of the students are not. It’s neither your fault nor theirs. Stick around and you’ll become one of them. Regardless, in order not to get killed, hang out and wait for people to set up their spots. People have specific spots in the class where they like to be. They’ve earned the right to stand in that spot because they’ve been coming to the class for a long time. It’s just how it goes, and I know that it’s not entirely fair. Deal with it–it’s the culture of the gym. While I’m at it, look around the class and see how much space people are giving each other. Don’t set up your step 3 inches from someone else unless you want to tell your grandkids about the time you got kicked in the head in step class.
We’re glad that you’re here, stick around and become one of us or leave in late February with the drove of people never to be seen nor heard from again. But whether your stay with us is brief or extended, please don’t be a Jackass.
Thank you.
Dances With Fat 