My laziness DOES make me smarter!

Drew, Eric and I have become completely obsessed with the TV show How It's Made on the Science channel. The last 48 hours or so they have been showing a marathon and I now know how they make everything from fur pelts to halogen headlights for cars. The upside of all this TV watching is I now feel slightly smarter for my effort. The downside of all this TV watching is I have accomplished absolutely nothing of value today. I'll muster some concern as soon as this next episode is over.

Brawl in McCall

Every year the league Eric co-directs holds a hockey tournament in McCall, ID, a small resort town about two hours north of here. Eric was tasked with doing league director stuff and I got asked to be scorekeeper. We stayed in a rental house with the main league director, three refs and one of the players. I, as usual, was the only girl.

Here are a few of the things I learned during my weekend adventure at the Brawl in McCall:

1. In order to become "one of the guys" when you are the only wife in a house full of guys who really don't want there to be any wives/girlfriends/whatevers -- you have to blend. My chosen method of blending is to be as loud and obnoxious as they are and to drink as much, if not more, beer than they do. The lesson? When one consumes a half rack of Miller Light and only sleeps for two hours it results in waking up still drunk.

2. When you wake up still drunk from the night before the best cure is to begin drinking again sometime around 10:30 a.m. Since I was the scorekeeper this resulted in lots of entertaining commentary and beer thievery by players in the penalty box. The lesson? When surrounded by hockey players, keep one eye on your beer at all times.

3. A wild coyote will chase a drunk hockey player down a dark, snowy street until the hockey player yells obscenities at it.

4. When you are dead ass tired on the second night of a three night tournament and at 3:30 a.m. the rest of your housemates are still partying, and you have to get up in 2 1/2 hours -- do not, I REPEAT, DO NOT open your bedroom door to yell at them. I now have, forever seared into my brain, the sight of our league director in his underwear.

5. When you are yelling at your housemates at 3:30 in the morning because they are still partying, the most effective choice of words is as follows, "It is 3:30 in the morning. I have to get up at 6:00. SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Then slam the door.

6. When you yell "shut the fuck up" at your drunk housemates at 3:30 in the morning they will, in fact, repeat said phrase to you at every possible opportunity for every imaginable reason for the remainder of the weekend.

7. A Laborador Retriever can run faster than a Honda Accord on a snow packed street.

8. At 7:00 in the morning, on too little sleep, with a hang-over, the funniest thing you could possibly ever hear is, "Dude! You just got passed by a dog!"

9. When you are staying in a house filled with guys and you are standing in front of a window naked after a shower, it is important to always, ALWAYS, be sure the blinds on the window are not completely see-through.

10. An all-wheel drive Volvo will slide down a steep driveway, hit the side of a house and get stuck. Four drunk hockey players are not capable of pushing a stuck Volvo out of an ice rut. Four drunk hockey players will try, repeatedly, to push a stuck Volvo out of an ice rut.

And lastly,

11. Keeping score for 22 hockey games in 2 1/2 days in a freezing cold ice rink with too little sleep and too much beer results in a sinus infection.

I guess it's good I don't have implants.

Over the summer I decided to start taking a Tae-kwon-do class. Drew has been going for over a year and has really been doing great. I spent an inordinate amount of time over the weeks watching his class and got to know his instructors pretty well. Seeing as how I was a regular in the gym I suppose that made me fair game for harrassment. SO...when I say I "decided" to take TKD what that really means is I finally caved in to the constant prodding and elected for physical torture as an alternative.

I am not what one would call "in shape." I am A shape, but one normally found in beer brewing companies and not so much in nature. A long, long time ago in what I am beginning to suspect was, in fact, a galaxy far, far away I was a dancer and was in pretty darn good shape. Now I find myself winded from running 5 measly laps around the inside of the gym. Not the big fancy gym you are probably thinking...NO...think closer to 3-car garage outfitted for no purpose other than to make you cry.

Anyway, these classes turned out to be the Most. Awesome. Thing. Ever. and I can't even begin to say thank you to Matt and Shirley quite enough to fully express my gratefulness for having had them browbeat me into finally agreeing to regular beatings and ritualistic humblings. Actually, I am not sure thank you is quite the sentiment I was hoping to express, but it'll do.

So tonight in class after the TKD version of waterboarding, otherwise known as Burpees, we got to spar. I'm not very good with sparring. The only thing I have going for me is really long legs with which, in theory, I can kick my sparring partner from about 3-feet away. However, in my focused attempts to kick them I tend to forget to consider what they might be attempting to do to me. That results in my getting my ass kicked.

Tonight I got punched in the stomach. I got punched repeatedly in the face. AND...yes...that's right...I got punched in the boob.

The BOOB people. And yet...I shall return. And probably get punched in the boob again.

Frankie makes it sound so easy.

This time last year I signed up for one of those auto subscription things to a business called Massage Envy. Basically, they take a set amount of money automatically every month and in return, I get a massage. Seemed like a fabulous deal for me - I mean, a massage? Every month? With no guilt? It was the Best! Idea! Ever!

Honestly? Those massages really feel like they are free because I don't have to pay for them when I go in. Some anonymous benefactor is covering the cost. I just have to tip. WIN! Well, in a little place called "Jayna's Delusions" they are paid for by an anonymous benefactor. In reality, I am the anonymous benefactor.

This past Monday I had my massage scheduled for 8:00. My plan: I would work all day, go to my Tae-kwon-do class and then head on over for a lovely massage. I would relax and enjoy and then go home, fall into bed and sleep like a baby for at least 8 hours awaking refreshed and happy and, with luck, richer and thinner. Yeah. Nice plan. Poor execution.

My inner monologue while on the massage table sounded something like this:

Oohhh...this table is so nice and warm. I am going to LOVE this massage. This is going to be so relaxing. I am going to clear my mind. Think about nothing. Clear my mind. Think about nothing but the soothing music. Music. Music. I love music. I need to get on iTunes and download some new stuff for my phone. I wonder if I should get a new phone. Eric really wants the new 3G and it would be nice to get it for Christmas. Ugh. Christmas. I need to finish Christmas shopping. I need to go shopping period. I really need boots for work and more pants. I mean, I only have a couple of pairs that even really look good anymore and I should get some that look better and...oh wait. Clear my mind. Clear. Think about nothing. Think about static on a tv. Nothing to see. Nothing there. Just static on the tv. I really liked that episode of Amazing Race on Sunday. I hope the team with the lawyer guy lose soon. He's an ass. He obviously has issues because he is all Mr. Workout with these huge muscles and he is so mean to his girlfriend. I hate guys like that. They think it is ok to treat everyone, especially women, like crap just because they are all buff and stuff. Thing is he isn't even good-looking! He is just an idiot! He should really get therapy. Speaking of therapy. I should get physical therapy on my knees. It is really driving me crazy how they hurt all the time and I am just sick of constantly being virtually crippled and...ah, shit. RELAX! STOP THINKING! SHEESH! Clear your mind. Relax. Empty head. Think nothing. Just empty your head. Deep breaths. Deeps breaths. In. Out. In. Out. Relax. Relax. Relax. Relax. Don't do it. When you want to go to it. Relax. Don't do it. When you want to come. ARGH! Stop it! What is wrong with you woman?! Why can't you just empty your freakin' mind like normal people. Holy crap! Clearly? You are insane! Ok...ok...I AM going to clear my mind. I can do this. I can. Clear my mind. Nothing to see here. Just my empty mind. Oh, wait. She is getting ready to work on the back of my thighs. I hate this part. I can just see the cellulite puckering up in all is cottage cheesy glory and this is really embarrassing. It's just hanging out there for the whole world to see. Good thing it's dim in here. Too bad I can't walk around in flattering lighting all the time. Wouldn't that be great? Also? I think it would be awesome to have a movie soundtrack in your head. That way, you would always know what was going to happen. You could really stay out of trouble just by listening to the ominous music that always plays when the psycho killer is waiting in the next room and it would make dating so much easier. Well, I mean, if I were single. Man, I am glad I am not single. Eric is so great. I really got lucky with him. I mean, met at a bar and all that jazz. It usually doesn't work out that way and it was just like we met and it was perfect and here we are 8 years later with a son and...AGAIN with the thinking! Just take deep breaths. Really?! Obsess much? Just clear your head you freaking loser! It can't be THAT hard! All you have to do is stop with the thinking...

...and so it went. For an hour and a half. An hour and a half during which I did not clear my mind for one single second. I did; however, mentally complete my Christmas shopping list, design the perfect Halloween costume if only I were 25 pounds thinner, determine exactly how many days I would have to starve myself in order to lose said 25 pounds before the Halloween party, calculate the emergency room costs for each visit made after fainting in Tae-kwon-do class after not eating on starvation days and planned a trip to Vegas during which I would hit a jackpot allowing me to be a lady of leisure and hire a personal trainer.

I think I need to work on that whole relaxation thing. Apparantly? I am not very good at it.