Another sign of aging

Most of the signposts for aging haven’t been too surprising.  White hair, fading features, slowing metabolism – not great, but expected.  Then there are the ambushes.

I’ve been called “ma’am” for about 10 years, especially if I am visiting the south.  So when we were in New Orleans, having lunch with friends of ours, I didn’t blink when the waitress asked, “And what will you have, ma’am?”

Except I hadn’t gotten ma’am’ed.  I got Mom’ed.  (“And what will you have, Mom?”)

Keep in mind, I’m 44.  Our friends are in their early 30s.  I suppose it’s barely biologically possible that one of them could have been my kid (or maybe the waitress thought we were a family on a day out?), but COME ON! 

I’m telling myself it’s all the white hair that threw her off.

Guess! Their! Ages!

When I watch a movie or a show, I usually don't think much about the specifics of the actors.  I might like how they look or act, or not, but I don't really give much thought to how old they are.  Then, sometimes, when I find out through some source how old they really are, it comes as a shock.  Most of the shock comes from what their age is in relation to mine.

I'll start with the most surprising ones recently.  I'll start by posting a picture along with my guess of whether they were older or younger than me.

JON HAMM
Oh, Don Draper.  You're so suave and confident.

My guess: he's a few years older than me.  And rowr.

JESSE JAMES
Looks like he's been rode hard and put away wet. 

My guess: Older than me.  At least a few years.

PETER DINKLAGE
Good actor, never really gave much thought to his age. 

My guess: a little younger than me.

Click through for THE ANSWERS:

Learning through yoga

I've been going back to yoga classes for the last couple of months.  Although I generally prefer to eat lunch at lunchtime, any flexibility I might have had was disappearing at an alarming rate.  I already know that I'll never get to the level of an 18-year-old Cirque du Soleil contortionist, but I would like to be able to unfurl my hamstrings more than halfway.  It's important to keep realistic goals.

So, I've added two yoga classes a week to my two cardio/strength classes a week.  With meetings and some travel interfering, I've been making about half of the yoga classes, not bad.

The classes at my gym have some new stuff.  The Tuesday class is called the "yang" class.  This one is more familiar to me, going through poses fairly quickly, including sun salutations and working big muscle groups one after another.  The breathing practice is (and I'm going to have to spell this phonetically) "Ujaee", and is active. The body builds up some heat in this practice, and we rotate through different focus points from week to week.

The Thursday class, however, is all new to me.  The teacher calls this one a "yin" practice.  Breathing is kept soft here, with a focus on relaxing the body, and poses are held for 2-5 minutes each.  The intent in these classes is not in improving muscle flexibility, but in stretching out connective tissues, like ligaments.  I have been tricked by a couple of these poses; it's easy, it's relaxing, it's AAAAAGH OW breathe!  Breathe!  During some of the spine series, I can really picture my spine as the solid, articulating support it is.  Good stuff.

Overall I think I am making slow progress, and I'm learning new things.  Three of these came up just in Tuesday's class.

1. Get to the class in time to get an inconspicuous spot.  Not only can you see the teacher better if you're not in the same row, you can also not put your effortful beginner's practice on display for all.  I got there later than most of the people, and had a spot in the very front of the room.

2.  Choose your clothes carefully.  I wear yoga pants (full coverage), and am careful to make sure I don't wear a shirt that will fall up when I'm in downward dog.  On Tuesday I was feeling pretty good.  I did NOT realize that the hem of the shirt only falls to the top of my hips.  This was a bad tactical error, as I noticed the first time I raised both my arms over my head.  Up went the dark gray shirt hem, in place stayed the black pants waistband, and I had a proud, wide, white belt of squishy midriff showing.  The color contrast really brought it out.

Oh.  Em.  Gee.

Did I mention to come to class early?  Yeah.  So, not only did everyone behind me get an eyeful of snowy muffin top, they also had a lovely front view thanks to my being right in front of the mirror in the front of the room.

But there's more.

3.  Geometry follows certain rules.

The way my anatomy is set up, there is not a lot of room between my ribs and my hipbone.  Which means that when I do a standing twist and then lean over in one direction, a roll pops out of my side and gets all in the way of the pose.  We did one of these postures on Tuesday. 

And this pose had my arms up over my head.

In front of the class.

Maximum visibility from all sides of a glowing, pale, pose-interfering, squishy roll.

Yeah.

So.

I am now being really, really picky about what clothes I take to class.

I also learned the phrase "folding the grapefruit" from a friend when I told her the story.  It's pretty fitting.  Which is why I will still be going to class. 

Early.

Our time with the kittens

We had been looking at kittens online for a while.  Kent was getting tired of me amusing myself by poking him in the ear while we were watching TV.  Whenever I'd do it, he'd sigh and say that I needed a cat.  So we were looking.

Kent had minor allergies to cats (itchy eyes and sniffles), so we did some research to see what would minimize dander.  Some cats are hypoallergenic but purebreds are super pricey.  We learned that female cats put off less allergens than males (especially unfixed males but who would have one of those around?), and shorthairs have less hair surface area to hold on to allergens.  Since we work so much we decided to get two so they could interact while we were gone all day.  So, we were aiming for sister litter mates with short fur.

We went to the SPCA a couple of weeks ago and, as previously where we entered a place with a lot of cats, Kent started sneezing.  He was sneezing both before and during us going in to meet "Knicki and Knuckles", a pair of 4-month-old sisters who were not afraid of us and playful.  We went home alone that day, but went back the next day and straight to them to see what kind of reaction Kent had.  He was a little itchy, but not bad, so we took them home.  Kent unfortunately had to leave right away for a business trip while I stayed with the kittens.

I had to make some unexpected changes.  We were keeping them in the sun room, and had already moved out the plants, but I couldn't figure out why the tablecloth on the table in there kept ending up on the floor.  I thought they were playing with loose threads - duh.  They were trying to jump up there, not quite making it, then pulling the tablecloth off with them.  First I put on a table pad, then 3 layers of table pad, then banker's boxes to weigh everything down, then I had to tape the banker box lids on because OMG BOXES WHAT IS IN THERE?  I forgot how kittens are.

So, we settled into a routine during the week.  I'd feed them when I got home in the evenings (so they wouldn't meow at 6 am on weekends), and I brushed them and wiped them down with a washcloth and played with them and thought of possible names.  Knicki was friendly from the get-go, but Knuckles was a little standoffish until after the washcloth wipe down.  I must have reminded her of a momcat cleaning her up.  When they played, they often poofed up like Halloween cats, and when they were relaxed they let me pet them and touch their bellies and paws.  They played a lot with paper balls and a stuffed mouse.  Knicki would let me pet her even when she was playing, but I learned not to try to take a toy from Knuckles.  She got the mouse stuck in her collar once and when I tried to touch it to free it, she swatted me without claws.  Fair enough, I let her get the mouse herself.

The stuffed mouse was the best.  It was pretty big - about the size of their head - and they would kill it over and over and over, ripped its ears off, and the funniest thing was they started taunting each other with it.  One would walk by, and if the other one wasn't showing interest immediately, the taunter would bat her on the head to stir up trouble.

Poopy coming running to her name

The kitties may have been a little upset in their stomachs.  I never saw any evidence of not using the litter box, but there was a funky smell on and off for several days.  So when Kent came home, we started calling the kittens Stinky and Poopy, not least of which because we couldn't do it without laughing.  "Hi Poopy!" bringing a purring furball over?  Funny.  We were still trying to think of names and were planning on getting a cat tree and releasing them to the house.  That is, until Kent started having trouble breathing a couple of hours after coming home.

He suffered through Friday night, and even going into the kitten room on Saturday morning set off another attack.  He couldn't pet them or play with them, and we had to keep them in the sun room.  We made an appointment to return the kittens the following weekend and hoped that exposure would calm his system down.

It didn't.

By midweek, Kent couldn't even be downstairs, because whatever the kittens were emitting was coming through the screen and into the room.  It was clear that we couldn't keep them.

We called yesterday to see if we could bring them in after their vet appointment Friday afternoon, and they said to just bring them down and they would take care of the exam themselves.  So, I played with them and fed them the last of the canned food, and pet them, and tried not to think of new names, and I bundled them back into their boxes, took their scratching pad and mouse and took them back to the shelter.  They cried in the car but I didn't start to cry until we got there.  I knew it was the best thing to do, but it broke my heart thinking of them being scared and lonely.

When the paperwork was done I started crying in earnest and couldn't even open the boxes to say goodbye, I couldn't bear to look at their scared little faces.  So I left.  I hope they got to keep their toys.  Kent felt terrible too since he liked them, but not being able to breathe wasn't going to work.

They should have no trouble finding someone to take them home.  I hope they both go together and are happy.    Goodbye, Stinky. Goodbye, Poopy.  I miss you very much and wish we could have kept you with us.

Still here!

I'm still around.  Really!  There's been a lot going on lately, but to be frank a lot of the things I might have posted about previously I now condense down into facebook status updates. 

I'm in the process of becoming one of those people that always talks about her cats (even if we don't have them for long).  Kent's asthma-like symptoms seem to have gotten a lot better so we're seeing if it's the cats themselves or if it's the litter, or what.  We have a surrender appointment for next Saturday, but if he's doing really well by then we'll cancel it.  I just can't see keeping them if he's having breathing problems, though.  We can't keep up with vacuuming every day with a HEPA vacuum, bathe, dust, etc.  And I don't think it's reasonable to make him get weekly shots.  We'll see how it goes.  In the mean time the kittens make us LOL regularly.

We have been calling them "Stinky" and "Poopy" but we really should find better names, although calling those names also makes us laugh.

I'm in the process of ripping CDs to the new computer, and I'm amazed at how few of my CDs had already been ripped.  I've found that I'm missing at least 3 CDs and I have the sneaking suspicion that they are in the CD player, which hasn't been unpacked since our move almost 2 years ago.  Oops.

More soon, including kitten videos...

New Orleans 2011

A short retrospective on the New Orleans trip; we've been traveling a lot lately and I'm behind on travelogues.  GO!

We got to New Orleans late on a Tuesday.  Bright and early on Wednesday we went to our Habitat for Humanity site in midtown.  With all my experience in renovations, I was pretty confident I could do whatever came along.  I've done painting, plumbing, electrical, tiling, and flooring.  So of course the order of the day was drywalling.  I didn't get any pictures, but there was a lot of dust, and I learned that I am a truly terrible drywaller.  Our leader, Erin, is doing the work as part of Americorps, and she was very patient with us.   



preparing for the running of the bull



We went out to the Jazz Fest Thursday and Friday.  Arcade Fire was really good but I'm afraid I really get more excited about the food out there than the music (hello, cochon du lait poboys!).  One evening I went to the Bourbon House with Erin Jeff and Kent.  We had our oysters and spinach salads, along with some other seafood, and finished up with little bourbon milkshakes, which in retrospect may not have been the best idea. 

There was a mishap with the camp chair on Friday.  Kent had packed it back into its bag, but there are pieces of PVC that hang out the top of the bag.  Kent made a sudden turn at one point and I put my hand up to protect my head, and got a cut on the base of my thumb.  Grrrrrr.  I was a little worried about it, since there was racetrack schmutz in the cut, but let me tell you, CVS makes a medicated waterproof  bandage that works like a magic trick.  I didn't get them till the day after, and the cut was completely closed after only 2 days and didn't have any trouble.



pate!



We attended a crawfish boil at the hotel on Friday night.  Joe from LA met us there and he and I were fortunate enough to get the last two boxes of crawfish.  The people behind us in line were none too pleased about this and chased us away from a couple of tables (sore losers), but we had our crawfish and were happy.  The crawfish were delicious, although spicy crawfish water is not good in a cut, please make a note for waterproof bandages BEFORE eating crawfish if this should happen to you.  After the crawfish, we had too many drinkies.  As a result, we had a slow day on Saturday.  I went out with the girls for brunch and a wander and a tarot reading (I didn't get one, I think the bandaid would have interfered with the palm reading anyway).  After that we met others at Felix, where they were serving up big fat glistening oysters.

On Mother's day, Kent and I had a late breakfast.  It was more difficult than we'd expected to find a place to eat; with the holiday, it took us 5 tries before we settled in a bar/restaurant by Jackson Square.  After breakfast, Kent went to the Fest and I wandered around the city.  I saw a "Before, During and After Katrina" exhibit, then realized I missed the chance for a river tour, so sat on the banks of the Mississippi for a while and watched the people and river traffic.  I came across the Smoke Time Jazz Club outside the Circuit Court building, and listened for a while.  It's very fine New Orleans style music, but the only video I got was only part of a song and very grainy.  One of these days I'll remember to bring my tripod so viewers won't have motion sickness while trying to watch the clips.  Click on the link above to see more of them and keep your ears open for them if you're wandering around the French Quarter.



a little hair of the dog



On Monday, I went to the airport with Jess and Kent at 5:15 am, and surrendered to the shop that sold fresh hot beignets.  I got my rental car and drove to Lafayette for work. I got to Lafayette, ate at Blue Dog Cafe twice (who knew so many places were closed on Mondays?), found the plant for work the next day, and watched a turtle marching along at the road side.  I worked on Tuesday, drove back to NOLA, and got the 7 am flight out on Wednesday.

dude was trucking along in the gutter

We were home for a couple of weeks before our next trip, taking the Mazda Protege to Denver.

my new used car!

After 16 years of driving my little blond Mazda Protege around, I recently started looking seriously at smaller cars.  We've lived in the city for a year and a half now, and our cars were too long for both of us to park in the garage, despite taking out built-ins and making as much room as possible.  I had debated the merits of the Smartcar, the Yaris, the Fit, the Mini, and other subcompacts.

The Smartcar gave me the willies when I thought of my freeway commute with large trucks.

The Fit, eh, it didn't really do anything for me.

The Yaris I still rather like.  It's like a little egg and it has good safety ratings.  But it didn't have the panache of the Mini Cooper.

So, I printed out a list of used Mini Coopers for sale in the area.  They covered a pretty broad range, in location and in year and features - not so much in price - and I marked the ones that looked interesting and then did additional research on them (kelly blue book values for retail sales, private sales and trade-ins; great info to have going in.  www.kbb.com).  The one that looked like the best deal on paper was in Redwood City so we decided to start there.  We went down around noon yesterday to check it out.

Kent came along, not only to see if he could fit into the car (no problem there), but also because he's the kind of guy that will walk out of a car price negotiation over $100.  I hate negotiating and the incremental BS that goes with it, so I would cave sooner on my own just to get it over with, so I figured he would be good to have along since he does this for sport.

We liked the test drive, but came back quickly since the car was almost out of gas.  We already knew the list price was rather high.  We'll call list price "X".  I was willing to pay "Y" if they would take it that day.  In the first round of negotiations, we let them know it would be a cash sale, so what kind of discount could they offer?  "We would like to pay 'Y'."  The sales guy followed the script by leaving to discuss this with management.  He came back with "Z", not a lot lower than "X", but with a coupon for auto detailing in hand. 

So, there's a little more discussion, and Kent seemed to be considering this (I couldn't look right at him since I would have at least smiled if not laughed outright), then said, "We would like to pay 'Y'."  (the same "Y" as in round one)  The sales guy leaves again.

This time, a manager comes back too.  He looks at us, tells us how we're beating up his sales guy, and tells us we have a deal.  I guess having all that research in hand made them nervous and they were motivated to make the sale.  That may have been the most painless dealership sale I've ever seen firsthand.  I know Kent was surprised that it was over that quickly so I hope he was not disappointed.  I don't think that the dealership is going to expect to see a truck post-Burning Man come in to use that detailing coupon, though.  They may end up regretting that part of the deal.

We then hung out while all the papers were being drawn up, got everything signed, wrote the check, and took both cars home.  I managed not to run over the ladder on the freeway on the inaugural trip.

On the way home, I tried on and off to get the radio working.  This car is significantly more complicated than my mid-90s car, and several of the controls are not intuitive.  It gave me something to do while at a red light, but even by the time I got home I still hadn't figured out the radio. 

When we got home, we went out for a celebratory late lunch, then came home and cleaned up the demolition disaster pile that was taking up garage space.  Two hours later, we pulled both cars into the garage, end to end.  YAY!  Unfortunately, now my new car is already filthy.

I will have to monkey with the car tonight (I'm reading the user's manual during breaks today and have high hopes about that radio), and I'm getting the paperwork in order for permits and insurance and bridge toll passes, but will be driving it regularly soon!  I'm also thinking of names.  So far the leading contender is "Yonder the Younger" (short version of a long story, I learned to drive on a blue Mazda RX2 which we called Yonder, as in "wild blue").

More pics soon!  Beep beep!