Bionica does sound intimidating, though.

Yesterday on the way to kickball practice, my friend was telling me about this crazy situation in her world and stopped to apologize for unloading all that emotional vomit on me. "Well, I'm an emotional barf bag," I told her. She cracked up and told me I should add that to my dating profile. That would be appropriate, wouldn't it? I'm joking, Mom, and so was she. Friends actually tell me that they will vet any potential suitor so that I can't be too nice and keep somebody around who treats me like poop. I'm getting better at identifying manipulative tactics and other nonsense, so that feels like progress,

The last few tennis lessons have been excellent, and tonight was the best. My coach told me I'm playing at about a 3.0 rating, which I find to be very exciting news. College players are about 6 and I forget where the professionals are. I heard my rating and stopped listening. I'm excited to warrant a rating!

I was told by my therapist today that I need to start caring for my body like an athlete does, because I am an athlete now. Whoa! Also, I told her that I realized all those spots on my glasses are not water spots but scratches, and that I never got a new pair because my prescription hasn't changed, but I realized that I have had this pair for SIX YEARS at least! She agreed- it's time for new glasses. "This is like the bra thing," she said. Yep. Ok. Time for new glasses. And I have eye insurance! I can get new glasses!

I started wearing the sensor again today- it took a bit to recoordinate that. I learned why you have to make sure your blood sugar is steady before you start it- it was way off all day. I was too low for tennis, so I loaded up on some carbs and watched the sensor. I went up a little, but flattened out around 170, which was fine- it should have been great for the last half hour. It should have started coming down and then I would be at a perfect level for dinner. Instead, at the end of the lesson, I was higher. It seemed like one of the mysteries of daily diabeetus until I remembered how Sarah's husband is always emphasizing that point and I remembered that I had been low a little while before Sarah put the sensor on for me. Aha. So I wasn't actually around 170- I was way too high, above 240. Normally, exercise makes your blood sugar go down, but when your blood sugar is above 240, your body is functioning differently, and exercise will drive your blood sugar up. I was talking to a nurse I work with about that a few months ago, and that made total sense to her. I am not a nurse, so I just remember that number and try to avoid reaching that point at all, and I rest when it's above that point.

I just consulted them, and was told the best thing to do is turn it off and start over in the morning- treat it like a new sensor. Good grief. Sometimes I forget that I'm a walking medical supply store, and that this is actually pretty damn difficult. If we weren't all choosing food related names for our kickball jerseys, I would go with Bionica.

Per Tracy's request

There are so many things, Tracy...

On Sunday we had our first kickball practice. You know I was pretty anxious about that- almost as anxious as softball, but this was fun! Of course, the games may change my mind, but the practice was fun and I was not scared to catch the ball. That sounds ridiculous, but you go play softball and then come talk to me. I felt a lot more involved in the plays and I wasn't hesitating to cover second. We all (the five of us that showed up) tried pitching, and right now I am second in the running. On one return, Sarah threw the ball to me without knowing there was a stowaway, and I got a goat head in the hand.

Yes, they are as demonic as they look.

Us Nevadans giggle when people talk about how awful it is to step on a LEGO. But hey, my first kickball injury! Let's hope that's the worst of it.

So today at work I ran into a guy who referees where we're playing, and I told him I had moved on from softball. We talked for a moment and the subject of getting beaned in the head came up. He told me that yes, the other team can peg you with a ball while you're running to base. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I told him if that was the case, I would be doing some Matrix shit out there, and if you can't do that in softball, why the hell can you do that in kickball. The only rule is no headshots. That's lovely. "Well, I didn't MEAN to aim for her head..." Then he told me that was a good point and he had an umpire's meeting that night and would bring it up. Jesus Christ, I'd prefer every ball had a goat head pre-loaded over getting hit in the head with a dodgeball. There would be hurt and shock AND flashbacks from elementary school. Dear god.

The class I'm teaching is going well. Tomorrow we're going to play a game of Jeopardy that my coworker and I customized as a curriculum review. We're halfway through! The questions are sorted into the following categories: Math terms, Homonyms/almost homonyms, Pin the apostrophe, Fixits, and Potpourri. That's gonna be fun.

The class I'm taking is chugging along. We're all working on projects and had to give a short presentation on where things stand. I found a great template that was set up like a newspaper and entertained myself fully with headlines like "Supervisor Busy, Employees Complain." It went over reasonably well, despite the fact that I had not rehearsed it more than once. My fellow students were kind, and even though the real presentation will be in August, I have been working on it.

I was too busy preparing my presentation for the class I'm supporting. I did another 45 minute writing presentation, and I adore that group. They make me feel very welcome, and they were very receptive to the information I gave them. I was hoping they would be as blown away by the information as their instructor and I were, and they informed me that I had indeed dropped a bomb. What was cool was that they were reacting to the first part, and I had more informational bombs to drop. That was neat.

Also last week, I heard from someone who was not happy with my observations about her writing a couple years ago. She told me that she was really looking forward to hearing my feedback now, and that she held my opinion up high in these areas. That just killed me, and I will be carrying that around for years.

I'm still playing tennis twice a week as long as the weather's good, and Ant wants to come with me so he can skate and then we'll go get dinner together. It's an out of the way park for him, so that's certainly a benefit, but he's been contacting me to meet up lately, checking in and making plans. I sprung mini golf on him last week, and we had a good time.

After mini golf, we went to El Pollo Loco and discussed how insane I was for not liking it years ago. Then we drove to Midtown to try to get to some horrendously diabetes-inducing ice cream shop before it closed, but we didn't make it.

Tomorrow is another kickball practice, Ant and I are going to try to meet up for tennis/skating on Thursday, and Friday I'm joining some friends at a Zumba class. I'm also doing my yoga DVD here and there and going for walks at work. Any upcoming weight loss could be due to all this activity or the fact that I barely have time to eat anything.

Rest assured, my apartment is a mess. I think I'll have time to do laundry tomorrow night and I need to shop for a memory foam mattress topper to ease my hip pain and a new, less scuzzy insurance agent to allay my rage. I've heard from a neighbor that rent went way up, so now I need to start doing some math and apartment searches just in case. For now I'm going to run around and do a quick sweep in case the police have to show up and refer to me as the hoarder cat lady. Then I will turn on a Sherlock Holmes episode and try to cuddle with Solo for as long as possible before I fall asleep.

Be our guest

Sarah texted me the other day, telling me she'd found a really nice futon at the thrift store. She said it was in really nice shape and looked like it had been kept in someone's spare room- hardly ever used. She sent me a picture of her husband flopping on it. He wanted to make sure it was a good piece of furniture.

This was Mom's idea so that I wouldn't have to give up my living room when I have guests. I don't mind that, but it is a pain in the ass to have to take apart and remake the couch every day. When Ant lived here, he would leave the sheets on the couch through the week and only take them off and put my couch back together on Fridays so that I could have my living room for the weekend.

This find saved me a trip to IKEA and a whole bunch of money, though to be honest, I think three of my friends and I were all looking forward to spending a whole bunch of money at IKEA. That's alright- I'm sure we'll go anyway.

It is a very nice futon. The mattress is thick and the frame is sturdy AND it has drawers underneath. I'm hoping to host a couple guests soon and I also wanted to make sure I had a reasonable place for Ant if he needs a place to stay. It's clean and it's nice and she got this thing for $35. I thought I was pretty good at finding deals, but Sarah is amazing.

Now all I need is a bigger place. No, Mom, I am not moving that bookshelf. At least, I don't plan to for now. I am cleaning up and eyeing the current state and seeing what I can rearrange. I love a puzzle, but I think I may have finally smushed as much as humanly possible in here. 

As long as you don't need anything on the bottom shelf, it's fine.

The futon has been tested and approved.

Yes, I am adorable, and yes, Jenny will be covering the mattress to protect it against cat presents.

Yo yo effect

This was a long day.

It started sometime last night when I somehow suspended my pump. I've never done that while asleep before, but I'm always learning new things about having an external pancreas. I figured it out at 4, when I woke up from dire thirst and an equally dire urge to pee. Once awake, the nausea kicked in. I turned the pump back on, tested, gave myself a bolus, and sipped water for about a half hour until I felt better. Judging from the nausea, I was in ketoacidosis, but there isn't much to do other than water, insulin and rest unless you're throwing up and can't keep water down.

I got up on time but moved slow, because that crap takes a toll on you. Today was the workforce development program, and I had the lesson plan, so I was definitely going in. The roads were icy and I was too late for a good parking spot, so I parked in the neighborhood and hauled my butt to class with four bags. One of those was a lunch bag, and I need to give up that ghost on class days, because I already have plenty to carry.

Class was four hours, then a quick lunch with a friend and then a meeting for some essay editing for the level 2 class, then right to another meeting with my level 3 classmate, then go find my stuff and meet my coworker who delivered some news about an ominous meeting that is probably going to derail work life as we know it.

I dragged myself to the grocery store and forced myself to clean out the car while it was light outside and then picked up in the house a bit. Then I watched Magic Mike. I'm so glad I did, because that picked my mood up. Yes, because dudes. But also because it was a cute movie and I even enjoyed the predictable plot. Matthew McConaughey is an oddball, but he is dedicated. And good grief, Channing can dance.

So I was feeling sane again and sang for a while, and then I got a text from the guy I went out with last night and had to send him a rejection letter in return. It felt really shitty, probably the hardest one yet, because he was a really sweet, kind, cool guy. And no, that's not enough. It feels really shitty to me that that's not enough, but I know that when it's right, it's gonna feel right.

I have this friend at work who does not want to make plans to get together outside of work. This is difficult for me, because she's awesome and I just don't know how to be friends with someone in a limited capacity like that. Today I explained that and told her that I would respect her line and stop pestering, but to know that it is a blanket invitation. She told me not to stop asking, and that it gets easier as her kids get older, and told me that if she was going to meet up with anyone from work, she would want it to be me. That was my really nice moment today.

Fasillytation

I have finished a book!

It was an actual book- not an audio book. I mean, I know those count, but it was nice to sit in the quiet for a couple hours. I was about to donate that sucker. I recently rearranged my furniture again (shocking, I know) and shuffled some books around. I have bookmarks in books that I haven't picked up in years. I took most of those out and put them back on the (now 3) waiting-to-be-read shelves.

I'm starting to wonder what I'm doing with all my time. There are all these big projects that will admittedly take a while, but what progress am I making? There are things I want to do daily, and I try to set intentions, but I should remind myself that that's a relatively new thing, and I will just have to get better at it.

Last week I played tennis for the first time in what might be two months. It was fantastic. We started with our regular warm up, and I was hitting the ball mostly where I wanted it to go, using some control and some speed. We rallied a little bit, and then my coach added a loop to my swing.

I don't know if you know this, but tennis players have a loop in their swing. I have never had one. Every time I have tried, I couldn't get the timing down. I am really fortunate with my coach- he is giving me focused, one-on-one instruction that I've never had on anything. He broke it down into steps and we practiced those as we had slowed the film down to see it frame by frame. He had names for the steps and ways to think about them. He was patient when I had to stop, close my eyes, and think very hard about connecting and timing those movements.

Mom, I think you were just talking about all the different elements and techniques and trying to incorporate them all together. That IS the hard part. You extend your arm and forget to point your feet the right way. You put spin on the ball but forget to finish the swing over your shoulder. With this series of movements, all of them needed to come together right then, and I had to stop several times during the slo mo lessons to focus on sending an unmuddled directive from my brain to my body.

This was an exciting moment for me- an exciting lesson, but at first I was hitting balls all over the place. Some into the other courts, many into the net, almost sent a few over the fence, had mis-hits galore, I hit some into myself and some I missed entirely. That part felt very bad. I was embarrassed that I seemed relatively competent when I started, but had descended into a tennis version of Atari's Combat, with balls bouncing off all walls and spinning me in place.

But then I'd almost time one right. Then back to nonsense. Then another, and more nonsense. Then I'd catch one just right, but hit it into the net. "That's exactly right!" he'd yell. "Ignore that one- keep going!" Eventually I caught more like that- just solid- and Evan would show his approval with a fist pump. He was proud and so was I. I am delighted to have a loop!

This lesson has been buoying me for the last several days. I keep going back to it, thinking about how you have to be willing to look like a nut to improve. This applies in all areas, and I am so glad that I am willing to do that. Bring on the aerial yoga.

If three... hundred people say you are an ass...

Last night, I had several friends over for dinner. We had mini meatloaves and mashed potatoes and lots of raw veggies and a good amount of beer. The DD and I herded the other three out the door and she drove us to meet up with other friends at a bowling alley. The wait list was long, and there was no way we were going to get two lanes together anyway, so we went to the pool hall next door.

Most of us had been there before and knew that the owner is not known as the kindest person on earth, but our own run-ins with him had been uneventful. Last night though, he seemed immediately aggravated by our presence and made it clear. He was harping on us nonstop, though we were buying drinks and pool games. We shook it all off, acknowledging what was fair, adjusting to his rules, and resuming our evening. Some of us knew pool table etiquette, some did not, and some were too drunk to worry about it. The problem we had was not with him correcting us, but with his serious lack of communication skills, and his level of scrutiny towards our table bordered on harassment.

Our DD started feeling ill, so her fiancée decided to go across the street to the drug store for some Tums. I went along to find a granola bar or something small to help keep my blood sugar on a good course. When we came back in, he pounced. I was informed by his bar back that I could not eat that package of four crackers inside his establishment. I tried to explain why I was eating them, but was immediately shut down, so I walked outside and my fellow diabetic friend who knows the owner went to go talk to him. The owner told my friend that if the food was for diabetes, then I should be acting more like it was an emergency. My friend tried to explain that it was to avoid an emergency, but the dude just ignored him. I came back in to find everyone packing up. "Fuck this," Sarah told me. "That's not right."

Most of us had paid as we went along, but one friend had a tab running. When the owner went to close it out, he realized that he had accidentally given her card to another customer.

Now, this is the point where everything could have been fine. He was wrong about the crackers, as Sarah immediately referenced from the ADA (not that he would acknowledge her), but he was within his rights to ask us to follow his many rules, even if he was a dick about it. We understood that the card thing was an accident, but we did find it a bit amusing that he could be so meticulous about his rules, but not meticulous about the money. What was appalling is that he did not apologize or attempt to make it right. My friend expressed some serious displeasure as she called her bank. Then he told her that it would be a mistake to leave without paying her tab.

"With WHAT!" she asked him.
"You have lots of friends," he said, and implied that he would call the cops if she didn't pay up. This didn't phase her, as she is a former cop, and she encouraged him to call. She also suggested he run the other person's card. She did pay her tab with cash and voided the other person's charge on her card before canceling it. That bill was a lot more than hers, and he probably won't get paid for that one. I admired the way that she handled it though- some of us were pretty fired up. We all had different ideas about how it should have been resolved and I'm sure you do too, but she was cool and composed and did what she felt was right.

We finished our evening elsewhere and this morning (yes, morning, but barely), all eight of us met for breakfast. Sarah's husband told us about a time when he made that same mistake as a bartender. The difference, of course, was in how he handled it. He immediately explained to the customer what happened, apologized, and explained that he would immediately get the manager. The manager acknowledged the PITA of having to cancel the card and waived their bill, also apologizing for the trouble. He said the customer left with a smile on their face. I don't know why the owner of that pool hall is such an asshole, but his behavior is well documented online. Some of my friends think everyone ought to be warned away from this place, but I think he does that well enough on his own. There are some positive reviews, but I think those people are the same as we were when we walked in last night- they just haven't seen it firsthand yet.

What's funny is that even with that shitty encounter, we all had a great time. We laughed a lot and this outing further bonded friends from different worlds. It was awesome to see them connect and have fun together. We all got along beautifully and tried to meet the grumpy guy's rules, but when I was banished with my crackers, they collectively roared. I felt very loved in that moment, and not just because I was lit. I'm still struck by that, and the same way we all roared when that asshat suggested our friend was trying to skip out on her bill after he gave away her damn card.

The first thing she said this morning when we met up outside the restaurant was, "Well, I think we all know that I'm not paying!"

We went in and ate delicious breakfasts and shared food and laughed, and all of us enjoyed, appreciated, and relayed our appreciation to our awesome waitress for her fantastic customer service.

Found treasure

I am glad this was here the whole time.