GrigioGirl

Sometimes, when we’ve done a little too much exercising indoors or on the stoop, Live Longer and I go outside – into the wilderness – for an organic workout.

 

We did this the other day and we were pleasantly surprised to see both the sun in the morning (who knew it rises in the east?) and our city (who knew the smog would lift and we would no longer think we were in China?).

 

Live Longer was ready to tackle the mountain.

 

“I’ve got a fanny pack with two bottles of water, four tissues, some almonds, and calcium supplements.”

 

This is why she will live longer than others – she is always ever ready with the most important essentials.

 

“I have my phone,” I replied.

 

As we hiked the trail – sans wine in our hands, thus, not a full workout – Live Longer started to break a sweat.

 

“Natural exercise is my preferred method,” she told me while we paused for a minute to catch our breath and decided we should try an organic wine soon.

 

We continued to make our way up the trail, snapping pictures along the way to document the activity in the event we are ever accused of not hiking.

 

Our motivation was strong – primarily because we knew mimosas and Rated R were ready for us as soon as we were done.

 

After nearly 90 minutes on the trail we made our way back to the parking lot where we assessed the situation.

 

The hike was good, water use was minimal, three tissues remained, no almonds or supplements were consumed, my phone was almost dead, nobody broke into my car, and we were only thirty minutes late to brunch.

 

Not too shabby for two girls who just took up hiking.

Unfazed and That’s Not Chinese have decided to get married. This is a pretty big deal for them and making the wedding plans has, so far, been fun.

 

They aren’t too sure about a location yet, so I recommended my back 40.

 

“It’s big, there’s plenty of parking and, if you get married between 6:45 AM – 7:45 AM on Thursdays, any time between May 28 and September 10, there is a river that runs through it. Very romantic,” I advised.

 

“A river?” Unfazed asked, interested, but not fazed.

 

“Yes, irrigation water,” I replied and added, “I can also see if the water master will run it a little longer the morning of the wedding, just in case you’re running late.

 

“6:45 in the morning?!?!” That’s Not Chinese, totally fazed, asked.

 

“Yes, that’s when the ‘water feature’ is scheduled this year. It’s a nice option. Besides, you know what Ben Franklin once said…” I replied.

 

That’s Not Chinese knows I know what Ben Franklin once said because while she was checking out library books about Africa I was stocking up on Poor Richard’s autobiographies.

 

“What did he say?” she asked.

 

“Early to bed, early to wed,” I replied.

 

I could tell she wasn’t sold on this idea or idiom, but I didn’t mind because I was already constructing a business plan for quick weddings with water features. Next on my agenda, a business name. Perhaps ‘Blood is Thicker than Irrigation Water’ or ‘Ebbs and Flows Marital Vows.’ Regardless, the concept and venue is sure to be a big hit.

BeCuz loves a good pair of heels.

 

“I wear them all the time,” she told That’s Not Chinese, Unfazed and I as she threw one of her high heeled feet on top of the table at a patio restaurant.

 

“I appreciate that you felt the need to place the heel on the table as opposed to just pointing it out,” I replied.

 

“You’re welcome,” she proudly expressed, as if she just granted us a lifesaving favor. “Heels are amazing. They really have the power to make you look extraordinary.”

 

She went on to tell us about a coworker who regularly wears very high heels to work on Fridays.

 

“It’s not fair because, in addition to the heels, they wear super cute jeans,” she told us and added, “The best part is he is married to a woman and has kids.”

 

“Really? So he makes casual Friday a little more formal?” I asked.

 

“Definitely,” BeCuz confirmed. “And he’s already tall; he’s at least 6’2″ without the heels.”

 

Unfazed, That’s Not Chinese and I were all in favor of his formal casual Friday attire – he completely trumps the coworker who shows up in an old concert t-shirt and pajama bottoms (an outfit not always reserved for casual Friday).

 

We were all a little curious about his role in her department

 

“IT,” BeCuz nonchalantly advised.

 

“I believe you mean LGBiT,” I, also nonchalantly, advised.

That’s Not Chinese, Unfazed, Spider Bite and I decided to attend a vintage market. We didn’t have any major purchases in mind, rather, just wanted to check out the goods.

 

As we walked around the market we realized that, with a table saw and a couple of glasses of wine, we could make our own repurposed vintage goods.

 

We also realized that if you want to be in a fashion show, all you have to do is get in line.

 

On the second floor of the market a fashion show was taking place. The fashion wasn’t solely vintage. In fact, it was a bit of a mixed bag of styles. As we got closer to the stage, we found that we were, essentially, in the line for the fashion show.

 

“Should we just stay in the line and rock our style on stage?” I asked Unfazed.

 

“You should,” she replied.

 

I maintained my position in line and had Unfazed snap a quick photo – if you can’t be in the fashion show you should at least be in the fashion line-up.

I’m not superstitious, nor am I repetitious. So, instead of writing about Friday the 13th, again, I thought I’d share a post with you from many Friday the 13th’s ago:

 

Friggatriskaidekaphobia

 

Disclaimer: Those with triskaidekaphobia should proceed with caution.

The other day, when walking, wine-ing and shopping with That’s Not Chinese, I realized something that could have changed our experience entirely: I didn’t have any forms of payment with me.

 

What I did have, however, was my library card and ID. According to Awkward’s daughter, these are all I need to get anywhere – to include in and out of countries.

 

One day, when Tree, Awkward, Awkward’s daughter and I were at lunch I informed them they needed to get passports so we could travel to Mexico within this next year. Tree was sure passports weren’t required.

 

I assured him passports were, in fact, required in Mexico, Canada and pretty much any country that isn’t the country in which one resides.

 

“Couldn’t you just show them (Customs) something with your name on it? Like, your library card?” Awkward’s daughter asked.

 

She makes a fair point. In some places getting a library card is just as difficult as obtaining a passport. And, with your library card and a vivid imagination you can virtually read/imagine yourself anywhere.

 

“She’s so cute,” Awkward said with the sweet smile of a proud parent.

 

Fast forward to shopping with That’s Not Chinese and, although I used my library card to obtain knowledge about loos, Benjamin Franklin and access to a few good 80s movies, it would not be able to provide payment for my groceries.

 

“Any chance you can pay for my groceries?” I asked That’s Not Chinese and added, “It’s only $25.”

 

“Fine,” she replied and swiped her debit card.

 

“Do you mind getting $25 cash back so I can pay you back?” I asked.

 

Sadly, she didn’t fall for it – must have been the library book on simple mathematics that made her so smart.

Over the last few months I’ve been consuming a lot of eggs. I’m not on a high protein diet and I don’t own a chicken named Colin. Rather, I’ve been spending a wee bit of time in the Sky Club and in hotels with continental breakfast specials where hard boiled eggs are the soup du jour. And, on occasion, Live Longer and I will purchase a dozen deviled eggs to down after a good workout (of wine).

 

Many may think that hard boiling an egg to perfection is simple work. Those ‘many’ should think again. There is a reason they call it hard boiling – it isn’t always easy.

 

This morning when I put my nine room temperature eggs in the pot and began the boiling process I immediately noticed one egg had really risen to the occasion. Unlike the other eggs who simply relaxed in their non-stick non-bubble bath, this egg floated to the top. I knew this egg was going to be different.

 

Once the boiling began I turned off the heat and left the eggs to harden in the warm water. Sounds easy, but it isn’t. One can easily forget they’re boiling eggs and the next thing you know they’re making sulfur souffles.

 

Ten-twelve minutes later I returned to the kitchen to find the egg that had stood out in the beginning was, once again, standing out.

 

This egg had a few cracks in her foundation but, after a non-shampoo set in the non-stick non-bubble bath, she looked like she was ready for a fancy party. To compliment her sunnyside updo, I drew some eyes ad lipstick on her, gave her a pearl earring – because everyone knows pearls equal classy, and she was ready for an eggstra special occasion: an Instagram post; perhaps even Facebook and Twitter.

 

 

As one can imagine, the responses were eggstraordinary!

 

“She’s a good egg!”

 

“Looks like you had an eggsplosion.”

 

“She’s a crack up!”

 

“She’s got a bit of egg on her face.”

 

“Just thinking of the sunny side of things.”

 

“I can’t stop! I’m possessed by the Devil’d egg!”

 

“Keep shelling them out.”

 

“Seriously though, I can take it, I haven’t reached my boiling point.”

 

“You’d have to do a lot of bEGGing to make me stop.”

 

“She’s a hard egg to crack.”

 

“Its a classic eggcessory.”

 

“Eggspress yourself.”

 

“If others don’t like this, they can beat it.”

 

“Some say self-eggspression is for the birds; I’d have to agree.”

 

“You are on quite the egg roll.”

 

“Please eggscuse me for a moment. I’m hungry for breakfast.”

 

“One yolk leads to another.”

 

“I may have to eggsit this conversation for a minute. I’m fried.”

 

One frequent responder (Live Longer) lamented, “I can’t help myself, I’m a bad egg.” Then added, “Thinking up egg puns is eggshausting!”

 

For me, the thing I liked best about this egg is that instead of leaning in, she stood up and out, even when her foundation was slightly cracked and things could have been pretty scrambled.

A while ago I was out and about when Live Longer invited me to go to an impromptu Pilates class with her.

 

I was wearing jeans and nowhere near home so I stopped and purchased a pair of cotton pants that I thought would be perfect because they were baggy and had a drawstring waist – lots of room for movement.

 

Once on my body, however, they weren’t so baggy. I didn’t let this get in the way of my workout nor did I let it get in the way of my outfit selections.

 

When That’s Not Chinese invited me to join her and Unfazed for lunch at the pub I quickly changed out of my pajamas and threw on the non-baggy drawstrings.

 

“Totally saw you coming in those pants,” That’s Not Chinese told me as I walked towards the table.

 

Unfazed glanced over, said “Yep,” then continued drinking her beer.

 

We had a few drinks and a bite to eat then headed to the restaurant next door so I could grab food to take with me to Rated R’s house.

 

Due to the 20-minute wait, we decided to grab a drink at the bar and, because of state liquor laws, we had to eat again. My pants were working overtime but it was worth it because I was drinking a vintage chilled wine, Riunite Lambrusco.

 

Somehow, That’s Not Chinese has never had or heard of Riunite. Inconceivable. It’s hard to stay middle classy if you’re not drinking America’s best loved imported wine.

 

“Riunite on ice, that’s nice,” I told her while sipping my non-iced wine cooler in a fancy glass.

 

“Reunited and it feels so good,” That’s Not Chinese said while raising her glass for a toast.

 

I finally made it to Rated R’s house where more drinks and, of course, more food were enjoyed.

 

By the end of the night I was spent and so were my pants. As I lounged on Rated R’s couch, one leg hanging off the couch and the other resting on the back cushions, she looked at my crouch and started laughing.

 

Somehow – between the pub, the restaurant and the house – the crotch seam had ripped.

 

Unlike That’s Not Chinese, Rated R and I did not see this coming.

 

“Oops – peek-a-boo! It’s a good thing I’m wearing underwear today,” I told her then looked down to make sure I was actually wearing underwear.

 

Staying middle classy is easy for this lassie.

Recent studies have indicated that having one glass of red wine is the equivalent of one hour at the gym.

 

If that’s true, I’m pretty sure I’ve been doing liquid CrossFit.

 

Based on everything I’ve been reading about CrossFit, my friends and I are the spitting image of good health.

 

Optimized movements and spontaneous community gatherings define my friends and I to a T – we regularly gather spontaneously and each movement we make is optimized.

 

Just yesterday I air squatted a bit when trying to reach a top-shelf boxed wine.

 

Then, when I got distracted by the mid-shelf Riunite and accidentally dropped the Franzia, I did a quick box jump.

 

I opted against purchasing the box when I saw a really good case of malbec on the floor. One deadlift later and the case of malbec was in my cart.

 

Once I got home, and had a few glasses of wine, I was hollow rocking like a pro. In fact, if any of my law enforcement friends were to stop by they’d probably request I do the knees to elbows, aka, CrossFit sobriety test.

 

At which point, I would walking lunge my way to bed. Or, I’d just lay there and give them an opportunity to do the deadlift. Either way, we’d both get a good workout.

 

Thank you scientists. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some ‘exercise’ to do.