Happy Anniversary

Today we celebrated our 17th anniversary by heading up to Julian with Kivah for pie at the Julian Pie Company.  Caramel Dutch Apple for Scott and Boysenberry Apple for me.  We split a side of cinnamon ice cream on top.

We walked around Julian a bit, Kivah got to make googly eyes at lots of friendly people, and we found out dogs aren't allowed in the cemetery   No word on cats though...

We decided to drive home back the way we came instead of through Ramona like we usually do for two reasons.  One, there have been lots of deadly accidents on the tail end of the road out of Ramona and there's no way to leave except on that road so I'm a little spooked right now.  And two, there's an outlet mall on the Viejas Reservation that we never go to because it's far but it was on the way home.

(Also, on the winding road out of Julian we saw tons of deer, wild turkeys, and a turkey vulture!)

To tell the truth, we were missing much by not going for like 10 years.  The only cool store, the Black and Decker outlet, is gone.  Everything else is typical outlet mall shop except for Christy's Toy Outlet with all kinds of stuff.  While Kivah and I waited for Scott to use the restroom I spotted an Eeyore Pillow Pet in the window.  I do loves me some Eeyore!  When I went in the bathroom Scott found out the price and when I came back he bought it for me :)  The good news is it was a true outlet and we paid less than Pillow Pet or Amazon charges.

After that we headed back to town and stopped at Sonic Drive In in Santee for dinner.  I wrote up this little description and posted it with a picture on Scott's Facebook.

The first week in June 2000 Scott and I were driving cross country (me back home, Scott to some city he had to find on a map the first time I mentioned it) in the biggest truck Hertz had and our Jeep on a trailer. Our anniversary fell on a Wednesday and we were in Santa Fe, New Mexico. We left our Pug Luckey and our guinea pig Noble in our room at the Motel 6 and wandered around to find some place "special" to eat. We ended up at a Sonic Drive In. 13 years later we celebrated at Sonic again, this time in Santee, and with our new Pug Kivah. 17 years have passed so quickly with my best friend. To quote Dave Matthews Band: "You and me together, we can do anything" 

Cheese cheese tater tots!!!

Scott and I eloped so we sent out announcements after the fact and included the words from this song from The Nightmare before Christmas:

The Climbing Comp

May 11th I volunteered to help with the youth climbing comp at Mesa Rim.  They stated if you volunteered the full 10hour day you'd get a free month of membership.  I'm game for free stuff so I sent an email volunteering for the whole day and got a reply to show up at 7 am Saturday.

A few days later an email went out to every volunteer with the hours they'd be required to work.  Next to my name it said AM, meaning only 7 am - 1:30 pm (and no free month), instead I'd be given day passes at the rate of 1 per 90 minutes of service (approximately 4 passes).  At the bottom of the email it said they still needed volunteers.  I was confused, why were they not accepting a full day of service from me but then still asking for volunteers?  I emailed the coordinator, Paul, and got no reply.  I called Mesa Rim and asked to speak to Paul and was told to email him, which I did again and got no reply.

I showed up at 6:55 am and headed inside with my climbing gear (which Paul requested).  I saw Paul, asked him if he got my email and he said "didn't I reply to you?"  Would I be asking if you had?  I treated myself to the bagels and cream cheese they brought and then learned how to be a judge.  Oh, the responsibility!  I'd never been a judge before, let alone participated in a climbing competition (I get nervous when I know people other than Scott are even watching me climb).

The judging was easy and I wouldn't be responsible for scoring, just marking the highest hold held in control, if they tried to move towards the next when/if they fell and if they got a hand on the next hold when they fell.  The route I was judging was a lead climb route with 45 holds and 10 clip in points.  After the first couple of climbers, and some consultations with my belayer, I got the hang of judging and settled in.

At the midday point I helped time the speed competition until I was relieved for free lunch (see my previous post of that--Extreme Pita) and then bouldered for about 30 minutes.  Some of the boulder routes were dated from mid-April but I wonder if that meant April of 2012 because the holds were so dirty they were black and slick with shoe rubber.  Mesa Rim's boulder area is just ok.  They have more angles than my home gym but no true cave area which is really what I want to get better at.

After that I called Scott to check in and find out what Kivah was doing.  Then got my assignment for the afternoon competition and then at 3:30 pm was told they didn't need me to stay until 5 pm so I should go home.  I was really bummed because I wouldn't be getting the full month membership but was assured I'd be getting 6 day passes.  It's quite a come down from thinking you're going to be getting basically 31 days of climbing and unlimited yoga to 6 day passes because the coordinator won't let you stay 90 minutes longer to help out.

All I can think of is that they wanted to give the free month to people who were already members and not just Multi Pass holders like myself which is fine, I just wish they would have said at the outset that "preference will be give to Mesa Rim members."  That way I would have just volunteered for the afternoon and not have had to get up at 5 in the morning.  As compensation I took four organic bananas from the two large boxes at the front and I ate an orange.

It did seem that the people in charge weren't as prepared as the volunteers and most of the info was given on a 'need to know' basis.  In the morning I was told what route I would be judging for the morning.  Later we were given our route assignments for the afternoon.  Mine was the same route, just different kids.  Why didn't the coordinator just say at 7 am that I'd be judging the same route all day?  The Official Climbing USA folks were conflicted on whether we'd be judging on 'movement' and 'usable surface' and said at first no, we were not and then changed it all when the judging forms were brought out and we were given a crash course on what that meant by some of the other volunteers, not the Climbing USA folks.

The one thing I thought was amazing was how quickly the volunteers worked together to take all the competition things down, with hardly any direction from the coordinators.  As soon as one person starting pulling up colored tape on the ground everyone pitched in and the floor was clean in no time.  The chairs got folded up and put away in a blink of an eye.  The cones and curtains set up to keep parents in the spectator areas were cleaned up fast, opening the areas back up to the public.  I found that really impressive how all the volunteers pitched together and cleaned everything up so fast (and yes, I helped too).

Somehow I ended up in a lot of the photos that Mesa Rim put up so here they are:

Center but on the right hand side getting a climber to sign his sheet.

The judging board with a photo of the route and all holds and clips numbered.

Following a climber with my hand against the judging board.

Waiting for the climber to start.

Can't miss me!

Name Game--to change or not to change

I have been married to Scott for 17 years this June.  I did not take his last name.

My last name is no walk in the park--three syllables, constant issues on where to put the emphasis, Evil Knievel jokes, Cape Canaveral jokes... (Ha, ha, you're so funny I forgot to laugh.)  But people still seems to pronounce his two syllable name wrong so it's not like I was upgrading to something easier like Smith.  Also, I wouldn't be moving up in the alphabet since he's an H and I'm a K.

His family wasn't all that nice to me either at the beginning, though they have gotten better, but I didn't want to condone their treatment of me by becoming one of them.  I know this worsened their opinion of me but at least I wasn't one of them. 

As far as I know, my last name has no real historical significance other than a hand surgeon having a technique named after him.  My father was a terrible father and husband and not that great of a person either but I guess he learned that from his father.  Keeping my last name certainly isn't because I am perpetuating greatness.

My husband's last name is unusual on the west coast but more common in his home state and in Hungary it's like Smith or Johnson.  There was even a Heisman trophy winner in the 40's with his last name but they're not related--though college football buffs recognize the name and ask if he is.  The only standout historical things about my husband's family is that his grandfather ran moonshine and threw a priest out of a screen door after the priest. 

When we got married I didn't really want to change my name.  Taking my husband's last name seemed like becoming a new person that no one knew, least of all me.  In all the marriages in my family the wife had changed her name and then either divorced or lived unhappily ever after (one of my aunts divorced twice and married for a third time, with the unhappily ever after, and changed her name every time).  I asked my husband if he'd change his last name to mine and he said no, which I anticipated and didn't hurt my feelings, but also helped solidify my decision of keeping my name. 

The only time it becomes an issue is when we get mail or are addressed collectively.  Scott's mom now just addresses things to us as "Scott and Polly" but Scott's dad insists that my last name is Scott's and it pisses me off so much.  After 17 years he still doesn't get it and doesn't care to get my name right.  I have asked Scott to speak to him many times about this, and he has a few times, but his dad continues.  His dad has the ability to be accidentally rude and thoughtless and mean, apologize for it, and do it all over again.

Then, because other family members go to his dad for our mailing address, we get more mail addressed incorrectly.  When you address a letter to Mr. & Mrs. John Smith the man gets his first and last name listed while his wife and her identity is reduced to "Mrs." and I know that's proper etiquette, it also seems chauvinistic.  You take a woman, her life, her identity, her triumphs and accomplishments, her entire being and distill it down to "Mrs." and it just seems wrong!

When I respond to wedding invitations from Scott's family I make sure to write his full name and my full name so they understand we have different last names.  It may be passive aggressive, but being upfront and saying I didn't change my name hasn't worked either so I don't know what do anymore.

At my husband's work some people like to address us together when they see us with the pluralization of Scott's last name ("hey there Johnsons*" *name has been changed).  Most of them just don't know any better.  One of the interns knew my last name was different but didn't know what it was so he just called me Mrs. Scott, which I thought was cute.  When Scott RSVP's for anything at work he always makes sure to include my first and last name, which I appreciate. 

There was an incident at a tournament a few years that I caught a couple days before attending where my credential badge was listed as my first name and Scott's last name.  I called the tournament office and told them and since they were checking ID's against the badges they probably wouldn't have given me my badge so it was a good thing that I called. 

I understand why a woman would change her last name to her husband's, or vice versa, especially if they have children.  It does make it easier and makes the family seems more like a unit.  We're never going to have children so we don't have to worry about things like that. 

Scott and I are just Scott and I; no last names, just us two and our pets, strolling through life together, holding hands as always.

If I had a superpower

Mine would be the ability to do this:

When people do this:

or this:

 

or this:

 

or this:

or this:

 

or don't do this:

And why, by the way, is this true?

Differences between motorists cutting each other off and pedestrians cutting each other off

Yelp review: Extreme Pita

I Yelp on occasion.  Here's my review of Extreme Pita on Mira Mesa Blvd in San Diego.  (They catered the SCS 2013 Divisional Championships at Mesa Rim that I volunteered for.)


I was at an event that these people catered.  They brought 4 kinds of pitas:  turkey, chicken Caesar, falafel and veggie.  I chose the turkey but save for 4 piddly slices of pre-packaged deli meat they might as well have call it  the 'veggie'.

My pita consisted of giant hunks of lettuce, the kind you'd cut up if you were eating a salad, greenish-red tomato slices, shredded yellow-orange cheese cucumbers (English cucumbers I think) and tiny pieces of bell peppers.  The last two items fall under the Jeopardy heading of "Things I never put on my Sandwiches" with olives, jalapenos, and banana peppers rounding out the category.

The pita was about 8" and seemed big and I was hoping it would be filled like a Chipotle burrito but alas, it was mostly lettuce.   It fell apart on me after a few bites so I rearranged everything, picked out the cucumbers and bell peppers, giant chunks of lettuce and some the cheese, tore off half the remaining pita and rewrapped it to finish it.

Overall I'm going to add Extreme Pita to my "food I would eat but not pay for" list



8 inches of  turkey pita meh

Yelp review: Extreme Pita

Bad Yoga Instructors

I don't know much about becoming a yoga instructor other than the certifications require a certain amount of hours to obtain them.  But I do know about bad yoga instructors.

Just because you've put in XX amount of hours in a studio doesn't make you a good yoga instructor.  Just because you can contort and pretzel your body, bind in ways that seem impossible, and do downward dog with your heels and forehead touching the ground that doesn't make you a good yoga instructor.  Ugh, it ruins my zen just thinking about it.

If you've ever been to an exercise class you know that the people that generally know what's going on hang out near the front and the ones that aren't so sure hang out towards the back.  Well, yesterday I attended a yoga class I've never been to before and took a place in the back just because.  I've been practicing for 10+ years but only in group class and almost always at my gym.  I'm by no means a yogi, but I do know what a bad instructor is.

This particular instructor spent the first 25 minutes of the class on her mat in the front doing the poses with us but never giving additional hints on how to do them properly.  When she did eventually move from her mat and walk around the room she didn't bother to help the people that needed it the most.  There were a few people hanging out in the back that had no clue what was going on and she never once approached them.  It irritates me because then those people will leave the class thinking they've done yoga and they've done nothing other than poorly executed calisthenics. 

What I would've have loved to say to the instructor: "just because you can do the poses doesn't mean you can teach them.  Please help all students in your class become better yoga practitioners by giving them individualized advice and guidance.  Standing at the front of the room and saying 'you guys are awesome, great job' when some are obviously struggling does the students and the study of yoga a huge disservice.  You need to teach them about foot position, hand position, activated and slack muscles.  You need to TEACH yoga, not just demonstrate it in front of the class."

Also, to the yoga studios issues these certifications: make sure the 'instructors' you release out into the wild can actually instruct people on how to do yoga.  Just being able to do the poses isn't enough if you can't tell others how to correctly come into the poses. 

And stop telling the class to do Crow pose if you're not going to take the time to properly teach it!

 



Schadenfreude & Kale

Schadenfreude: (noun) enjoyment obtained from the troubles of others. 

The good person in me wants to believe in Karma, but my Germanic heritage also takes glee in the misfortunes of others. 

Last fall Scott got sick. Not super sick, but just a few week of sniffles.  (He kept saying it was allergies but I knew better).  Then I got a little sick.  Then he got a little sick again.  And then the heavens opened in December and I got the mothers of all colds which lasted about three weeks.  Even Scott's parents told me to go to the doctor but honestly what was the doc going to tell me?  "Yep, that's been going around, drink plenty of fluids and here's a prescription for cough syrup with codeine."  No thank you, I'll save my co-pay and grab the Nyquil.

Sometime after Christmas I saw a friend at an Aztec men's basketball game and she asked me if I was sick and I said yes.  Then she proceeded to tell me that I needed to eat kale and all the stuff that she's been eating because she's not sick.  I didn't say anything but I was thinking "whatever, sometimes people get sick, stuff happens and it's not the end of the world." 

Scott manages (meaning he has to touch) computers for 150 users and works in a building with over 500 student athletes.  His building is a human petri dish.  The fact that we're not constantly sick is a miracle.  And then, Scott has this terrible habit of touching and tugging on his face, especially his lips, when he's bored.  Later on I kiss those lips and consequently everything his hands have touched.  It's actually quite disgusting if you think about it.  I point it out periodically when he does it and say he can't make fun of me for getting sick if he's going to submit me to the germs of the world because he can't stop fidgeting. 

But I digress...Back to Schadenfreude and my kale pushing friend.  A few weeks after she tried to tell me my diet was the reason I was sick she came down with some sort of upper respiratory infection for a couple weeks.  And now she's sick again.  (Oh, and how do I know this?  Because she always posts when she's sick on Facebook.)  This time she blames her teenage son. 

I usually don't care if people get sick and I think most people are big babies when they get sick but I take particular enjoyment when this particular friend gets sick.  The yoga practitioner in me says I shouldn't but my German heritage says I should.  I mean, why would they have a word for it if you weren't supposed to feel it?

Kale.  Nutritious?  Sure.  Magical cure-all?  No.