Fashionably Lonely

Ben will be back from Korea a week from Sunday (March 9, 2008). I think I'm going to make one of those preschool chains that I can rip a rung off each day.

I got a double dose of phone calls. Ben was able to call back on my birthday, and we chatted for about an hour and a half.

Last night he called again, woohoo! I had already been laughing pretty hard, but oh mama, can he make me laugh.

I can't wait to have my buddyboy back, but I'm glad he's enjoying himself and embracing the armyness.

My Dear Little Sister's Adventures

1. Practice

2. "Are you okay?"

3. Belly Slide

4. "Ow. It's like a real fall 'cause I kind of got hurt."

5. Weather School

Story Time

Last Saturday, I wanted to go to the early morning spinning class, and Em wanted to go too, but that morning as she lay in her warm/toasty bed, she changed her mind. I took my time to make myself an appropriate breakfast, and I checked my e-mail ... wahoo! E-mail from Ben! So by the time I finally made it to the gym, the spinning class had been going for about ten minutes. I really didn't want to walk in late, and have all eyes on me as I struggled to drag the bike around to squeeze into place in the tight circle.

So I lifted really hard and I was really efficient because hardly any of the older people were using the machines or free weights. But then when it came time to use the treadmills, they were all taken. (P.S. There was a really short older guy, and he kept eyeing me, and I did not like it. I know I'm short, but on first glance is it a "Holy crap! She is SHORT!" reaction?)

I waited behind a lady as she strolled along on the treadmill, she was working on her cooldown, and I kid you not, she was walking at mach negative 2 mph. It made it seem like I was waiting forever as I watched her hardly walk. Not now! I really had to go the bathroom, and I was in a dilemma. Go to the bathroom/lose my place in line? Don't go to the bathroom/run in discomfort?

I chose not to go to the bathroom, so I hopped on the machine and quickly decided to crank out one mile as fast as I could go, and then I could reward myself by going to the bathroom. I kept increasing speed, and I'd gone 1/2 a mile in 4 minutes (that's good for me), and I had to go. There was no postponing. I paused my machine, evil-eyed the old guys, daring them to take over, and sped walk to the bathrooms. I love walking after you've been on a treadmill, it feels like you're speed walking to the max.

Out of the two stalls, I chose the mini one, sat down, and thought to myself, "Whooo, I feel a little ... "

Blackness.

I remember thinking, "James would not approve of the position I'm sleeping in," and I came to with the top of my head pushed up on the side wall right, the toilet paper dispenser staring me in the face. Thankfully, I was still sitting on the toilet, my neck was just at a funny angle. "What the, I don't remember ... " I had totally passed out. Then I was worried because I didn't know what to do, should I call my mom and dad? Should I tell someone here at the gym?

I must have passed out because I was running so hard, and then I just completely stopped. Then I was so thankful that I came to because what if someone had to find me, and I was pants-down on the toilet, resting like those little kids who fall asleep when they're going to the bathroom?

I kept thinking about my handball coach Herm who always laid into us about warming up and cooling down and about his story about Jim Fixx. Jim was in tip-top shape, he was a marathoner. One day he was out running, and he stopped at a street corner because the light was red, he passed out, and died. It was because he was running hard, and suddenly just stopped. I kept thinking, "I almost Jim Fixxed myself at the gym."

I re-enacted my passing out adventure for Dra, then my mom, then Em. Dra was hesitant to follow me in the bathroom, "I don't want to see!" she thought it was going to be a gross story. My mom was sick with worry, and Em laughed and laughed. My dad was really sick, so I just told him about it, and he gave me advice. He's had a lot of experience with passing out.

Birthday Blues

My biggest birthday present was that I got to suffer through our second night of Parent Teacher Conferences. I've slept over at my parent's two nights in a row because they live right by my school, and with parent teacher conferences and the early morning math tutoring that I do, my schedule is 6:45 A.M. to 8:15 P.M. Wahoo. Before I left for school, I noticed a rad red coat hanging up in my mom's room. Guaranteed that's mine. So I took the plastic off, cut off the tags, and wore it to school. Later that night, my mom cooed about how great it looked, "You found your coat! I didn't wrap any of your presents, did you find the rest?" Frowny face. No. I didn't go treasure hunting for my presents. A treasure hunt would have been great though.

Ben's in Korea with the army right now, and we've only had e-mail contact. During a lull when I had no line, I ran out into the hall to check my messages because there was a strange number, and Mr./Mrs. Stranger had left a message. Of course I got my hopes up which is not a rare occurrence. My message was in and out, and I was frantic as I kept walking from wall to wall, trying to find a good spot in the basement of our school. Dear, sweet, custodian Bruce laughed at me, held my shoulders, and walked me to a good spot in the hallway. As soon as I recognized Benjamima's voice leaving me a sweet birthday message, I literally stomped my foot. It was way too dramatic. My lip got quivery, and I'll admit it, tears were on their way. Stupid parent teacher conferences.

My dad always sends me flowers, but not this birthday. It felt like my entire family was shrugging. "Amy's birthday? Oh. Eh." Last year they sent a singing gorilla to my school.







So I thought for sure that when I rolled into my parent's later that night, there would be some sort of excitement. Nothing. Was I supposed to ask for my birthday presents? I did not understand the situation that I was in. Plus, my Grandma Bateman never called me. She ALWAYS calls super early and belts Happy Birthday in her sweet old lady sing-song voice.

Em eventually wandered up from the basement, and she asked what I got for my birthday. Nothing. She laughed really hard, realized I wasn't joking, and upped her laughter. "Stay right here," she assured me. She brought down a cute purse that has little trucks on it, and inside were red shoes. I love them. Good ol' Em saved my birthday. She and I went to the store and she bought us some Girl Scout Cookie ice cream. Delish. My dad managed to finish the whole thing in less than 24 hours. Not joking.

The next day on the announcements, my Geometry boy, Peter Hansen, wished me a happy birthday, one day too late. He and another SBO, Edward, found out at parent teacher conferences. I was bent over, totalling my parent visits, when I hear a whispered version of the birthday song drifting from behind me. They were softly singing to me, and I thought it was because they didn't want to let everyone else in the gym know. "No. We sang to Mrs. Gainer's mom, and Mrs. McCallum yelled at us because we were being 'obnoxious and loud'." After Peter's shout out on the announcements, all day long I listened to my little dears, "Why didn't you tell us?! I would have brought something." Maybe I should have told them. It sure would have cheered me up at school.

One of my geometry classes asked how old I was."Twenty whopping six," I replied."Whoa! Are you sad?" What? No, I'm not sad. I should have had them guess how old I was. I think they were shocked in a, "That's older than I thought" way. Hopefully at least.

A lot of kids told me that it was either their birthday too, or their brother's or sister's or mom's ... It's crazy how many people share my birthday. Is it selfish that I kind of hated having to share my birthday?

My perfect Valentine's Day flowers.

I had to stay at my parents' with Em since they were in St. George, and on the morning of the 14th, I was dragging my feet as I got ready for school. I had to be there an hour early because I do early morning math tutoring. Extra gag.

Hark, the phone rang at about 6:30 A.M. It had been snowing all night ... nuts, it was for my dad. But then success: My phone rang and it was dear sweet Maggie Jensen. School wasn't cancelled, however, we didn't have to be there until 9:50 A.M.! I ran and woke up little Emily and told her to turn off her alarm.

So I lounged, unfortunately, I couldn't go back to sleep, but it was heaven. At about 7:55 A.M. my phone rang again, and it was Eastmont. Uh ... oh ...
"Are you planning on coming in today?"
"Yes," I immediately started stammering, "but I was told not to come in until, I mean I was still going to come in a little early, I'm sorry, I was told..."
So I pouted and stomped and got to school at about 8:45 A.M. I adjusted all of my plans and turned it into a computer day up in the library. I had my class in there working on the computers, and then Jim, one of our vice principals, asked if he could send another class in because the teacher hadn't shown up yet. So I had two classes in there, they were doubled up on the computers, and some spilled over on to the empty tables.
Steve, the librarian, and I stood in the hall and reminded kids that they were supposed to be in class. Amazing, you're at school and wow, you're supposed to be in class.
Towards the end of the period, I was trying to round everyone up, make sure that all chairs were pushed in and such, and in marches my principal with a huge vase of pink tulips.
"Somebody loves Ms. Bateman!" she sang.
My cute 9th grade geometry boys, Peter Hansen and Ryan Head, bounced out of their chairs with, "It's me! It's me!"
It was adorable.

Good Day/Bad Day

Goodness:


1. I suckered a librarian into giving me a library card.


James told me about the book The Road by Cormac McCarthy. He liked it a lot, but he admitted he liked No Country for Old Men loads more. I navigated around the library, found the McCarthy fiction section, but neither of these two books smiled back at me from the shelf. Nuts!

There was a giant of a boy shuffling next to me; I had to step out into the aisle so that he could pass through. Seriously. But he wasn't just some boy, he was shelving books. It was a Christmas miracle, he slowly put back Road!


2. I attended my first spinning class.


I've never adventured into the land of spinning, call me crazy, but it's true.
This morning at 7:15 A.M. I took the plunge. I hate going to a class where things are assumed. I wasn't exactly sure what to do, so I spied on others the entire time. I pulled out one of the yellow bikes into our circle, and started to "warm up." Even with the seat all the way down, I was totally high-crotching myself, and there was no way that I could do that for an hour. So I heaved that one back against the wall, and drug a blue bike out. Perfect, it didn't have any pedals. So then I maneuvered another blue bike into place. I was the new girl in class, and I'm sure everyone enjoyed watching my struggles. I just know that I was dragging them the wrong way too.

Apparently, I should buy a water bottle that I can easily use to "hydrate". Unscrewing my nalgene's cap and trying to catch the water in my mouth while pedaling was just another way to humiliate myself.
I was so sweaty! Maybe just as sweaty as I used to get when we'd play back to back indoor soccer games. This class kicked my butt. There was a pregnant girl spinning away. I couldn't help but think, "Geez, nine months over there hasn't even taken her shirt off yet to use as a sweat catcher."

2 Words to add to my spinning vocab: road, sticky


3. I think I'm the biggest loser this week. I'm pretty sure I'm up to a ten pound deficit.


4. I successfully parallel parked in front of my house. No second tries.

Badness:

1. Where is my hubcap? I don't know when, but one of my hubcaps snuck off, and now my car looks ghetto. Huge sigh. It probably fell victim to one of those dang 13th East potholes.



2. One of my undies decided to unravel in the dryer. Green string accented almost every other piece of laundry.



3. 2nd Parking Ticket in Two Days.

Ugh! I was in the correct spot, I have a pass, what is the deal! Then I looked closer, and it says, "No vis registration." Then I was even more mad. My car is taken care of, it is registered, how is it my fault that they never sent that stupid little blue or green or red sticker to me?

4. My bum's already feeling the punishment from the spinning class.

5. I can't tell that I've lost 10 pounds.

6. Ben's at drill this weekend.

I can't stop crying at the gym.

Okay, I've only cried twice, but considering that I just joined this new gym on Wednesday ... that's twice too many.

On Thursday, Ben, his roommate Kyle, and I went over to the gym that's right across from their apartments. Kyle's training for a marathon, and Ben and I are just trying to be healthier. (I've lost 7 pounds since Dec. 31, yahoo! I attribute it to starting school again. I'm busy again and don't have time to shove my face full of food all day long.)
I have been showing Ben my old lifting program, and that night we were working on back and biceps. We had just started, and Ben said he heard something. We both turned around and there was an old man down on the floor twisted between the treadmills. He was still seizuring. He was right next to Kyle, and apparently, he started seizuring and then fell off of the treadmill, still seizuring. It was absolutely horrible.
The staff stepped in, called 911, and stayed by him, while we lamely kept looking over our shoulders, whispering that we had no idea what to do. Inside I was frantic to help, but I didn't know how. Eventually he came to, and he was very worried, but some people calmly explained to him what had happened. He was dazed ... and then he started moaning, "Ow, ouch, OW, OUCH!" It was completely heartbreaking. He was inconsolable, and all I could do was wish the paramedics there faster. It seemed like it took way too long, but as I looked out the window, I saw a paramedic SUV pull up. Really? Shouldn't they send more than that? Some young guys hopped out, and I wanted to pound the glass and tell them to hurry. Then the firetruck pulled up behind them, and an ambulance pulled up behind the truck. Sheesh, now I switched gears and thought that they were just over doing it.
They came in with their doodahs and gadgets, and tried to ask the old man some questions, but he wouldn't respond other than moaning. We were really at a loss. Do we watch? No, that seemed intrusive. Do we keep working out? No, that seemed irreverent. Does Ben crack a joke to ease the tension? Of course. After a really long moan he whispered in my ear with a giggle, "Can't they get him out of here already?" He assured me he was kidding, but maybe we were all thinking it, but with more of a "help him out" attitude.
They were trying to help him on to the board, but they couldn't persuade him to hold still. I had my back to him, and then I hear, "Help me ... help me!" That's when the tears started. Looking back, I wish that I had gone over and seen if I could hold his hand or something. I don't know. I did nothing. They wheeled him out, and I just pray that he's alright.


Saturday Nat and Thurm were in town because the day before Thurm had had a dentist appointment, and Nat had had a baby appointment. Thurm's training for a marathon, so he and Ben went running together Saturday morning. We were all going to go swimming later, so I went to the gym while they ran outside.
My mom had called earlier that morning to invite us over for the funeral, but I told her that I didn't think we'd make it in time. Confession, I honestly hadn't been planning on watching the funeral, and then I felt overwhelmingly guilty. Luckily, when I got the gym, I realized that one of the t.v.'s was on the funeral channel. (You know what I mean.) So I hopped on the treadmill and ran while I listened to the beautiful talks.
I was so sweaty, and I hope that that disguised the tears rolling down my face. I was a mess, a stinky bawlbaby mess. What got me was when his daughter was talking about how President Hinckley was so sad when his wife died, and how he was so sad when he found out he had cancer. He was sad, and he let people know that he was sad, and it was okay that he was sad. He grieved every day for his wife. I loved this; it's real.