Bye Bye 2008
Normally I don't like to see the current year pass on. Knowing I will never see it again makes me sad. Like saying goodbye to an old friend knowing it may be a long time till you see them again, if ever.
But as for me and 2008--bump that. See ya when I see ya.
Peace!
I am so thrilled to bust out a brand new calender, for me it represents an official fresh start and putting an extremely difficult year behind me. January 1 2009 cannot come soon enough.
A Year In Review Past
Each year since the summer I turned 13 in 1993, I always look back at my year in a diary entry I dub "Perdita's Year in Review-XXXX". Some of the nonsense I have summed up at the end of some years was scatterbrained, others just indicative of a young child coming of age.
That summer I would sneak out of the house after midnight to play manhunt with a militia of other kids in our neighbourhood gully. We'd set the plan that afternoon, decide on a meeting time and point then sneak out of our respective windows. One night I brought my younger sister with me, we shared a room and she saw me leaving. To keep my secret I had to bring her slowpoke tail along.
Walking slower than usual (surprise!) to the rendez vous spot we got caught in the parking lot by our friend's mom. She was dressed in some scandalous outfit which I found strange since she looked like Mary Poppins in the day time. She asked where in the world we were going and questioned why we were both dressed in black.
(The nerve of this nocturnal private dancer to inquire about my attire w/ her fish net stocking self--but I was to young to question this back then, so I will now).
Nevertheless I froze like Bambi on the 401.
Certain mother would hear about this and I would be punished w/ the belt or whatever she grabbed first: hanger, shoe, pot...
I came up with a lie so big, that I've since repented, but certain I could still be heading to hades.
But I had to save us: "Uhh, my brother has not come home tonight, and my mother is at home crying. We are going to one of his friend's house to see if he may be there. My mom wanted us to wear black so no one would see us and take us.".
Jennifer's mother looked at us suspiciously, but then seemed to eat the lie right up. "Ok then" she said, as she hopped in her car, lit a cigarette and sped off to what I am certain now was the nudie bar.
Looking back at that year in review I thought I was so independent and grown-up, having this secret night life. Now looking back I was disobedient, a fibber and very irresponsible. And all the things you are allowed to be at 13!
2008 In Review
I haven't reviewed 2008 yet, I'm delaying what it might reveal or what I may learn about myself. If I had to take a stab at it I'd say I have learned:
1. "What a difference a year makes" is bang on
2. Relish every moment that you are doing something you love
3. When life gives you lemons, you better love you some lemonade
4. Cherish the people that treat and love you the same in your every circumstance
5. Be grateful for the good
6. Be grateful for the not so good
7. Small victories can turn out to be your biggest triumphs
...I'll have pages and pages to write in "Perdita's Year in Review: 2008". All I know is I am not unchanged as a result of this year and I think I'll discover it's for the better.
2009 We Welcome You!
Perdita
Tuesday, December 30
Tuesday, December 23
Season's Greetings!
I began my Christmas shopping tonight and must report I was highly unsuccessful. It had to do with the mass of people at the mall, the long lines and how tired I was from practice earlier in the day. So after two hours of fruitless wandering I left feeling irritated and defeated.
There was but two solutions to this: chicken milk w/ 'wodkah' (upon my arrival home) and the gift card!
One is so impersonal and quick --the other enables you to care less! :-)
Wishing everyone and their families the best this holiday season.
Happy Holidays...Merry Festivus...Happy Kawanza...Happy Hanukkah!
Perdita
There was but two solutions to this: chicken milk w/ 'wodkah' (upon my arrival home) and the gift card!
One is so impersonal and quick --the other enables you to care less! :-)
Wishing everyone and their families the best this holiday season.
Happy Holidays...Merry Festivus...Happy Kawanza...Happy Hanukkah!
Perdita
Wednesday, December 17
Corny for Christmas
I'm planning to drive home this weekend 10 hours from the Paign to P-town. I have been looking for flights since November, and they are so so reasonable. But it is the rental car that is hurting me. I have done this trip every year since 2000, and this is the first time I refuse to spend so much just to get home.
To rent a car for 2 weeks, used to be a decent $250. Now these crooks are talking about $450-500 for an economy car. Who's fitting in that?
I refuse!
So that means I am making the drive, which I so don't want to do. But it will save me a rio grand, easy. Especially important, since I have 9 nieces and nephews who are expecting Christmas gifts. And you know how many DS games a G can buy?
Christmas is next week, and I haven't really prepared for its arrival. I have stopped buying for the adults and just spend on the kiddies. If I am lucky I'll get a grand total of 2 gifts my own self. That is something from the BF and another from my mom.
Who better make sure her gift is off the chain. Because for my 28th birthday bash in August, she got me a card with a $2 quick pick.
I mean really, mother.
If I win the lottery you come off looking really great. But guess what--I didn't.
But really, I am excited to close out week 7 of boot camp and get home to be with my family. And all I want for Christmas besides a juicer and food processor is their happiness.
..lol, I'm so corny for Christmas.
Perdita
To rent a car for 2 weeks, used to be a decent $250. Now these crooks are talking about $450-500 for an economy car. Who's fitting in that?
I refuse!
So that means I am making the drive, which I so don't want to do. But it will save me a rio grand, easy. Especially important, since I have 9 nieces and nephews who are expecting Christmas gifts. And you know how many DS games a G can buy?
Christmas is next week, and I haven't really prepared for its arrival. I have stopped buying for the adults and just spend on the kiddies. If I am lucky I'll get a grand total of 2 gifts my own self. That is something from the BF and another from my mom.
Who better make sure her gift is off the chain. Because for my 28th birthday bash in August, she got me a card with a $2 quick pick.
I mean really, mother.
If I win the lottery you come off looking really great. But guess what--I didn't.
But really, I am excited to close out week 7 of boot camp and get home to be with my family. And all I want for Christmas besides a juicer and food processor is their happiness.
..lol, I'm so corny for Christmas.
Perdita
Saturday, December 13
Thursday, December 11
Freedom
Hey now,
I'm in the native land. Can I get a "West Side!" since I'm in Vancouver.
It was drama getting here from the Midwest last night. I flew out of Indianapolis because it was the best connection, but meant I had to drive two hours from my house to get there.
When I arrived I was told my flight was delayed by three hours. I'd miss my connection and would have to spend the night in Houston. Then connect the following evening because there is only one flight per day.
Come again? ...Selecta!
I asked about other options. "Nancy" wasn't too concerned about my plight. I bought my ticket on some cheap as dirt website, so I knew it wasn't much value to them. I also am not on their frequent flyer program.
She kept typing, and sighing, typing and sighing. I was getting more and more distressed with each fruitless click.
"That's the best I can do Miss Fe...Felss...Feleese..."
"Call me Perdi!", I told her. Just to end the stammering that was embarrassing us both. I could just see was fixing to call me "Miss Felis-Navidad".
I took a breather and got on my hand held and looked up connections online. I noticed a few--Nancy was holding out on me. But I knew because my ticket was bought on Hotwire I was a sitting duck. But I'd be damned if I was going to spend 24 hours in commute mode--oh hell to the naw.
I noticed a more sympathetic agent and decided to approach her, even though Nancy was free.
NOTE: Just so you know who you are dealing with, I won the drama award in grade 8, was told by my grade 6 teacher Mr. Livingston I was going to be a star actress "with a host of credits to my name". And my mother used to pay us, her children if we could be the first to cry on cue--I never lost.
All of that, I am convinced, prepared me for the moment before me. Here it was, I was about to shine.
Looking anxious, I approached sympathetic looking "Margaret", explaining that I had drove hours to get here from out of state. I was desperate to get to Vancouver tonight, Thursday night just won't do. This was the killer: "Can you help me... please?"
Then I allowed a single tear to escape from my right eye. (I know, mad skills). It was a silent cry, but deadly. This must have pulled at her heart strings, because she called me "Sweetheart".
Pity, sympathy, call it whatever you want, as long as it got me a seat at 35, 000 feet.
Margaret typed till her fingers were blue. Whenever the typing stopped, I would manufacture more tears. Right then, the typing would begin again.
Sweet.
For Em-pha-cis, I sniffled some and said: "I'm sorry".
She announced there was nothing she could do with my ticket on her airline and none of their partners had flights today. But there was one connection leaving in thirty minutes, on another airline. She was going to call them and see what they can do. They didn't pick up the phone when she called.
Dammit, I just knew I was overnighting in blasted Indiana.
But to my surprise, Margie says: I'm going to try to put you on their flight. It may not work but go over and check in like you belong.
With that I grabbed my passport, wiped my tear stained cheeks. (OK they weren't tear stained--but I CAN do that--for the right price), and headed to their counter.
I flashed my great big smile, made chit chat with the agent and gave him my documents, while asking how his day was, and was he ready for the holidays. Hoping that all this banter, would distract from any asterisks or pending remarks that could possibly be next to my name.
My heart was beating so fast. I so desperately didn't want to lose a whole day stuck in airports. With that exchange of pleasantries the man gave me my boarding pass and told me to have a nice flight.
FREEDOM!!
I snatched that piece of paper so fast, and took off like a run away slave towards Kanata!
NOTE: When I got to Van I looked at my original flight. It still hadn't left, and was scheduled to arrive at 3AM the following morning.
Ya see what ones inner drama queen can do.
Shame Free,
Felicien-Navidad
I'm in the native land. Can I get a "West Side!" since I'm in Vancouver.
It was drama getting here from the Midwest last night. I flew out of Indianapolis because it was the best connection, but meant I had to drive two hours from my house to get there.
When I arrived I was told my flight was delayed by three hours. I'd miss my connection and would have to spend the night in Houston. Then connect the following evening because there is only one flight per day.
Come again? ...Selecta!
I asked about other options. "Nancy" wasn't too concerned about my plight. I bought my ticket on some cheap as dirt website, so I knew it wasn't much value to them. I also am not on their frequent flyer program.
She kept typing, and sighing, typing and sighing. I was getting more and more distressed with each fruitless click.
"That's the best I can do Miss Fe...Felss...Feleese..."
"Call me Perdi!", I told her. Just to end the stammering that was embarrassing us both. I could just see was fixing to call me "Miss Felis-Navidad".
I took a breather and got on my hand held and looked up connections online. I noticed a few--Nancy was holding out on me. But I knew because my ticket was bought on Hotwire I was a sitting duck. But I'd be damned if I was going to spend 24 hours in commute mode--oh hell to the naw.
I noticed a more sympathetic agent and decided to approach her, even though Nancy was free.
NOTE: Just so you know who you are dealing with, I won the drama award in grade 8, was told by my grade 6 teacher Mr. Livingston I was going to be a star actress "with a host of credits to my name". And my mother used to pay us, her children if we could be the first to cry on cue--I never lost.
All of that, I am convinced, prepared me for the moment before me. Here it was, I was about to shine.
Looking anxious, I approached sympathetic looking "Margaret", explaining that I had drove hours to get here from out of state. I was desperate to get to Vancouver tonight, Thursday night just won't do. This was the killer: "Can you help me... please?"
Then I allowed a single tear to escape from my right eye. (I know, mad skills). It was a silent cry, but deadly. This must have pulled at her heart strings, because she called me "Sweetheart".
Pity, sympathy, call it whatever you want, as long as it got me a seat at 35, 000 feet.
Margaret typed till her fingers were blue. Whenever the typing stopped, I would manufacture more tears. Right then, the typing would begin again.
Sweet.
For Em-pha-cis, I sniffled some and said: "I'm sorry".
She announced there was nothing she could do with my ticket on her airline and none of their partners had flights today. But there was one connection leaving in thirty minutes, on another airline. She was going to call them and see what they can do. They didn't pick up the phone when she called.
Dammit, I just knew I was overnighting in blasted Indiana.
But to my surprise, Margie says: I'm going to try to put you on their flight. It may not work but go over and check in like you belong.
With that I grabbed my passport, wiped my tear stained cheeks. (OK they weren't tear stained--but I CAN do that--for the right price), and headed to their counter.
I flashed my great big smile, made chit chat with the agent and gave him my documents, while asking how his day was, and was he ready for the holidays. Hoping that all this banter, would distract from any asterisks or pending remarks that could possibly be next to my name.
My heart was beating so fast. I so desperately didn't want to lose a whole day stuck in airports. With that exchange of pleasantries the man gave me my boarding pass and told me to have a nice flight.
FREEDOM!!
I snatched that piece of paper so fast, and took off like a run away slave towards Kanata!
NOTE: When I got to Van I looked at my original flight. It still hadn't left, and was scheduled to arrive at 3AM the following morning.
Ya see what ones inner drama queen can do.
Shame Free,
Felicien-Navidad
Tuesday, December 9
Things That Make You Go Hmm...
I found this story on another blog and decided to post it on mine because it is so shocking. I just don't get it...
Trying not to judge but, I mean really?! Why? How?!
Till I type again,
P
Trying not to judge but, I mean really?! Why? How?!
Till I type again,
P
Sunday, December 7
Blasts From The Past
I am in the process of copying articles and photos of my career for a project and its been a great undertaking. I try to keep everything from Bib numbers, fan mail to media. But once I archive it I usually forget, so it's been fun looking at some of the stuff i've been a part of over the years.
Below is what I have stumbled upon this weekend.
What athlete doesn't dream of being on the cover of a cereal box! If you want a stale box of Honey Nut let me know, I found plenty in the garage.
I still can't believe I was on the cover of Time. When my manager called to tell me, I was floored, asking "Are they sure?!". The day of the shoot the crew set up at the wrong campus, two hours north in Chicago. So we ended up shooting a few hours later so they could drive to Chambana.
A spread I did for Toro Mag, I love the background.
Cheerio!
Perdita
Below is what I have stumbled upon this weekend.
What athlete doesn't dream of being on the cover of a cereal box! If you want a stale box of Honey Nut let me know, I found plenty in the garage.
I still can't believe I was on the cover of Time. When my manager called to tell me, I was floored, asking "Are they sure?!". The day of the shoot the crew set up at the wrong campus, two hours north in Chicago. So we ended up shooting a few hours later so they could drive to Chambana.
A spread I did for Toro Mag, I love the background.
Cheerio!
Perdita
Saturday, December 6
Pretty Young Thang?
The oldest person alive just died, may she rest in peace.
Seeing the story made me wonder if I would want to live that long. I think I would as long as I am healthy and some what independent.
World's Oldest Person Dies in Indiana
I don't mind being 110 so long as I can change my own nappy, ya know what I mean. Though I'm not sure being 100+ years old is so hot if the love of your life croaks at 89. That's a long road to hoe alone.
I'd be all about finding a replacement as soon as possible, perhaps eharmony might develop a section for super seniors in the next 90 years.
I could imagine the descriptions:
Tyrone-"Have two of my own teefs"
Luther-"Will chew my lady's food"
Maggie-"Adore tepid sponge baths"
But seriously, the journey of independence in old age correlates to how you live your life when you are young. Many of us don't think of it now, we are much to young to care, and think this nerve and verve of youth will last a lifetime.
Nope.
Go to realage to see if you are truly young at heart. You may be surprised at what it tells you.
Perhaps you can enact some changes now, that will add years to your life.
Cheers,
P
Seeing the story made me wonder if I would want to live that long. I think I would as long as I am healthy and some what independent.
World's Oldest Person Dies in Indiana
I don't mind being 110 so long as I can change my own nappy, ya know what I mean. Though I'm not sure being 100+ years old is so hot if the love of your life croaks at 89. That's a long road to hoe alone.
I'd be all about finding a replacement as soon as possible, perhaps eharmony might develop a section for super seniors in the next 90 years.
I could imagine the descriptions:
Tyrone-"Have two of my own teefs"
Luther-"Will chew my lady's food"
Maggie-"Adore tepid sponge baths"
But seriously, the journey of independence in old age correlates to how you live your life when you are young. Many of us don't think of it now, we are much to young to care, and think this nerve and verve of youth will last a lifetime.
Nope.
Go to realage to see if you are truly young at heart. You may be surprised at what it tells you.
Perhaps you can enact some changes now, that will add years to your life.
Cheers,
P
Thursday, December 4
Back!
My sincerest apologies for my unexplained disappearing act. I was kidnapped on November 17th, by aliens, as you may have guessed, and they only let me go tonight.
I know blame it on the rain, really my absence was a combo of DOMS, tryptophan, a jenky internet connection and miscellaneous matters all mounting concurrently. For the record I won't go MIA again w/o sufficient notice ;).
But I am back and in full effect, so let’s keep it moving, shall we?
We shall!
The last few weeks have been quite productive, this is the close of week 5 in Champaign and my body adapted pretty quickly to the first training cycle. A few weeks ago I went to practice on a Thursday and began a rather hard session. This workout used to make me queasy just knowing it was coming. I started the routine, which was a full body, high rep, exercise circuit that included using body weight and weights, with very little rest.
I zipped through the workout, and didn’t even chip a nail. Don’t get me wrong, I was taxed—this was expected. But I wasn’t wheezing, hurting or broken—this was not expected. I sat on the bench sipping my water, waiting to begin the second, (more tame) portion of the day’s session and a funny thing began to happen.
When I looked in the surrounding mirrors my muscles began to bulge and protrude. Not subtly-- but ala She-ra!
(ok if sister girl did have muscles!)
Caught off guard, I run to the mirror to examine my entire body. My muscles are pulsing. Even my earlobes look buff.
Yikes! Now I’m scared.
I bolt towards my coach and ask him, wide eyed: “Do you see this?!”. He sees exactly what I am worked up about and he begins to laugh.
Confused and following his lead I start to laugh too, though not knowing what about. But hoping he as the author of my form will be able to explain my beefing neck muscles.
Hearing the sounds of my demented laughter my training partner comes over to see what’s up. She just finished the same workout and clearly wasn't having the same physiological reaction that I did.
“Damn P!” she says through her own laughter, now. Who knew ones instantly hypertrophying trap muscles could induce such hysteria in others.
“I know. I’m a freak”.
Suddenly self-conscious, I ask my training partner if it looks bad. Being a good friend she doesn’t take that bait. Instead she proceeds to tell me, I look how I always look. “…but usually not till the summer”.
ok.
Not sure what to make of that assessment, I look to the coach for some science. Instead of science, I get frigging Marvel comic.
Coach and training partner decide to liken me to The Incredible Hulk.
You see how they do me?!
Talks of “green paint”, and “shredded shorts”, and “P, too bad Halloween is over”, is discussed through their chuckles.
BAHAHA. They so funny.
Once they got over making themselves blue in the face, we got to the serious stuff. Coach announced that he was pulling me from that particular workout.
“You’re done”.
He mentioned that he hasn’t seen definition in my back like that ever. I looked at the mirror over my shoulders. Indeed it was chiseled and dented to the point that I thought I was looking at Apollo Creed's back.
But to explain the phenomenon it’s just how my genetics work, and being away from this kind of environment for so long I forgot how I am built.
In the summer of 2002 as a sophomore in college, we had to totally revamp the way I lift and avoid routines that can bulk me up, since I can build muscle very quickly. Just because I am very strong, doesn’t mean I have to exhibit all of that. Heavy muscles mean extra weight and load. It’s great for me to be strong, but not at the expense of the power and explosion needed for my event.
I do have the nickname “beast” when it comes to strength training, I’m just shocked that my body has reminded us of that this early.
Hoping to be beastly or incredible in this new training phase. Which promises to bring me face to face with my kryptonite that is lactic acid runs and more lactic acid runs after that.
Bleh.
Glad to be back,
Hulk Dita
I know blame it on the rain, really my absence was a combo of DOMS, tryptophan, a jenky internet connection and miscellaneous matters all mounting concurrently. For the record I won't go MIA again w/o sufficient notice ;).
But I am back and in full effect, so let’s keep it moving, shall we?
We shall!
The last few weeks have been quite productive, this is the close of week 5 in Champaign and my body adapted pretty quickly to the first training cycle. A few weeks ago I went to practice on a Thursday and began a rather hard session. This workout used to make me queasy just knowing it was coming. I started the routine, which was a full body, high rep, exercise circuit that included using body weight and weights, with very little rest.
I zipped through the workout, and didn’t even chip a nail. Don’t get me wrong, I was taxed—this was expected. But I wasn’t wheezing, hurting or broken—this was not expected. I sat on the bench sipping my water, waiting to begin the second, (more tame) portion of the day’s session and a funny thing began to happen.
When I looked in the surrounding mirrors my muscles began to bulge and protrude. Not subtly-- but ala She-ra!
(ok if sister girl did have muscles!)
Caught off guard, I run to the mirror to examine my entire body. My muscles are pulsing. Even my earlobes look buff.
Yikes! Now I’m scared.
I bolt towards my coach and ask him, wide eyed: “Do you see this?!”. He sees exactly what I am worked up about and he begins to laugh.
Confused and following his lead I start to laugh too, though not knowing what about. But hoping he as the author of my form will be able to explain my beefing neck muscles.
Hearing the sounds of my demented laughter my training partner comes over to see what’s up. She just finished the same workout and clearly wasn't having the same physiological reaction that I did.
“Damn P!” she says through her own laughter, now. Who knew ones instantly hypertrophying trap muscles could induce such hysteria in others.
“I know. I’m a freak”.
Suddenly self-conscious, I ask my training partner if it looks bad. Being a good friend she doesn’t take that bait. Instead she proceeds to tell me, I look how I always look. “…but usually not till the summer”.
ok.
Not sure what to make of that assessment, I look to the coach for some science. Instead of science, I get frigging Marvel comic.
Coach and training partner decide to liken me to The Incredible Hulk.
You see how they do me?!
Talks of “green paint”, and “shredded shorts”, and “P, too bad Halloween is over”, is discussed through their chuckles.
BAHAHA. They so funny.
Once they got over making themselves blue in the face, we got to the serious stuff. Coach announced that he was pulling me from that particular workout.
“You’re done”.
He mentioned that he hasn’t seen definition in my back like that ever. I looked at the mirror over my shoulders. Indeed it was chiseled and dented to the point that I thought I was looking at Apollo Creed's back.
But to explain the phenomenon it’s just how my genetics work, and being away from this kind of environment for so long I forgot how I am built.
In the summer of 2002 as a sophomore in college, we had to totally revamp the way I lift and avoid routines that can bulk me up, since I can build muscle very quickly. Just because I am very strong, doesn’t mean I have to exhibit all of that. Heavy muscles mean extra weight and load. It’s great for me to be strong, but not at the expense of the power and explosion needed for my event.
I do have the nickname “beast” when it comes to strength training, I’m just shocked that my body has reminded us of that this early.
Hoping to be beastly or incredible in this new training phase. Which promises to bring me face to face with my kryptonite that is lactic acid runs and more lactic acid runs after that.
Bleh.
Glad to be back,
Hulk Dita
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