Progress and a Fat Gymnastics Coach

Good thing American Idol is on because I just wrote a LONG post about so many cool things like how I got P.E. credit in high school for eating donuts and then I pushed something and wham! Gone. Erased. So, at least I can listen to some more freaks try to sang (do these people really think they are good?) while I try to remember what I wrote.

Operation Crap Purge

Since y'all have asked, and it makes for such riveting reading and it keeps me from doing anything productive like...crap purging, I'll tell you about my....er....crap purging! I've made some progress, including a growing pile to give away, a visible bed, filing cabinet and floor and an organized bathroom drawer. On that note, you should have seen John's face when I just took this picture of the bathroom drawer. I wish I had taken a picture of that. My freak status is at an all-time high. So, here is the progress:

Also, would anyone like a twin bed? It is only about 30 years old and the bed frame is only slightly ricketedy. It won't collapse if you just lie really still. Seriously...want it?

Stuff I'm giving away.

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So, y'all also asked if I was sore after my gym visit yesterday. Surprisingly, not so much! I took it easy at the gym because I was really sore after doing power yoga the day before that. I love yoga. You get to do it in your bare feet and not get too sweaty. Plus, It tones my muscles more than any weight lifting ever did. Especially my body building class in high school. Have you heard this story? No? Then, pull up a laptop and crack open that Krispy Kreme box.

How I Got P.E. Credit for Eating

I got kicked out my high school gymnastics class for getting a migraine. I was seeing weird sparkly things in my peripheral vision and I could feel a migraine coming on and I just didn't think that running up a wall and flipping over backwards was the best thing to do at that moment, because, oh, I don't know.....it would hurt (also: not a real gymnastics thing, coach dude.) Since I didn't have a doctor's note on me at that moment, I was sent to the office and told to change my schedule that day and never to set foot in gymnastics class again.

The gymnastics coach was a known weirdo. He was this giant black man with a long ponytail who was so fat he couldn't make his knees touch. He played music during class, but only one song over and over: "Ice Ice Baby" by Vanilla Ice. He made us do this weird sexual-looking stretch. We would start on our hands and knees, then he would tell us to arch our back, push our knees out behind us and put our pelvises on the floor. Then, he would say, "you'll thank me for this one day."

So, anyway, now that you are traumatized, on with the story. On the day I was kicked out I learned the only other P.E. class that met that period was Body Building with the football team. People....get this in your heads: I was a choir nerd. The Student Council Vice President. In the National Honor Society. German Club. And a girl. A skinny, anxious girl. Body building? With the football team? This sounded like my own personal hell. I was terrified.

Now, the football coach had his own problems, namely gambling. He reportedly ended up getting fired for stealing money from football players' lockers. [And, from our same school, rumor has it one baseball coach had an affair with a student and another coach was fired for having a girl student in his lap in class.]

But, I totally lucked out. The football coach never made me set foot in the weight room. He let Anne and me (another gymnastics reject) go to the cafeteria, get cheese toast or donuts and sit at a table in the gym where the gymnastics class met, munching and listening to "Ice Ice Baby" while doing our homework.

Oh, was that ever awesome. All our friends in gymnastics would look over at us forlornly whilst putting their pelvic bones on the floor and arching their backs and we would just take another bite of cheese toast and wave.

This might explain a few things. Like, my aversion to all things "workout." And, why I love melted American cheese on buttered Texas toast.