Tell me lies, slap me on the face, just ...
Improvise, do something really clever
That'll make me hate your name forever
Is it possible that Shakira, that Columbian goddess who makes Beyonce look like a child trying to dance, actually speaks the words that live only in my head?
To watch her dance is to wish you could somehow learn to move like that. But to listen to her ... to fully take in the layers of lyrics ... it's almost too much.
In the world full of strangers
You're the one I know
I listen to her a lot on the treadmill and the elliptical. She makes me move. Makes me feel sinewy. Powerful. Agile. I like it.
And you know ... my hips don't lie.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
What the?
I'm pretty sure that's what my body is saying every time I walk into the gym.
My heart and lungs are wondering why, all of a sudden, I'm taking them out for a night on the town. My muscles are trying to figure out how to handle this new-fangled thing called "working." And let me tell you, my sweat glands have gone into overdrive.
So a funny thing happened last night at the gym. There are mirrors everywhere, so we can make sure our form is correct and (if you're me) check out the cute guy on the treadmill in front of you. I met with Kate, who went through a routine with me on the weights that should work every major muscle group (and have me running up the stairs in no time.) I was looking at myself in the mirror and thinking to myself, "yikes, where did all those lumps come from?" But I focused on my form - stand straight, stomache in, lift from the deltoid - and I forgot to feel bad about how I looked.
Then, after my workout, I walked into the locker room to take a shower. Wrapped in a towel, I caught my eye again in the mirror, only this time, I didn't recognize myself at first. My first thought was, she's sexy.
And "she" was me.
I'm not sure if it was the hour of sweating, or the pink glow in my skin, or that I just felt good for finishing my workout, but there it is: she's sexy.
I'll be going back to the gym tonight, to see if she's there again.
My heart and lungs are wondering why, all of a sudden, I'm taking them out for a night on the town. My muscles are trying to figure out how to handle this new-fangled thing called "working." And let me tell you, my sweat glands have gone into overdrive.
So a funny thing happened last night at the gym. There are mirrors everywhere, so we can make sure our form is correct and (if you're me) check out the cute guy on the treadmill in front of you. I met with Kate, who went through a routine with me on the weights that should work every major muscle group (and have me running up the stairs in no time.) I was looking at myself in the mirror and thinking to myself, "yikes, where did all those lumps come from?" But I focused on my form - stand straight, stomache in, lift from the deltoid - and I forgot to feel bad about how I looked.
Then, after my workout, I walked into the locker room to take a shower. Wrapped in a towel, I caught my eye again in the mirror, only this time, I didn't recognize myself at first. My first thought was, she's sexy.
And "she" was me.
I'm not sure if it was the hour of sweating, or the pink glow in my skin, or that I just felt good for finishing my workout, but there it is: she's sexy.
I'll be going back to the gym tonight, to see if she's there again.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Sleep
I've lived alone now for more than a year. In fact, He moved out in August of 2006, and I moved into my current location a year ago right about now.
It's been a rocky year. Yes, I still cry sometimes over what might have been. I still feel angry over the broken promises and the cold black loveless heart I sometimes feel I was left with. But for the most part, I love my life, I love my home, and I love who I am.
He rarely slept in pajamas, and He never really understood my need for sleepwear. No matter how many times I explained that my favorite things to wear were made of flannel or soft, worn cotton, He never seemed to "get" it. Sleeping in the buff just never held any real appeal to me. I guess that's just another way He and I never found a way to "connect."
So imagine my surprise when, last night, after my shower, I just dried off and got into bed. It was warm at Chez Mags, and the cool cotton sheets felt really good. (There's a history behind these sheets, mind you. They used to be on one of the beds at my family's vacation home in Kentucky, and it feels good to sleep in them.) Not only that, but for the past year, I've pretty much stuck to "my" side of the bed. But not last night. Last night, I wriggled right into the middle.
It would appear that, bit by little bit, the "old" Margaret is melting away. The frightened girl who clung to what used to be is slowly becoming someone new. And that someone sometimes sleeps buck naked, in the middle of the bed.
It's been a rocky year. Yes, I still cry sometimes over what might have been. I still feel angry over the broken promises and the cold black loveless heart I sometimes feel I was left with. But for the most part, I love my life, I love my home, and I love who I am.
He rarely slept in pajamas, and He never really understood my need for sleepwear. No matter how many times I explained that my favorite things to wear were made of flannel or soft, worn cotton, He never seemed to "get" it. Sleeping in the buff just never held any real appeal to me. I guess that's just another way He and I never found a way to "connect."
So imagine my surprise when, last night, after my shower, I just dried off and got into bed. It was warm at Chez Mags, and the cool cotton sheets felt really good. (There's a history behind these sheets, mind you. They used to be on one of the beds at my family's vacation home in Kentucky, and it feels good to sleep in them.) Not only that, but for the past year, I've pretty much stuck to "my" side of the bed. But not last night. Last night, I wriggled right into the middle.
It would appear that, bit by little bit, the "old" Margaret is melting away. The frightened girl who clung to what used to be is slowly becoming someone new. And that someone sometimes sleeps buck naked, in the middle of the bed.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Ow ow ow ow ow
I hurt. Every muscle I have hurts. My knees hurt. My shoulders hurt. My hair hurts.
And I'll let you in on a little secret: I like it.
Tonight was odd and amazing and more fun than I thought possible. I had dinner with Kelly. Sort of. I sat at Harry's and ate a burger and let Kelly wait on me. It's one of my favorite things. Then, I dashed out to Lyons to play kickball. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, you heard correctly - I played kickball. I actually made contact with the ball a couple of times.
Nemo asked me ages ago if I would play in this annual event. I reminded him how athletically inclined I'm not, and he insisted it was all in good fun. So I thought, why not?
Such fun. I felt privileged to be included in such a fun group.
After the game concluded (with the Lions whomping the Firemen, I must say) we hung out at the park for awhile. I wasn't planning to go to karaoke, but then, I got the call from Dale. Lea and Andy, Kelly and my hair lady and my eyebrow chick, respectively, were there, waiting to celebrate my birthday month. So I finished my beer and headed to the Tap.
It was a blast. To be there tonight, you wouldn't have known that Dale and I hadn't spoken in a week. It was just fun. We missed Nemo, but Dale played a great NeMedley of his greatest hits. Without him behind the bar, it's a very different place. There's a definite empty space where our favorite bartender used to be, so it was with a bit of meloncholy that we toasted our friend.
I danced all night, practically. After all the activity I've enjoyed in the past 48 hours, I really should have sat down and relaxed, but that just wasn't how I wanted to spend the evening. I smelled like a hideous combination of Deet and sweat and dirt. My feet are killing me. But given the opportunity, I'd do it all over again.
And I'll let you in on a little secret: I like it.
Tonight was odd and amazing and more fun than I thought possible. I had dinner with Kelly. Sort of. I sat at Harry's and ate a burger and let Kelly wait on me. It's one of my favorite things. Then, I dashed out to Lyons to play kickball. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, you heard correctly - I played kickball. I actually made contact with the ball a couple of times.
Nemo asked me ages ago if I would play in this annual event. I reminded him how athletically inclined I'm not, and he insisted it was all in good fun. So I thought, why not?
Such fun. I felt privileged to be included in such a fun group.
After the game concluded (with the Lions whomping the Firemen, I must say) we hung out at the park for awhile. I wasn't planning to go to karaoke, but then, I got the call from Dale. Lea and Andy, Kelly and my hair lady and my eyebrow chick, respectively, were there, waiting to celebrate my birthday month. So I finished my beer and headed to the Tap.
It was a blast. To be there tonight, you wouldn't have known that Dale and I hadn't spoken in a week. It was just fun. We missed Nemo, but Dale played a great NeMedley of his greatest hits. Without him behind the bar, it's a very different place. There's a definite empty space where our favorite bartender used to be, so it was with a bit of meloncholy that we toasted our friend.
I danced all night, practically. After all the activity I've enjoyed in the past 48 hours, I really should have sat down and relaxed, but that just wasn't how I wanted to spend the evening. I smelled like a hideous combination of Deet and sweat and dirt. My feet are killing me. But given the opportunity, I'd do it all over again.
Kate, revisited
I love Kate.
She is a delightful trainer, and probably just the right person to be working with me. She did not get umcomfortable when I cried when she asked me what happened between when I was in shape 10 years ago and now. She made me feel like wellness is not out of my reach. She helped me see that I didn't get into this overnight, so I can't really expect to get out of it overnight, either.
And she got my ass moving.
I took a yoga class, I worked 20 minutes on the elliptical trainer, I treaded the mill ... and after that, I wrapped myself in a lovely towel and sauna-ed myself until I felt like a lady of leisure.
It felt good. I'm grateful for Kate.
She is a delightful trainer, and probably just the right person to be working with me. She did not get umcomfortable when I cried when she asked me what happened between when I was in shape 10 years ago and now. She made me feel like wellness is not out of my reach. She helped me see that I didn't get into this overnight, so I can't really expect to get out of it overnight, either.
And she got my ass moving.
I took a yoga class, I worked 20 minutes on the elliptical trainer, I treaded the mill ... and after that, I wrapped myself in a lovely towel and sauna-ed myself until I felt like a lady of leisure.
It felt good. I'm grateful for Kate.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Kate
Tonight, I am meeting with Kate, a personal trainer at my gym, for my Body Age Assessment.
What if she tells me I have the body of a 90 year old?
What if she tells me I'm already dead?
What if she notices that instead of treating my body like a temple, I've treated it like a frat house during rush week?
I'm prepared for the worst. We'll see how it goes.
What if she tells me I have the body of a 90 year old?
What if she tells me I'm already dead?
What if she notices that instead of treating my body like a temple, I've treated it like a frat house during rush week?
I'm prepared for the worst. We'll see how it goes.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Technical difficulties
I'm sitting on my ball. That's the one good thing in my world today.
So much of the magic that is my job happens on Ivan. That's what I call my computer. It's short for "Ivan the Terrible."
It should be noted that it's not really the computer's fault. Between our IT department (run by a hunky yet helpless individual named, appropriately, Christopher) and the company that hosts our Internet services, I am swinging madly at the end of my rapidly fraying rope.
I'm gonna need more coffee, a large brick wall against which to bang my head, and a big margarita. Just drop them off in the lobby.
So much of the magic that is my job happens on Ivan. That's what I call my computer. It's short for "Ivan the Terrible."
It should be noted that it's not really the computer's fault. Between our IT department (run by a hunky yet helpless individual named, appropriately, Christopher) and the company that hosts our Internet services, I am swinging madly at the end of my rapidly fraying rope.
I'm gonna need more coffee, a large brick wall against which to bang my head, and a big margarita. Just drop them off in the lobby.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Tuesday's quirky quickie
So I changed my hours at work to allow me to get to my part-time gig and/or the gym without running my ass off needlessly. I used to work 8:30 to 5; now I work 8:00 to 4:30.
Except today, since it's 5:15 and I'm still here. Sitting on my ball, of course.
I totally got SLAMMED at 4:00. Anything that could have gone wrong, did. Stuff that couldn't have possibly gone wrong found a way, just to spite me. The only good thing to come out of this afteroon is the fact that I have not yet fallen off the ball.
I'm tired, I'm cranky, and I hate New Yorkers.
Except today, since it's 5:15 and I'm still here. Sitting on my ball, of course.
I totally got SLAMMED at 4:00. Anything that could have gone wrong, did. Stuff that couldn't have possibly gone wrong found a way, just to spite me. The only good thing to come out of this afteroon is the fact that I have not yet fallen off the ball.
I'm tired, I'm cranky, and I hate New Yorkers.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Just a quicky
Kelly doesn't like it when I go days without blogging, so I figured I'd better drop by for a quick visit.
No earth-shattering news from Maggie's World. Toiling away at work, looking forward to fall (the maple tree outside my window is going to be so pretty when it changes color) and making time to take care of myself are the top priorities in my life these days.
I joined a gym, which incidentally has an Aveda spa inside it. So, Kel ... am I to assume you'll visit me sometime soon?
Shamie's back from his vacation, volunteering down on the Gulf Coast. As near as I can tell, it did not save his immortal soul from the eternal fires of hell, but he did get a new tattoo.
I'm still sitting on a ball at the office and it really has done wonders for my posture already.
I got confused today and told someone I was 42. I've been "lying up" for so long, I honestly don't remember my age anymore.
Other than that, it's business as usual in my world.
No earth-shattering news from Maggie's World. Toiling away at work, looking forward to fall (the maple tree outside my window is going to be so pretty when it changes color) and making time to take care of myself are the top priorities in my life these days.
I joined a gym, which incidentally has an Aveda spa inside it. So, Kel ... am I to assume you'll visit me sometime soon?
Shamie's back from his vacation, volunteering down on the Gulf Coast. As near as I can tell, it did not save his immortal soul from the eternal fires of hell, but he did get a new tattoo.
I'm still sitting on a ball at the office and it really has done wonders for my posture already.
I got confused today and told someone I was 42. I've been "lying up" for so long, I honestly don't remember my age anymore.
Other than that, it's business as usual in my world.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Maggie at Work, an Illustration
You thought I was kidding about not having a chair. Silly reader, would I kid about something like that?I'm pretty much settled in here at the new building. Working a full day after the way the week started is really going to be taxing to me! I have a few of my favorite things here at the office with me, namely my Eiffel Towar lamp and my photographic homage to Paris, from the days when I worked for a French company. It's definitely my workspace, don't you think?
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Maggie at work
My new fancy schmancy glorified cubicle has a window. It's delightful. I haven't had a window in over a year. Right now I don't have a chair, and there's stuff all over my desk, but I have a window. Life is good.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Foreshadowing?
It took me six years, but I'm putting some of the pieces together.
Six years ago today, September 11, 2001, was my first day back at work after my wedding/honeymoon. I arrived at work just in time for the news reports to start flooding in.
Did the universe know something I didn't, or was this all some cruel coincidence?
The morning we left for our trip, the limo driver called to say he wasn't coming because he overslept.
We got to our destination, but our luggage didn't. It caught up to us in about eight hours.
The resort screwed up our billing so badly I spent time every day trying to ensure we weren't charged for the Presidential Suite.
And then, we came home. Mr. & Mrs. Rathunde went to work only to find our country under attack. The icing on the cake, I suppose.
Was all of the crap associated with our wedding trying to warn me that I was not going to live happily ever after? And would I have done anything differently even if I thought so? Hell, I don't know. But it kept me up last night. And tonight's not looking a whole lot better.
Six years ago today, September 11, 2001, was my first day back at work after my wedding/honeymoon. I arrived at work just in time for the news reports to start flooding in.
Did the universe know something I didn't, or was this all some cruel coincidence?
The morning we left for our trip, the limo driver called to say he wasn't coming because he overslept.
We got to our destination, but our luggage didn't. It caught up to us in about eight hours.
The resort screwed up our billing so badly I spent time every day trying to ensure we weren't charged for the Presidential Suite.
And then, we came home. Mr. & Mrs. Rathunde went to work only to find our country under attack. The icing on the cake, I suppose.
Was all of the crap associated with our wedding trying to warn me that I was not going to live happily ever after? And would I have done anything differently even if I thought so? Hell, I don't know. But it kept me up last night. And tonight's not looking a whole lot better.
Pajamas
Tomorrow, September 12, I get to work in my pajamas.
A few weeks ago, I got a day off because they are moving our offices to a new location and were doing an inventory of the technology that needed to be moved. Tomorrow, the actual move is taking place, and I just have to show up at the new digs for about an hour in the afternoon to point at stuff and say "this goes there."
I still have stuff I need to do - a couple of delightful writing assignments and so forth - but I get to do them on my laptop, from my cozy bed, with my coffee, curled up with the cats, in my jammies.
Life is good.
A few weeks ago, I got a day off because they are moving our offices to a new location and were doing an inventory of the technology that needed to be moved. Tomorrow, the actual move is taking place, and I just have to show up at the new digs for about an hour in the afternoon to point at stuff and say "this goes there."
I still have stuff I need to do - a couple of delightful writing assignments and so forth - but I get to do them on my laptop, from my cozy bed, with my coffee, curled up with the cats, in my jammies.
Life is good.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Birthday (revised)
Last night, my friend Brian called me with his feet in the Gulf of Mexico. I got to hear the waves slosh over his feet. (It doesn't hurt that he has really cute feet.)
It started off a pretty awesome birthday.
So far, it doesn't seem to be letting up.
I may be old, but at least I'm happy!
Update from the actual birthday...
Posted 9/6/2007
So yesterday was the actual birthday. I don't feel any older today, though. I think that's okay. I'm taking the entire month to celebrate. It's the least I should do, don't you think?
Last night, I worked a little late and then went to see my dad. We had a wonderful visit, made even better with brats, beans and potato salad. I love leftovers at Dad's house. We talked a lot. He's the only person alive right now who was there when I got born, so his memories are a true treasure.
He sent me home with a care package - food and toilet paper. You know, the stuff ya really can't live without.
Leaving the house I grew up in, I felt a pang of meloncholy. But I resisted the urge to call Christopher. Even though yesterday was the sixth anniversary of my one and only walk down the aisle, I did not get sappy and let him know I was sentimental. Score one for the aging divorcee.
I ended the evening with a long bath in my awesome tub (have I told you how much I love my bathroom?) complete with music playing and ice cold beer. Which I picked up before the power went off at the bank and it ate my debit card. True story.
It started off a pretty awesome birthday.
So far, it doesn't seem to be letting up.
I may be old, but at least I'm happy!
Update from the actual birthday...
Posted 9/6/2007
So yesterday was the actual birthday. I don't feel any older today, though. I think that's okay. I'm taking the entire month to celebrate. It's the least I should do, don't you think?
Last night, I worked a little late and then went to see my dad. We had a wonderful visit, made even better with brats, beans and potato salad. I love leftovers at Dad's house. We talked a lot. He's the only person alive right now who was there when I got born, so his memories are a true treasure.
He sent me home with a care package - food and toilet paper. You know, the stuff ya really can't live without.
Leaving the house I grew up in, I felt a pang of meloncholy. But I resisted the urge to call Christopher. Even though yesterday was the sixth anniversary of my one and only walk down the aisle, I did not get sappy and let him know I was sentimental. Score one for the aging divorcee.
I ended the evening with a long bath in my awesome tub (have I told you how much I love my bathroom?) complete with music playing and ice cold beer. Which I picked up before the power went off at the bank and it ate my debit card. True story.
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