Being that my boys are theater freaks, I try to stay on top of all the shows that are coming to the Richmond area. I received an email tonight that Rock of Ages is coming to the Carpenter Center. Is it wrong that I am absolutely dying to see this show? I've seen the movie about a gazillion times.... and truly, I don't think I've seen Tom Cruise look better. After a string of really crappy movies, Tommy Boy knocks this one out of the park.
I've officially become a Rock of Ages groupie!!! Every time it's on, I have to stop & watch - like a train wreck, but with great 80's tunes!!
Maybe is the soundtrack - this was my era. I am a child of the 80's.
Maybe it's the tattoos - Tom Cruise is covered in them.... and that's not a bad thing.
Maybe it's just the cheese factor - every now and then, ya just got to say WTF?!?!? and go with it!!!
Whatever the case may be, I am completely stoked that I have my tickets for the June 9th showing at the Carpenter Center!! And the seats are great!!!! Orchestra Right - row C - seats 10 & 12. I'll be about 8 rows from the stage. Thank you, richmondcenterstage.com!!!! You've made this 80's chick very, very happy!!! Wonder if I'll need to revive my neon t-shirt, pencil skirt, and lace midriff cover??? What's your guilty pleasure??
Daily Quip #2
First, let me thank everyone that stopped by to take a look around. My goal is a blog post per day, and some days, I may not have an opportunity to sit down at my laptop until fairly late. As I am learning my way around "blogtopia," please be patient. There may be changes to my blog space as I find new and interesting things to include.
For the quip: My goal in this process is to try to find something humorous every day. Today, my humor came at the gym. I recently completed 9 months of interning for my Master's degree. So, being that I work full time, have three kids, a husband, a home, and two dogs.... that interning stuff kinda cramped up my schedule. I have not had time to go to the gym, work out, or anything remotely close to taking care of myself. I made myself a promise that when my internship was done, I'd get back to the gym on a regular basis. Last week was my first time back. My friend convinced me that I should take a body sculpting class. Now, I know enough about work-outs that calling it body sculpting is a way to lure people in. It embodies connections to Rembrandt, Picasso, and DaVinci. "This class will turn your body into a masterpiece" is what most people will hear in their head. What they don't realize is that shit is a marketing ploy. Body sculpting is the gym's way of letting all the instructors know that they have free reign for 60 minutes to contort others' bodies to do things that make the average person look like they're fucking a chicken. Well, being secure in who I am, I welcomed the chicken-fucking poses, and asked Col. Sanders for more. I went to my second body sculpting class tonight.
The class started out great. The instructor had a lot of energy but kept the exercises at a fairly low bounce. This is important for gals like me - anything over a C-cup, and that bouncing crapola hurts to no end. I'm grateful when there's no bounce. Halfway through the class, the instructor asked everyone to lay on their step benches because she was going to have the class work on core strength (i.e., trying to tone that flabby gut). About three crunches in, I felt a very sharp pain in my lower abdominal area. Holy Christ - what in the name of Jon Bon Jovi is that???? I tried to sit up and every muscle in my body basically screamed a resounding EFF OFF!! I could not move. Now, try to get a visual of this..... there are two girls next to me wearing their high school CHEER shirts. They probably weigh 85 pounds soaking wet..... combined. There's two guys in the corner one mat down from me. They are trying to keep their legs in the air like the instructor is doing without pinning their balls between their own ass cheeks and the step benches. There's a lady who I found out after class was 76 years old. She must be related to that guy who doesn't get old from the Lord of the Rings books. She was lifting weights and throwing out every exercise bit that the instructor gave us. And then there's me.... my middle-aged, extremely pale (dear God, I didn't notice it until my feet were in the air and the soft glow of florescent lights bounced off my legs - people left the class without sight), and somewhat chubby self stuck to my step bench as if God himself had stapled me there. When I was finally able to roll off my bench (think weeble-wobble), I was on my knees, head facing the gym floor, seeing stars. The instructor told me that it's either a muscle cramp or a muscle pull. I should ice it (fuck, are you kidding??? put an ice pack on my flabby stomach?? I wonder if she realizes that fat DOES NOT congeal??) and discontinue any abdominal isolation exercises for the next 24-48 hours so it can heal.
At this point, I got very tickled. The thought came to mind - hell, I acquired this ring o' shame around my middle from carrying rather large twins. Granted, it was 18 years ago, but that's beside the point. I found it funny that the instructor stressed to me not to strain myself, so it was very important for me to wait the 24-48 hours resting period. All I could think was - I've carried this shit for 18+ years.... another two days will not kill me!! I know - for a fact - that I did not look eager to get right back into my work out. I left feeling like my arms were made of Jell-o, and I was trying to figure out how I would be able to drive home with my feet since I couldn't raise my arms. No, please let me work out some more.....if I don't get one more workout in, I'll never be thin and beautiful (insert raised middle finger here).
So, I experienced the pain side of exercise tonight. I gained a good laugh.... but I don't think that's what they meant by "no pain, no gain." And to that, I'll leave you with my mantra for life: I came in this world, little and naked. I'm going out big and clothed!!!
