I met Latte Woman early this morning to carpool to the 8:30 am kickboxing class at her gym. We had to be there half-hour prior to start to stake claim in the combat zone, apparently gym going women wage war over classroom positions. Instead of guaranteeing front row, mirror seeing territory, we might or might not have slowed for a game along the way... which inadvertently would set the mood for the morning of adventures.
For the sake of ease, I often reply, "District of Columbia," when questioned on my place of residence. What I really mean is
way way way out in the country--long windy roads, quite a distance from sprawl, an area flooded with more deer than people. Though, you could argue, my town is disguised suburbia, with the added excitement of
many dirt roads. And on these dirt "roads" are ice-covered ponds. True story, no exaggeration.
So weaving over the ponds and through the woods--to the gym--Latte Woman and I went... when a royal blue Honda Fiat started to tailgate us. Erring on the cautious side, Latte Woman was not having this. She slowed from 10 to five miles per hour for the next mile. The Fiat Man continued to push the limit as she pushed the brake. The end eventually came. We are laughing hysterically, knowing we had agitated this driver. (Not exactly nice. Do not tell Santa. I am counting on those gold glitter TOMS!) The right turn on to civilization had not even been completed... and he was in motion to pass. (He is dumb. This is a dirt to pavement turn. On a solid-lined curvy road. With heavy school traffic in both directions.) We were given the middle finger... which only fueled our giggles. This reaction was classic. (Predictable people bore me!) The middle finger was not enough--he proceeded to angrily fist-shake for as long as he remained in sight, which was a short time as he sped off; he had much ground to make up.
A bit guiltily, at the expense of the emotionally poor Fiat Man, our ultimate goal--fun, ahem safety, was accomplished. The classroom was filling as my nerves settled in. I am a stick-to-what-you-know girl, specially when exercise is involved. New experiences have potential to be grand, be that as it may, I am easily frustrated by the learning curve of new skills--ones that take a bit more work. I was going to be brave, swallow my pride, for this hour of kickboxing. I survived. I was far from perfect. The quick-paced routine did not jive well with my lack of coordination. I felt insure going left when the group was punching right. As a child everyday is about navigating the ropes of new activities, rules, subjects, etc. I aspire to embrace the patience, and often encouragement required, to increase my comfort level for the unexplored areas of life. And while I certainly ruled 'kickboxing instructor' out of my future, I am not opposed to giving the student role another go. (I had to tuck this nugget of 'lessons I'm learning' in. A new experience can be classified as an adventure.)
When class ended, we climbed on the StairMaster. My relationship with this machine was over before it started. This is quite a different muscle group from the running set. Drenched in sweat, we departed for Global Food... and could not pass up Starbucks on the way. (Hooray for reusable mugs!)
Here, I knocked over a perfectly displayed shelf. If the noise of bouncing plastic was not loud enough to demand attention, the laugh from Latte Woman was. Together we managed to repair the shelf and not-so-neatly display the contents... when Latte Woman mimics my klutzy maneuver. We were not well received, for the second time today.
The coffee was supposed to put us at ease. It might or might not have revved up my enthusiasm, already at a high--I have been dying to explore Global Food. (We, the H's, are running a three-drivers-to-one-car operation. My nonexistent paycheck makes me a low priority on the totem pole.) Latte Woman is a local at Global Food, but she happily futzed through each isle with me.
I might or might not have said, "in Lesotho... " one too many times because at one point I was demonstrating 'my life in buckets' when I found the exact replicas. (Lesotho was not actually being represented,
business in Lesotho is predominantly Chinese-owned. If you are in the market for some cheap, brightly colored, plastic I recommend purchasing these in Lesotho, the price tag, in dollars, is read in Rand over there. The exchange rate is not 1:1, not even remotely close.)
As I jumped in the bucket with Starbucks in hand, Latte Woman shouted, "They do NOT have Starbucks in Africa!" The Store Manager promptly addressed business in our isle. Not before we had our fun:
Other highlights: Being read to in Farsi. The discovery of guava paste. Impressively low priced produce. And an introduction to Latte Woman's favorite Korean dish.
Then we continued with her errands, which became my errands, before deciding we were hungry and should make headway home....
To this discovery in route:
The Virginia Department of Transportation made the executive decision to administer a lesson in karma. Caffeinated to an extreme, we took the teaching in stride. The 30-minute delay passed with excess laughter and 100 pictures to document the occasion. This might or might not have been the funniest thing ever.
I am still laughing... envisioning Fiat Man's extended finger... and remembering the delightful tone this set for our morning.
