A sure way for me to feel relaxed, is to hit the beach. Works every time. I’m not sure exactly why. The combination of sun, wind, sand and water is some sort of magical concoction for me.
We have a group of friends that often get together for some beach volleyball and last weekend we finally made it out for the first time this year. I thought it would be so fun to introduce Max to the beach. He could experience sand and feel the cool ocean on his little feet. And we’d capture it all with some great photos and video.
But, things took a turn after about 30 minutes of laying out the blankets. Max ended up in a crying fit for most of our visit due to an unexpected visit from the lovely gas fairy. I don’t know if it was the carrots he was introduced to that morning? Or the extra bottle of formula (in lieu of breastmilk) he had because we were out for the day? But something didn’t sit right and we spent most of our beach visit overcoming the gas episode. Our poor friends were probably like, Umm…who invited the crying baby?
Somehow I still walked away from there feeling relaxed. But poor Max may grow up not really liking the beach, and forever wonder why. So, we’ll definitely have to get back out there and make it a fun experience for him. Sans gas.
I rarely have any me time anymore, but yesterday I got away for a whole two hours to run errands and quickly hit the gym. After a work out, I love sitting in the steam room for some quiet relaxation (hopefully in solitude).
Instead, I got a little chatter box sitting next to me. She says “Did you hear the news about the American soldiers being killed?” Why is this woman talking to me? And why about THAT? Now? Here in the steam room of quiet relaxation? First, I wanted to say, “That’s hardly news – who doesn’t already know about that? And, why oh why, would you bring that up here, now, with me?” But I didn’t. Instead I said, “Oh yes, very sad.”
What I REALLY should have said was, “Look. Lady. You seem very nice, but I have a fourteen week old baby at home and this 15 minute stop in the steam room is my tiny little time away from the world, things, responsiblities, stress, including HORRIBLE NEWS STORIES. So take your little chit chat and shove it up take it out on the street. Please. And thank you.”
Being an adult is not as much fun as being a kid. Who hasn’t heard that one before? But is it really true?
Well, let’s see. Think of all the things you COULDN’T do back then, that you can now do. You couldn’t drive. You had to come home whenever your parents told you to. You couldn’t talk on the phone as much as you wanted (at least I couldn’t). You weren’t allowed to drink (legally).
There’s also a lot you didn’t know (although try telling that to your younger ‘know it all’ self).
But now, you know so much. Sometimes too much. And ignorance truly can be bliss.
And sure, now you can do whatever you want. But can you really? When is the last time you heard someone say they WANTED to buy life insurance, car insurance, home insurance, health insurance. And that of course means you HAVE to work to pay for all those things. And that’s just the insurance. Not the actual things you are insuring.
With Max being born, Joe and I recently bought the only insurance we didn’t yet have: Life Insurance. And it just got me to thinking: Dang, they get you in so many ways, don’t they? (“They” meaning those bastards who’ve defined what it means to be a “responsible” adult.)
And sometimes I think: “Why, oh why, didn’t I take the blue pill?” (for my fellow Matrix fans).
And for you non-Matrix fans: “Why didn’t I choose to just be some lone drunk hanging out at casino’s in Vegas all day?”
If you haven’t seen these before, you’re in for a treat. Hitler, speaking in German, is on a rant. And what that rant is depends on the person typing in those witty subtitles.
Here in Los Angeles, a main freeway is being closed down for a weekend. It’s known as Carmaggedon. And Hitler is REALLY pissed about it. How is he supposed to get to the LAX?
If you’d like to see more videos like this one, just go to Youtube and type in “Hitler rants”.
