So, since everything in the news is the same old song and dance, “Bush Lied”, “Kerry was in Vietnam Cambodia Vietnam”, all the ridiculous coverage of trials going on, (innocent until proven guilty jackholes....what is the point in speculating when you don’t have all the facts?), and the soldiers in Iraq still fighting for the people of that country regardless of how some on the Iraqi soccer team feel, since it doesn’t appear that much has changed in the last six months, I’m not even bothering with politics at this point.
Instead, I thought I’d regale you with more little stories from my daily experiences here at the DuToit compound.
First and foremost, dealing with paooki is a lot easier these days as I just experienced a few moments ago. No longer will I see one, freeze up in fear and go through the histrionics that normally follow, (building up the courage to take a second look to get the co-ordinates correct, working up the nerve to kill it, killing it and then fleeing to the opposite side of the room, curling up into a ball and rocking back and forth, moaning, then finding it in me to pick up the carcass and dispose of it followed by another bout of freaking out and rubbing down mountain ranges of goosebumps and doing everything in my power not to vomit from the fear). Now all I have to do is see one, freeze up, fling myself to the opposite side of the room, state, “Oh hell no!” and point in the general direction and one of the precious, lovely teen-agers, my paook warriors, my little saviors, will come along and very non chalantly kill it and remove its crumpled remains and I can carry on with my day.
Magic.
The daughter has been inspired, I think, by the Olympics, which we watch every night, to get up and get exercise. Knowing how difficult it is to stay motivated without a work out partner, I volunteered to exercise with her. Also, hell, I know I’ve gained some weight since I moved in here and I can certainly benefit from getting a little exercise myself. Now that I know the food isn’t going to disappear, that more will continue to show up, that I won’t starve or go hungry one or two days each week, (and yes, I most certainly have endured this), I’m beginning to calm down there. I know now that when I open the fridge, there will actually be food present. Nonetheless, working out is a good idea for anyone of any size or age and I need to get my ankle back into shape on top of all of that.
So, each day we go swimming in the pool and do laps. It’s not a big pool but we do lap after lap after lap and up it by two each day. Today we are doing 32 laps. Then, later in the evening, we go for walks and get a good workout there. Granted, we’re not out there with 5 pound weights strapped to our wrists and ankles and we’re by no means medal contending swimmers, but we just started 6 days ago. Wendy is a good motivator as she is continually knocking on my door, “So, when are we going swimming” or if I walk out of my room later, I see her downstairs, all dressed and she says, “I’m ready to go walking whenever you are.” This prompts a lot of grumbling and mumbling out of me because I hadn’t mentally prepared myself to do this at that precise moment but keeping my word always wins out over laziness. Especially with kids. You cannot say you’ll do something to a kid and then not follow through. That’s so completely fucked up and I refuse to break a promise to a kid if I have any say so in the matter...no matter how tired or unmotivated or badly I wish not to do it right at that very second.
So yesterday after the range, we went to Academy and got work out clothes. Personally I think the whole idea of work out clothes is just a rip off but if it helps keep her motivated, let’s get the damn work out clothes. So I got some new “walking” pants....cool Nike pants and a shirt and a hat to keep the damn sun off my face. I also got some really good Reebok shoes. Now, I am a firm believer in getting the proper shoes for the activity and these Reeboks are going to make a difference.
Then I got swimming goggles because I didn’t feel like I looked stupid enough swimming in the pool in my shorts and a t-shirt, (no swimming suit), and wanted to look as ridiculous as possible. Also the chlorine burns my eyes and turns them red and I end up looking as if I just finished a 5 night drinking binge by the time I get out of the pool.
You may have caught it when I said, “after the range” just above and yes, again, I did go to the range yesterday. Shot the usual Kahr PM9 owned by the range and felt I was doing pretty poorly yesterday. I was anticipating way too many times and just wasn’t feeling too good about my results. Being a perfectionist means there is no such thing as “good enough”. I always set my goals high and work hard to achieve them. I rarely have the ability to say to myself, “Ok, that’s good enough, I’m done.” So in that sense, perfectionism is a good thing when it comes to getting where one wishes to be in life. However, being a perfectionist also has its downfalls. If my targets are not blasted into giant, gaping holes, it’s not a good shooting day for me. The problem with that is I tend to forget to just enjoy myself. I was finally able to tell myself to just have fun on my last 50 rounds and in the end, I really didn’t do as badly as I thought I was doing afterall:
I shot at the 5, 7 and 9 marks in the range area. I don’t remember exactly the distances those all represent but I know one is like 15 feet and one is 20 feet or 25 feet....dunno. Don’t really care at this point. Anyway, while I was shooting, there were 3 guys shooting to my left and two guys shooting to my right. I overheard some of them on the left talking and it appeared that it was one guy’s first day shooting. Always cool. More gun enthusiasts is always a very good thing. Kim was done before I was and left the room to wait out in the lobby area.
As I had just finished up, the two guys from my right came over to me and asked me, “How do you shoot so accurately?” Now this threw me off because I didn’t feel I was shooting all that accurately that day. (Remember, unless I leave a gaping hole, I’ve not been ‘accurate’ according to me.) I stared at him in disbelief for a few seconds, my mind wanting my mouth to exclaim, “Dude? Didn’t you see the target?”, but instead I told him of the things I’ve had to work on. Like anticipating the damn shot garrr! and learning to hold the gun differently and then finally, I showed him how I look down the sites. So, with hands blackened from gun powder, I gave him a few instructions on what to do with the sites and lining up and where to concentrate and all that fun; just teaching what I had been taught, and sent him on his way. He and his friend thanked me for my time and later, as we left the range at the same time, he thanked me again and yes, of course, my ego swelled just a tad after that experience. Someone asked me for shooting tips!? Hahahahahahahahahhahahaha! That’s rich!
As an aside, and I’ve said this before and it’s not an insult to anyone, but I have noticed that most of the time, I do shoot better than a lot of guys at the ranges I visit and it’s not because I’m more talented, it’s because, as was explained to me by an amazing shooter, (Jim, Smoke on the Water), it’s because girl shooters tend to listen more and don’t have these ideas in their head of going out to the range and blasting through 5 magazines and looking tough. Not all guys do this but some guys just don’t listen to those who try to teach them proper shooting techniques. Anyway, I never pass up a moment to brag so there’s my little range story for the week.
Now, I think I have to go swimming. I’m really tired and just feel like laying around all day but I made a promise and besides, although my new “work out” clothes fit, I don’t especially look good in them so I may as well get off my backside and go get to looking smokin’ in them.
This will be worth it someday. This will be worth it someday. This will be worth it someday.
Sigh.
<--- Here Endeth The Lesson
