Monday Madness

Remember our Yellow Room Pet, Little Sweetheart? 

Let me reiterate the fact that although the students adoringly named our new hamster friend "Little Sweetheart," the animal is not remotely sweet nor little as the name suggests. 

Due to Little Sweetheart's nasty personality and tendency to bite everything in sight, the children are not allowed to touch her. Due to Little Sweetheart's nocturnal nature, she stays secluded in her cave throughout the entire school day. Basically, Little Sweetheart prefers not to be watched nor touched. The children love her nonetheless.

Today, Little Sweetheart escaped. The Summer Camp teachers in the Yellow Room showed up this morning to an open cage. I was terrified. A mean, smelly rodent is the last thing I want to run into on a Monday morning. I hate rodents as it is, let alone a vicious hamster the size of a small dog with a bad case of the runs.

It reminded me of the time a few years ago when my neighbor's chinchilla, Bob Tequila, escaped from his cage and we had a neighborhood watch for him. This I can not make up. Not unlike Little Sweetheart, Chinchillas are typically nocturnal and are rarely affectionate pets.  Apparently they also require excessive exercise, which he certainly was not getting in the cluttered basement space he called home. Chinchillas also require a body temperature of under 25 degrees celsius, hence his basement-style living. Imagine the worry we felt when he went missing. All we needed was an exploded Chinchilla in the house. Actually, it would have been better to have about 100 dead chinchillas because then we could have at least made a coat...but that's not here nor there.

For a good two hours, the entire CYC was on the lookout for a not-so-little ball of white fur which would probably be gnawing at something inedible. Like the wires of our beloved copy machine. Or a child's precious lunch bag.

Moments before we were going to call Pest Control to bring a trap for our furry friend, Little Sweetheart was discovered in the office FOUR doors down from the Yellow Room. Take a guess who's booth? Yep, mine.

Little Sweetheart is lucky I wasn't the one who found her.... my shriek would have been enough to blow her ear drums if my instinctual kick didn't kill her first.

Happy Monday everyone!

A Very Special Day

If you were born on July 10th you were in good company. 

Today is the beautiful Jessica Simpson's 31st birthday. Don't tell me she doesn't look a day over 26. 

My cousin Steven is celebrating his 21st birthday with a hangover this morning. Welcome to the club, Steve.

Great-Aunt Emma turns 97 today. She claims she "doesn't celebrate birthdays anymore." Because of course she doesn't. 

Also, Gary LeVox of Rascal Flatts celebrates his birthday today.

And although irrelevant to birthdays, Carrie Underwood celebrates the second anniversary of the day she married her husband! 

Gosh I love July 10th. So many reasons to celebrate. 

Thursday Randomness

"Jason's Sub Shop" on East West Highway is subtitled "Chinese Restaurant." Confusing and intriguing all at the same time.

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You know those people who just have to get the last word in no matter what? I hate them. What's even worse is the texting-version of last-worders. Take this example:

A contact texted me a question about an event on Monday. 

I promptly responded with an answer and coincidentally another question.

This person replied with a quick "Thank u!" and an appropriate answer. 

I politely gave my thanks, and put my phone away.

30 seconds later, my phone buzzes with the words "Yep." 

Yep?? Really? Save your fingers from the carpal tunnel and just leave it at that. 

Please just don't send me one word texts in general. It's annoying and unnecessary.

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I just realized how impossibly terrible my posture is when I sit at the computer. I need to be more conscious of my body in general before I start looking like a hunch-backed slob. 

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A love/hate relationship exists between my favorite silver hoops from Nordstrom. I LOVE them because they are the perfect size. I have yet to find another pair with the precise circumference to thinness ratio. I HATE them because they always break; I am already on my third pair. Thank gosh Nordstrom has such a great return/exchange policy. 

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Today's work week was only 4 days long but it felt twice as long as last week. What's up with that? 

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If you were to translate this post into simile form:

Maggie is like an LFO Song: nonsensical ramblings in lyrical structure. 

I'll steal yo honey like I stole yo bike.  

What I'm Loving Wednesday

I'm loving...

My Purple Roomers. They are obedient, curious, fun, and so darned cute. I miss my Yellow Roomers more than words can say, but I can't complain with the group of in-coming first graders I have this summer.

The mini-aerobics class I taught to the second graders at camp today. I think they had a lot of fun, but not as much fun as the teachers peaking out of their doors giggling at me... can't say I blame them!  It only lasted 15 minutes but I got a way harder workout in than they did. Next week I start teaching for Group Fit again! Woo hoo! 

Clean sheets. I slept in fresh out of the dryer clean sheets last night and it was phenomenal. 

That I get to see Loverboy and my family this weekend! I feel like I miss out on so much when I'm at school, and I can't wait to catch up with everyone. 

That this week is only a four-day school week! Although I love my campers, I'm exhausted by the end of the week! Yay for a Wednesday that feels like Tuesday!

Yoga. I just wish I had more time to practice. 

The memories of my Fourth of July weekend adventures. Take me back...

Bikram Bootcamp

Tonight I hoped to detoxify myself from the gluttony of the weekend by means of my fourth Bikram Yoga class.

For those of you who are unfamiliar: Bikram Yoga is a cult formulaic yoga practice. Each studio is set to precisely 105 degrees with approximately 50 percent humidity (although this evening when I glanced at the thermostat it read 107 degrees with 63 percent humidity...) Each class is composed of 26 different postures, each posture repeated twice. Every Bikram room is carpeted, with at least one wall of mirrors, no music and no escaping.  

Apparently, it's not only the Eastern European Yoga Nazi instructor at the studio I go to here in MD that threatens participants into making them believe they can't leave the room despite nauseau, dizziness, fainting, etc.. Luckily I've never fainted nor came near fainting, but I will say it was definitely hard to persevere and stay in the room throughout my entire first class. 

Now, four classes in, I was able to place my mat in the front row (reserved only for advanced(ish) Yogis) and I completed all 26 postures without having to rest. I was upgraded from being referred to as "Jersey" (or "Jezzy" as the foreigner pronounces it) to "Meggie." The hour and a half felt exactly that instead of the 5 hours I seemed to spend in the sauna my first Bikram experience. 

 I feel tired, dehydrated, yet cleansed, flexible and successful. I feel stronger than I did last week and for the moment I feel thin having sweat out half my water weight. 

I'm still unsure about some of the beliefs Bikram holds but I plan on returning tomorrow for my final class of the 5-day Groupon deal I purchased. ;)

My favorite pose. If only I looked like that when I did it. 

What do you think? Should I continue to give Bikram a chance or go back to my Hot Power Yoga?? 

4th of July

The Fourth of July might seriously be my favorite holiday of the year. Aside from the obvious (sparkles in the sky, parties with family and friends, cheesy festive outfits) here's why: 

Today my calves are sore from literally running up the inclines that lead all the way to the tippy-top of the home of Terrapin Football: Byrd Stadium. 

I've had a stomachache all day, probably due to an overdose of grilled food (sausages, onions and peppers, burgers, etc.) and the war the American (Bud Light) and Mexican (Corona Extra) beers are battling inside me currently. 

My body felt uncomfortably restricted by the boundaries of real clothes.  Since Friday I woke up every morning and put on a bathing suit. The first weekend in July is the perfect excuse to leave pants behind. 

Looks like hours in the sun can really take a toll on you physically. And not in the good bronzed-skin kind of way, more like the I-can-barely-keep-my-eyelids-open long enough to finish this post kind of way. I knew I was exhausted this morning when I couldn't wake up for my favorite 7am spin class and I impatiently snapped at a few of my students mid-afternoon. Sincerest apologies from Ms. Yelencsics. 

The morning of the Fourth of July I thought I wasn't going to make it to celebrate my favorite holiday.

I almost surrendered the Fourth of July to hardcore celebrations of the First, Second, and Third of July. In this way the Third of July is comparable to Cinco De Mayo: It's simply an excuse for Americans to drink more beer with no significant reasoning, with consequences felt on the following day. The only difference? The Fourth of July holds importance that the Sixth of May does not. 

Thankfully, an excited Jillie pulled through and got me back in the pool-going, parking-lot-grilling, adventure-seeking spirit. Phew. 

I spent the afternoon napping at the pool, tailgating in Lot 1 for the College Park fireworks (which, btw, were the best best best fireworks I ever did see) and eventually sneaking into the football stadium to cross one more thing off my Bucket List: Climb to the top of Byrd Stadium after dark.  (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

I was terrified. But we succeeded.  After climbing two fences, hurdling a bike rack and running for what seemed like years, we made it to the top... only to be met by flashlight-bearing Police Officers demanding we "Sneak right back on out whatever way we snuck on in." 

Sarah mesmerized by the BYRD's eye view

Whatever, it was.so.worth.it. Not only were we close enough to the fantastic show on campus to feel our hearts beating with every explosion, we were also able to see fireworks from Downtown DC and Greenbelt.  It was magical. Despite the terror I felt being confronted by two big police officers (I'm such a baby), the soreness my body aches with, and the overwhelming exhaustion, I wish I could relive this weekend over and over again.

Mark my words: July 4th 2012 will be conducted with greater than or equal to as much beer, possibly less desserts, and another trespassing attempt to enjoy the best firework spectacular and thrill of my life. 

Oh, and I love my friends. and America. God Bless us all. 

The Observations of an Outsider

I like to think of myself as an optimistic person. Despite the serious lack of funds with which my four-week unemployment left me, I used the unemployment opportunity to my advantage and turned my free time into beach time.  I studied and practiced the strategies that create exceptional Jersey Shore experiences. I became a Beach connoisseur. A professional Jersey Shore girl.

Then I moved back to Maryland. Although I was excited to start working (broke was an understatement) and to see my roommates, I couldn't help but feel slightly depressed to move so far from the shore.  After 24 hours I was already stressing about when the next time would be when I could lay in the sand and soak up uninterrupted sun. "I want to go to the beach this weekend!" I declared the minute I returned from my five hour work day on Monday. Luckily, Katlyn understood my deep desire and replied with the procurement of house keys to her parent's beach home in Western Ocean City.

Driving to a beach other than in Jersey felt funny. I felt like an outsider, an alien in a foreign land, a Jersey Girl in a land of Skater Bros and Surfer .. er, girls.

For the curious non-Maryland native, here's the low-down on Ocean City through the eyes of a loyal Jersey Girl:

• The beach town is  l o n g. Instead of splitting into separate beaches (like how Belmar turns into Spring Lake after a certain block) it lasts over 145 blocks.  And there is only one main drag you can drive from first street to one-hundred-forty-something street with insane drivers and traffic lights every block. 

• People make u-turns. No jug handles; just balls-to-the-walls u-turns around medians between drivers going 60 mph. You would never see one of these on Ocean Ave back at home: 

• I ordered a sub one night. The woman with six teeth behind the counter looked like I had six heads. Oil and Vinegar? An Italian Roll? You would have thought I was asking for a winning lottery ticket. Impossible. Instead I got Turkey, lettuce, and tomato on a soft roll without the mayo the server tried to make me feel stupid for resisting. 

• Like Jersey, there were a ton of tan shirtless boys walking the streets. The difference was these boys are "bros" with short red shorts and long, sunkissed hair blowing in the wind.  The Guidos of Belmar wouldn't be caught dead with shorts that short. 

• Almost everyone put a blanket down, and their towels on top of the blanket. Why?

• Scopes. Probably the most bizarre concept an outsider looking in must attempt to grasp. Here's the general idea as relayed to me by roommates: A "Scopes" guy or girl lives at the Ocean with a gang of other "Scopes" kids and spends their days (9-5, 7 days a week) walking their designated area of sand, camera bag and obnoxious key chains in tow, begging vacationers to allow them to take their photograph. Because if they do, they can forever cherish a memory of their family posing unnaturally on the beach by peering into a a 1"x3" mini-telescope that can double as a keychain. Rumor has it that they're ridiculously expensive to purchase. Why.would.you.ever?  Locals are visibly annoyed by the constant prodding by "Scopes" workers and onlookers just laugh at the poor Foreigner or new Mom who gives into the Scope Pressure. 

• Exhibit A:I will say that while I would never want to spend my time on the beach lugging a giant camera bag and begging families to allow me to take their photograph, I am envious of the tan and toned legs these Scopes kids procure by endlessly hiking on the beach by the end of the summer

• The beach is FREE. Everywhere! I see two potential outcomes if this became the case in NJ: a) I would be at least a seasonal-badge worth richer every summer, yet, b) There is no saying who and what kind of creepy crawlers would end up on our beautiful shore, currently ruled by the fortunate beach-badge owners. 

All in all, it was an amazing weekend. I spent two days with my best friends, eating boardwalk junk, drinking cheap wine, and showing MD my best bronzing efforts. Not to mention, I obviously learned a lot.