I'm thankful for a lot of stuff...mainly that I wasn't in need of FEMA assitance. Lourdy, wotta clusterf&(* that still is. I'm also thankful that my family's doing well, the huband's still here, my health is OK, and that I have roller derby to take out my aggression on.
Today was a fun and funny day. Before heading on down to Torrance for BBQ turkey at the sister-in-law's pad, I decided to make a preemptive strike on the scale tomorrow by getting a bicycle ride to the Santa Monica stairs in so that I don't feel so guilty when I pig out. I went, climbed up and down the stairs three times, and rode towards home.
On Ocean Blvd. I saw a motorcycle coming in the opposite direction, and it turned out to be our good friend PB. I yelled at him, but he didn't notice me and turned onto a side street. I decided to try and catch up to him. On the bicycle. While he's on a motorcycle. Good plan, jeenious! PB turns another corner and I actually manage to make up some lost ground because he was going at a leisurely pace while I was hauling ass. At the next stop light I pull up next to him. He glances over at me with no recognition and utter disdain just as the light turns green. Dammit! He takes off. I follow. On the bicycle. While he's on a motorcycle. What the hell is wrong with me?!
The next block finds him stopped at another red light. Same thing happens--just as I get to him, the light turns green and he takes off. That happened two or three times going up Second St. in Santa Monica. I noticed that PB was looking in his rearview mirror at me, but still with absolutely no recognition that he actually knows this nutbar who's trying to catch up to him. I was even laughing very loudly and he didn't recognize that, either. Finally he shook me, so I pulled over and called his wife, MB, who happens to be one of my favoritest people ever.
I relayed the story to her between gasps of air, and she laughed. Apparently PB doesn't find cyclists endearing, so it's no wonder that he dissed my ride. That just made the whole experience even more funny to me. She promised to give him a ration of crap for me. Pwned!!!!!!!
Dinner at the sister-in-law's later in the afternoon was entertaining. Every year the niece(S) and nephew-in-law(A) are in attendance, and every year I torture the little buggers. S is around ten years old, A is around eight. Perfect for flinging up in the air, swinging around, lifting them by their ankles and shaking vigorously, tickling mercilessly, and threatening to throw them down the stairs.
They love being threatened with being thrown down the stairs.
For the first hour that I was there they virtually ignored me. But then, they got bored. For the rest of the time that we were there, I riled them up into a frenzy. Both S and A are pretty smart, but they also apparently don't get rough-housed enough. I thought I could tire them out. Not so. They used me as a human jungle gym. I got a helluva workout. I hope. I ate an obscene amount of food to compensate, so we'll see.
By the time we left, the kids were still going strong and tried to physically stop us from going. The husband lifted them up and gently bonked their heads on the ceiling to dissuade them. They loved that almost as much as being threatened with being thrown down the stairs. As we left the house and walked to our car parked down the block, we were able to hear A's screams of anger and frustration at our departure. And people wonder why I don't have kids!