Weight for Me!

This month, The Boy is at his deadbeat dad's house in California. He's there for the entire month of June and the first two weeks of July. Four years ago in 2008, when he began going there for the summer, I spent the summer enjoying the quiet and only worrying about myself-something that I hadn't been able to do for a few years as I'd had full custody of The Boy since his father and I separated in late 2005.

The following year, in 2009, I whiled away the time he was gone taking mini vacations and stay-cations.

Last summer, The Accountant and I had our first date just hours after I'd put The Boy on the plane to California and I'd spent the summer getting to know him better, with a few road trips mixed in with my girlfriends from work.After moving in together and settling into a comfortable routine as well as dealing with some stressful situations not related to our relationship, The Accountant and I have put on a few pounds. This summer, we decided that we were going to be as active as we can be and try and do something each day, even if it's just going for a late night stroll. The Accountant would continue with the karate classes that he and The Boy take twice a week during the school year and supplement the other days with other activities such as P390X and/or cardio.

When I met The Accountant, he was working out at the gym most every day. He had a great body with toned arms and, I must say, a fantastic butt. With all the changes that have gone on in the past year, he stopped going to the gym and eventually cancelled his membership, citing karate twice a week as a good enough substitute. Although he still looks great to me, he has lost a bit of definition.

I, on the other hand, have no definition whatsoever. Probably because I don't work out. Oh alright, it's definitely because I don't work out and because I like to eat. The karate class that The Accountant and The Boy traipse off to on Tuesday & Thursday's? Been there, done that. I didn't like it. My job during the day is too regimented and everything I do there is monitored. I don't need the same scenario for my extracurricular activity. And before I tell you how I got myself out of going to boot camp karate, let me just say that I have been sick off and on for the past two years with a stomach pain like no other, often forcing me to miss getting beat up by others karate class. After going to karate class off and on (mostly off) for 2-3 months, I told The Accountant that I would try it one more time but I was pretty sure I was not going to continue. The final time I went to class last November, I ended up in a street fight practicing with a girl several years my junior who didn't know her own strength and hit me several times (I had the bruises the next day to prove it). I was not happy. On the way home that night, The Boy, who was then close to earning his yellow belt said to me, 'No offense Mom, but I don't think you're cut out for karate'. I think I heard angels singing. He didn't want me to be left out of the action though and suggested other sports I could do like soccer or dodge ball (wth?). I agreed with him 'I wasn't cut out for karate' and told him I would find something to do on my own. Have I looked back with remorse? Nope, not once. Had I found a replacement physical activity? Nope, didn't even look. Until about May, when The Accountant suggested we both start working out again over the summer so when The Boy gets back from California, we would have a routine and The Boy could join us. I did alot of research on the Internet and ended up signing up for a Belly Dance class with a Zumba class immediately afterwords on Thursday nights. Why dread going to class two nights a week when I can get it done in two and half short hours on one night? Following that same thought process, why suffer alone? Why not drag six of my favorite co-workers with me? Good workout? Pain and sweating? Laughing with my friends while making fools of ourselves? Check, check and check!

Still, I needed something to fill in Tuesday nights while The Accountant was at karate. Foolishly, I bought a Groupon for Hot Yoga. It sounded like a good idea at the time. If Yoga is good for you, Hot Yoga must be better, right? Possibly. What I didn't think through was that the Groupon was for 20 classes that must all be taken by September. Did I mention I live in Arizona where the highs in the summer are at least 120 degrees? No, not well thought out. I took one class two weeks ago. I'm not sure if I'll go back but on the bright side, I discovered that I could get the same lasting effects of Hot Yoga if I were to turn my air conditioning off in my house, open the windows and thoroughly clean my house in the nude. Multi tasking at it's best-saves travel time and gas, plus I'd have a cleaner, albeit, hotter house.

So, The Accountant does karate on Tuesday & Thursday nights. I do Belly Dancing and Zumba classes on Thursday nights. How do we fill in the other days? We walk if we can stand the heat. On the nights when it's still close to 100 degree's at 8:00 P.M., we resort to workout DVDs. I persuaded him to do about 40 minutes of regular Yoga with me one night due to my body being sore from just starting to work out and needing the yoga to loosen me up. He did very well with it. I was impressed.






This is Him-just kidding!

 The same week, he suggested we 'step it up' and do Jillian Michael's 30 Day Shred. As I mentioned earlier, I don't usually work out. There are a few reasons for this: 1)I hate it. 2) I start working out and then am stuck in bed with abdominal pain. 3) I don't see the benefit of the workout I'm doing (Jane Fonda, I'm talking to you, grapevines? Really?). The 30 Day Shred DVD is different though. I had done it in the distant past and almost worked my way up to level 2 but it's hard. Twenty minutes total for each level containing Cardio, abdominal, and combined weight training/combined movements. I'd liked this DVD in the past and agreed to give it another go.

As we were waiting for the DVD to get to past the advertisement for other Biggest Loser workout DVDs, I was setting up workout mats and getting the hand weights out. The Accountant takes a look at the 2 pound hand weights and asks 'Do I have to use these? Can I use my own?' I thought, Wow, he's awfully cocksure for a guy who hasn't done more than karate in a year. 'You can use whichever weights you want', I answered. He bustled off to the weightlifting set in our room, which by the way, has gone unused since I bought it for him for Valentine's Day and brought back barbells that weighed 5 pounds each. What he was thinking at this point, I'll never know. Of course the barbells weren't exactly as he wanted them to be so even though the DVD was finally ready to play, we were not. I waited patiently while he adjusted the knobs on either side of each barbell.  Finally, he deemed himself ready and willing and we started the DVD. It started out well enough. A bit of warm up exercise and some jumping jacks which we both sailed on through like the pro's we are. Then came the squats. As I mentioned earlier, these are combined workouts so it's not just squats, it's squats with weight lifts, One leg in front, weights overhead, squat down, and bring the weights to your ears, raise the weights and your body back up, repeat. My 'professional weightlifter" made it halfway through two of these with his 2.5 barbells then damn near fell over while trying to throw them to the ground to get the 2 pound hand weights that I'd originally put out for him to use.

 Me, being the supportive girlfriend that I am, started laughing hysterically and hardly made it through the rest of my squats. Next up was push ups. I missed doing about 10 of them because I was laying on my stomach laughing so hard. When I finally caught my breath, I said to him 'You might want to try doing these girlie style with your knees bent, that might be more your speed'. By this point, he was laughing hard too.

After the workout, he tried to reclaim his Man Card. He tried to say that yes, the dumbbell says 2.5 on the side but that's just for the weight. The bar in the middle makes the whole thing more than 2.5 pounds. 'How much more?' I asked, thinking he would say at least 5 pounds. 'Uhm..at least a pound if not a pound in a half,' 'So why doesn't the weight on the side just say the actual weight of the dumbbell then?' I asked. He gave me a sheepish look and said 'It's just a known fact that this is how it is'. I didn't believe him then, and still don't believe him today. He tried to "man up" and then had to "man down". The barbells are still parked in the workout room where he left them a week ago. I'm not sure if he leaves them there as a reminder to me so I can laugh each time I pass by them, or if he's too sore to lift them up and put them away.

You're Not at Your Bachelor Pad

I work with over 260 people, of which, over 95% are women. My job is open around the clock and every day of the year.  There are about 40 people per shift. The majority of us like to eat often and eat well. On average, we have at least one potluck a month. Only for important things like holidays, retirements, National Left Hander's Day, a full moon...you get the point. We have some really talented cooks and bakers on our shift. I don't happen to be one of them. I'm 38 and only started cooking about three years ago, but that's another story. For the Fourth of July, I signed up to bring peanut butter cookies for two reasons: 1) I had made them before and lived and 2) they are gluten free and if I could eat nothing else from the potluck, at least I'd have my cookies. Sure, there are alot of main dishes that are gluten free that I could have made, but would require other people to be subjected to my cooking. I have to work with these people, I didn't want to be reminded every time there was a potluck about the food poisoning/burnt food/what the hell was that suppose to be unsavory dish I contributed last time. Hey, so many women in one small space-we get katty competitive.

I had been dating The Accountant for about a month in a half at that point and one of the many things I liked about him was that he like to do things with me. It didn't matter what it was, he was happy as long as we were doing it together and between the two of us, we always found something to laugh about.

The Accountant came over after work to help bake cookies. We got everything we needed from the pantry and started combining the items while we preheated the oven. We were having fun talking about our day and working side by side. I say side by side because the actual work space in my kitchen was very limited. It was difficult enough to fit one person in there but to fit two people in there was even more of challenge and the heat from the oven made the situation even more difficult. Add to this, the July heat in Arizona and we may as well have been baking the cookie dough on the sidewalk.

After making those nifty fork marks in the cookie dough, we placed both trays of cookies on the racks in the oven. I was setting the timer on the microwave and The Accountant was at the sink. He asked me a question and I turned his way to answer him and stopped abruptly. My mouth dropped open and my eyes bulged out of my head. I couldn't believe it! He was wiping his sweaty brow with my dish towel! 'What?' he asked. 'What are you doing?' I asked him in disbelief. 'What? I was sweating,' he said, looking at the yellow dish towel in his hand, 'is this not okay?' Um-no. I grew up in a household where you washed your hands before dinner-in the bathroom. If you had something on your face or clothing that shouldn't be there,you took care of it- in the bathroom. In recent years, I'd acquired several different hand towels, none of which I had ever used to do more than dry my hands on after they were clean. 'No, it's not okay, in fact, it's really gross!'. My mind flashed back to a conversation he and I had once had on the telephone. He was talking about living on his own and how when he left his ex-wife, he only left with necessities. For the past three years, he'd been working on buying household supplies as he needed them. He'd mentioned in passing that often times he would come home from the gym, eat dinner, and then use his sweat towel from the gym to wipe down the counters while cleaning up the kitchen. I'd laughed about it at the time because I thought he was joking! Standing there that night in the hot kitchen, looking at the yellow hand towel and then at the look of bewilderment on The Accountant's face, I realized he wasn't joking. I shook my head and said 'No, it's not okay, in fact, it's really gross.' 'What am I suppose to use?' he asked. It seemed like a no-brainer. 'How about a paper towel?' I asked. 'But that's wasteful.' I shewed him away with my hand, 'Go put the towel in the laundry room please. There are plenty of CLEAN ones where that came from.' He did as I asked and then returned, looking a tad embarrassed. 'I'm sorry,' he said, 'are you grossed out now? Am I untouchable now?' I shook my head and started laughing. I figure, if you're going to laugh about it someday, you may as well start as soon as you can. I gave him a hug and whispered in his ear 'Don't ever do that again. Promise me that even when I'm not here, you will find another way.' He laughed as he opened the oven to take the first batch of cookies out. 'I promise.' he said leaning over to remove the cookie sheets. I think I heard him mutter the word germophobe under his breath. The following day, I washed the rest of the hand towels that I had hanging on the towel rack in my kitchen and threw in the bath towels for good measure as I didn't know what other "habits" he had that I didn't know about.

Training the Bachelor's Tip #1: Dish towels are for drying dishes and hands while in the kitchen.

Training the Bachelor Tip #2: These are to be used for everything else.

As time went on, we got to know each other better. Not the "I'm on my best behavior and not going to show you the real me just yet" behavior, but the day to day getting to know each other, I came to realize he's even more particular about things than I am. Especially with The Boy. Here are just a few of the things he finds appalling: dirty socks on the living room floor. Talking with food in your mouth. Having a fork full of food shoved in your face and being told to 'try this'. Anytime the food on his plate is touched by anyone other than himself. Walking around the house in nothing but your underwear (The Boy, not me). I'm the germophobe? Takes one to know one, Accountant Man!

This happened almost a year ago, and the "hand towel incident" comes up in conversation from time to time. It's as funny to us today as it was a year ago. I'm glad I chose to laugh at it this social faux paus. It builds character and memories.

The Beginning (or How The Accountant Woo'd Me into a Fourth Date)

My first date with The Accountant took place on June 9th, eight days after we began talking on the phone. During these lengthy phone calls, we each talked alot about ourselves but seeing as we met online, any previous dating disasters online romances were fair game as well. The Accountants recent online dating history included but was not limited to: a grown woman who showed up to play pool and shoot darts wearing a beret and continually asked him to make her shots "because she was a girl" (she was in her mid thirties); a white woman who was confident enough with herself to repeatedly use the phrase "N----- puh-lease!"; one who not only wanted to get it on with him halfway through dinner at the nearest hotel on their first date, but also wanted him to go to the zoo with her and her small child the next day, and finally, a woman who was so frustrated with her current choice of dating options, she advised him on their third date that she was going to move to Uruguay if he didn't commit to a serious relationship. My recent online romances included: a man a few years younger than me who seemed perfectly normal during our first phone call but rapidly transitioned to freak abnormal when he became obsessed with the topic of anal sex and couldn't figure out  why I wasn't game (that one doesn't really count as I quickly cancelled our plans to meet but it's a fun story none the less); one date with a man with a famous last name who seemed nice enough but upon doing research I discovered that the reason his last name was familiar was because he was the brother of a local serial killer; a man who claimed he was 5ft 8 inches but I looked him in the eye wearing two inch heels (I'm 5ft 2inches) and also noticed he was wearing a hairpiece. The best story I had to share with The Accountant was 'Mr. Eight Days and I Love You'. Yes, I met him, met his kids, spent six out of eight days with him and did nothing more than kiss him and he told me he loved me. He was devastated when the feelings weren't mutual. Apparently, I have co-dependency radar commitment issues, according to him, anyway. We each had a good laugh at the expense of other's because that's how we roll. The night before we were due to meet, The Accountant told me that he wasn't sure he loved me but he knew he liked me,was it okay to still meet? 'Yes,' I said, 'I like a man who knows how to take it slow.' 'Slow,' he asked, 'does that mean that I can't give you a ring on our first date and propose?' 'Not on our first date,' I replied, 'I'm not that kind of a girl'.

We agreed to meet at a restaurant called Maria Maria at Tempe Marketplace. I was lost fashionably late by oh 10-30 minutes. When we met in person we were both relieved to see that yes, we did look like our pictures (you'd be surprised how many people from online don't-Hairpiece Harry, I'm talking to you) and after we got a table,that conversation flowed just as easily as it had on the phone. I found him to be cute and funny. And then...he thought it would be fun to show me a couple of magic tricks. I thought to myself Really? But he seemed so normal.... The first one was a mind reading trick that went off without a hitch but freaked me out until he explained the trick behind the trick. The second one involved him pretending to eat a piece of paper. This trick didn't work out so well and we both got a good laugh out of it. Thankfully, those were the only two tricks that he knew. After dinner he grabbed hold of my hand as we were leaving and casually walked me over to a sitting area that was centered around a fireplace. He got down on one knee, pulled out  ring box and said 'I'm having a really good time tonight, will you see me again?'. He opened the box and revealed the gaudiest black ring with an expansion band on it. I laughed and acted like I was wiping tears away and said 'Oh my gosh! Yes! Yes!'. He of course, bought me the ring as a joke. I one upped him by wearing it the rest of the night. He still mentions this fact whenever the ring comes up. 

                                          See? Gaudy! So full of faux diamonds that it tends to  
                                          lean to one side or the other. I still wear it on special
                                          occasions, but not in public.

On our second date, we met at the same place and he greeted me with one long stem red rose. He drove us to a cute restaurant called Casey Moore's. The restaurant had outside seating and smoking was allowed. Of course, I hadn't brought my cigarettes because I didn't know if he knew I smoked and I didn't want that to be a deterrent to our dating. During dinner, I managed to work in the topic of vices and asked if he had any. He said he liked to play Craps but wasn't great at it and hardly ever gambled. I slipped in the part about me smoking. He said he knew because I listed it in my profile. No negative remarks about smoker's and no lighting up for me but at least I got it out in the open. We went to a piano bar called Big Bang where there were dueling pianist/comedians. These comedians dropped quite a few "F Bombs". The Accountant was so cute and protective of me. He leaned close to me at least three times and asked me if I was OK or if I wanted to leave It would be several weeks later before the real me roared it's head and he discovered a few "F Bombs" were nothing compared to the combination of words this could be sailor could spew out. When we left the Big Bang, he took a wrong turn and headed in the direction opposite of where my car was. A few "F Bombs" went of in my head and I said 'Hey, where are we going?'. He said 'Oh shoot! I don't know, I thought this was the way back to your car. Hold on, let me get my bearings straight,' Then laughed when he saw me white knuckling my door handle. 'Oh! You don't need to literally hold on, I seriously am lost!' I looked at my hand and we both started laughing. Even then he could look at me and read my mind.

Our third date was last minute and my idea. It was an unusually beautiful day for June in Arizona. It was a little warm, but breezy. We met at Safeway and got snacks and sodas, then he took me to the park. We found a place to sit on the grass where we could talk but still people watch. We were snacking and talking- just enjoying each others company. Then The Accountant took out a Little Black Book. He proceeds to explain to me that he bought the book that day, hoping that we could write down our dreams and goals for our future. I was a bit uncomfortable with this but decided to roll with it. Had he had any idea how many "plans" I'd made with other boyfriends that never came into fruition? We talked about where we wanted to live eventually and what we wanted to do professionally. When we were done with this he held me in his arms and told me he wanted to tell me more about his divorce (three years prior, as was mine). He sounded very vulnerable and I thought to myself  Ut-oh, here we go, he's going to drop a bomb and I'm going to have to move on. He proceeded to tell me _____________ which was weird because I had the same issues in the past and we were able to talk about it. One of us on one side of a coin, the other on the flip side. I could tell he was relieved that a) he got it out in the open and b) I completely understood. It was late by then and we agreed it was time to go. He kept talking while I was putting lids back on the snacks we bought and loaded them back inside the plastic shopping bag. He grabbed his soda and got up, starting to walk towards the car. I grabbed the bags and my soda and started walking. I  thought 'Oh that's nice, I'm glad he got HIS stuff. I quickly caught up to him and said 'Can you manage to carry your soda or would you like me to carry it for ya?' He looked at me,, looked at the two plastic shopping bags and soda in my hands and his face turned red. 'Oh my gosh! Let me get that for you! I was distracted. I'm so sorry!' he said, grabbing the bags and my soda. We loaded up his car and were driving out of the parking lot to head back to my car in the Safeway parking lot. He stopped the car, took my hand in his, and said 'I'm really embarrassed. I'm not normally like that.' I laughed it off and then he was laughing too, I think mostly out of embarrassment. Having to lift heavy objects became an inside joke between us.We were telling his cousin The Shoe Seller about me having to lift all heavy objects and she laughed and looked at me and asked 'And he got a fourth date?' I answered 'Yes, because I could tell by his apology that the person in the park walking away with just a soda in hand wasn't really the true Accountant I was dating' The real reason he got a fourth date was because we could laugh about it.