Current Events

Besides boxing, snowboarding and the lousy car incident, married life is nifty. It is free range, organic and uncaged. There is no new business to report thus far.

Current events:
Fashion paraphernalia – 50%
Neatness – 30%
Cigarettes – 0%
Smiling – 110%
Laughing – 110%
Hugs and kisses – 110%
Whoopie – none of your business
Happiness - Infinity

Lesson: A feisty Grasshopper must learn to slice with dull chopstick before gaining the respect of sensei ginsu.

cUrsed! Rats!!!!

It was the night afore, when I made the big mistake of jumping on the scale. Why? I thought that I was making progress. I mean with my loose fit clothes and all. Not to mention, working out 4 to 5 times a week like a schizy on meds. Well, the scale tells no lie. I am now 131 as opposed to 115. What the phhhhh!!!!!!!!!! Currently, I am scraping the hallways of my mind like a lost lunatic.

Listen, I know that muscle is heavier than fat, but come the flippin’ on. Not only that, I’ve completely cut down on my alcohol intake to a complete null, a worthless zero. Furthermore, after reading up on sugar content of champagne is complete potty, I kicked my bubbly consort to the curb. Finally, I’ve been eating small meals a day which entail raw greens, fish and crap. Boggled minds are scrambling searching for a scientific reason...no, I’m not a closet saccharine shyster, I despise the sin. I drink so much water that I give the can more play than a bulimic. And, this is how my body repays me? Rats! I have crucified my lifestyle just to see myself gain? It’s discouraging to know that I’ve busted my ass to see that I have digressed. I mean does weight really matter when it comes to muscle? Hell effen yes, it certainly does.

I am driven, drive, drive, drive to switch it up! It's called attacking Potrero hills by storm at sunrise. At my age, metabolism needs a fine kick in the rear. I have the next six months before it’s go time for a baby and gosh darnit I just wanna be in the best shape.

Lesson: A strapping grasshopper can not live on lawn and bugs alone.

Blood n Guts

We went to the first night of the San Francisco Golden Gloves on Tuesday, and I tell you what? It was so electric, that I went on Wednesday! If I had it my way, I would have gone the consecutive five days. Subsequent to my first experience with a live knockout, I'm like an addict longing for more rock. I was certain that it was a brainless sport, considering that constant brain shaking. But, I have been proven wrong once more. There is more medulla oblongata than meets the eye. Although it’s amateur boxing, still it fleas any sport. I wish I discovered this sport a long time ago. I feel like I’ve been asleep all my life. Once again, I've been shafted.

Flashback: September 29, 1977, world heavyweight Ali vs. Shavers dad ate, drank, crapped, spat boxing. No one was allowed to speak, much less breath, during the fights on television. I awoken the wrath of dad fueled by disobedience, he utilized his fists to silence my silly plight with my sibling. I understand that it was the only outlet he had away from his ten children and mom. It was his only pleasure that brought him happiness well next to mom, of course. Because of his outlet, it fused a hatred for boxing for decades.

I have never felt such a sense of satisfaction. It is my nucleus to my all. I’m happy that my form of meditation and serenity allows such raw exertion. Perhaps, Shane is ecstatic he has had to avoid dealing with a wife that needs much minding (not that there was any problem in that department to start off with).

Lesson: A witless grasshopper is one that resurrects his plastic spoonful of aspect before burying the golden spurn.

Merely a scratch

In two days, Shane was back at the boxing gym. The back of his head decorated with staples it ached me to look at them. He found that the staples contributed to his fresh and found “rugged” demeanor. As long as he is healthy and normal, than let there be staples and grit.

Still at night as he sleeps, I can’t help to think that somewhere in his head there’s a piece the doctor’s missed. I am paranoid that he may not awake from sleep. Yes, of course, I’m paranoid! Blatantly and outrageously paranoid! It’s difficult when my love grows every day and I just can’t fathom being without him. Crap, I've just stumbled on my newfound wife worry. Good lord what next, picking up the dry cleaning and a grocery list? Smile. It could be worse.

Lesson: A grasshopper with no guts does not deserve a tv dinner.

Luck vs. Fate

I received a phone call from Shane. He had just been rear ended on Bay and Larkin and the back of his head was bleeding. As I sat at my desk, my eyes swelled with tears, and my head swirled with all sorts of horrific tantrums. All I wanted to do is breakdown and cry, I prayed that he would be okay. I hoped and prayed that he would be the same person that sang to me that same morning. The same man that tries to grab my attention by dancing in the middle of the living room during my favorite show. Please, let him be okay. I prayed to the ears that had the right to his destiny.

Fortunately, he suffered minimum damage to the back of his head. He walked away from the wreck absent of concussion and headache. I thanked the angel that was responsible for this strike of luck.

There is a daily ritual that I practice. I make sure I tell him how much I love him. In that way, I will not live in regret of what we have no control over. The future holds the upper hand to our fate. I am greatful and certainly thankful for the richness of our love and happiness.

Lesson: Grasshopper should always remember that luck shadows humbleness.

Snow Day

Hi Ho! Hi Ho! It’s off to the mountains we go. La-la-la-la la-la-la-. This season has been terrible for snow. Fortunately, all of you can stop your chanting and praying for snow. Hey! You over there, slowly put your rosary down and go easy on the hail marys.

It’s Angela and KJ’s birthday this Sunday so we’re heading to North Shore for a weekend in the powder. I’m so excited to get out of the city with a bunch of my peeps. I feel that everyone and their dawg are heading there as well, so I must be prepared for the weighty drive. I suck at snowboarding. Shane and his crew are shredmeisters. Me, I'm just a slopmeister. There was a boxing match that I wanted to catch over at our gym. I guess it's only healthy to tear myself away from my passion for a couple days. Snow, here I come! Boxing withdrawals, keep your distance!

Lesson: A Grasshopper can not live on grass and monotony alone.

Splice of Life

So for now, the baby train has been derailed for another year. Gasp. Did the room just go silent? Did someone just drop a dish in the kitchen? Did a woman’s water just break? Quickly, grab a paper bag and breath. Listen, I’m not getting any younger, but for once, my body is in the best shape ever! I’m shedding more weight than a pig in a sauna. I can hear my mom, “shame, tsk, shame, tsk.” Selfish is what I like to call it. I can’t help it, I love being healthy aka not to be mistaken with slender. If I have a child now, it’ll always be about the child and I’m just damn frightful. Certainly, I’ll love our child, but I’m just apprehensive of making that move that will forever switch my way of life. I think to be a parent is to be selfless. Damnit, I’m just feeling like 2006 is a year of self improvement; the bondo of the mind and the body.

Positively, most of my friends with kids have definitely bounced back to slim, but unfortunately my genetics are -to put it lightly- ghastly. I just pray subsequent to baby that I am able to return to the gym and fight the good fight against fat. I want to be all about the baby, but I want to look good too. I guess the older I get, the less resilient this body grows. I had no idea that my vanity was so strident. It’s all a blunder. On a sour note, I would like to digress that I can’t believe all the money I invested in a personal trainer last year. Indeed, I got extremely strong, but my pouch was always there to break me down. That pouch began to seed the thought that maybe I was part marsupial. Gals, if you wanna get nice and fit quickly, one word, box.

Lesson: A doltish Grasshopper is one that preaches about his enlightenment.

My new love

Since boxing, the flames have consumed every aspect of our lives. Who would have thunk? Not I. That’s all we squawk about. We love it so much that we’ve recruited Kurt, Darren and Sophia in hopes that they too will fall in love. Irritating right? Pathetic. It’s so pathetic that we practice our combinations in our living room. Oops, did I let the frog just jump out of the pond? Giggle. It’s such a gritty sport. It’s violent, but so eloquent. What is it about the jab, cross, upper, hook, double jab and concussions? I don’t know, but I scream, “give me more goshdarnit!” We head towards Third Street Gym for the 5:45pm class. First of all, we stopped pairing off with each other, because that is just plain mental and retarded. Just ‘cause we’re married, doesn’t mean we have to do everything together. Kidding. Not really, giggle. By the way, we’re not doing this as a marriage counseling gig. Not yet. Smile.

I purchased my first pair of boxing shoes! I am psyched! We’ve been going four to five days a week, like psychotic animals, we just keep going back for more pain. I have fallen in love. Blush. It has curved my way of life. It has added this “oomph” in my soul. We cut down on drinking and we’re watching what we eat. I’ve incorporated healthy greens like kale (my fav), swiss chard, hydrocress into our daily diet. I even cut champagne, my little bubbly sidekick, from my repertoire. I know, what pathetic people we’ve become, but it doesn’t mean that we’ve stopped living. Haha. On the contrary, that’s what weekend brunch is for. Yeeha! I’ve heard a few snarls from family members questioning our marriage, because of the alcohol intake at our wedding. Pointy fingers, we know who you are. Ahem, it was our wedding. I guess the bride and groom are supposed to sip mineral water instead. Well you sober minded people can sit back down and take a chill pill. By the way, alcohol gets such a bad rap. Whassup? Prohibition much? Sorry for the tangent.

Lesson: A grasshopper that sits in silence while prey attacks is one that does not use his brain.