Revolving Doors

What is the deal with people who don't know how to use revolving doors? I'm talking about the people who don't seem to know how to get into a section if someone has just exited. So they stand there and wait until an empty section comes around. Meanwhile, a line of people has built up behind them. Seriously, where do these people come from?

FitFlops

We've already established that I'm a chump when it comes to buying things for my kids, but I'm also a sucker for marketing. The NYT ran an article a couple weeks ago about FitFlops. They are flip flops that are supposed to work out your legs and butt while you walk--supposedly the soles are destabilizing so it's like walking on sand. Bliss sold similar shoes that were based on the way Masai warriors walk--I kid you not. The Bliss shoes were fugly and expensive, but the FitFlops were OK-looking and only $40, so naturally, I immediately ordered a pair. Luckily, I actually got a pair--apparently after the NYT article ran, there was a run on the FitFlops here in the US. (the company is UK-based). Anyway, I got them in the mail, and then decided it was probably only a gimmick. I saw that they were selling for over retail on ebay, so I guess I'll sell mine on ebay. I may not be working out my legs and butt (at least not by wearing these shoes), but I'll make a couple bucks off of this.

Speaking of feet (not really, but I needed a segue), I stubbed my toe on a door this morning. Why do stubbed toes hurt so much?

cicadas

So the 17-year cicadas are in full bloom right now. They're getting very noisy, and starting to mate. H and I saw some mating pairs on the way to school today--apparently, they mate butt-to-butt. She wanted to pull them apart, but I told her I didn't think they'd appreciate that. She then found two single cicadas and tried to mash their butts together. LOL. H, the cicada matchmaker. She is definitely the cicada whisperer--she is not at all squicked out by them and constantly picks them up. T, on the other hand, doesn't like to touch them--he uses a stick and tries to get them to crawl on. I'm getting a little less squeamish--I don't mind now if H puts one on my shirt, but that doesn't mean I'm going to go out and pet them like she does.

Mommy = Chump

So I took the kids shoe shopping yesterday. The goal was to get H sandals she could wear to camp, and T new sneakers and Crocs. H got her sandals, all right, as well as a kickin' pair of Chuck Taylors (skull-and-crossbones design). T got sneakers (which I'm going to return because when we got home, I realized they're the exact same size as his current sneakers) and skull-and-crossbones Vans. The next size up in Crocs were ridiculously big on him, so he'll just keep squeezing into the ones he has. But Vans and Chuck T's for a 4- and 6-year-old? Can you say Mommy is a sucker?

Spaz in the pool

So a good friend and I took a swim lesson today. We can both swim, but it ain't pretty. And you certainly wouldn't want us to rescue you if you fell overboard. I think it's kind of funny that we're crappy swimmers, considering her people are from an island and mine a peninsula. My heritage must obviously be from the inland part of the peninsula. It was a good lesson, but I have to say it's mildly humiliating spastically flailing in the pool while a good-looking college student critiques your form (or in my case, lack thereof). But I think it was good to do, and we're up for another humiliation session. H and T will also be taking lessons with Coach C this summer.

I also went for a run today. I'm up to about 2.6 miles, but there's no way I'm going to be ready for a half-marathon this fall. Two of my friends have already signed up, but it's more likely that I'll become a champion swimmer than it is that I'll run in an organized race. Anyway, now that the cicadas are flying around, I think that will seriously curtail my enthusiasm for running outside.