Clifford went Swimming . . .

My mother is deathly afraid of water.  I can remember being young and my parents taking us to a hotel so that we could go swimming and the eternal struggle it was to get mom to join us in the water.  It was a lucky if we could get her in the pool and a virtual miracle if we could get her past the three feet mark.  The many years and attempts at swimming haven't changed the fear that overtakes her as she remembers her near drowning experience of her youth.  That is why you might be as shocked as me to hear that tonight . . . I went to water aerobics with my mom.  You read right people - - - 

 - - -water FREAKING aerobics.  She went last week to see if it would help her knee and didn't want to go back so I volunteered to go with her tonight.  Now, I know what you all are thinking, and I promise you that one day when we all get to heaven and it's "Mia, this is your life" movie time (Mario, like you always said - Meryl Streep and Al Brooks got it right), we will sit down together and replay this memory over and over again and laugh and laugh.  

It was interesting to say the least and more than a little entertaining.  There were my mom and I and about four other, shall we say, mature gentlewomen, getting ready to get our swim on.  Now, I have to say that I'm no Greg Louganis - oops, he's a diver.  Sorry folks, I guess if you had to catalog my swimmer knowledge in the recesses of my mind it would fit somewhere in between top ten polka's greatest polkers and my knowledge about Japanese Anime - needless to say, my knowledge is dim.  Anyway, as I was saying, my swimming abilities may not rival the likes of Olympic athletes but just so you all know - water aerobics is not an Olympic sport.  There is nothing like a night of treading water in the deep end as a lady yells out, "now, do superman! now mermaid! be and egg blender!!" - haha, be an egg blender?  What in the world?  All that being said, the cherry on top was doing the arm "exercises"and stretches at the end of the class with my dear mother - who has never done any kind of stretch a day in her life.  This is when the Clifford in her came shining through(if you have never watched the movie Clifford with Martin Short, stop reading instantly and Netflix or Hollywood video the movie and laugh until your hearts content).  It was 10 minutes of watching her trying to be serious as she breathed in and out and instead of stretching her shoulder by putting one arm straight across the chest she ended up turning it into a self hug and us laughing together at the silliness of it all, dodging glares from the well meaning instructor.  It was a wonderful night and a fun memory that one day will be viewed in my heavenly's greatest hits . . . 

Impatience and a British Smith's . . .

My impatience, at times, astounds me.  Either I was in a very impatient mood today or everyone else in the world was moving in slow stinkin' motion.  I happen to believe it was the latter.  Maybe it was because I haven't gone out or gone shopping in awhile leaving my patience threshold sorrily depleted.  Whatever the case, I felt as if I was standing in lines behind people disguised as snails.  I went into Big 5 Sporting Goods and by the time I made it up to the one checker that this crackerjack establishment provided, I had relived the entire screening of The Green Mile and was once again feeling that someone, maybe Tom Hanks, owed me those 3 hours of my life back with his sincerest apologies for ever having made that movie.  Anyway, I am delving off track, but I do have to admit that I haven't been the most patient of individuals lately and hope to change that.  In doing that I must remember that baby steps are the key.  It was complete lunacy to think that I could handle Riverdale Walmart on a Saturday - that's like the World Series of patience!  I probably should start with a T-Ball game and build my patience through a Wednesday afternoon at La Ranchera - I will let you know how that goes.

Just as impatience seemed to be my friend today, so did randomness.  I think I did the whole dancing with an individual who was walking towards me as we both said, "You go . . No, you go,  ahh okay, oops, ahhh - no really YOU go", like 40 times.  Then there was the waitress who to save her life couldn't understand my mother and kept leaning in saying, "What?" or "Excuse me?" . . . I wish you could have been there to enjoy when my mother, also having a hard time understanding her, asked her to make sure they didn't put bacon on her sweet potato  - - - priceless.   While those were great I do have to say that the moment I stumbled upon a Smith's gas pump that seemed to have been brought over from Britain takes the highlight of the day.  I was struck by this . . 

     I felt so regal and royal and well, British, as if Geeves himself in his butler tux and top hat, would next pop out from behind the pump and kindly ask, "Dearest Mum, would you prefer Regular or Premium on this fine afternoon?", to which I would reply(in my grandest British accent), "Why kind sir, I do say that I fancy the regular today" - ahh to be British.  It was a delightful experience and I believe that we all, at one time or another, deserve to feel as prim and proper as the British, and what better a place to feel as such then while purchasing gasoline. 

I've moved . . . and a random photo . . .

So, I've moved to Ogden with my friend Michelle.  Details to come because right now I am too tired:)

Oh - I also wanted to post this picture cause it cracked me up:

Haha - I have never seen this man in my life but as I was going through my pictures . . there he is!  I love the randomness!  Now, play along with me and there might be a prize for the comment that can make me laugh the hardest -write the caption that should go under this picture . . .GO!